Chapter 5
"And then, Kuroo came into school with his hair all messed up! He said that he styled it that way but I think his bedhead was just worse than usual."
"Kuroo-san sounds like an interesting person."
"He is! He's got this vibe that he's a partier but he's a total nerd."
"A nerd?"
"Yeah! I mean, he teaches chemistry at Fukudoroni."
"Is that so? I think I'd like to meet this Kuroo-san."
"Oh?! I'll have to introduce you to him!"
The coffee shop in the early evening was bustling with all kinds of people. Both the young and the old were gathered around the tables with donuts and drinks, talking in low tones. It was a dramatic difference from the late night that Akaashi had first entered this establishment. Of course, that was so late at night that all of the other shops had probably closed by then.
Akaashi and Tobio had found a booth in the corner, and Bokuto came in just five minutes after they had arrived. Tobio was busy munching on a donut, his eyes scanning the restaurant to stare at the pretty lights that hung across the ceiling. He seemed content, which Akaashi was thankful for.
"You can really pack it away, Tobio! I'm impressed," Bokuto said. He grabbed another donut and put it on Tobio's plate, his eyes flitting over to his kid-sized cup. "Oh! You need more milk, Tobio?"
Tobio blinked at him and then at his cup. Recognition lit up in his eyes and he rapidly turned to Bokuto, nodding fiercely. It made Bokuto laugh proudly.
"Of course! Milk is good for your bones! You'll be an amazing volleyball player in no time," Bokuto said. He stood to his feet and grabbed Tobio's cup, uncapping the lid and looking at Akaashi seriously. "Don't eat my donuts while I'm gone."
Akaashi gave him a deadpan look. "I wouldn't dare, Bokuto-san."
Bokuto's serious expression vanished as his lips curled into a smile.
"I knew I could count on you! Be right back!" Bokuto said, walking over to the counter to order more milk for Tobio. Akaashi watched him with a soft smile, his chest warm despite the knots in his stomach.
This was their third meeting at the coffee shop, and Akaashi had never felt quite as warm as he did on Saturday nights. Normally, Saturday nights were spent quietly in his apartment, drinking away while Tobio watched a movie or colored at the coffee table.
Being sober, and alive, Akaashi decided, seemed much better than the alternative…
"So, Tobio!" Bokuto said as he placed his new cup of milk on the table. He slid into the booth, sitting across from Akaashi, and leaned over the table on his elbows. "You liking volleyball so far?"
Tobio sucked on his straw, his cup in between his hands. He nodded, eyes wide and focused. It was the most awake Akaashi had seen his son in months.
"Oh yeah? Do you remember all the positions?" Bokuto asked.
Tobio swallowed the milk and removed the straw from his mouth. He paused, his face scrunching up in concentration.
"Wing Spa–Spo… Spiker. Middle Blo… Blocker. Lib… um," Tobio stuttered, putting a hand to his chin.
"You can get it! Just think," Bokuto said.
Tobio frowned harder, staring at his milk with his typical concentrated face.
"Li… Libero?" Tobio asked, looking up at Bokuto.
Bokuto smiled. "Bingo!"
Akaashi hid his smile behind his glass, feeling a sense of pride swelling inside his chest. It was slowly pushing out the panic, bit by bit.
He could get used to this.
"What else is there?" Bokuto asked Tobio.
"Um… the… Ace?" Tobio asked, receiving a dramatic head-nod. "And… Setter."
"Perfect! You've got the basics down," Bokuto said. "Do you know what position you want to try for yet?"
Tobio shook his head, looking a bit overwhelmed. Bokuto smiled and cackled, reaching across the table to ruffle his hair.
"No worries, little man! You still have to learn the basics before you see what position to play," Bokuto explained. "And maybe even Shouyou can help you pick out a position!"
Tobio's excited face once again fell at the mention of his classmate's name, making Akaashi quirk a brow. He glanced down at Tobio with a peculiar look.
"What's wrong, Tobio? Do you not like Shouyou?" Akaashi asked.
Tobio pouted, glaring at his milk. "No. He's annoying."
Akaashi's face paled as he remembered that Shouyou was Bokuto's nephew. Feeling mortified, Akaashi straightened his back and hissed out a sharp, "Tobio."
Tobio flinched slightly but Bokuto broke out into a boisterious laugh, his hand holding his stomach.
"It's no big deal, Akaashi! Those two haven't been getting along since the first day of kindergarten," Bokuto explained.
Akaashi blinked at Bokuto, wondering why he had not heard anything about this until now. He knew that Tobio had not made any friends, per se, but to make an enemy? That had not happened since his first day of preschool. And boy, was that Oikawa child a problem. He did not want another incident like that to happen ever again.
"Eh? Akaashi, why do you look so worried? It's not a big deal," Bokuto said, breaking through Akaashi's thoughts.
Akaashi blinked back to reality and tried to school his expression back to normal, hoping the color would come back to his face.
"But, Tobio is fighting with another classmate. I should be worried, shouldn't I?" Akaashi asked, his eyes glancing down at his son.
But Bokuto waved his hand in air casually. "Nah. They don't get along but I don't really think they're fighting."
"What do you mean?" Akaashi asked with a quirked brow.
"Well… I think they're both hard-headed and stubborn, which makes their personalities clash. But neither one of them have thrown a punch or anything," Bokuto explained. He suddenly smiled brightly. "Actually, they both do well in volleyball together!"
Akaashi's eyes widened in surprise and he tilted his head down to look at Tobio, who was absently playing with his straw.
Was Tobio really not getting picked on? Was he finding a possible friendship during his training in volleyball?
Akaashi glanced to Bokuto and smiled softly, watching as he interacted with his son. Instead of a pang of jealousy, Akaashi felt relief. Having Bokuto teach Tobio volleyball was possibly doing some good. And all Akaashi had to do was go on these coffee runs.
Akaashi lifted up his latte to his lips, the taste warm on his tongue and comforting to his belly.
He could get used to this.
Akaashi was unsure what he was expecting when he was asked to sit in on the rehearsal to make sure the string bowings looked right.
But this was not it.
"No, no, cellos! What are you doing? You're supposed to crescendo with the phrase. Why are you not following what's on the page? I need more than this!"
Akaashi slouched down in the auditorium seat, his hands curling around his clipboard. Mori was in rare form today, getting angry at every little thing. It must have been because the composer was out today. If he had been in on the rehearsal, Mori would have been more reserved.
Usually, when Mori was upset, he had the habit of picking on a particular section. And today, the cellists were the unlucky victims that Mori had selected.
But Akaashi could not help but feel a little smug. Those cocky cellists were finally getting what they deserved.
"No! What is this? Are you even looking at the music?" Mori fussed, throwing his hands up in the air. He huffed out an aggravated sigh and started to spout off some choice words.
Akaashi released a little sigh of his own and leaned his head against the back of his seat, his eyes staring up at the dark ceiling. While he enjoyed watching the string sections get berated, there was no way he could get any work done with Mori constantly stopping.
"All right, all right! You obviously haven't practiced this. I guess we need to take our lunch break," Mori said, setting his baton down on his stand. He turned to step down from his box and glared at the strings. "I suggest you use this next hour wisely."
The string players paled and immediately shifted in their chairs to look at their music closely. They would not be eating today, Akaashi briefly thought.
Akaashi took in a deep breath and stood up, taking it as his cue to leave. At least he could get some food in his system before sitting through another long rehearsal.
He retreated from the auditorium and turned to make his way down to his office where a delicious sandwich was waiting for him. He could feel his stomach rumble in anticipation.
Bokuto had talked Akaashi's head off about how good the donuts were at the coffee shop, but he failed to mention that the little shop's lunch menu was also superb. He had ordered a sandwich the other week and it had become his new favorite.
Akaashi smiled at the thought. It would only be a few more days until he got to go to the coffee shop again with Bokuto and he truly could not wait. It was turning into his favorite day of the week.
As Akaashi turned down the hallway where his office was located, he stuttered to a stop, his movements stiff. His happy mood immediately fell through the floor and he could feel his face falling into a scowl.
Leaning next to his closed office door was his father, his arms folded across his chest. He had a peculiar look on his face, and it made Akaashi feel uneasy.
Oh, he's got that look on his face! He probably wants you to do something!
The voice teased and scoffed at Akaashi's misery.
Akaashi sighed, steeling himself before he walked down the hall. As he got closer, his father raised his head and locked eyes with him, still no hint of any specific expression on his face.
"Ah, Keiji, so you are here," his father said, straightening up. "We have matters to discuss."
Akaashi frowned at him and shifted towards his office door.
"Is this about my job?" Akaashi asked as he opened his door. "Because if it is, I don't want to hear it."
His father's brow twitched but Akaashi ignored it as he stepped inside his tiny office.
"No. It's not that," his father said.
Akaashi sighed quietly through his nose as he placed his clipboard down. He shifted through some papers on his desk to make himself look busy, hoping that his father would just leave.
"Then what is it?" Akaashi asked.
His father straightened his back as he stood in the doorway, his hands moving into his trouser pockets.
"It's about your mother."
Akaashi jolted, his hands freezing in their movements. He glanced over his shoulder to eye his father.
"Her performance tour in Europe finished the other day and she's coming home tonight. The three of us are going to have dinner together this weekend," his father explained.
Akaashi blinked at him, feeling goosebumps prickle on his skin as anxiety traveled through his nerves.
"Um," Akaashi stuttered, his resolve faltering.
He started fiddling with his hands again, his fingers tugging and pulling on one another. He knew exactly what this was all about. It was not some family get-together where he and his parents meet up to discuss how their lives have been or how his mother's performances were.
No. This was all political. If Akaashi did not attend, there would just be talk about it in the musical world, and his name would be tarnished as a "horrible son who would not even meet with his parents for dinner." Akaashi had no choice. If he ever wanted to show his face in the music realm ever again, he had to go.
"What day?" Akaashi asked.
"Saturday evening," his father answered immediately. "At five."
Akaashi's face paled. That was the day that he and Bokuto had chosen to go to the coffee shop. And not only that, but what was he going to do with Tobio?
His knuckles cracked as his fingers wrenched harder.
"I… What about Tobio?" Akaashi asked.
His father frowned harder and lifted up his hand to wave it in the air.
"Just find a babysitter," he scoffed and he turned to leave. "And don't forget. Five sharp."
Akaashi watched as his father left the doorway, his footsteps echoing down the hall. His stomach was suddenly in knots, the sandwich that he had been longing for all morning now forgotten in his bag.
Ugh, this sucks, Akaashi thought, plopping down in his chair and hunching over on his knees. Not only do I have to cancel my plans with Bokuto, but I also have to find a babysitter for Tobio. Who in the world can I ask to—
Akaashi's thoughts stopped abruptly as a thought popped into his head. He pondered it and tossed it back and forth, wondering if it was such a good idea.
He sighed and groaned, holding his head in his hands.
"I don't have a choice, do I?" Akaashi murmured to the empty room.
He begrudgingly sat up in his chair and pulled his phone from his pocket. He searched through the contacts and quickly pressed the call button before he could change his mind.
"Hey, hey, hey! What's up, Akaashi?"
Akaashi took a deep breath.
"Hello, Bokuto-san. Could I ask you for a favor?"
"Dinner is in the fridge. You just have to heat it up. There's some for you, too."
"Okay! I can handle that."
"And Tobio's medical information is right here. His doctor's number is right next to it."
"Ah… okay! I'll keep it on hand."
"And if you need to call for anything, just keep calling until I pick up."
"Akaashi…"
"And in case of emergency—"
"Akaashi!"
Akaashi snapped his mouth shut, turning around to face Bokuto, stress lines etched into his forehead. Bokuto was sitting down on the couch next to Tobio with a confident smile on his face.
"Everything will be fine, Akaashi," Bokuto promised. "Me and Tobio are just gonna hang out! I've got a movie ready if he wants, and tons of snacks prepared! And I know when his bedtime is, so it's all good."
Akaashi fidgeted in place, his hands fiddling with the sleeves of his suit jacket. He glanced down at Tobio, who was busy coloring. Akaashi had never left Tobio with anyone besides his teachers before. It made his stomach feel tight with nerves. But as he watched Tobio color, he did not look bothered or upset. So Tobio obviously trusted Bokuto, which made Akaashi feel sick for a completely different reason.
Akaashi sighed, reaching up to adjust his tie.
"Right," Akaashi said quietly. "But… let me know if there's any trouble, okay?"
"There won't be, but you'll be the first one I call!" Bokuto said happily.
"Except—"
"Except if there's an emergency. Then I would call police, or whatever. But there won't be an emergency."
Akaashi sighed, instead reaching down to tug on his sleeves. His suit felt tight.
"Okay," he wheezed, dropping his hands to his sides. "I'll go now."
He walked over to Tobio's side and leaned over to pat his head. Tobio barely spared him a glance as he kept coloring.
"Be good for Bokuto-san, okay?" Akaashi said to his son.
Tobio nodded, turning back down to look at his paper. Akaashi took a deep breath and headed towards the front door, adjusting his suit jacket as he went. Bokuto followed him, his smile comforting and calming.
"Everything will be great," Bokuto said, placing his hands on his hips. "Just focus on having a good time."
Akaashi grimaced, feeling his eyebrow twitch.
Easier said than done, Akaashi thought, tugging on his fingers.
"Thank you, Bokuto-san," Akaashi said with a sigh. "I'll see you later."
"Bye!" Bokuto said, waving as Akaashi left the apartment.
Akaashi sighed again as he wandered down the steps of his complex and out to the main street. He stuffed his hands on his pockets as he walked, trying to slow his fluttering heart before it flew right out of his chest. He put a hand to his chest to feel its quivering beats.
"It'll be fine. Everything will be fine," Akaashi breathed.
Ha! Maybe at home it'll be fine. But what about at the restaurant?
The voice sneered and laughed at Akaashi's attempts to relax, making his anxiety rise. It was such a frustrating thing that as soon as he's away from Bokuto, the voice comes back in full force.
He hailed a taxi and told them the address, his lip twitching when he read the name of the restaurant to the driver. Who on earth would name their restaurant Rest House anyways? Was it really a fancy place? Akaashi almost felt overdressed. He hoped his father was right when he said it was a black-tie event.
The taxi pulled to a stop in front of the restaurant and Akaashi stepped out, eyeing the tall, elegant windows. His lip twitched nervously. Perhaps this was a fancy place, after all.
He entered through the front door and was immediately met with a host, his eyes piercing through his red-framed glasses. After giving his name, Akaashi was led into the restaurant, passing by chic decorations and sophisticated businessmen along the way.
When the host led Akaashi to a table in the center of the room, two familiar faces caught his eye. He startled as the host bowed and gestured towards the table. Akaashi offered the host a quiet thank you and then turned back to the table.
Instead of just one pair of sharp, critical eyes, there were now two.
And the woman sitting at the table was eyeing him with mild disdain.
"Keiji," she greeted.
Akaashi gulped, and bowed his head slightly at the woman before him.
"Mother."
"So this is how you write out my name. Like this, see?"
"Like… this?"
"Almost. Make the mark here a little bit curvier."
"Oh."
Tobio moved the red crayon down on the paper, his eyes wide in concentration. He moved it to the right, curving the line outwards instead of straight.
"Okay. How's this?" Tobio asked, leaning back and looking up at Bokuto with wonder.
Bokuto smiled brightly. "Perfect! You must be some kind of genius!"
Tobio's eyes shined and a light blush formed on his cheeks. He glanced down at the paper, looking excited. It was the happiest emotion Bokuto had ever seen on his face.
"So… you like coloring?" Bokuto asked.
Tobio glanced at him, pondering the question. After a moment or two, he nodded.
"That's really cool! You do a good job, little man," Bokuto said. "What else do you like to do?"
Tobio pursed his lips, appearing deep in thought. When recognition lit up in his eyes, he quickly shuffled his papers around on the coffee table until he came upon one sheet. He lifted the sheet up, a drawing of a familiar face on the page along with a green and white volleyball.
"Oh!" Bokuto said, recognizing the handsome face on the picture. "Is that me?!"
Tobio nodded, handing the picture over to him to see. Bokuto took the picture and studied it, noticing the spikes in his hair and how he was standing next to the net with his hands in the air. The volleyball was flying in the air, ready for the stick-figure-Bokuto to spike.
Bokuto's grin was wide as he looked down at Tobio.
"This is awesome, Tobio! Have you shown your dad this?" Bokuto asked.
Tobio's brows suddenly twitched and he frowned, shaking his head. He picked up a crayon and fiddled with it.
Bokuto's smile faded. "Huh? Why not?"
Tobio found another blank piece of paper and started to color a new picture, creating little harsh scribbles.
"He's too busy," Tobio explained.
"Too busy?" Bokuto said, his lips pulling down into a frown.
"Yeah. With work," Tobio said. "He works all day and then when he gets home, he just wants to rest."
Bokuto frowned, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm sure he tries really hard to spend time with you."
Tobio shook his head, still scribbling little lines on the paper.
"He's always late to pick me up. He forgot to pack my lunch," Tobio said. "I don't think he cares."
Bokuto blinked at him, surprised that those words would come out of a five-year-old's mouth. He bit his lip, thinking back to that bridge just a few weeks ago.
"I have to g-get back home. Tobio is…"
Akaashi had looked so concerned then that Bokuto thought he was going to be sick. There was no way that a man with those eyes could not care. He knew in that instant that Akaashi regretted his decision, and all he wanted to do since he got down from the railing was get home to his son.
But, of course, Bokuto couldn't tell Tobio that.
"He cares," Bokuto said, reaching over to touch Tobio's shoulder. "He just…"
Bokuto thought of all of Akaashi's deadpan looks, his dry jokes and snarky remarks.
Okay. Well, maybe Tobio had a point.
"He does care, Tobio. He just doesn't always know how to show it," Bokuto said.
Tobio peered up at him, his hand pausing in his scribbling.
"How to… show it?" Tobio asked, blinking at him.
"Mmn! Like, he might not know how to be a really caring dad because maybe his dad or mom didn't show him how. What are your grandparents like?" Bokuto asked.
Tobio's brows quirked, pressing together strangely.
"I don't know," Tobio said. "I've never met them."
If anything, Akaashi could positively say that the food and service at the restaurant were excellent. He ate several plates of the bread and devoured his share of the appetizer. His meal of choice was great so far.
The meal would have been perfect…
"You're still the orchestra librarian? Keiji, I expected you to be in an orchestra by now."
…Except for the constant berating on his character.
Akaashi kept his head low and his eyes on his entrée. He pushed his food around on his plate, his stomach slowly turning sour.
It was a shame. It was such a waste of food.
"He's told me he hasn't practiced since he's had to care for the child," his father answered his wife after swallowing a mouthful of his meal.
Akaashi cut his eyes at him, his heart picking up speed with anger. His father stared back at him, his usual condescending look on his face.
His mother clicked her tongue and politely wiped her mouth. Akaashi held his breath, watching his mother carefully. She was an elegant woman, poised in grace and sophistication. As world-class pianist, Akaashi Akemi was always travelling, giving concerts to thousands of audiences all over the world.
She had high expectations for anyone. Just like her husband.
Akaashi held back a sigh.
Why couldn't she have kept travelling for a few more months?
"My goodness, Keiji," his mother said with a sigh, straightening in her chair. "What a mess you've created."
Akaashi sighed, putting down his fork. The chair suddenly felt uncomfortable and his tie was too tight around his neck.
He wanted to go home.
"Honestly, how are you going to help run the company with your kind of reputation?" his mother asked.
Akaashi stiffened, his eyes practically popping out of his skull as he snapped his head up from his plate to stare at his mother incredulously.
Do what?
"Um… help run the company?" Akaashi asked, his brows pinching.
His mother stared back at him, equally as confused, before turning her gaze to her husband. She gave him a flat look, a similar expression that Akaashi gives Konoha almost all the time.
"You didn't tell him," she stated.
"I thought it would be good to discuss it with all of us here together," his father answered.
His mother paused, her eyes sharp. She nodded once and then folded her hands on her lap.
"I see. Well, maybe you should go ahead and tell Keiji about the plan," she said.
Akaashi grimaced. He still was not receiving any answers. His parents were talking about him as if he were not seated right in front of them.
"Yes, yes," his father said as he placed his napkin down on the table. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Keiji, you're going to start training to work alongside me."
Akaashi blinked at him, and then his eyes widened.
"What? Work… in your office building?" Keiji asked.
"That's right," his father said. "I can't give you anything more than a desk job at first but you'll work your way up to vice president."
His mother nodded in agreement. "We need to raise your status so that you'll be reputable as the heir of the Akaashi industry and the future owner of the Tokyo Philharmonic."
Heir? Me? Take over my father's company? Akaashi thought.
He thought of what it would be like to work on a daily basis next to his father: taking orders, making copies, learning the tricks of the trade. To any other son of a famous CEO and president, the opportunity would be a dream.
But to Akaashi, it felt more like a nightmare.
And then there's the issue of Tobio. His father's office was on the other side of the city, much further away than he would like. He could commute the distance, but then he would be extremely late to pick up his son from school. And Akaashi did not want to transfer Tobio out of Fukudoroni. He had been doing so well there with Bokuto by his side. It would not be fair to him.
"I…" Akaashi whispered. "I'm not sure about this."
His parents froze on the spot, both of their eyes wide with shock. When the shock had worn off, his father leaned forward and glowered at him.
"You think you have a say in this matter?" his father asked.
Akaashi tensed, his hands closing into fists.
Oh, here we go. You're upsetting him again. How typical, little Keiji.
He breathed through his nose and tried to block out the voice.
"You can't just tell me to change my job like this," Akaashi said. "I have to consider my options. This job will take more of my time, and that's not what Tobio needs. He needs more stability, not less of it."
"Oh for goodness' sake, Keiji," his mother scoffed. "You're giving up everything for that child. You could have had so much more if you had just let the adoption services take him."
Akaashi winced, remembering that fateful day. He remembered how close he was to handing that little bundle over to the social services. He had already signed the paperwork, ready to give him up.
But then, a little hand wrapped around his finger and beautiful blue eyes stared up at him.
And Akaashi knew then that he could not abandon him.
"Tobio is my son. I couldn't just give him up," Akaashi said.
"But it's not like you wanted him," his mother retorted.
Akaashi stared at her with a dropped jaw. He could feel a shiver run down his spine.
"That… that doesn't matter, though," Akaashi said. "He's my own flesh and blood. I… I couldn't just… abandon him."
"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Keiji," his mother said, taking a sip of her wine. "You were going to advance in your career. That's not abandoning."
"But it's selfish," Akaashi responded softly.
His father rolled his eyes and rubbed his temple. Akaashi could practically feel the tension rising at the table.
"If you're so concerned about the boy then hire a nanny for him," his father mentioned.
Akaashi frowned, staring down at the table.
"He won't like that," he answered simply.
"Must you make things so complicated?" his father said under his breath. He took his hand from his temple and looked at him with boredom in his eyes. "And why is that?"
Akaashi grimaced. "He'll… be lonely."
His mother quirked a brow. "Lonely? If the boy has a nanny, he'll have someone there to take care of him."
"But it won't be me," Akaashi stressed.
"And?" his mother said, looking at him for an answer. Akaashi only looked back at her in confusion. "What difference does it make? You need to give your career more priority. It was such a disappointment to us when you said you were going to keep it."
"Him," Akaashi corrected, feeling irritated that his parents keep forgetting. "And could you have done the same thing? If you could go back in time, would you have been able to give me up?"
His mother took one, maybe two seconds to look at him. And then, she spoke evenly and bluntly.
"If I had given you up, I would've been able to take another tour instead of being stuck on maternity leave," she said simply. "So, I suppose, in a word, yes. I would have given you up."
Akaashi sat frozen at the table, his mother's words echoing in his head. Several emotions flooded through his system all at once, his hands shaking and quivering in his lap. The emotion he finally settled on was anger and he let it consume his entire body until he felt hot.
"What do you mean?" Akaashi said, his voice low and unsteady. "Did I really ruin your career for you? Was I that much of a nuisance?"
His mother's eyes widened slightly but her brows lowered.
"You were not a nuisance, no. But you were the reason I had to turn down a tour in America," her mother said.
Akaashi shook his head. "A tour? That's all? You would have given me up to play piano more?"
"That opportunity could have opened so many doors for us," his father added, looking more agitated.
Akaashi felt his control slowly starting to slip as he closed his hands into fists, his nails digging painful crescents into his palms. He glanced down at his lap, feeling his arms shake as he desperately tried to control his rage.
"Why…" he whispered out. The question was threatening to spill from his lips, ready to pounce and tear everything limb from limb until there was nothing left.
"Why?" his mother echoed, one brow raised in question.
Go ahead, the voice taunted. Say it.
Akaashi winced, his palms surely bleeding by now.
"Why what? Why did we not take that opportunity?" his mother asked. "It was simple, really. It was required that I stuck around while you were born."
Akaashi grimaced. That was not what he wanted to ask. Not at all.
You're so pathetic if you can't even say this one thing!
"It was our only option. It was tough, but I was able to get back into a tour sooner, thanks to our butlers and teachers that could take care of you," she continued.
Yeah, Akaashi thought bitterly. You left me with them and I was alone for days. The only time I got to speak to someone was when I had a meal and the butler would talk to me briefly.
So say it, little Keiji! the voice egged on. Say it and be BRAVE!
"So you can do the same for your child. We can find a good butler for him."
SAY IT, KEIJI!
Akaashi felt something snap.
"Why did you even keep me?!" Akaashi shouted, looking up from across the table.
His parents both jumped at his tone, their eyes blowing wide. There were sounds of light clattering throughout the dining room as the other patrons dropped their utensils to stare at the center of the room.
But Akaashi could barely hear it past the roaring beat of his heart hammering inside his ears.
"If you were so miserable in your lives, then why did you even choose to keep me?!" Akaashi shouted. "You should have just given me away as a child! We all could've been happier! We all could have won!"
Akaashi banged his fists on the table, rattling the silverware and wine glasses.
"Maybe I would've had adoptive parents who didn't leave me with butlers or nannies all day long. Maybe I would've had parents who didn't buy my happiness and then brush me off or neglect me!" Akaashi spat, glaring at both of his parents.
He could vaguely hear whispers buzzing around the restaurant.
But this time, the voice just egged him on, screaming at him to continue.
And so he did.
"Or maybe I would've had parents who supported the things I enjoyed. Parents who wouldn't shove their opinions and impossibly high standards so far down my throat that I felt like I couldn't breathe."
Akaashi's blood was boiling and his fists were sore from banging them on the table. His head was starting to split from how loud he was yelling.
But he still had one more thing to say before he could finish. He had to say his piece.
And the words bubbled up his throat before he could stop them.
"I wish you had never even had me!"
SLAP
Akaashi was stunned silent as his head snapped to the side and he collapsed out of his chair onto the floor. He fell hard on his side, eliciting sharp gasps from other people. He could barely register what had just happened until he felt his cheek stinging painfully. He lifted a hand to his face and touched his cheek. When he pulled his hand back, there was blood.
Akaashi inhaled sharply at seeing the small drops of blood on his fingertips. He glanced up towards the table, eyes wide and jaw dropped.
Standing above him was his father, his face contorted in disgust and the back of his hand red.
Akaashi began to quiver.
His father had just slapped him so hard that he bled.
It hurt.
It hurt so much that the pain radiated to his teeth and jaw.
But nothing could compare to the pain that throbbed inside his chest.
And to make matters worse…
Haha! You foolish boy! What did you expect?
…the voice was laughing at him.
Akaashi, still holding his cheek, slowly leaned up from the floor. He was about to stand to his feet when he heard a booming voice amongst the commotion in the restaurant.
"You watch your mouth or I'll find someone to replace you."
Akaashi glanced back up to see his father still standing above him with his hands in tight fists by his sides. He stared up at him, still in shock, still in pain.
You fool! You stupid, stupid fool! How did you think saying all that would be a good idea?
He grimaced, moving sluggishly to stand on his wobbling legs. When he looked around, he could see the other customers and waiters staring at him with shell-shocked expressions.
He glanced back to the table to see his mother sitting quietly, her hands in her lap and her gaze sharp and condescending.
Oh, would you look at that? Your own mother isn't even going to come to your rescue.
How pathetic.
Akaashi swallowed, shuddering when a metallic taste slid past his tongue and down his throat. He briefly wondered if he lost a tooth.
Taking a quivering breath and keeping his hand on his cheek to stop the blood, Akaashi turned towards his parents and bowed his head.
"Thank you for dinner," Akaashi mumbled.
And then, he turned to leave, not daring to look back. He could hear his father spouting something at him from behind, but he did not hear it.
All he could hear was the laughter of that wretched voice inside his head.
Bokuto watched as Tobio munched happily on his dinner, his little cheeks full of rice. It made Bokuto smile as it reminded him of his nephew. The only difference was that Shouyou tried to talk while his face was stuffed with food. Tobio was mostly silent—something that Bokuto was not used to.
"Is it good?" Bokuto asked, eating the last bite of rice on his plate.
Tobio nodded and then swallowed. He reached for his glass of milk and sucked it down through the straw.
"Ah, I could tell that you liked it. Your dad cooks really well," Bokuto said. "Is this your favorite food?"
Tobio placed his glass of milk back down on the table and looked at the food on his plate.
"Not really. I like pork curry," Tobio said.
"Oh, pork curry is pretty good!" Bokuto said.
"Mmn, with egg on top!" Tobio said, his eyes getting big.
Bokuto laughed and guzzled down the last of his own glass of milk. Tobio did seem like a shy kid but it was really that he just did not have much to say. He had to pull the words out of him to get him to speak.
"Okay, so if that's your favorite food, what's your dad's favorite food?" Bokuto asked. He was genuinely curious, hoping that if he surprised Akaashi with his favorite meal, it would brighten his day.
But Tobio's brows furrowed and he looked up at Bokuto with a strange expression.
"I don't know. He doesn't really eat that much," Tobio answered, making Bokuto frown a little. But then, Tobio pointed towards one of the shelves in the kitchen. "He likes to drink out of that big bottle a lot, though."
Bokuto followed Tobio's finger to peer at the shelf, his heart fluttering when his eyes spotted the bottle.
It was a tall glass bottle of hard liquor.
Bokuto blinked at it, feeling his chest constrict. He drank that stuff right in front of his son? Or was it more like he tried to drink in private and Tobio just happened to see?
It made Bokuto's heart ache.
Suddenly, the lock from the front door clicked, the sound of jingling keys muffled on the other side of the door.
Bokuto sat up straight in the chair and looked out from the kitchen towards the genkan. Akaashi was home already? But he was not expecting him to be home until after Tobio's bedtime. Why was he early?
The front door opened and in walked Akaashi, his body moving slow as he shuffled out of his shoes.
Bokuto smiled, not bothered by his early arrival. Maybe he could even talk to him for a bit before he left!
"You finish up, okay?" Bokuto said to Tobio. "I'll be right back."
Tobio nodded, still chewing away at his rice.
Bokuto stood up from the kitchen table and headed out to the living room, a spring in his step. He was pretty excited about hanging out with Akaashi for even just a few minutes. Maybe he could even convince him to come to volleyball, even though the last few tries had been unsuccessful.
"Akaashi! You're home early!" Bokuto said as he approached the genkan. Akaashi turned to face him, the light from the hall hitting his face. "We haven't had dessert yet, so you're welcome to—"
Bokuto froze, his smile instantly falling from his face.
Akaashi's cheek was red and bruised. There was a cut on his cheekbone, and a faint trail of dried blood running to his jaw.
"Akaashi…" Bokuto whispered as he took a step forward. He lifted his hand and touched his cheek gingerly, the pads of his fingers barely grazing the wound. "What happened?"
Akaashi winced slightly and bit his lip. He looked worn out and exhausted even though it was just a few hours ago that he was jittery and restless. Now, Akaashi looked like a ghost of his former self.
"Nothing that you need to worry about," Akaashi said, turning his head and pulling away from Bokuto's fingers. Bokuto let his hand slowly lower back to his side, a little dejected. "It's not a big deal."
"Not a… Akaashi, you have a cut on your face. You're bleeding," Bokuto said, wincing.
Akaashi's brows twitched and then furrowed, his eyes refusing to meet Bokuto's gaze. He visibly swallowed and then bowed his head.
"Thank you for watching Tobio," Akaashi said. "I've got it from here. You can go ahead and go home."
Bokuto frowned, hesitating by the doorway. He fidgeted in place and shifted his weight on his feet.
"Um… are you sure you're all right?" Bokuto asked, his brows knitted together in concern.
Akaashi slowly moved his head back up and, finally, finally, he met Bokuto's gaze. His eyes were blank and glazed over, looking like a shell or even a corpse.
Bokuto shuddered, not wanting to think of that again.
"Yeah, I'm fine. It was just an accident," Akaashi said. "Thank you for your concern, Bokuto-san."
Bokuto paused, still twitching in place. He did not want to leave but… did he have the right to stay? Was he even allowed?
"O-Okay, Akaashi. If you say so," Bokuto said. "But! If you need any help with anything, you can call me!"
Akaashi nodded. "I will. Thank you, Bokuto-san."
Bokuto bit his lip. Was that all he was really going to say?
"Yeah. S-Sure, Akaashi," Bokuto said. "I guess I'll be heading out then."
He turned to the kitchen and waved at Tobio from the doorway.
"Bye, Tobio! I'll see you on Monday!" Bokuto called out.
Tobio's brows upturned sadly but he waved back before tilting his head back down to stare at his food.
Bokuto turned his attention back to Akaashi, who bowed his head to him one more time.
"Have a good evening," Akaashi said.
"Mmn," Bokuto hummed, his brain going in a million different directions. He slid his feet into his shoes and gave Akaashi a strained smile. "I'll… see you next week."
Akaashi nodded and waved him off, opening and closing the door for him.
Bokuto stood outside of Akaashi's door for who knows how long. His brain was telling him to just barge right back in and demand to know what happened. But he knew his friendship with Akaashi wasn't so solid. He had gained his trust, definitely, but they were not so close that he wanted to pry.
Bokuto reached up and gripped at his hair in frustration, pulling at the stiff strands until they fell loosely into his face. How was he supposed to handle this situation?
With a sigh, Bokuto stuffed his hands into his pockets and dragged himself down the hallway.
He needed to talk to Kuroo.
When the door clicked shut, Akaashi braced himself.
Oh he's finally gone!
Are you going to wallow in your misery now?
You pathetic fool!
Did you see how everyone looked at you at the restaurant!
You should just disappear!
Disappear!
The voice was overwhelming, choking him nearly to death on the way home. It was barely contained in his short conversation with Bokuto, but it was desperate to speak. Akaashi had to get Bokuto out before the demon inside of him could claw its way out.
He did not want Bokuto to see him like that.
Akaashi grit his teeth and then winced, feeling the harsh throb on his face. He lifted his hand to his cheek and touched it, feeling the pain reverberate to his neck.
His father really hit him hard.
Akaashi sighed and dragged himself to the kitchen to search for painkillers. He glanced at Tobio, who still sat at the table with food in his mouth, ignoring everything else that surrounded him.
He won't even greet you. He's probably still mad at you.
Akaashi sighed and pulled out the bottle, opening it and gulping down three pills.
That's not enough.
Akaashi's heart jolted, his mind in a haze as the voice spoke to him. His face scrunched up, wondering what the voice meant.
That's not enough pills. You need to take more if you want the pain to stop.
Akaashi turned the bottle around in his hand, looking for the recommended dosage. His eyes squinted as he looked for the label.
No, no! That doesn't matter, you fool. You know you need more. Your face hurts, doesn't it?
Akaashi lifted a hand to his cheek again, feeling the cut and the nasty bruise that would surely blossom on his face.
It did hurt.
Then take more. A little more won't be too bad.
Go on.
Take them.
Akaashi reopened the bottle, letting more pills spill out into his palm. Without even thinking twice, he put all of the pills into his mouth.
Now, go get something to help wash them down.
You need something to help numb everything.
Akaashi's eyes flitted over to his strong liquor on the shelf, the bottle still full.
Go on. Drink.
It will help you relax.
Akaashi placed the near-empty bottle of pills down on the counter and moved over to the shelf. He grabbed the bottle and then made his way to the living room.
"Daddy?"
Tobio's voice made him pause and he glanced over at his son who was finishing up his dinner. He was staring wide-eyed at Akaashi, his gaze focused on his cheek.
"What happened to your face?" Tobio asked.
Akaashi winced, feeling the stinging intensify. The painkillers had not kicked in yet.
He tried to give a wobbly smile to reassure his son.
"I just had a little accident," Akaashi explained.
Tobio blinked at him, looking oddly concerned for some reason. His hands tightened around his chopsticks.
"Do you need a bandaid?" Tobio asked.
Akaashi wanted to smile, but his face hurt so much that he found that he couldn't. The bottle in his hand grew heavy and he ended up shaking his head.
"No, it'll be fine. The bleeding stopped so it should be okay," Akaashi explained. "You should get ready for bed soon, okay?"
Tobio's face contorted into a strange expression as he blinked at his father silently.
Akaashi sighed, wondering what was going through his son's head.
He's probably thinking how weird you are. What a useless father.
Akaashi ignored the voice screaming in his ear and walked into the living room to plop down on the couch. He pulled his phone from his pocket and set it on the table in front of him before he turned to the bottle in his hand. He popped open the bottle and immediately started to guzzle down the strong alcohol. It burned his throat on the way down but he loved how heavy it made him feel. It took away the washed-up feeling he had earlier.
The voice slowly faded away, which he was thankful for, so he kept drinking and drinking. He was unsure how long he sat there on the couch. It could have been minutes or hours.
But eventually, his chest started to burn. His stomach clenched and then twisted, making him put the bottle down on the coffee table. He put his hands to his stomach and curled up on the couch. His head felt dizzy as the room started to swirl rapidly.
What's… happening? Akaashi thought.
The pain in his belly was sharper now, and the edges of his vision darkening. His eyes slowly started to close as he pressed his hands tighter to his stomach.
"Daddy?"
He could faintly hear a voice nearby and he struggled to open his eyes. In front of him was Tobio, his eyes full of concern. The boy had his pajamas on already and had his plush fish under his arm. He looked ready for bed and was probably waiting for Akaashi to tuck him in. But the thought made Akaashi feel dizzy and nauseous.
How much time had passed since he grabbed the bottle from the kitchen?
Had it really been a few hours?
Akaashi forced himself up from the couch, his stomach throbbing in protest.
"Sorry, Tobio. Let's get you tucked in, okay?" Akaashi stuttered out with a trembling breath.
But as soon as Akaashi took a step, his legs crumbled beneath his weight and he toppled to the ground, landing hard on his stomach.
"Daddy!" Tobio shouted.
Akaashi groaned in pain and rolled over on his side, his hands pressing on his stomach. He felt a small hand on his shoulder and he lolled his head to the side to see his son standing in front of him with a scared look on his face.
"Ah, T-Tobio…" Akaashi whispered.
He tried to stay focused on Tobio but his son quickly started to blur into different colors, his vision fading.
"Daddy, wake up! What's happening?! Daddy!"
Tobio's voice sounded like nothing more than a distant echo as his vision faded to black.