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Akaashi Keiji was a boy who liked control.That’s what he told himself as he walked through the front gates of Fukurodani Academy, his polished shoes barely making a sound against the pavement. The morning air was crisp, the faint scent of freshly trimmed grass mixing with the cool autumn breeze. Everything felt in its place—the uniform rows of students moving through the halls, the gentle hum of conversation, the predictable rhythm of the day.Control made sense. It made life easier. And Akaashi Keiji thrived in the predictable.Today, the first day of his high school life, would be no different.He adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder, tightening it with a precise movement. His eyes flicked to the schedule tucked neatly in his breast pocket.Everything had been planned—his classes, even his route to homeroom.But as he walked through the bustling halls, there was a small, unspoken tension in his chest. Anxiety. It was always there. He could feel it—an unsettling vibration that hummed just beneath the surface, like a wrong note played softly in the background. Out of tune.The hallways were alive with the sound of students finding their places, laughter bouncing off the walls, and voices blending into an indistinct chorus of excitement. Akaashi didn’t need to make friends right away. He wasn’t here for that. He was here to excel. That’s what his parents expected—what they always expected. And he didn’t mind that.Everything had its reason. And he would keep it that way.As he turned the corner, his eyes caught on the white volleyball shoes hanging neatly from his bag, barely scuffed, their laces meticulously tucked into place. He had packed them carefully that morning, though the question still lingered in his mind.Why?He hadn’t decided anything yet.He exhaled softly through his nose, trying to push the thought away. Volleyball was… complicated.Complicating. It was the one thing that always made his pulse race just a little too fast, that tugged at the edges of his control, threatening to spill out and disrupt everything. He hadn’t even mentioned the possibility of joining the team to his parents. They wouldn’t disapprove, but…No. He hadn’t decided anything yet.Just as he was about to turn into his homeroom, a voice rang out—bright, loud, and entirely too enthusiastic for eight in the morning.“Hey, hey, hey!” Akaashi froze. “Are those volleyball shoes?”His fingers instinctively brushed against the shoes at his side. His heart gave a small jolt. He hadn’t thought anyone would notice them. When he glanced up, his gaze landed on a boy standing just a few feet away, his wild, spiked hair catching the light. Black and white streaks shot through it like lightning, as if the boy himself had been struck by something that left him buzzing with energy.The hallway, once noisy, seemed to quiet around them.The boy’s golden eyes zeroed in on the shoes hanging from Akaashi’s bag as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world.“You trying out for the volleyball team?” The boy’s voice was charged with excitement, his gaze lifting to meet Akaashi’s. It wasn’t a simple question. It was a declaration, as if Akaashi’s decision had already been made for him.Akaashi blinked, feeling the air shift around him. “I… haven’t decided yet.”The boy’s expression immediately shifted into one of pure disbelief. “What?! You gotta try out! Volleyball here is amazing! I’m Bokuto, by the way. Bokuto Koutaro. Second year. Ace of the team!” He flashed a grin so wide it was almost blinding, and Akaashi felt a strange, involuntary reaction—his pulse quickened, his grip tightening slightly on the strap of his bag.Akaashi knew the name. Everyone who followed volleyball knew it. Even Akaashi, who wasn’t sure he would even try out, had seen clips of Bokuto’s spikes. Powerful. Electric. A player who seemed to carry his team on sheer willpower alone.Bokuto’s grin didn’t falter. He was practically bouncing on his toes now, an endless well of energy radiating off him in waves. “So, what position do you play?”“Setter,” Akaashi said after a brief hesitation, though he wasn’t entirely sure why he’d answered. Maybe he thought Bokuto would let him go if he gave a simple response.But the opposite happened.Bokuto’s eyes lit up like the gym’s fluorescent lights had flickered on at full brightness. Akaashi felt his chest tighten. This was a mistake.“No way! You’re a setter?!” Bokuto practically shouted, his voice ricocheting down the hallway. “Dude, you’ve gotta come to tryouts! We’ve been looking for a setter, and trust me—you won’t find a better team. You have to come!”Akaashi, despite his best efforts, felt a faint warmth creeping into his cheeks. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention. Wasn’t comfortable with it.“I’ll… think about it,” Akaashi managed, his voice steady but quieter than he’d meant it to be. He needed to gather himself, to pull back into that shell of calm he’d spent so long perfecting. But something about Bokuto made that infinitely more difficult.“Think about it?” Bokuto repeated, blinking rapidly. “Okay, but don’t think too long! Tryouts are this afternoon. You’re coming, right?”Akaashi hesitated for a second. He was caught up in the sheer force of Bokuto’s energy, unsure of what to say. “I… I’m Akaashi, by the way. Akaashi Keiji.”Bokuto’s eyes lit up again, like the information had somehow made everything even more exciting.“Akaashi Keiji? Kaashi! That’s perfect! You’ll fit right in!”Akaashi opened his mouth to correct him—“It’s Akaashi, actually”—but before he could finish, Bokuto was already turning away, walking backward with a grin that could have lit up the entire hallway.“I’ll see you there, Kaashi!” Bokuto called, his voice fading as he disappeared around the corner.Akaashi stood there, blinking in the empty space where Bokuto had been. Kaashi? He frowned slightly. That wasn’t even close.He stood still for a long moment, the faint echoes of Bokuto’s voice still lingering in the air around him. A strange warmth sat uncomfortably in his chest, something unfamiliar and… dangerous.He didn’t like this feeling.It was like the careful calm he’d built around himself had been yanked away without his permission, leaving him exposed. He tightened his grip on his bag, the shoes dangling from the side brushing against his leg as he moved.Volleyball had always been something he could control—an outlet for his focus, his precision. But now, it felt… different. Bigger. Messier.And somehow, in the span of just a few minutes, Bokuto Koutaro had made it feel even more so.-The encounter with Akaashi left a weird buzzing feeling in Bokuto’s chest, something he couldn’t quite shake as he walked through the halls toward his classroom.He was still riding the high of their brief interaction—Akaashi Keiji, setter. Beautiful setter. His mind repeated the phrase like it was the title of a song he couldn’t get out of his head.Bokuto weaving through the crowd of students without really paying attention to where he was going. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his uniform pants, but even that couldn’t keep him from feeling like his heart was about to leap out of his chest. The memory of Akaashi’s calm voice echoed in his head.Setter. Akaashi was a setter.It was like fate had dropped this moment into his lap, neatly wrapped with a bow.And, okay, maybe Akaashi had been a little bit awkward or maybe even reserved—but Bokuto knew talent when he saw it. He could feel it. There was something about Akaashi. Something that made him want to jump up and shout to the world that they had just found their new setter.Not to mention the fact that Akaashi was… well… beautiful.Bokuto’s thoughts stuttered. He wasn’t usually one to focus on things like that—especially not with someone he’d just met—but there was no denying it. Akaashi had this quiet intensity to him, a kind of presence that Bokuto found hard to ignore. The dark, wavy hair, the sharpness of his eyes, the way his voice was soft but carried weight…Bokuto shook his head quickly, trying to snap himself out of it. He needed to be cool when he saw Akaashi again, not… whatever this was.But still. Akaashi was a setter. And if he came to tryouts, if he really joined the team…Bokuto felt his pulse quicken again, his body practically vibrating with the thought of it. He couldn’t wait to see Akaashi on the court. The idea of working with someone like him—someone with the potential to be his perfect setter—was almost too exciting to handle.He hadn’t felt this charged up about something in a long time.By the time Bokuto made it to his classroom, he was still practically floating, his thoughts spinning like they were on fast-forward. The other students were already finding their seats, the low hum of conversations filling the air, but Bokuto couldn’t seem to focus on any of it.Akaashi, Akaashi, Akaashi.He dropped into his seat near the back, his gaze unfocused as he stared out the window, his mind replaying their conversation in slow motion. He had to play it cool next time they met. No yelling. Well, maybe a little yelling. But not too much.He could do that, right?Bokuto tapped his fingers against the edge of his desk, his knee bouncing under the table. God, why couldn’t it be time for tryouts already? He wanted to see Akaashi again. He wanted to see how that calm, quiet guy turned into a setter on the court. He just knew it was going to be amazing.“Yo.”The voice snapped Bokuto out of his thoughts, and he blinked, glancing over to see Konoha sliding into the seat beside him.Konoha raised an eyebrow, his eyes flicking over Bokuto with that knowing look he always had. “What’s up with you? You’re all… twitchy.”Bokuto’s grin returned immediately, though his mind was still buzzing. “I just… I think I met our new setter.”Konoha stared at him for a moment, waiting for more. “What?”“I’m serious!” Bokuto said, sitting up straighter and turning to face Konoha fully, his voice dropping like he was letting Konoha in on a secret. “I just met this guy. Akaashi Keiji. He’s a first-year. And he’s a setter.”Konoha’s expression didn’t change. He just blinked. “Okay…?”“No, no, no,” Bokuto waved his hand like he was brushing aside Konoha’s lack of enthusiasm. “You don’t get it. This guy? He’s gonna be our setter. He’s perfect. He’s cool and calm and—” Bokuto’s words came faster and faster as he gestured wildly, almost hitting Konoha in the face, “—he’s a setter, Konoha! And… and he’s also… kinda…”Bokuto’s voice trailed off as his hands slowly dropped back down to the desk, and a soft grin spread across his face. “He’s… kinda beautiful, actually.”Konoha’s eyes widened slightly, his eyebrows lifting. “Beautiful?”“Yeah,” Bokuto said, nodding more to himself than to Konoha. “I mean, in a cool way. You know?”Konoha stared at him for a long moment, and then his mouth twitched into a smirk. “You’re staring off into space again, man. That can’t be good.”“I’m not staring,” Bokuto said, quickly looking back toward the window, though he was absolutely staring.“Yeah, sure,” Konoha replied, leaning back in his chair. “But hey, I guess if this guy shows up to tryouts, we’ll see if he lives up to all this… angelic hype you’re giving him.”Bokuto turned back to Konoha with a sudden spark of energy. “Oh, he’s coming. I’m sure of it.”Konoha chuckled, shaking his head. “Right. So now you’re a mind reader?”“I don’t have to be,” Bokuto said with a grin. “When you meet someone like that, you just know.”-Akaashi stood just outside the gymnasium doors, his hand hovering over the cool metal handle. The faint echoes of shoes squeaking against polished wood and the rhythmic thud of volleyballs being struck reverberated through the door, filling the quiet hallway. He could already feel the buzz of energy from inside, a pulse that thrummed against his skin, urging him to move forward—or to turn back.His eyes flicked to the volleyball shoes tied in neat bows on his feet. He still wasn’t sure why he had come. Why had he packed them this morning? Why was he standing here now, on the brink of entering a world he wasn’t sure he wanted to be a part of?But then, Bokuto’s voice from that morning echoed in his mind.
“You’re coming, right?”
Akaashi exhaled slowly, squaring his shoulders. This didn’t have to be permanent. He would try out, see how it went. Nothing more than that.He tugged at the strap of his bag, pushing the gym doors open as quietly as possible and slipping inside.The gym was already full of activity—players warming up, balls flying through the air, the sound of drills being called out by a coach on the far end of the court. Akaashi kept his head down, blending in with the other first years who had gathered near the benches, none of them speaking much, all of them trying to figure out where they fit in this new environment.Akaashi’s gaze flickered around the gym, taking in the sight of the older players—the third years, with their easy confidence, their powerful spikes. The second years, a little more relaxed, were already chatting with each other, clearly comfortable in their roles.He kept to the edge of the court, doing his best to go unnoticed.But, of course, that didn’t last long.“Kaashi!”The shout echoed through the gym like a thunderclap. Heads turned. Akaashi flinched.Before he could react, Bokuto was in front of him, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.“Bokuto-san.”“I knew you’d come, Kaashi!” Bokuto said, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his energy vibrating in every direction. “I told everyone we’d be getting a new setter, and they didn’t believe me, but look! Here you are!”Akaashi blinked, his mind racing to catch up with the sudden whirlwind that was Bokuto. “It’s Akaashi,” he muttered, trying to correct him, but Bokuto was already moving forward at full speed, grabbing Akaashi’s arm and pulling him toward the center of the gym.“Whatever! Close enough. Kaashi is easier to say anyway!” Bokuto said with a grin. “Come on, you gotta meet everyone!”Akaashi opened his mouth to protest again, but Bokuto’s enthusiasm was already sweeping him into the chaos before he could get another word out. He wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or amused.Still, as he stumbled after Bokuto, Akaashi found himself feeling something unexpected. Something warm. It was strange to be pulled into someone’s orbit so completely, to have his name—his identity—taken and made into something new with such ease. He didn’t like it… but he didn’t hate it, either.Akaashi’s pulse quickened, as he stumbled after Bokuto, who was already launching into introductions before they’d even made it halfway across the court.“This is Konoha!” Bokuto said, stopping in front of a tall, lean player with calm eyes and an easy smile. “He’s one of the smartest guys on the team, but don’t tell him I said that.”Konoha rolled his eyes, but the smile didn’t leave his face. “Bokuto’s been talking about you all day,” he said, his tone casual but kind. “A setter, right?”Akaashi nodded, feeling the warmth creep into his cheeks again. “Yeah.”“Well, good luck. We’ve got some pretty strong third years, but Bokuto’s been dying for a new setter to join the team.” Konoha gave Bokuto a side glance. “You’ve probably noticed how subtle he is about it.”Akaashi didn’t have time to respond before Komi appeared at his side, his sharp eyes scanning Akaashi with a quick, appraising look. “You better be good,” Komi said, his voice playful but with an edge of seriousness. “We don’t need a weak link out there.”“Stop scaring him, Komi,” Konoha said with a grin.“I’m not scared,” Akaashi said automatically, his voice even, though his pulse was still racing. He didn’t like being the center of attention.But before the conversation could go any further, a different group of third years entered the gym, and the atmosphere changed. The energy shifted.Akaashi noticed it immediately—the way the younger players straightened up, the way conversations quieted. Even Bokuto, who had been talking non-stop since Akaashi arrived, seemed to dim slightly, his posture stiffening as his eyes flicked toward the door.The third years stepped onto the court, their presence commanding attention without having to say anything. They were taller, broader, and carried the weight of experience on their shoulders. Sugimoto, the current third-year setter, walked in the middle, his gaze sweeping the gym like he was sizing everyone up.Akaashi’s eyes flicked to Sugimoto for a moment. There was something about his posture, the way he walked, that suggested he wasn’t entirely happy to see Akaashi standing there.Sugimoto’s eyes landed on Akaashi for just a second—long enough to make Akaashi’s skin prickle—before he turned away, heading toward the coach.Beside him, Bokuto’s usual grin had faded into something more subdued, his eyes locked on the third years with a quiet intensity that Akaashi hadn’t seen before.“Bokuto,” one of the third years called, his voice calm but carrying an edge.“Try not to break anything today.”The comment was quiet, but Akaashi caught it. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but he noticed the way Bokuto’s jaw tightened, the way his hands clenched into fists for just a moment before he forced himself to relax.Bokuto didn’t respond. He just nodded, his usual energy contained behind a tight smile.Akaashi’s chest tightened. Something was off.The drills started off simple—passing, receiving, setting—but Akaashi could feel the tension building with every hit, every step. He kept his head down, focusing on his own movements, but he couldn’t help noticing the quiet glances exchanged between the third years and Bokuto.Sugimoto was a solid setter, his sets precise and controlled, but something was off. Every time Bokuto leapt for a spike, his timing seemed just a fraction of a second behind, the connection not quite there.Akaashi watched as Bokuto’s spikes, usually so powerful and clean, hit the net or went wide more often than they landed. Each miss seemed to weigh heavier on Bokuto’s shoulders, his movements becoming more rigid, his expression tighter.The third years didn’t say anything directly, but Akaashi could feel their eyes on Bokuto. Judging. Waiting.Bokuto’s frustration was almost palpable.As Akaashi moved through the drills, he could feel Bokuto’s eyes on him, too—watching every set. Every time Akaashi made a good pass, Bokuto’s face lit up, his earlier frustration momentarily forgotten.But the tension didn’t disappear. Sugimoto’s sets were too stiff, too predictable, and Bokuto’s frustration only grew with each missed spike.By the time the scrimmage started, the gym felt like it was on the verge of boiling over.The whistle finally blew, signaling the end of practice. Akaashi stood to the side, grabbing his water bottle from his bag as the team slowly began to disperse. The energy in the gym was tense, and it was clear that Bokuto’s frustration hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of the team.The third years had already disappeared into the locker room, their quiet, pointed remarks about Bokuto still echoing in Akaashi’s mind.Akaashi glanced toward Bokuto, who was standing at the far end of the gym, his hands on his hips, staring at the floor. The usual brightness in his eyes was gone, replaced by something sharper. More frustrated.Akaashi frowned, his gaze lingering for a moment before Konoha appeared beside him, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a towel. He followed Akaashi’s gaze, then sighed, tossing the towel over his shoulder.“Wondering what that’s all about?” Konoha asked, his tone light but knowing.Akaashi didn’t say anything right away, but he didn’t need to. His silence was answer enough.Konoha smirked, shaking his head. “Yeah, the third years… they’ve never really gotten along with Bokuto. Not since last year.”Akaashi’s eyes flicked toward Konoha, curious. “Why?”Konoha leaned against the bench, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Bokuto from across the gym. “It’s more than just his energy,” he said, his voice casual. “I mean, Bokuto’s… a lot. You’ve seen that.”Akaashi nodded silently.“But it goes deeper than that.” Konoha shrugged. “Word got out last year that Bokuto made a comment about Sugimoto—their setter. He didn’t mean for anyone to hear, but… well, let’s just say the third years weren’t too happy about it.”Akaashi tilted his head slightly. “What did he say?”Konoha chuckled softly. “He said something like, ‘We’re never going to make it to nationals with a setter like Sugimoto.’”Akaashi blinked. The words hung heavy in the air between them.“That’s… pretty harsh,” Akaashi said quietly, though part of him wasn’t surprised. Bokuto, for all his energy and enthusiasm, didn’t seem like the kind of person who would hold back his thoughts. Especially when it came to volleyball.“Yeah, well, he wasn’t wrong,” Konoha replied with a shrug. “But you can imagine how well that went over with the third years.”Akaashi could imagine. Bokuto’s brash honesty, combined with his status as the team’s star player, must have felt like a direct challenge to the third years’ authority. Especially for someone like Sugimoto, who was supposed to be leading the team as setter.“It’s been tense ever since,” Konoha continued. “They tolerate him because, well… he’s Bokuto. But there’s always this undercurrent, you know? They don’t trust him. And he doesn’t trust them.”Akaashi’s gaze shifted back to Bokuto, who was now standing with his arms crossed, staring at the floor like he was fighting some internal battle.“I see,” Akaashi said quietly, the pieces slowly falling into place.“So yeah,” Konoha added, pushing off from the bench and grabbing his towel. “That’s why they’re always taking jabs at him. But… he doesn’t take it well, even if he tries to hide it.”Akaashi nodded, his mind turning over Konoha’s words. He watched as Bokuto glanced toward the exit, his frustration still palpable.Konoha clapped Akaashi on the shoulder as he passed by. “Good luck with him,” he said with a grin. “He’s not always easy, but… you’ll see.”Akaashi didn’t reply, but his eyes followed Konoha as he walked away, leaving him standing alone in the now mostly empty gym. The tension in the air was still there, but now it felt… different. More complicated.Bokuto had made a bold statement, and while it was clear that he hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, it was just as clear that the third years hadn’t forgotten.Akaashi’s gaze lingered on Bokuto, a sudden weight pressing against his chest. He didn’t like drama. He didn’t like tension. But the idea of leaving things as they were—leaving Bokuto to navigate this fracture alone—left an uneasy feeling twisting in his gut. He hadn’t decided anything yet. Not about volleyball. Not about Bokuto. But he could feel the scales tipping.Bokuto ran a hand through his hair, his frustration still evident as he stared at the ground. The earlier energy he’d had when Akaashi arrived had all but disappeared, replaced by something heavier. Something quieter.Akaashi thought back to what Konoha had said.Bokuto was carrying more than just the weight of his own performance. He was carrying the weight of the team’s expectations—and the knowledge that the third years didn’t trust him to get them to nationals or vice versa.“Kaashi.”Bokuto’s voice snapped Akaashi out of his thoughts, and he turned to see Bokuto looked at him with that same determined, desperate expression from earlier.“Yes, Bokuto-san?”“Would you… would you want to stay after and help me with my spikes?”Akaashi blinked, caught off guard. “I’m not even on the team yet.”Bokuto grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, but you will be. And I—” He hesitated for a second, his voice lowering. “I just… I need to get it right.”Akaashi studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Okay.”And with that, the tension in Bokuto’s shoulders seemed to ease, if only slightly. They grabbed a ball and moved back onto the court, the rest of the team slowly filtering out until it was just the two of them left in the empty gym.Akaashi took his position, the ball in his hands feeling solid and familiar. The ball left his fingers with perfect precision, the world slowing for just a second as he watched it arc through the air. Here, in these moments of control, everything else faded. The tension, the noise, the uncertainty—it all disappeared, leaving only the ball, his hands, and the perfect spike that followed.Bokuto launched himself into the air, his hand meeting the ball with a loud crack as it slammed into the court.The older landed, chest heaving, his eyes wide with something close to disbelief. The sound of the ball slamming into the court echoed in the empty gym.“That felt—“ he started, but cut himself off, grinning instead.There was something unspoken in his smile, something that told Akaashi this wasn’t just about hitting the ball. It was about trust. About finally getting it right.“Do it again,” Akaashi said, already moving into position for the next set.Bokuto grinned, the earlier tension finally starting to melt away as they fell into a rhythm, the gym echoing with the sound of perfect sets and powerful spikes.For the first time since tryouts started, Akaashi felt… in control.And Bokuto felt like he could breathe again.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The gym was quiet. The early morning light filtered through the high windows, casting soft shadows across the floor. The scent of dust and worn rubber filled Akaashi’s nose as he stood in the entrance, his hand hovering just above the metal handle.He hadn’t planned on coming here. Not this morning, not before school. After his brief, stilted breakfast at home, with his mother’s voice still echoing in his ears about staying focused and avoiding distractions, Akaashi had felt a knot tightening in his chest. It wasn’t something he could easily name, but it sat there, heavy and unmoving.His feet had carried him to the gym before he even realized it.Volleyball, the gym, this place—it wasn’t supposed to mean anything yet. But it was becoming something, wasn’t it? An escape. A space where the noise and pressure of home faded into the background, giving him space to think.The empty gym felt like a refuge. A place where he could collect his thoughts, control his breathing, and maybe—just maybe—forget, even for a moment, about the mounting pressure from his family. His mother’s disapproving looks, his father’s lectures, and his sister’s judgment were suffocating, pressing down on him until he couldn’t breathe.The door clicked softly as it shut behind him, and he took a step onto the court. His shoes made almost no sound on the polished wood. The gym’s high ceilings and large windows gave the space a quiet, empty vastness that settled over Akaashi like a blanket. The volleyball courts were marked neatly on the floor, the basketball nets hung limply from their hooks—everything in its place, calm, predictable.He hadn’t brought a ball, but that didn’t matter. Being here was enough. Just the lines on the court, the quiet of the empty gym, the faint hum of the air conditioning. This, at least, was something he could control.He breathed in slowly, letting the air fill his lungs, and exhaled, feeling the tension in his chest loosen.Here, he could think. Here, he could settle the chaos in his mind.His fingers brushed the smooth leather of his bag, where his volleyball shoes still hung from the side, their laces tucked into place. He hadn’t really planned on coming here, but why had he come? Why the gym, of all places? Why did it feel like the right place to be?Maybe it was the precision of the lines on the court, the way everything had a purpose. At home, everything was suffocating—his parents’ expectations, his sister’s silent judgment, the rigid structure of his life. But here? Here, things made sense.Akaashi let out a slow breath, feeling his shoulders relax for the first time that morning. The weight of his thoughts settled a little, leaving only the quiet buzz of his own heartbeat.He was good at managing pressure. He’d spent years perfecting the art of control, of staying calm in the face of chaos. But lately, things had felt… heavier. The demands from home. The pressure of high school. And now… volleyball.Or maybe… Bokuto.He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the second-year ace with the wild hair and the unstoppable energy. Bokuto, with his loud voice and his confidence that filled every inch of space around him, had an intensity that was hard to ignore. He’d pulled Akaashi into his orbit so effortlessly, called him Kaashi like they’d known each other for years, like there was no need for distance or formality.Akaashi wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He wasn’t even sure why it bothered him so much. But there was something about Bokuto that threw his carefully constructed balance off-kilter. He tried to push the thought away, tried to focus on the stillness of the gym, but…
“Kaashi!”
Bokuto’s voice cut through his thoughts, clear and bright, as if the memory itself had taken on a life of its own.Akaashi frowned, the tightness in his chest returning. The gym was supposed to be a place to clear his head, not fill it with more confusion.He shook his head slightly, brushing the thought aside. Focus.As the bell for first period drew near, Akaashi left the gym and headed down the hallway toward his homeroom. His footsteps echoed in the quiet hall, and the slight tension that had been building in his chest all morning had finally started to ease. He adjusted the strap of his bag, already mentally preparing for the day ahead.That was, until he nearly bumped into Konoha coming around the corner.“Whoa,” Konoha said, raising a hand as Akaashi came to an abrupt stop just inches in front of him. His eyes flicked over Akaashi, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Didn’t expect to see you this early.”Akaashi blinked, trying to gather himself. He hadn’t noticed how fast he’d been walking. “I was… in the gym.”“Before school?” Konoha raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t think you were one for early morning workouts.”“I wasn’t practicing,” Akaashi said quickly, his tone more defensive than he intended. He cleared his throat, his hands tightening around the strap of his bag. “I just needed some quiet.”Konoha tilted his head slightly, studying Akaashi with that calm, almost lazy gaze he always had. He didn’t push, but the smirk on his lips softened a little.“Everything alright, Kaashi?”The use of Bokuto’s nickname caught Akaashi off guard, and he opened his mouth to correct him—it’s Akaashi—but stopped. Konoha’s tone wasn’t mocking, and there was something almost comforting about the way he said it.Akaashi shook his head. “I’m fine.”“Sure,” Konoha said, though the smirk was already returning to his lips. “You know, Bokuto’s actually a better listener than me. People think he’s all loud and wild—and, well, he is—but when it counts, he’s got a good ear.”Akaashi blinked. Bokuto, a good listener? He found that hard to believe. Bokuto didn’t seem capable of sitting still long enough to listen, let alone process someone else’s thoughts. He was always bouncing, always moving.But Konoha’s expression was genuine, his voice quieter than usual.“If you ever need to talk, he’s not bad for that kind of thing,” Konoha added. His eyes flicked to Akaashi’s bag and the shoes hanging off the side. “Especially if it’s about volleyball. He’ll listen to anything that has to do with that.”Akaashi frowned, a quiet confusion settling over him. Why was Konoha bringing this up? Did he look stressed? Was it that obvious? Did Konoha know something about the storm brewing inside him that even Akaashi was struggling to name?He opened his mouth to ask, but before he could say anything, Konoha clapped him on the shoulder.“Anyway, see you at practice, Kaashi,” Konoha said with a grin, before walking past him, whistling a quiet tune.Akaashi stood there for a moment, Konoha’s words hanging in the air between them. There was an odd warmth creeping into his chest. He didn’t want to think about Bokuto right now, but the thought of him was impossible to ignore.He adjusted his bag and turned toward class, trying to shove the unwelcome thoughts aside. Volleyball was supposed to be his outlet, not something to add to the growing pile of uncertainties in his life. And yet, the line between volleyball and Bokuto was starting to blur in ways that made Akaashi’s pulse quicken.-Konoha entered the classroom after his brief encounter with Akaashi, dropping into his usual seat beside Bokuto with a quiet sigh. Bokuto, already staring out the window with his thoughts elsewhere, barely registered Konoha’s arrival. His leg was bouncing under the desk, and his fingers were drumming a steady rhythm on the surface, but his mind was clearly someplace else.“Akaashi…” Bokuto muttered under his breath, lost in thought.Konoha smirked as he pulled his notebook out of his bag and slid into his chair. “Still thinking about him, huh?”Bokuto jolted upright, blinking rapidly as he turned to Konoha. “What? No! I mean—well, yeah, but not in a weird way. Just… you know. He’s our setter. Probably. I hope so. He’s gotta be.”Konoha rolled his eyes. Bokuto’s intensity was nothing new, but it never failed to amuse him.“You know,” Konoha said, leaning back in his chair, his tone casual but with that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. “I ran into your Akaashi this morning.”Bokuto’s head snapped in his direction, his expression instantly brightening. “You did? What was he doing? Was he headed to class? Did he say he’s definitely coming to practice? Did he say anything about me?”Konoha chuckled, raising a hand. “Calm down, man. You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack.”Bokuto leaned in, his eyes wide with excitement. “But what did he say?”Konoha shrugged, his gaze turning a bit more thoughtful. “He looked a little… stressed, actually. Said he’d been in the gym before school, just needed some quiet.”Bokuto frowned slightly, his usual exuberance faltering for a moment. “Stressed? Like, nervous about the team?”“Dunno,” Konoha said with a nonchalant shrug. “But it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on him. The kid’s quiet, but there’s a lot going on up here,” he added, tapping his temple.Bokuto nodded slowly, his brow furrowing. “Kaashi doesn’t say much, does he? He’s always so calm… but now that I think about it, maybe he’s nervous or something. I mean, trying out for the volleyball team is a big deal.”Konoha chuckled, shaking his head. “Or maybe it’s not about volleyball. Could be family stuff, school pressure, whatever. But, like I said, it doesn’t hurt to be a little more… aware of him, you know? Especially if you want him to feel comfortable joining the team.”Bokuto’s frown deepened, and he straightened up in his seat. “You’re right. I didn’t think about that.”Konoha shot him a look, eyebrow raised. “You? Not thinking? That’s new.”Bokuto pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Hey, I think about stuff! Especially when it’s important!”“Uh-huh,” Konoha said with a grin. “Anyway, just… keep an eye on him. I’ve got a feeling about the kid. He’s solid. But he’s also got a lot on his mind.”Bokuto nodded slowly, his thoughts already shifting back to Akaashi. He was always so focused on making Akaashi the team’s setter, on convincing him to join, that he hadn’t really considered what else might be going on with him. Akaashi was calm and composed, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have his own stuff to deal with.“Alright,” Bokuto said quietly. “I’ll… pay more attention. But, you know, in a cool way. Not like I’m hovering or anything.”Konoha chuckled, leaning back in his chair again. “Sure. Just don’t scare him off. He’s not like you, Bokuto. He’s… quieter. More… controlled.”Bokuto shot him a determined look. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he feels welcome.”Konoha smirked, his gaze flicking toward the front of the classroom as the teacher entered. “That’s what I like to hear, man. Good luck.”Bokuto nodded, though his mind was already elsewhere—on the younger boy with the quiet intensity, the setter who seemed so calm and collected on the outside but was clearly dealing with something beneath the surface. Akaashi might not show it, but Bokuto had seen enough to know that even the calmest people had their breaking points.He wasn’t going to let Akaashi reach his.-The classroom felt stuffier than usual, the warm sunlight pouring in through the windows making everything seem just a little too bright. Akaashi sat at his desk, his notebook open, the clean page in front of him ready to be filled with the day’s notes. But for some reason, he found his mind wandering, his thoughts drifting in a way they usually didn’t.From his seat, the gym building was just barely visible through the window. The familiar place where they practiced every afternoon, where the rhythm of the ball hitting the court had started to become something he looked forward to. Akaashi’s gaze lingered on the building for a moment, his pen hovering above the paper.He shouldn’t be distracted.But ever since practice started—ever since he’d met Bokuto—his thoughts had been… less focused. Not in a chaotic way, but… different.It wasn’t that Akaashi was losing control. He was still in control. His grades were still fine. His work was still meticulous. But there was something lingering at the edge of his mind, something pulling him toward the gym more than it should.Or maybe, more toward… Bokuto.Akaashi frowned, tapping his pen lightly against the edge of his notebook.His thoughts flickered back to practice, to the way Bokuto moved on the court. There was something about it—the way he jumped so effortlessly, the way his muscles tensed and released with each spike. There was a fluidity to it, a kind of natural grace that Akaashi couldn’t help but notice.He blinked, his grip tightening on the pen, the faint warmth creeping into his chest again. His thoughts were wandering too much.He shook his head slightly. No. He couldn’t think about that. It wasn’t important. It was just volleyball. Just the game.But as he turned his attention back to the teacher, the image of Bokuto’s sharp movements, his powerful jumps, and the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt lingered stubbornly in the back of Akaashi’s mind.-The sound of the volleyball echoed through the gym as practice began. Akaashi moved through the drills with his usual precision, his hands steady, his sets clean and controlled. Each pass was calculated, every set perfectly timed. It should have felt calming. Predictable.But as the practice wore on, his gaze kept drifting back to Bokuto.It wasn’t intentional—at least, he didn’t think it was. But every time Bokuto leapt into the air, every time his body twisted mid-spike, Akaashi’s eyes followed him. He couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly Bokuto moved, how natural it seemed for him to glide across the court, his sharp muscles visible under his practice jersey, the way his hair seemed to spike even higher with each jump.Akaashi blinked, frowning to himself as he tried to refocus on the drill. This wasn’t like him. He was supposed to be paying attention to his own movements, his own sets. But his mind kept wandering back to Bokuto, the way he seemed to fill the space around him.“Kaashi!” Bokuto called for the toss.Bokuto’s voice rang out across the gym, bright and enthusiastic as always. Akaashi barely even flinched anymore when he heard it—he was starting to get used to the nickname, as much as he hated to admit it.Akaashi set the ball, his hands moving with perfect precision as it arced through the air toward Bokuto.He watched, as he always did, as Bokuto leapt into the air, his body twisting mid-jump, his eyes focused on the ball with that same intensity. Bokuto’s spike hit the court with a resounding thud, the power behind it sending the ball bouncing out of bounds.Bokuto turned, grinning wide. “We’re killing it today, Kaashi! You’re setting like a pro!”Akaashi nodded, his expression calm, but his heart was beating just a little faster than usual.His eyes lingered for just a second longer on Bokuto’s form—on the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin. He didn’t mean to stare, didn’t mean to notice, but…Akaashi turned away quickly, his hands clenching into fists. No. He couldn’t think about that. He shouldn’t be thinking about that.After practice ended, the rest of the team began to filter out of the gym, their voices fading as they left. But Akaashi lingered, watching as Bokuto remained on the court, still bouncing with energy, his eyes scanning the empty space as if he wasn’t ready to leave.“Kaashi!” Bokuto called, already jogging toward him with that familiar wide grin. “You up for staying late again? I need to work on my timing with those spikes. We were so close to getting it perfect today!”Akaashi hesitated, his gaze flicking toward the door where the last of the team was disappearing. He could leave. Head home. Return to the quiet, controlled life waiting for him there.But…“Sure,” Akaashi said softly, already moving toward the ball cart. “I’ll stay.”Bokuto’s grin widened, and Akaashi felt something in his chest loosen—just slightly.They moved back onto the court, quickly falling into the same rhythm they’d built over the past few days. Akaashi set the ball with his usual precision, and Bokuto’s spikes were sharp, powerful. As they practiced, Akaashi couldn’t help but notice again how natural Bokuto’s movements were, how his body seemed to move so effortlessly through the air. The way his shirt clung to his back, showing the faint outline of his muscles with each jump.Akaashi’s chest tightened again, but he pushed the thought aside. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about that. It didn’t matter.Bokuto landed after a particularly strong spike, his grin wide. “Did you see that, Kaashi? We’re totally in sync!”Akaashi nodded, his expression calm, though there was a small flicker of something else beneath the surface. Satisfaction. Maybe even… pride.But there was something else there, too. Something that made Akaashi’s heart beat just a little faster than it should.The gym echoed softly with the sound of a ball bouncing against the court as Akaashi and Bokuto moved through their usual post-practice routine. It had become something of a habit now—staying late to practice together, just the two of them, perfecting their timing, working on Bokuto’s spikes. It was quiet without the rest of the team, the gym dimly lit with only the sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished floor and the rhythmic thud of the volleyball filling the space.Akaashi’s sets were crisp and precise, the ball leaving his fingers in a perfect arc, and Bokuto, with his usual energy, launched himself into the air, his spikes hitting the floor with that same satisfying crack each time. They’d fallen into a rhythm, a natural flow that felt as seamless as the game itself.But tonight, there was something different. A quiet weight lingering in the air that Akaashi couldn’t quite place.Bokuto landed after another strong spike, his chest heaving slightly, but his usual wide grin seemed a little softer, his eyes flickering with something… quieter.“Alright, let’s call it,” Bokuto said, finally letting out a long breath as he rested his hands on his knees.Akaashi nodded, feeling the same subtle exhaustion settle into his bones. He hadn’t realized how late it had gotten—the gym was nearly empty now, the last of the other athletes long gone. He moved to gather the stray volleyballs, tucking them back into the cart as the quietness of the space settled around them.As they packed up, the familiar sound of the gym doors creaking open and shut seemed louder in the empty room. Akaashi bent down to untie his volleyball shoes, slipping them off with practiced efficiency, his mind already drifting toward the quiet walk home. The cool night air would be welcome after the heat of practice, but the thought of returning home felt heavy.Just as Akaashi stood to leave, he felt Bokuto’s presence beside him, his energy always a little more noticeable in the stillness. He glanced up, expecting Bokuto’s usual burst of enthusiasm, but what he saw instead stopped him.Bokuto’s golden eyes were steady, softer than Akaashi had ever seen them, and for a moment, there was a strange tension in the air—a kind of anticipation, like something was about to shift.“Hey, Kaashi,” Bokuto started, his voice quieter than usual, almost careful, like he was weighing his words. “I know you’re still figuring things out… about the team and stuff. And I’m probably not the best at this… but I just wanted to say, you know—if you ever need anything. Like, anything at all. I’m here. We’re all here.”Akaashi blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected seriousness in Bokuto’s voice. His mind tried to catch up with the words, but they hung in the air between them, soft and yet… so bold.Bokuto scratched the back of his head awkwardly, a small, sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “I mean, not just for volleyball. But… you know, outside of it too. If you ever need to talk. Or not talk. Whatever.” He shrugged, his grin widening slightly, though there was an undeniable sincerity in his eyes.Akaashi stared at him, unsure how to respond. The usual rush of words, the noise, the endless energy—none of that was there. Instead, Bokuto was standing in front of him, quiet and earnest, offering something more than just volleyball.Offering… a place.For a moment, Akaashi’s mind flickered back to the empty feeling that often lingered in his house—the cold, controlled conversations with his parents, the silent judgment from his sister. His family was full of expectations, rules, and distance. But here, in the gym, with Bokuto’s strange mixture of exuberance and sincerity, it felt… different.Warmer.Akaashi felt a strange tightness in his chest, something unfamiliar and uncomfortable, but at the same time… comforting.Bokuto was still watching him, his grin softening again. “I know I’m a lot sometimes,” he added with a small laugh. “But… I just want you to know you’ve got a place here. With us.”Akaashi felt his breath catch, the weight of those words settling in a way he hadn’t expected. A place. With us.For the first time, it felt like something more than just a volleyball team. It felt like the start of something… else. Something bigger than himself. The team was loud, unpredictable, and messy, but it was starting to feel like home in a way that his house never did.Akaashi’s mind swirled with the weight of Bokuto’s words. He wasn’t sure how to respond. His throat felt tight, his thoughts tangled in a way that made it hard to speak, but as he thought about it—about the gym, the team, Bokuto—he felt a sense of clarity cut through the noise.This was the place for him.“I’ll join,” Akaashi said quietly, the words leaving his lips before he even realized he’d spoken them.Bokuto blinked, his eyes widening. “Wait, what?”Akaashi looked up, meeting Bokuto’s gaze with a steady calmness. He had already made the decision—he’d made it the moment Bokuto asked if those were volleyball shoes hanging out of his bag. “I’m joining the team.”For a split second, Bokuto just stared, as if the words hadn’t fully registered. Then, all at once, his face split into the widest grin Akaashi had ever seen.“YES!” Bokuto practically shouted, his voice bouncing off the gym walls. He threw his hands up in the air, practically bouncing in place. “I knew it! I knew you’d join, Kaashi! We’re going to be unstoppable!”Akaashi couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. Bokuto’s enthusiasm was overwhelming, as always, but there was something about his reaction that warmed Akaashi in a way he couldn’t quite explain. It wasn’t just about the team—it was about belonging.Bokuto grinned even wider, if that was possible, and clapped Akaashi on the shoulder with so much force that Akaashi nearly stumbled. “This is going to be amazing! You have no idea how much this means! We’re going to crush it out there!”Akaashi nodded, still smiling softly, though a part of him felt like something bigger had shifted. It wasn’t just about volleyball anymore. It was about finding a place where he could let go, even just a little. A place where he didn’t have to be perfect. A place where he mattered.“I’m looking forward to it,” Akaashi said, his voice steady.Bokuto beamed, his usual energy returning full force. “You’re not going to regret this, Kaashi. I promise.”They packed up the rest of their things, Bokuto still buzzing with excitement, throwing out plans for the next practice, strategies for the upcoming matches, his voice bouncing from topic to topic as they walked toward the gym doors. Akaashi didn’t mind the noise. In fact, for the first time, it felt comforting.As they stepped out into the cool night air, Bokuto bounced a few steps ahead, his voice still carrying through the empty courtyard as he rambled on about drills and training schedules. Akaashi followed at a slower pace, his thoughts quieter now, more settled.The decision had been made, but it didn’t feel like a burden.For the first time in a long while, Akaashi felt like he had a place.A home.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Bokuto had always been an early riser.Before the sun even touched the sky, he was out of bed, lacing up his running shoes. The air was cool and crisp, the streets still quiet as he darted through his neighborhood, the steady rhythm of his footsteps and the sound of his breathing the only company he needed at this hour. Early morning runs had become a ritual—something that allowed him to clear his mind, to focus, to feel the day before anyone else was truly awake. There was something about being the first to experience the quiet world before the chaos of school and practice set in. It grounded him, centered him in a way that nothing else quite could.The route was familiar—down the street, past the small park, around the block near the school, and back home. By the time he returned, the sky had turned a soft pink, and the warm light of sunrise was beginning to spread over the rooftops, casting long shadows over the quiet streets. The feeling of fresh sweat cooling against his skin left him invigorated. His muscles hummed with that satisfying ache of exertion, and he could already feel the day unfolding before him.Bokuto wiped the sweat from his forehead as he stepped back inside his house, kicking off his shoes by the door. The scent of breakfast drifted from the kitchen—his mother’s signature tamagoyaki and miso soup, the comforting smell filling the air. He could already hear the familiar sounds of his sisters chattering around the table, their lively voices mingling with the soft clinking of dishes.“Good run, Kou?” his mom asked as he slid into his usual seat at the breakfast table, her eyes warm with the kind of affection that could make even the busiest of mornings feel comforting.“Yeah!” Bokuto beamed, grabbing a piece of tamagoyaki from the plate in front of him, “Best way to start the day!”His older sister, Miki, rolled her eyes from across the table. “You say that every morning.”“And it’s true every morning!” Bokuto grinned, completely unfazed by her teasing. “I don’t get why you won’t just join me already.”Miki scoffed lightly, shaking her head as she poked at her own breakfast. “I prefer to sleep like a normal person, thank you.”“Boring,” Bokuto shot back with a grin before turning to his younger sister, Natsumi, who was watching the exchange with a bright, eager smile.“I’m gonna start running with you one day!” Natsumi announced proudly, her small hands gripping her chopsticks with the same kind of determination Bokuto saw in himself.“I’ll hold you to that,” Bokuto said, tousling her hair as she beamed up at him. “You’re gonna have to wake up way earlier, though.”Natsumi nodded slowly, her enthusiasm faltering slightly as the reality of early mornings sank in. Her face scrunched in mild disgust at the thought, earning a laugh from Bokuto and his other sister, Kana.Breakfast at the Bokuto house was always lively. His two older sisters, Miki and Kana, would trade playful jabs, teasing Bokuto for his boundless energy, while Natsumi tried to keep up with the conversation, often chiming in with her own innocent commentary. Bokuto loved it—the noise, the energy, the constant hum of life. It was home.His mom, ever the calm anchor of their family, would occasionally chime in with a gentle reminder about finishing breakfast or getting to school on time, but mostly she let her kids’ chatter fill the room. It was moments like these that made Bokuto realize how much he cherished the everyday, the simple routines that made life feel steady.As Bokuto inhaled another bowl of miso soup, his mom gave him a fond look, her gaze lingering on her son with the kind of softness that came from years of watching him grow into the person he was. “You’ve got a big tournament coming up soon, don’t you?” she asked, her voice tinged with a quiet pride.Bokuto nodded enthusiastically, practically bouncing in his seat. “Yeah, we’re getting ready! Practices have been intense, but we’ve got a good shot.”His mom smiled, the lines around her eyes crinkling in that familiar way that always made Bokuto feel like everything was going to be okay. “I’m sure you’ll do great, Kou. Just make sure you get enough sleep, okay? I know how you get when volleyball’s on your mind.”“I know, I know,” Bokuto said, waving her off, though secretly appreciating the concern. It was true—volleyball was constantly on his mind, buzzing around his thoughts like a live wire, keeping him awake at night as he replayed games in his head, imagining spikes and blocks, sets and serves. But his mom always knew when to remind him to slow down, to take care of himself in the midst of it all.Breakfast wrapped up quickly, and soon Bokuto was heading out the door, his school bag slung over one shoulder and his volleyball shoes tucked neatly inside. The early morning quiet had given way to the bustling sounds of students heading to school, and Bokuto was already buzzing with energy, ready to tackle the day.-School came easily to Bokuto—not that he bragged about it. Most people only ever saw the loud, energetic side of him, the side that thrived on volleyball and laughter. But there was another side to Bokuto, one that wasn’t as obvious to those who didn’t know him well. He didn’t feel the need to announce his academic success to anyone, but the truth was, he excelled in school without much effort.Advanced math, science, literature—he absorbed it all like a sponge, his sharp mind effortlessly retaining information. His grades were consistently at the top of his class, though most people assumed his brain was solely occupied by volleyball. He didn’t mind the assumption. It wasn’t like he cared what people thought about his grades anyway. Bokuto was the type of guy who lived in the moment, focusing on the things that made him happy.As Bokuto settled into his first class of the day, the hum of students around him faded into the background. The early morning run had left him energized, and he was already looking forward to practice later. But as his teacher began writing on the board, Bokuto’s mind drifted.
Akaashi.
Lately, he found himself thinking about Akaashi more often than he’d expected. It wasn’t weird, he told himself. They were friends—good friends. Bokuto had taken to seeking Akaashi out during breaks between classes, hanging around his locker or waiting for him after school. They walked to practice together almost every day now, and sometimes, they stayed late after practice to work on drills, just the two of them. It wasn’t weird at all.But… there was something different about Akaashi. Something that made Bokuto feel like he wanted to be around him more than anyone else. It wasn’t just that Akaashi was an amazing setter, or that they worked well together on the court. There was something else—something Bokuto couldn’t quite put into words.He shook his head, trying to focus back on the lesson. No point in overthinking it. Akaashi was his friend. His teammate. That was all.The hours passed quickly, as they always did for Bokuto. School was a comfortable rhythm—less exciting than volleyball, sure, but still something he enjoyed. He thrived in routine, finding comfort in the predictability of it all. But by the time lunch rolled around, his excitement to see Akaashi again had built up, and he practically bounced into the cafeteria, his usual enthusiasm on full display.-Akaashi sat at the usual spot—near the windows with Bokuto, Konoha, and Komi. It had become their regular lunch table, a place where Akaashi had found himself more often than not over the last few weeks. Somehow, without him fully realizing it, he had seamlessly integrated into their group, like a puzzle piece that clicked into place. And though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, it felt… nice.He wasn’t sure when it had started, but Bokuto had this way of pulling him into everything—sitting together at lunch, walking to practice together, staying late after school to work on their spikes. They had developed this unspoken routine, and Akaashi found himself getting used to it. It was easy to be around Bokuto, easy to fall into his orbit without resisting. And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind that.“Hey, Kaashi!” Bokuto greeted, his voice bright as he dropped into the seat beside Akaashi, the warmth of his presence immediate. Akaashi could already feel the familiar heat creeping into his chest. Bokuto’s closeness had become a constant in his life, but it never failed to catch him off guard. He was always touching, always finding a reason to bump shoulders or clap Akaashi on the back, and lately, Akaashi found himself looking forward to those moments of contact.“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi greeted in return, his voice even, though a slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He quickly busied himself with unpacking his lunch, trying to ignore the small flutter in his chest.As they started eating, Konoha leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand with a mischievous grin that Akaashi had come to recognize all too well. “So, Kaashi… you and Bokuto seem to be getting pretty close lately, huh?”Akaashi’s chopsticks paused mid-air, his stomach flipping at the comment. He glanced at Konoha, his face carefully neutral, but the heat rising to his cheeks was undeniable. “We’re teammates,” he replied, his voice calm and measured. “It’s natural.”Konoha chuckled, exchanging a look with Komi, who was already smirking. “Yeah, teammates. But the two of you are like an old married couple these days.”Akaashi’s fingers stilled over his chopsticks. Married couple? His pulse quickened slightly, though he kept his expression neutral. Was it that obvious? Did other people see it too? He could feel the warmth rising in his face, and he quickly focused back on his food, trying to push the thought away. It didn’t mean anything. It was just Bokuto being Bokuto. He was always this affectionate. Right?“It’s nothing like that,” Akaashi said, though the slight edge in his voice betrayed him. He tried to sound dismissive, but Konoha wasn’t letting it go that easily.“Uh-huh,” Konoha continued, his smirk widening. “You’re always sitting together, walking together, staying late at practice together… if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two were—”“What? What?” Bokuto interrupted, looking between Konoha and Akaashi with wide, curious eyes. “What are you talking about?”Konoha shook his head, clearly amused. “Nothing, Bokuto. Don’t worry about it.”Bokuto shrugged, completely oblivious to the implication, and went back to his lunch without another word. Akaashi, on the other hand, found himself staring down at his bento, trying to ignore the heat still spreading across his face. It didn’t mean anything, he reminded himself again. It was just Bokuto. Bokuto, who touched everyone. Bokuto, who treated him like a friend, like a teammate. That was all it was.Still, as the lunch hour continued, Akaashi couldn’t quite shake the thought from his mind.-The afternoon sun cast long shadows over the gym as the team gathered for another intense practice session. The upcoming tournament loomed large in everyone’s minds, and tensions were higher than usual—especially between the third years and Bokuto. It was a subtle thing, but the friction was there, simmering just beneath the surface.Sugimoto, the third-year setter, had seniority. He was solid, dependable—but Akaashi could feel the difference in the way the team played when Sugimoto was setting for Bokuto compared to when he was on the court. The chemistry just wasn’t the same. Not like it was with Akaashi.But still, Akaashi held back. He wasn’t one to make waves, especially not with seniority at play. It didn’t matter if Sugimoto started the games in the tournament. At least, that’s what Akaashi told himself. But deep down, there was a part of him—the competitive part—that wanted it. He wanted the chance to show everyone what he and Bokuto could do together.Throughout the practice, Bokuto’s frustration was more obvious than usual. His timing with Sugimoto was off, and each missed spike seemed to add another layer to his growing agitation. Akaashi could see it in the way Bokuto’s jaw clenched, in the way his eyes darkened with each failed connection.“Come on,” Bokuto muttered under his breath after another set fell short. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, his frustration written all over his face. “This isn’t working.”Akaashi, who had been watching from the side, could feel the tension radiating from Bokuto. He knew him well enough by now to sense when things were starting to boil over.“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said quietly as they moved into the next drill. “It’s fine. I don’t mind who plays in the tournament.”Bokuto turned to him, his eyes flashing with frustration. “But it’s not fine! You should be the one out there with me. We’ve been practicing for weeks now—our timing is perfect. I just don’t get why they’re—”“Don’t let it get to you,” Akaashi interrupted, his voice calm but firm. “We’ll have our time. Just be patient.”Bokuto sighed, running a hand through his hair as his expression softened slightly. “Yeah… I guess.”But the tension didn’t disappear. Throughout the rest of the practice, Bokuto’s frustration simmered just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over. Akaashi could feel it, even from across the court. But he did his best to keep his own emotions in check. He didn’t want to add fuel to the fire, even though part of him burned with the same frustration.As practice came to a close, Coach gathered the team together, his voice cutting through the lingering tension in the gym.“Alright, listen up!” Coach called, and the team fell into a loose circle around him. “After the tournament, we’ll be hosting a summer camp. We’ll have teams from around Tokyo coming to Fukurodani to train with us. It’ll be a great opportunity for us to get more game-time experience.”A murmur of excitement rippled through the team. A summer camp meant more chances to play, more opportunities to improve. Bokuto, in particular, looked like he was about to explode with enthusiasm at the idea.But as Akaashi stood there, listening to the coach’s announcement, a small knot of worry twisted in his stomach. His mind flickered back to his last science exam and the conversation he’d had with his parents afterward. If his scores didn’t improve, there was a very real possibility he wouldn’t be allowed to attend the camp. His parents had been clear about that.“I’ll need to pass my next science exam,” Akaashi murmured, half to himself. “Or I won’t be able to go.”“What?” Bokuto turned to him, concern flickering across his face. “You won’t be able to go? What are you talking about?”Akaashi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “My science scores. If I don’t improve, I won’t be allowed to participate.”Before Bokuto could respond, Komi chimed in from behind them. “Oh, that’s no problem. Bokuto’s a genius. He can help you study.”Akaashi blinked, surprised. “What?”“Yeah,” Komi continued, grinning. “Bokuto’s one of the top students in his class. Didn’t you know?”Akaashi turned to Bokuto, who was scratching the back of his head with an awkward laugh. “I mean, yeah, I guess. I’m alright at school stuff.”Akaashi’s mind raced as he processed the information. Bokuto? A genius? He hadn’t expected that.The gym was nearly empty as the team finished packing up their gear, but Akaashi’s thoughts were still swirling with the unexpected revelation.“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi started as they walked toward the exit, the cool night air greeting them as they stepped outside. “About the science exam… would you really be able to help me?”Bokuto grinned, his usual confidence returning full force. “Of course! I’d love to help you, Kaashi! We can study together, and you’ll crush that exam in no time.”Akaashi smiled, something warm settling in his chest at Bokuto’s easy reassurance. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”Bokuto clapped him on the back, his grin wide. “Don’t worry about it! We’re a team, right? I’ve got your back.”As they walked home, their steps falling into an easy rhythm, Akaashi couldn’t help but feel that something had shifted between them again. The line between friends, teammates, and something more had always been blurred—but now, with Bokuto offering his help so freely, so effortlessly, it felt even more unclear. The boundaries were becoming harder to define, and Akaashi wasn’t sure if he wanted to define them anymore.And maybe, just maybe, Akaashi was starting to be okay with that.-As they neared the usual spot where their paths split—Bokuto’s house a few blocks down the road to the right, and Akaashi’s to the left—the conversation naturally began to fade. The night had settled comfortably around them, the air cool and quiet, only the occasional hum of a passing car interrupting the stillness. Streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement, their dim glow adding an almost peaceful weight to the quiet walk.Bokuto slowed as they approached the corner, turning to Akaashi with a grin that hadn’t left his face since practice. “So, when do you wanna start studying? Tomorrow after practice? We can hit the books before your exam.”Akaashi shifted his bag on his shoulder, nodding lightly, though his mind was still processing the fact that Bokuto—Bokuto, of all people—was going to help him study. It felt… strange. But not in a bad way. If anything, it was a little reassuring to know that someone had his back, even when it came to something as mundane as academics.“Tomorrow works,” Akaashi replied, his voice steady, though his thoughts were swirling with questions he hadn’t yet found answers to. “Thanks again, Bokuto-san.”Bokuto shook his head with a laugh. “No need to thank me, Kaashi! Like I said, we’re a team. And once you pass that exam, we’ll crush it at the summer camp!” He shot Akaashi a wink before starting to bounce on his toes, clearly full of energy despite the late hour. “I’ll see you tomorrow! Get some sleep, okay?”Akaashi watched as Bokuto gave a final wave before turning down his street, the sound of his sneakers tapping against the pavement slowly fading into the night. As Bokuto disappeared around the corner, Akaashi found himself lingering a moment longer than usual, staring at the empty stretch of road ahead.It wasn’t until the night air pressed against his skin, cool and insistent, that he finally turned to make his way home. His thoughts, however, didn’t dissipate as easily as the sound of Bokuto’s footsteps had.The walk back was quiet, the kind of quiet that let Akaashi’s mind wander far more than he intended. Normally, he enjoyed the silence—the calm, predictable nature of it. But tonight, his thoughts were tangled, threads of uncertainty weaving through his mind in a way that made his chest feel strangely tight.It wasn’t just the upcoming exam that weighed on him, though the pressure from home was always there, a constant reminder of the expectations he needed to meet. It wasn’t even the tension at practice, though that had certainly made things more difficult recently.It was… Bokuto.Akaashi frowned, his pace slowing as he neared his house, his fingers tightening around the strap of his bag. The quiet street seemed almost too still, the weight of his thoughts heavy in the silence.He couldn’t quite explain what it was about Bokuto that left him feeling like this—this strange mix of confusion and warmth that settled deep in his chest whenever Bokuto was near. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was unfamiliar. Bokuto’s constant presence, his boundless energy, his casual touches—it was all so… overwhelming at times. And yet, Akaashi found himself drawn to it, to him, in a way that made him question everything he thought he knew about himself.It was the little things that lingered in his mind, like the way Bokuto’s grin could light up a room or the way his voice softened whenever he spoke directly to Akaashi, as if they were sharing some unspoken understanding. Bokuto made things seem easy, uncomplicated—like their bond was natural, something that didn’t need to be questioned or defined.But Akaashi was starting to question it.He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Bokuto had offered to help him study, the way he had said, “We’re a team,” like it was the most natural thing in the world. As if helping Akaashi was just another extension of their partnership on the court. But this felt different. It felt personal.Akaashi stopped at the front gate of his house, his gaze drifting up to the second-floor window where the soft glow of his room light spilled out into the night. His feet felt heavy, as if the weight of his thoughts had anchored him to the ground.He wasn’t used to this feeling. This uncertainty. Akaashi had always prided himself on his ability to control his emotions, to keep things compartmentalized and manageable. But when it came to Bokuto, nothing felt manageable anymore. The lines between teammate, friend, and something more were beginning to blur, and Akaashi wasn’t sure how to navigate that.Was it normal to feel this way about a friend? To feel this constant tug toward him, this inexplicable desire to be near him? To feel his absence like an empty space that couldn’t quite be filled?Akaashi exhaled slowly, his breath fogging in the cool night air. He had spent so much time trying to keep things under control, trying to stay focused on school, volleyball, and everything else that was expected of him. But now, with Bokuto in his life, things were shifting. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for that shift, but it was happening, whether he liked it or not.Tomorrow, he reminded himself. Tomorrow, they would study, and things would go back to normal. Whatever normal was.With that thought, Akaashi pushed open the gate and made his way up the path to his house. The familiar click of the front door as he entered was a small comfort, the quiet stillness of the house welcoming him like an old friend. He slipped off his shoes and padded up the stairs to his room, his thoughts still trailing behind him like shadows that refused to disappear.Once inside, Akaashi dropped his bag by the door and sat on the edge of his bed, his hands resting on his knees as he stared at the blank wall across from him. The silence of the room was a stark contrast to the noise in his head, a noise that seemed to grow louder with each passing minute.Bokuto’s face flashed in his mind—his grin, his laugh, the way his eyes softened when he talked to Akaashi. He could still hear the echo of Bokuto’s voice in the back of his mind: We’re a team, right? I’ve got your back.Akaashi closed his eyes, letting the weight of those words settle over him.
We’re a team.
But what did that really mean? What did it mean for him, for them?He wasn’t sure if he had the answer. But as he lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, one thing was clear.Bokuto wasn’t just his teammate anymore.And that realization… It scared him. But at the same time, it filled him with a sense of anticipation—a quiet excitement that he hadn’t felt in a long time.Because if there was one thing Akaashi knew, it was that Bokuto had a way of turning the most ordinary things into something extraordinary.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Akaashi stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt for what felt like the hundredth time. His reflection stared back at him, calm and composed on the surface, but beneath that façade was a churning sea of nerves. Today was important. More important than any practice or tournament. Bokuto was coming over to study.But it wasn’t just the studying that had him feeling on edge. No, it was dinner. Akaashi had known it would come eventually—introducing Bokuto to his parents, facing the inevitable scrutiny that would follow. He hadn’t told them much about volleyball since joining the team. In fact, he had avoided the topic entirely, choosing to slip home late in the evenings, hoping that the sound of clattering dishes and murmured conversations would mask his late returns. But tonight, there would be no hiding. His parents would see him with Bokuto, and there was no telling how they would react.“Keiji, your friend is here!” his sister’s voice echoed from downstairs.He sighed, giving himself one last look before heading down the stairs, his heart pounding with every step. When he reached the bottom, Bokuto stood in the entryway, his usual wide grin plastered on his face, looking completely at ease. He was dressed casually, a light jacket over his school uniform, and his energy seemed to fill the room as soon as he entered.“Kaashi!” Bokuto greeted brightly, waving as if they hadn’t seen each other earlier that day. His enthusiasm was contagious, and Akaashi couldn’t help but smile, even though his nerves were still very much present.“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi replied, his voice quieter than usual. “Thanks for coming.”Bokuto waved him off. “Of course! We’ve got to get those science scores up, right?” He clapped a hand on Akaashi’s shoulder, completely oblivious to the tension in the air.Akaashi’s eyes darted toward the dining room, where the faint sounds of his parents preparing dinner could be heard. His father’s voice was low and steady, his mother’s softer but still firm. They weren’t strict, not in the traditional sense, but they had expectations—unspoken rules about academics, success, and appearances. Volleyball wasn’t part of that plan.They stepped into the dining room, and Akaashi’s mother looked up first, her expression unreadable. His father followed suit, giving a small nod in acknowledgment of Bokuto’s presence.Bokuto smiled as he took in the room, though he could already feel the difference between Akaashi’s home and his own. The atmosphere here was quiet, almost… tense. His own family was always loud at dinner, full of laughter, teasing, and conversations that spilled over each other. But here? It was stiff. Like a play rehearsed too many times.“This is Bokuto Koutarou,” Akaashi said, gesturing to him. “He’s… a teammate. From volleyball.”Bokuto’s smile widened at the mention of volleyball, but he could feel the tension radiating from Akaashi beside him. The shift in the air was subtle, but Bokuto’s instincts picked it up immediately—there was something unspoken between Akaashi and his parents about volleyball, something that made his friend uncomfortable.“Oh, I wasn’t aware you were still participating in that,” Akaashi’s father said, his voice carrying a slight edge of disapproval that Bokuto didn’t miss.Bokuto frowned internally, though he didn’t show it. “Still participating?” he thought, confused by the tone. In his family, volleyball was a big deal—something to celebrate and be proud of. But here, it felt like it was something Akaashi had to hide.Akaashi swallowed, his voice even but tense. “Yes. I’ve been going to practice after school.”Bokuto could sense the discomfort in his friend’s posture. Akaashi rarely talked about his family, but now Bokuto was starting to understand why. This wasn’t like his house, where everyone shouted over each other, the energy high, playful. The air in the dining room felt… heavy.His father’s eyes flicked to Bokuto, then back to Akaashi. “I hope this volleyball nonsense isn’t cutting into your studies. You know how important your academics are.”Nonsense? The word hit Bokuto like a spike blocked at the net. He blinked, surprised at the dismissive tone. Volleyball wasn’t nonsense—it was his life. And he knew Akaashi was just as serious about it, even if he wasn’t as loud about it as Bokuto was.But before Bokuto could let his frustration show, he caught Akaashi’s nervous glance. That was all it took to calm him down. Instead of snapping back, Bokuto straightened his posture, letting his usual grin soften into something more respectful. He had to handle this carefully.“Don’t worry, sir,” Bokuto said, keeping his voice polite but firm. “Akaashi’s doing really well in school. We’re actually here to study tonight, to make sure he’s on track for his exams.”Out of the corner of his eye, Bokuto saw Akaashi blink in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected him to answer so smoothly. Bokuto wasn’t always the best with words, but he could read situations when he needed to. And right now, Akaashi needed him to help keep the peace.Akaashi’s mother gave a small smile at Bokuto’s words, clearly appreciating his politeness. “That’s good to hear,” she said, her tone lighter than her husband’s. “It’s always nice to see friends supporting each other in their studies.”Bokuto nodded, feeling a little more at ease now that the conversation had smoothed out. But as they all sat down for dinner, the unease lingered. The conversation was… different. Stilted, like a classroom discussion rather than a meal. His own family dinners were messy, noisy affairs, with his sisters teasing him and his mom reminding him to eat more vegetables. This felt more like an interview.The conversation dragged on, a series of polite questions from his parents that only served to deepen the tension in Akaashi’s chest. His father occasionally asked Bokuto about school or his plans for the future, while his mother made polite comments about the food or their upcoming exams. Bokuto, to his credit, navigated it all perfectly, answering each question with a warmth that managed to ease some of the discomfort.But then his father brought up volleyball again, and Akaashi braced himself.“It’s all well and good that you’re playing sports,” his father said, turning his attention back to Akaashi, “but I hope you’re not getting too caught up in it. After all, it’s just a game. It’s not going to take you anywhere.”Akaashi stiffened, the words hitting him like a physical blow. His father’s words weren’t just dismissive—they were condescending. He kept his eyes on his plate, resisting the urge to argue. But before he could say anything, Bokuto jumped in, once again saving him from having to respond.Bokuto felt a flash of irritation at the way Akaashi’s father brushed volleyball aside, but he didn’t let it show. He was used to people not understanding the sport’s importance, but to hear someone say it wasn’t going to take Akaashi anywhere? That rubbed him the wrong way.But instead of snapping back, Bokuto took a breath, keeping his voice respectful but firm. “Actually, sir,” he said, with a hint of pride, “volleyball can open a lot of doors. There are scholarships and career opportunities in the sport. It’s not just a game—it teaches discipline, teamwork, and perseverance. Things that help in all aspects of life.”For a moment, there was silence. Bokuto could feel Akaashi tense beside him, but he kept his focus on Akaashi’s father, who looked slightly taken aback by the response. There was a pause, and Bokuto wondered if he had overstepped, but then Akaashi’s father nodded, albeit slowly.“I see,” he said, his voice neutral. “Well, as long as it doesn’t interfere with your studies.”Bokuto’s shoulders relaxed a little, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was off. It wasn’t just about volleyball. There was something more here—something unspoken but heavy. He glanced at Akaashi, who gave him a small, grateful smile, but Bokuto could tell his friend wasn’t completely at ease.The rest of the dinner went by in stilted conversation. Akaashi’s mother kept asking polite, safe questions, but the unease never quite left the room. Then, near the end of the meal, Akaashi’s father spoke again, his tone casual, but the words made Bokuto’s brow furrow.“You know, Akaashi,” his father said, as if offering advice, “as you move forward in life, it’s important to keep your priorities straight. Focus on your academics, your career, and eventually finding a good woman to marry. Someone who compliments you and comes from a good family. We all want what’s best for you.”Bokuto blinked, glancing at Akaashi, whose grip on his chopsticks tightened just slightly. There was nothing overtly wrong with the statement, but something about the way it was said… rubbed Bokuto the wrong way. It felt like there was an implication there, something Akaashi wasn’t comfortable with.Bokuto wasn’t sure if it was his place to say anything, but the comment lingered in his mind. Marriage? It felt so distant, so disconnected from everything they were focused on now—volleyball, school, just being teenagers. Why was Akaashi’s dad bringing it up so seriously?Akaashi only nodded stiffly, offering no response, and the conversation quickly moved on, but Bokuto couldn’t shake the tension that had settled over the table. Something about the way Akaashi had reacted told him this wasn’t the first time he’d heard something like that.-After dinner, they retreated to Akaashi’s room, their steps light as they climbed the stairs. As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Akaashi let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His body sagged slightly, the tension from the dinner finally ebbing away now that they were out of earshot.“I’m sorry about that,” Akaashi muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “My parents… they’re not very supportive of volleyball.”Bokuto, already rifling through his bag, shook his head and waved him off. “It’s fine, Kaashi! Really. I get it. Parents worry about stuff like that.”But Akaashi wasn’t so sure. His parents’ concerns went beyond normal worry. There was always something unspoken, a rigidness in their expectations that weighed on him, heavier than he wanted to admit. He could tell by the furrow in Bokuto’s brow that he had noticed the tension too, even if he didn’t fully grasp the undercurrents that had rippled beneath the surface of their dinner conversation.He glanced at Bokuto—who was now setting up his textbooks and notes on Akaashi’s desk—and found himself wondering what kind of family dinners Bokuto was used to. He imagined they were loud and boisterous, full of teasing and laughter, with no looming pressure to be perfect. Akaashi had heard stories from Bokuto about his sisters and their lively home, but seeing Bokuto handle the strained atmosphere tonight made him realize just how different their worlds were.Bokuto’s smile hadn’t faltered once through the whole meal. He had navigated the conversation with such ease, even when Akaashi’s father had subtly undermined the value of volleyball. How did he do it? Akaashi wondered. How could Bokuto-san be so unfazed by things that weighed so heavily on him?“You handled that really well,” Akaashi said after a moment, his voice quieter, almost hesitant.Bokuto looked up, surprised. “What do you mean?”“The way you talked to my parents,” Akaashi clarified. “You… understood the situation.”Bokuto blinked, then shrugged with a small grin, scratching the back of his head. “Well, I kinda figured they wouldn’t be too thrilled about volleyball, so I just tried to show them how it’s more than just a game.” He paused, looking a little sheepish. “I didn’t wanna make things harder for you.”Akaashi stared at him for a moment, something warm and unfamiliar curling in his chest. It hit him again, just as it had during dinner—Bokuto wasn’t just the loud, energetic person everyone saw on the surface. He was thoughtful. He cared about the people around him, even if he didn’t always show it in the most conventional ways. He had known exactly how to navigate his parents’ rigid expectations, even without knowing the full story.“Thanks,” Akaashi said softly, sitting down beside him at the desk, his mind still whirling with thoughts he couldn’t quite name.“No problem,” Bokuto replied, flashing him a grin before diving into their study materials. “Now, let’s get you ready to ace that science exam!”Akaashi let out a quiet breath, grateful for Bokuto’s shift back to their usual banter. For now, at least, they could leave the tension of the dinner behind them.As they started going over the study materials, Bokuto fell into an easy rhythm, his explanations clear and concise, despite the usual scatterbrained persona he carried on the volleyball court. He made complicated concepts seem simple, breaking down Akaashi’s science notes with a precision that made Akaashi feel more confident with each passing minute.But even as they worked, Akaashi couldn’t fully focus. His thoughts kept drifting back to the dinner table, to the quiet weight of his father’s expectations, and then to Bokuto, who seemed to move through the world with a lightness Akaashi envied. He had noticed the differences before, of course, but tonight it was more pronounced. Bokuto’s family felt like a warm, open place, a place where he could be exactly who he was without constantly feeling judged or second-guessed. Akaashi’s home wasn’t like that.Not that his parents were cruel—they weren’t. But everything here felt measured, planned, and boxed into narrow definitions of success. Academics were always at the forefront, and anything outside of that was a distraction, something to be tolerated at best, dismissed at worst. His father’s comment about eventually marrying a woman who came from a “good family” had only solidified that sense of confinement, like his life was already written out for him in neat, inflexible lines.Bokuto, on the other hand, seemed completely free of that kind of pressure. Or if he wasn’t, he sure didn’t let it show.From Bokuto’s side of the desk, he glanced over at Akaashi, noticing how quiet he had gotten. Bokuto had seen this look on his friend’s face before—a kind of inward pull, as if Akaashi’s thoughts were spiraling somewhere far away. He paused, watching him for a moment, sensing the subtle shift in the air.Akaashi had been tense all night. Bokuto wasn’t great at reading into things like other people might be, but even he could feel that the dinner had been uncomfortable, like a conversation with a lot left unsaid. His family didn’t talk like that. They didn’t sit in silence or skirt around topics that felt heavy or awkward. If something needed to be said, it was said, even if it was messy. Bokuto was used to noise, to affection, to a warmth that Akaashi’s house seemed to lack.“Kaashi?” Bokuto asked, his voice gentle, bringing Akaashi back to the present. “You okay?”Akaashi blinked, his gaze refocusing on the textbook in front of him. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice steady despite the storm of thoughts in his head. “I’m fine.”But Bokuto wasn’t convinced. He wasn’t the best at picking up on subtleties, but there was something different about Akaashi tonight—something quieter, more withdrawn. He could tell Akaashi was holding something back, though Bokuto couldn’t quite figure out what it was.Still, he didn’t push. Instead, he nodded, giving Akaashi space to come back to the material, even as that nagging feeling stayed with him, wondering what exactly was weighing his friend down.The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, and a moment later, Akaashi’s older sister, Emiko, appeared in the doorway. She leaned against the frame, her arms crossed over her chest and a curious look in her eyes.“So,” she began, her gaze flicking between Akaashi and Bokuto, “studying, huh?”Akaashi nodded, his expression neutral, though his mind was still whirling. “Yes. Studying.”Emiko’s lips twitched, as if she were suppressing a smile. Her gaze lingered a little too long on Bokuto, her eyes narrowing slightly in that teasing, knowing way that only older sisters seemed to master. “Right. Just… studying.”Akaashi frowned, sensing the underlying implication in her tone. There it was again—something unspoken, something sharp, hidden beneath her words.“What’s that supposed to mean?” Akaashi asked, his voice tight.“Nothing,” Emiko replied innocently, though the teasing lilt in her voice was unmistakable. “Just making sure you’re both, you know… focused.”Akaashi felt his face heat up, irritation and embarrassment swirling together. Before he could come up with a retort, Bokuto chimed in with his usual enthusiasm, completely unfazed.“Don’t worry! We’re super focused! I’m helping Kaashi get ready for his science exam.”Emiko raised an eyebrow, her gaze shifting to Bokuto. “Kaashi, huh?”Akaashi’s stomach flipped, heat rushing to his face. He shot his sister a warning look, but she only smirked, clearly enjoying herself.“Well, good luck with your studying,” she said, her voice light but her eyes sharp as she turned to leave. “And don’t forget—mom and dad like to check in, so… keep the door open.”Akaashi’s face burned as she disappeared down the hall, and Bokuto let out a laugh, shaking his head as he turned back to the desk.“She seems cool,” Bokuto said, oblivious to the implications that lingered between the lines of her teasing.Akaashi sighed, rubbing his temples. “She’s… something.”They returned to their study session, but the nagging feeling from before had returned, gnawing at the edges of Akaashi’s thoughts. He couldn’t shake the feeling that his sister had noticed something—something in the way he and Bokuto interacted, in the way they sat just a little too close, in the way they spoke to each other with a kind of familiarity that went beyond simple friendship.
Did she suspect something? No. There was nothing to suspect. They were just friends. Teammates. Nothing more.
But the uncertainty persisted, leaving Akaashi’s thoughts in a tangled mess as they worked through the rest of their notes. Every time Bokuto leaned in close to point out something in the textbook, Akaashi felt his heart race, his skin hyper-aware of the slight brush of Bokuto’s arm against his. It was just studying, but it didn’t feel like just studying.And that was what unsettled him the most.-Later that night, after Akaashi had walked him to the door and the cool night air had enveloped him, Bokuto found himself more unsettled than usual. It wasn’t the science material—that had been easy enough to go through. No, it was something else that had weighed on him ever since dinner at Akaashi’s house. He had always known there were differences between his family and Akaashi’s, but tonight had put them into stark relief.Bokuto wasn’t one to dwell on things, but the rigid atmosphere at the dinner table, the tension in Akaashi’s shoulders that hadn’t disappeared even after they retreated to his room, kept replaying in his mind. He had seen Akaashi tense before—on the court, sometimes, when a play wasn’t going well—but this felt different. More personal.And Bokuto, for all his energy and enthusiasm, didn’t know how to help.So, he did what he always did when something didn’t make sense to him: he turned to Konoha.“Yo, Konoha!” Bokuto greeted the next morning as he slid into the seat next to his teammate before class started. His voice was a little quieter than usual, more serious. He didn’t feel like broadcasting this conversation to the whole classroom.Konoha raised an eyebrow, looking over at Bokuto with a smirk. “What’s up, Bokuto? You look like you’ve got something on your mind. Don’t tell me you’re thinking too hard again—last time that happened, you almost fried your brain.”Bokuto waved him off, his usual enthusiasm dimmed slightly. “No, no, it’s not like that.” He paused, frowning. “It’s about Kaashi.”At that, Konoha’s expression shifted, his smirk softening into something more curious, almost concerned. “Akaashi? Did something happen?”Bokuto scratched the back of his head, trying to find the right words. “Not really. I mean… we studied last night at his place, and everything was fine, but…” He trailed off, his brow furrowing. “It was weird, you know? His parents were super intense about school, and I just got this feeling that he’s under a lot of pressure. Like, more than I thought.”Konoha hummed thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, I figured Akaashi’s family would be that type. All proper and academic. I can see why that might throw you off, considering your family’s… well, you know. Different.”Bokuto nodded. “It’s not just that, though. I dunno… it just felt like he’s carrying more than he lets on. He didn’t say anything, but I could tell. His parents are pretty strict, and there was this moment during dinner where his dad mentioned something about him getting too caught up in volleyball.” Bokuto glanced at Konoha, guilt flickering across his face. “I just… I don’t want to make things harder for him.”Konoha was silent for a moment, taking in what Bokuto had said. Finally, he let out a sigh and shook his head. “Look, Bokuto, Akaashi’s not the type to let anyone—or anything—get in the way of his responsibilities. He’s a smart guy. If he’s feeling pressured, it’s not because of volleyball. It’s probably just the weight of his family’s expectations. And that’s not on you.”Bokuto nodded, though he still looked uncertain. “Yeah, I guess. I just don’t want him to feel like he has to hide that stuff from me, you know?”Konoha smiled faintly. “You care about him a lot, huh?”Bokuto’s face brightened at that, the tension easing from his features. “Of course! He’s my best friend! I want him to feel like he can talk to me.”“Give it time,” Konoha said, leaning forward and clapping Bokuto on the shoulder. “Akaashi doesn’t open up easily. But you’re already closer to him than anyone else. He trusts you. Just be there for him, and he’ll come around when he’s ready.”Bokuto nodded again, his usual grin returning as Konoha’s words sunk in. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll just keep doing my best.”Konoha’s smirk returned, but he held back, watching Bokuto with a slight shake of his head. Bokuto might have picked up on some of Akaashi’s tension, but he was still oblivious to the deeper implications. Konoha had seen it all—the way Akaashi’s gaze lingered on Bokuto for just a second too long, the subtle tension in his body whenever they sat too close. And then there was Bokuto, all loud and friendly, completely unaware that Akaashi was probably losing sleep over his every little gesture.Konoha had to admit, watching the two of them circle each other, completely oblivious to the possibility of something more, was starting to feel like watching the buildup to some kind of romantic comedy. The question was whether either of them would ever figure it out.“Alright,” Konoha said, getting up with his bag slung over his shoulder. “Let’s head to lunch. I’ve got a plan.”Akaashi arrived at their usual lunch table a little later than usual, his mind still tangled up in thoughts of last night’s study session. He had barely slept, the weight of his family’s scrutiny—and his sister’s teasing—making it hard to settle. Bokuto had been great, of course, but even now, the pressure of his parents’ expectations lingered.As he sat down, Konoha, Bokuto, and Komi were already sitting there, engaged in conversation. Bokuto was laughing at something Konoha had said, his usual bright energy lighting up the room, while Komi chuckled quietly beside him. Akaashi let out a small sigh, trying to relax as he unpacked his bento.“Hey, Akaashi!” Konoha greeted with a grin, leaning forward with a glint in his eyes that instantly put Akaashi on guard. Komi gave him a small wave, looking just as curious as Konoha. “So, Bokuto told us all about your little study date last night.”Akaashi froze mid-motion, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. “What?”“Yeah,” Konoha continued, his grin widening with every word, “a nice, quiet evening studying together, dinner with the parents. Sounds like a classic first date to me.”Akaashi felt his face flush as he quickly set his chopsticks down, his pulse quickening. “It wasn’t a date,” he insisted, his voice slightly strained. “We were just studying.”Konoha raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing look with Komi, who was already snickering. “Oh, really? You mean you take all your study buddies to dinner with your parents? Interesting.”Akaashi opened his mouth to retort, but Bokuto beat him to it.“Oh, yeah! Konoha mentioned that earlier.” Bokuto turned to Akaashi, his expression completely earnest. “I guess it was kind of like a date, huh? I mean, we did have dinner, and then we studied. So… what did you think, Kaashi? How’d you like our date?”Akaashi blinked, his brain short-circuiting as he tried to process what Bokuto had just said. “What—? I—Bokuto-san, it wasn’t a date!”Bokuto looked genuinely confused. “It wasn’t? But Konoha said it was—”“Konoha was joking!” Akaashi interrupted, his voice slightly higher than usual. His heart was pounding, and he could feel his face burning as he shot Konoha a desperate glare. Konoha, meanwhile, looked like he was on the verge of bursting into laughter, while Komi was already muffling his snickers behind his hand.“Well, joke or not, it kinda felt like one,” Bokuto said with a shrug, completely unbothered. “I had fun, though! We should do it again sometime.”Akaashi buried his face in his hands, completely mortified. His mind was racing, trying to figure out how the simple act of studying had spiraled into this disaster. Meanwhile, Konoha was practically dying of laughter next to him, leaning into Komi for support.“You’re evil,” Akaashi muttered, glaring at Konoha from between his fingers.Konoha wiped away a tear of laughter, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Oh, come on, Akaashi. You’re making this too easy. Besides, if that wasn’t a date, then what was it?”“It was studying,” Akaashi said firmly, though the heat in his face hadn’t dissipated in the slightest. “Just… studying.”“Seems like more than studying to me,” Komi piped in with a grin. “Bokuto, you sounded pretty excited about it this morning. I’m starting to think you’re the romantic type after all.”Bokuto looked between Komi and Konoha, still completely unfazed. “I mean, studying is fun when it’s with Kaashi,” he said earnestly, turning back to Akaashi with a grin. “Next time, let’s study somewhere fun! We can get ice cream after.”Akaashi groaned, sinking lower in his seat as Bokuto’s casual suggestion made his heart race. His face was practically burning at this point, while Konoha and Komi exchanged amused looks.“Cute,” Konoha said, nudging Komi with a smirk. “This is like watching a rom-com in real life. We’ve got the oblivious leads and everything.”Komi nodded, trying to stifle his laughter. “Akaashi, you’re going to give yourself a heart attack at this rate.”Akaashi shot them both a look, but it only made them laugh harder. Bokuto, still clueless, leaned over and patted Akaashi’s back. “Kaashi, you’re too cute when you’re embarrassed,” he said, completely serious.Akaashi froze, his breath catching as Bokuto’s words sunk in. Cute? Since when did Bokuto think he was cute?As the lunch period wore on, Konoha and Komi continued to throw in subtle teasing comments, each one making Akaashi more flustered, while Bokuto remained completely oblivious to the deeper implications of their words. Akaashi, on the other hand, found himself growing more and more anxious, unable to shake the feeling that this was all a little too much like a date.Meanwhile, Konoha watched the whole thing play out, his internal monologue one of both amusement and disbelief. If there was a more obvious pair of idiots in love, he hadn’t met them. Still, he had to admit, watching Akaashi’s composure crack in real time was pretty entertaining.“All I’m saying,” Konoha finally added as they packed up for their next class, “is that if you two keep this up, you’re going to end up dating by accident.”Akaashi groaned again, hiding his face in his hands while Bokuto chuckled beside him, still blissfully unaware of the chaos he’d been causing.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The tension in the air was palpable as Fukurodani’s volleyball team gathered in the locker room, preparing for the first round of the tournament. The atmosphere buzzed with a mix of excitement and nerves, but one thing was clear—everyone wanted to win.For Akaashi, this was more than just another game. It was his first time starting as the team’s setter, and he could feel the weight of that responsibility pressing down on him. It wasn’t just about the game itself; it was about proving that he deserved to be there, proving that his connection with Bokuto on the court was the real deal. Proving the coach right in picking him for the job. The pressure was immense, but Akaashi had always thrived under pressure. This was his chance to show what they could do.But it wasn’t just the pressure to perform that had his heart beating a little faster—it was knowing Bokuto was depending on him. Akaashi could feel Bokuto’s presence beside him, like a steady current of energy pulsing through the room. That connection, unspoken but so tangible, was there even before the game had started.He glanced sideways at Bokuto, who was practically vibrating with energy, his golden eyes bright and alive with excitement. Bokuto’s focus was sharper than Akaashi had ever seen, his body practically humming with anticipation for the match. He was like a tightly wound spring, ready to unleash every ounce of power the moment the whistle blew.As they stepped onto the court, Bokuto threw Akaashi a grin, his usual confidence shining through, and the edges of Akaashi’s nerves softened just slightly.“You ready for this, Kaashi?” Bokuto asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet.Akaashi nodded, feeling his nerves settle as Bokuto’s energy washed over him. “I’m ready.”And he was. The second Bokuto smiled at him, it clicked—everything always clicked when Bokuto was with him. This wasn’t just about proving himself; this was about their connection, about the way they amplified each other’s strengths. Akaashi could feel it. Bokuto wasn’t just relying on him. They were relying on each other.-The second Bokuto stepped onto the court, a switch flipped inside him. All the pre-game jitters disappeared, and the usual buzz of anticipation sharpened into laser-like focus. He lived for moments like this—the roar of the crowd, the adrenaline rushing through his veins—but more than anything, he lived for the game. For the connection he had with his teammates. With Akaashi.Bokuto didn’t need to look at him to feel him there, steady and unwavering, like a constant anchor in the midst of the swirling energy. The wildness Bokuto usually carried, the part of him that could be unpredictable and all over the place, was balanced the moment Akaashi took the court. It wasn’t just that Akaashi was a good setter—he was—but there was something deeper about the way they played together. Bokuto had felt it in practice, but now, with the heat of the tournament blazing around them, that connection was electric. Like they could sense each other’s movements before they even happened.Bokuto could feel Akaashi’s eyes on him, could practically hear his thoughts.
He’s gonna set me the perfect ball. I know it. I don’t even have to think about it.
Every time Bokuto called for a set, it was there, right where it needed to be. No hesitation, no second-guessing. They were a perfect match.And Bokuto thrived off it. His spikes felt stronger, more precise, like he was untouchable. The ball slammed into the court over and over, and with each point, he could feel their synergy building, the flow between them getting stronger.He’d played with other setters before, but nothing like this. With Akaashi, it was seamless. Every spike felt like a conversation between them—a language only they understood. The look in Akaashi’s eyes said everything Bokuto needed to know: Trust me.And Bokuto did. Completely.-The whistle blew, and the game was underway. From the very first play, it was clear—Akaashi and Bokuto were in sync in a way that made everything else fade into the background. The court, the crowd, the noise—none of it mattered. It was just them, moving as one.Akaashi’s sets were precise, calculated, but with Bokuto, there was something more than just precision. He didn’t need to think. He just knew. He could feel where Bokuto would be before he called for the set. It was instinctual, like their bodies were communicating on a level that went beyond words.Akaashi had always prided himself on being a calm and collected player, someone who could control the pace of the game. But with Bokuto, there was an element of unpredictability that thrilled him. Bokuto’s energy was wild and powerful, but instead of throwing Akaashi off, it made him sharper. The challenge of matching that energy, of setting the perfect ball for Bokuto to unleash his full power, made Akaashi’s heart race in a way that had nothing to do with nerves.They moved like they were tied by an invisible thread, their rhythm perfectly aligned. Every set Akaashi sent up was met with a powerful, unstoppable spike from Bokuto. The sound of the ball hitting the court with a satisfying thud sent chills down Akaashi’s spine. Their opponents couldn’t keep up, and with each point they scored, the energy on Fukurodani’s side of the court intensified. Akaashi’s sets were crisp and deliberate, and Bokuto’s spikes were relentless. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with.But it wasn’t just about skill. It was something deeper. The way Bokuto called for the ball, the way he trusted Akaashi without question, made Akaashi’s chest tighten in the most unexpected way. This wasn’t just about volleyball. It wasn’t just about winning. It was about something more, though Akaashi wasn’t sure he could put that feeling into words.The more they played, the stronger that connection became. It wasn’t just about positioning or timing; it was a flow, a rhythm, something that was unique to them. Akaashi could feel it—the trust, the reliance, the knowing—and it made his pulse race in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying.-Point after point, Bokuto felt like he was soaring. Every time Akaashi’s hands touched the ball, Bokuto felt his body react instinctively, like Akaashi was guiding him without saying a word. The ball was always right there, right where he needed it to be. And when Bokuto’s hand connected with the ball, sending it crashing to the floor on the other side of the net, it felt like a burst of lightning, coursing through him and exploding out into the crowd.He looked back at Akaashi after every spike, searching for the flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes, and it was always there—a silent confirmation, like Yeah, we did that.But it wasn’t just the wins that mattered to Bokuto. It was the way Akaashi looked at him, like he trusted him completely, like he knew Bokuto could pull off the impossible. And Bokuto didn’t want to let him down. He didn’t need to play perfectly for the crowd, for the team, or even for himself. He needed to play perfectly for Akaashi—because he knew Akaashi was doing the same for him.They were a team. But it felt like something more than that. The way they moved together, the way they instinctively read each other—it wasn’t something that could be taught. It wasn’t something you just found with anyone. It was unique. And Bokuto loved it. Loved the way Akaashi’s quiet confidence balanced his own wild energy, loved the way they could communicate without speaking.By the time the final whistle blew, Bokuto’s heart was racing for more reasons than just the adrenaline of the game. He turned to Akaashi, grabbing his shoulders, his face flushed with excitement, his heart still pounding. “Kaashi! We killed it out there! Did you see how in sync we were? It’s like we could read each other’s minds!”Akaashi allowed himself a small smile, the rush of victory still fresh in his veins. He could feel the heat of Bokuto’s hands on his shoulders, the intensity of his gaze, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of them. “Yeah. We did well.”Bokuto grinned even wider, his energy infectious, and for a second, Akaashi let himself bask in the warmth of that shared moment, feeling the pull of their connection settle deep in his chest.As they walked off the court, Akaashi’s mind was already turning toward the next game. Despite the resounding victory of their first match, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that things were going to change—and not for the better. The victory wasn’t enough to settle the gnawing discomfort in his chest. He knew how things worked. Seniority meant something, and he could sense the shift coming before it even happened.Sure enough, when they gathered for their second game, Coach had made the decision to start Sugimoto, the third-year setter, in Akaashi’s place.-Akaashi sat on the bench, his fingers gripping the cool metal, watching as Sugimoto took his place on the court. He tried to calm the frustration bubbling in his gut, reminding himself of his role as a first-year. It’s just seniority. It’s how things work. But it didn’t help ease the growing knot of tension in his chest. He wanted to be out there—not for himself, but for Bokuto.Bokuto needed him.He’d felt that unspoken connection between them in the first game. Every set, every movement—it had all flowed so seamlessly, like their bodies were tuned into the same frequency. There was something special about their synchronicity, something that couldn’t be replicated by anyone else. Akaashi had spent countless hours analyzing how Bokuto moved, how he jumped, and how his timing worked. He knew exactly where to set the ball so Bokuto could spike at the highest point of his jump. It was more than just skill. It was instinctual, something deep and almost subconscious.But now, he had to sit back and watch as Sugimoto stepped in, as the flow between Bokuto and Sugimoto faltered.It wasn’t that Sugimoto was a bad setter. He was consistent, reliable. But the spark—the electricity that made Bokuto light up the court—it just wasn’t there. Bokuto’s spikes were off, a little too wide or too shallow, and each miss chipped away at the unshakeable confidence he usually radiated. Akaashi could see it happening—the subtle tightening of Bokuto’s jaw, the way his brows furrowed in frustration after every set that wasn’t quite right.Akaashi clenched his fists in his lap.
I could fix this. I know how to set for him.
There was nothing he could do but watch.They lost the second game.The third game was no better. The tension between Bokuto and Sugimoto was palpable, almost suffocating. Bokuto’s body language was stiff, his frustration written in every clenched muscle, every missed spike. Sugimoto, too, was feeling the strain—his sets becoming just a fraction too low, too slow, as he tried to compensate for Bokuto’s erratic energy.The final whistle blew. Another loss.-Bokuto hated losing. Hated the way the court felt heavy with disappointment, hated the way his chest tightened with every mistake. But this—this wasn’t just a loss. It felt personal, like the game had been slipping through his fingers and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. No matter how hard he tried to adjust to Sugimoto’s sets, no matter how much power he put into his spikes, they just didn’t connect the way they should.He could feel the difference—like the rhythm of the game was out of sync. It wasn’t just about precision; it was about flow. The kind of flow that only Akaashi could give him. In that first game, with Akaashi setting, it had felt like they were invincible, moving as one. Now, it felt like he was fighting the court itself, battling every set, every misstep. His frustration boiled over, the sharp edge of failure cutting deeper with every point they lost.The locker room after the matches was quiet. Too quiet.Fukurodani had managed to place third overall, but that wasn’t enough for Bokuto. Not today. Not with the way the last two games had gone. He sat on the bench, his head in his hands, his usual energy completely drained. Everything felt… wrong.He couldn’t shake the thought running circles in his mind: If only Akaashi had been setting. The way they connected—it was something special, something he needed on the court. Bokuto’s heart felt heavy, weighed down by the knowledge that they could have won. He wasn’t arrogant enough to blame it all on Sugimoto—he knew it was a team effort—but damn, it hurt.“If you’d just set every game, I would’ve been able to make more spikes. We would’ve won,” Bokuto muttered, his voice muffled by his hands.Akaashi frowned, glancing at Bokuto, feeling the weight of his frustration like a tangible thing between them. Bokuto’s words struck a chord deep within him, making the knot in his chest tighten.“Bokuto-san, it wasn’t your fault. The team played well. It’s just—”“It’s just that Sugimoto can’t set for me,” Bokuto snapped, lifting his head, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and disappointment. “You know it, Kaashi. You and I—we’re in sync. We could’ve won if you’d been out there.”Akaashi swallowed, unsure of how to respond. The truth was, he did know it. He knew they could’ve won if he’d been out there. But admitting that felt wrong—like a betrayal of Sugimoto, of the team’s dynamics.“I don’t care about seniority,” Bokuto continued, his voice low but intense. “We should be playing to win. You’re the better setter, Kaashi. Everyone knows it.”The raw honesty in Bokuto’s voice made Akaashi’s breath hitch. He wasn’t used to hearing that kind of vulnerability from Bokuto—he wasn’t used to being needed like that. And yet, there was a part of him that wanted to argue, to downplay the connection they had, to remind Bokuto that it wasn’t just about them. But he couldn’t. Because he knew Bokuto was right.“I—” Akaashi’s voice caught in his throat. He looked down at his hands, feeling the tension coil tighter in his chest. “It’s up to Coach,” he said quietly. “It’s not our decision.”Bokuto deflated, letting out a frustrated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I know. It just… sucks.”And it did. It did suck. Akaashi hated watching Bokuto like this—defeated, exhausted. And more than that, he hated the way his own chest ached, knowing he could’ve done more. If only he’d been given the chance.As the team began packing up to leave, Bokuto stayed unusually quiet, his usual chatter replaced by a kind of sullen silence. Akaashi could feel the mood swings beginning to creep in—the familiar signs that Bokuto was on the edge of one of his infamous slumps.-The bus ride back to school was equally quiet, the weight of their losses hanging in the air like a cloud. Bokuto slumped into the seat next to Akaashi, his body radiating frustration and exhaustion. Without a word, he leaned against Akaashi, resting his head on his shoulder. The action was so natural, so easy, that it startled Akaashi for a moment. His heart skipped a beat as Bokuto’s warmth settled against him.Akaashi stiffened, unsure of what to do, but he quickly relaxed, letting Bokuto lean into him. The steady weight of Bokuto’s head on his shoulder was grounding, comforting in a way Akaashi hadn’t expected. He glanced across the aisle at Konoha, who was smirking, clearly enjoying the scene.“You asked for it,” Konoha mouthed, amusement dancing in his eyes.Akaashi shot him a glare, but he didn’t move. Bokuto was practically draped over him, his face buried in Akaashi’s neck, and Akaashi couldn’t help the way his pulse quickened. There was something oddly intimate about it—about the way Bokuto trusted him so completely, about the way they fit together, even off the court.It wasn’t until they pulled up to the school that Bokuto finally stirred, lifting his head and blinking blearily. “Thanks, Kaashi,” he muttered, his voice rough with exhaustion.Akaashi nodded, feeling a strange sense of loss as Bokuto moved away, the absence of his warmth leaving a hollow space in its wake.As they stepped off the bus and began heading their separate ways, Akaashi hesitated, glancing back at Bokuto. He was still slouched, his shoulders heavy with disappointment. The sight tugged at something deep inside Akaashi. He hated seeing Bokuto like this—defeated, his usual light dimmed by the weight of the losses.“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi called, his voice quiet but steady.Bokuto turned, his expression tired but curious.“Do you want to grab ice cream at the little shop down the street?” Akaashi asked, feeling his heart race as the words left his mouth. “We can talk about what went wrong at the tournament. Figure out a strategy for next time.”For a moment, Bokuto just stared at him, surprise flickering across his face. His eyes softened, and slowly, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Yeah,” he said softly. “That sounds good.”They walked in comfortable silence toward the ice cream shop, the night air cool and crisp around them. The silence wasn’t awkward; it was easy, familiar, like they didn’t need words to understand each other. As they neared the shop, Akaashi felt the weight of the day start to lift, replaced by a quiet sense of peace.But there was something else, too—something lingering between them that Akaashi couldn’t quite put into words. It was the same feeling that had been building for weeks, the same feeling that had tugged at him during their matches.Before they reached the shop, Akaashi glanced at Bokuto, who was still staring at the ground, lost in thought. Without thinking, without giving himself time to overanalyze, Akaashi reached out and took Bokuto’s hand in his.Bokuto froze for a moment, his eyes widening in surprise. Akaashi held his breath, half expecting Bokuto to pull away, but instead, Bokuto squeezed his hand, his thumb brushing lightly against Akaashi’s knuckles.They continued walking, hand in hand, the tension that had weighed them down all day seeming to melt away. There were no words exchanged, but in that quiet, shared moment, Akaashi felt a shift—something deeper, something more. The line between them, between friendship and something else, blurred even further.As they reached the ice cream shop, Akaashi’s heart was pounding, but he didn’t let go of Bokuto’s hand.Not yet.-When Akaashi finally got home later that evening, he was met with the familiar sight of his parents waiting for him in the living room. His father sat with his legs crossed, reading a newspaper, while his mother idly folded laundry. There was a quiet rigidity to the scene, the kind that always made Akaashi feel like he had to tread carefully.“How did the game go?” his father asked without looking up, his tone neutral—cold, even.“We came in third,” Akaashi replied, keeping his voice steady.His father nodded, but there was no warmth in his expression. No pride. Just a factual acknowledgment, like he was ticking off an unimportant box. “Well, I hope your science exam proves that this volleyball nonsense isn’t getting in the way of your academics.”Volleyball nonsense.The words hit like a dull thud in Akaashi’s chest, the same phrase he had heard over and over again whenever the topic came up. Volleyball, to his parents, was nothing more than a distraction—a side hobby that couldn’t possibly contribute to his future. They didn’t understand what it meant to him, how much of himself he poured into the sport. To them, it wasn’t worthy of any real attention.“I’ve been studying,” Akaashi said quietly, his fists clenching at his sides. “It won’t get in the way.”His father gave a curt nod, still not lifting his eyes from the newspaper, as if the conversation didn’t warrant any further engagement.His mother, sitting across the room, paused her folding to give Akaashi a brief glance—an acknowledgment of sorts, but again, there was nothing in her expression that showed real interest. There was no congratulations for placing in the tournament, no recognition of the hours of hard work he had put in. Just the expectation that he’d continue to meet their academic standards, no questions asked.Akaashi felt the familiar weight of their expectations pressing down on him. Heavy. Suffocating. They saw him only as a model student, their perfect son. He was to excel in his studies, go to a prestigious university, get a stable job, and eventually, marry a respectable woman. That’s how they had always envisioned his life. Neat. Predictable. Structured.But it was not the life Akaashi wanted.With a slight nod to his parents, Akaashi turned and headed upstairs, feeling the weight of their unspoken judgments settling over him like a thick, suffocating blanket. As he climbed the stairs, his mind wandered to earlier in the evening—to the volleyball court, to the thrill of the game, and more specifically, to Bokuto.The way Bokuto had grabbed his hand back so naturally, like it was the most normal thing in the world. The way they had walked side by side, fingers intertwined, not saying much but saying everything in the silence between them. Akaashi could still feel the lingering warmth of Bokuto’s hand, the soft pressure of his thumb brushing against his skin.It felt… right.For the first time in a long while, Akaashi felt a sense of clarity. His parents’ expectations were heavy, but maybe, just maybe, they weren’t the only thing that mattered. Maybe it wasn’t his responsibility to mold himself into the person they wanted him to be. Maybe there were other things in his life—things that made him feel alive—that were worth pursuing.Things like volleyball.Things like Bokuto.-Akaashi was just getting his books from his locker when Konoha strolled by, seemingly absorbed in his own thoughts. But as he passed, Konoha leaned in close enough that his voice barely rose above a murmur, the words slipping into the air like smoke.“Hand-holding is definitely a date-like activity, Kaashi.”Akaashi froze, his fingers tightening around the strap of his bag. Konoha didn’t stop walking—he kept moving, his usual smirk barely visible as he continued down the hallway like nothing had happened. But the words echoed in Akaashi’s mind, ringing louder than they had any right to.Hand-holding. A date.Akaashi’s stomach churned, a familiar heat rising to his face. He hadn’t thought of it that way. Well, he had, but not in any serious context. It was just a casual gesture, wasn’t it? Something that friends sometimes did. Or did they?No. He needed to stop thinking about it. The problem wasn’t Bokuto holding his hand—it was the way he had responded, the way his heart had pounded in his chest like it had never done before. The way Bokuto’s warmth had made something inside him settle, as if they were meant to fit together like that.Akaashi swallowed hard, his pulse quickening as Konoha’s words lingered, teasing him with their implication. He shoved his books into his bag, his movements jerky, as he tried to brush off the thought. But it clung to him, like a stubborn thread that wouldn’t let go.As he turned the corner toward his next class, he spotted Bokuto further down the hall, laughing with Komi about something or other. The sight of him—so carefree, so utterly himself—only made the knot in Akaashi’s chest tighten. Bokuto didn’t seem to be dwelling on the hand-holding incident at all.Akaashi took a breath, trying to shake off the thoughts swirling in his head. He needed to focus. Volleyball, school, practice—those were the things he could control. Everything else, especially whatever was happening with Bokuto, was too confusing to figure out right now.But as he walked into class, Konoha’s voice still echoed in his mind, soft but insistent.
Hand-holding is definitely a date-like activity.
-The next few days passed in a blur of studying and practice. Akaashi’s science exam loomed on the horizon, and he knew that if he didn’t pass, his parents would never let him hear the end of it. The pressure was immense. But with Bokuto’s help—his focused explanations and surprising knack for breaking down complex concepts—Akaashi felt more prepared than ever.And when the results came in, a wave of relief washed over him. A solid A stared back at him from the page, a tangible result of his hard work. He had done it. He had proven that volleyball hadn’t distracted him from his academics. For a brief moment, Akaashi felt the weight on his chest loosen.That evening, he showed the grade to his parents. His father scanned the paper, gave a faint nod of approval, and handed it back without a word. No praise, no congratulations—just another expectation met, another box checked. His mother offered a small smile but didn’t say much either.The relief was short-lived, however, as dinner quickly took a turn for the worse.They sat around the dining table, the usual quiet chatter filling the space. Akaashi’s father discussed work, his mother mentioned a family friend’s upcoming wedding. Everything felt mundane—until Emiko, Akaashi’s older sister, decided to stir the pot.“So, you’re going to that summer camp with your volleyball team, right?” Emiko asked, her eyes flicking toward Akaashi with a sly grin.“Yes,” Akaashi replied cautiously, unsure of where this was going.“Well, just make sure you don’t get up to any… hanky-panky while you’re away,” Emiko said with a teasing lilt in her voice, her grin widening as she watched Akaashi’s face redden.Akaashi’s heart skipped a beat. “What are you talking about?”Emiko shrugged, her tone light but pointed. “Oh, you know. A bunch of teenage boys, away from home for a week. Things happen.”The insinuation was clear, and Akaashi’s stomach churned. He could feel the tension around the table shift—his mother pursed her lips, while his father’s gaze hardened slightly.“I’m sure Akaashi knows better than to get involved in anything… inappropriate,” his father said, his voice laced with thinly veiled judgment. “Besides, it’s a boys’ camp. There is nothing to worry about in that regard.”The words hung in the air like a lead weight, their implications sinking deep into Akaashi’s chest. Nothing to worry about in that regard. His father’s tone was dismissive, but the unsaid was unmistakable—there was an expectation there, too. That Akaashi would remain the obedient son, the one who would follow the traditional path laid out for him, the one who would never deviate from what was considered “normal.”It was as if they couldn’t even fathom the possibility of him wanting anything different.Akaashi’s throat tightened. He wanted to say something—to push back, to question why they were so certain of what he should want for his future. But the words stuck in his throat, and instead, he nodded stiffly, pushing his plate away as he excused himself from the table.The moment Akaashi shut the door to his room, he let out a shaky breath. His chest felt tight, his mind racing with the weight of everything left unsaid. His parents’ expectations were suffocating—pressing down on him from all sides. They saw his future so clearly, as if it were already written: top university, successful career, and eventually, a wife and family. That’s what they wanted for him.But was that what he wanted?Akaashi sank onto the edge of his bed, running a hand through his hair. His sister’s teasing words echoed in his mind, as did his father’s firm dismissal of the possibility of anything outside their narrow vision of what was acceptable.They don’t know, he thought, his heart heavy. They don’t know about Bokuto. They don’t know about…His thoughts trailed off, too tangled to finish. But the image of Bokuto—bright, warm, safe—flashed in his mind. Bokuto, who never judged him, never made him feel like he had to be anything other than who he was. Bokuto, who made him feel like he could breathe, even when everything else in his life felt like it was closing in on him.Akaashi lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—his parents’ expectations pulling him in one direction, and his own desires, his own feelings, pulling him in another.For the first time, Akaashi allowed himself to wonder: What if I didn’t follow the path they set for me? What if I chose something else?Something—someone—who made him feel alive.
What if I chose Bokuto?
The thought sent a rush of warmth through him, followed by a surge of anxiety. But as he lay there, heart pounding, Akaashi realized something important: for the first time in his life, he wasn’t just thinking about what his parents wanted. He was thinking about what he wanted.And maybe, just maybe, it was time to start choosing that.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Monday morning arrived far too early for Akaashi’s liking. He had barely slept, his mind plagued by a strange sense of anticipation and unease. Today marked the start of Fukurodani’s summer camp, where they would host teams from all over Tokyo. It was an opportunity to improve, to train with other skilled players, and to prepare for the upcoming season. But for Akaashi, it felt like more than that.
It felt like the beginning of something he wasn’t quite ready to face.
As Akaashi packed his bag that morning, his mind wandered to the events of the last few days—the tournament, the strange clarity that had started to take root in him, and most of all, Bokuto. He thought of their walk to the ice cream shop, the feeling of Bokuto’s hand in his, the comfortable silence they’d shared, the unspoken something that had settled between them.
And then he thought of his family.
The contrast was sharp. His parents’ stony faces. The constant, rigid expectations. Their offhand comments at dinner about how he’d be marrying a “nice girl from a good family” someday. As if that was the only future that existed for him. He thought of his father’s cold dismissal of volleyball, of how, to them, it was just a distraction—something that didn’t fit into the tightly controlled life they had mapped out for him.
But that vision of the future… it was starting to feel more like a cage than a path.
And now, standing at the edge of summer camp, Akaashi couldn’t ignore the growing feeling in his chest. The feeling that maybe, just maybe, what he wanted mattered more than the life they had so carefully constructed for him.
His sister, Emiko, had begrudgingly agreed to drop him off at school, her silence during the drive a weight that hung between them. She hadn’t said much, but Akaashi had noticed the way her eyes lingered on him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention—sharp, calculating, as if she could see the shift happening inside him.
She knew. Or at least, she suspected. And that knowledge terrified him.
As they pulled up to the parking lot, Akaashi noticed the flurry of activity outside the gymnasium—players arriving, bags slung over their shoulders, and the usual pre-camp chaos unfolding as everyone tried to get settled. But it all felt distant, as if he was watching it through a pane of glass, separated from the excitement by the storm brewing inside his chest.
“Don’t embarrass yourself,” Emiko said as she put the car in park, her voice teasing but with a sharp edge. “And stay focused on volleyball, okay? No distractions.”
Her words felt like a command, like a subtle reminder of the role he was supposed to play—the obedient son, the diligent student, the one who always stayed on track. The one who never let anyone down.
The knot in his chest tightened. He didn’t trust himself to say much more than a quiet, “Yeah, sure.” His voice sounded distant, like it was coming from someone else.
He grabbed his bag and opened the door, his movements automatic. He didn’t notice the way his fingers trembled slightly as they gripped the strap of his bag, or the way his breath caught in his throat as his feet hit the pavement. But just as he stepped out, a familiar voice cut through the haze.
“Kaashi!”
Akaashi’s heart stuttered.
Bokuto.
And of course, Bokuto spotted him immediately, his bright, infectious grin spreading across his face as he jogged over, his boundless energy radiating from him in waves.
Before Akaashi could even process what was happening, Bokuto had thrown an arm around his shoulder, pulling him into a side hug like it was the most natural thing in the world. And it was. With Bokuto, everything always felt so natural, so easy, like the space between them didn’t exist.
But that was the problem, wasn’t it?
Akaashi’s body tensed at the sudden contact, but Bokuto’s warmth had a way of seeping into his skin, melting the nerves that had been buzzing all morning. He hated how much he needed that warmth right now. Hated that it made the weight of his family’s expectations feel just a little lighter.
“What took you so long?” Bokuto asked with a grin, his arm still draped over Akaashi’s shoulders. “We’ve got a lot to do!”
Akaashi glanced back toward the car, his heart hammering in his chest. Emiko was still parked there, her sharp gaze locked on them, watching the way Bokuto’s arm hung over his shoulder, the way Akaashi didn’t move to push him off. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a subtle shift in her eyes—like she had just seen something she couldn’t quite figure out, but was already filing it away for later.
Akaashi could feel the weight of her gaze, like a hook digging into his skin, pulling him back toward everything he was trying to escape. Stay focused on volleyball, okay? No distractions.
But that’s what Bokuto was, wasn’t he? A distraction. A distraction from the life his parents wanted for him. A distraction that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to fit into the neat little box they had constructed for him.
And he wanted that distraction.
He wanted it more than he was willing to admit.
The thought made his pulse quicken, his throat tighten. He stepped out from under Bokuto’s arm, feeling the loss of that warmth immediately, like a part of him had been stripped away.
“Sorry,” he muttered, his voice quieter than he intended. “My sister dropped me off.”
Bokuto, oblivious to the tension that had settled over Akaashi, just grinned and waved it off. “No worries! Come on, let’s get inside before Coach starts assigning setup duty.”
As Bokuto bounded ahead, Akaashi stood frozen for a moment, his feet rooted to the ground. He stole one last glance back at the car. Emiko was still watching him, her lips pressed into a thin line, her expression unreadable. But there was something in her eyes that sent a chill down Akaashi’s spine—a knowing smirk, subtle but unmistakable.
It was like she had seen right through him.
With a small flick of her wrist, she put the car into gear and finally pulled away from the curb, leaving Akaashi standing there, his heart pounding for reasons he couldn’t quite explain.
No. He knew exactly why his heart was racing.
He was standing on the edge of something—something he couldn’t fully comprehend yet. And it wasn’t just about volleyball. It wasn’t even just about Bokuto. It was about everything. His family. His future. The life they wanted for him, and the life he was beginning to realize he wanted for himself.
The two paths were diverging, and for the first time, Akaashi wasn’t sure which one he was supposed to follow.
-
The gym was already buzzing with energy as Akaashi and Bokuto entered, joining the small group of Fukurodani players already gathered. The steady thrum of voices, the sound of volleyballs being tossed around, and the faint echo of footsteps on the polished court were familiar, almost comforting. Akaashi had always liked the quiet before the chaos of a match—the sense of anticipation hanging in the air like a breath waiting to be exhaled. Normally, it helped him focus, allowed him to push aside the noise of everything else in his life. But today, that quiet only amplified the mess of thoughts swirling in his head.
As he and Bokuto helped set up the court, Akaashi couldn’t shake the heaviness that had settled in his chest since that morning. Emiko’s sharp gaze, her sly comments, his parents’ suffocating expectations—it was all pressing down on him, and no matter how hard he tried to push it away, it lingered like a dull ache, pulsing in the back of his mind.
This camp was supposed to be about volleyball. About proving himself, pushing himself to get better. But for Akaashi, it felt like more than that now. It was starting to feel like a line in the sand—a moment where he had to decide whose path he was going to follow. His parents’ vision of the future, or the one he was just starting to glimpse for himself?
And then, there was Bokuto.
Akaashi’s gaze flickered to Bokuto, who was currently bouncing on the balls of his feet, his energy electric, his golden eyes bright with excitement. For Bokuto, this was just another day of volleyball—a chance to shine, to push himself, to be the star of the show. He practically thrived in environments like this, where the air was thick with competition and excitement, the gym alive with the promise of new challenges.
But for Akaashi, the stakes felt different. Bokuto was becoming more than just a teammate, more than just a friend. And with that realization came a kind of pressure that had nothing to do with volleyball.
Lately, Bokuto had taken to clinging to him more—whether it was throwing an arm around his shoulder, nudging him during conversations, or brushing past him during drills. It was subtle, but there was a consistency to it now that hadn’t been there before. And the thing that surprised Akaashi the most wasn’t that Bokuto was doing it—it was that Akaashi found himself getting used to it. Almost… craving it.
Akaashi had always been someone who kept his distance, both physically and emotionally. He liked control. Control over his environment, over his studies, over his emotions. But with Bokuto, those barriers had started to crumble. Bokuto didn’t seem to believe in barriers. He crashed through them with his loud, unfiltered energy, with his easy affection. And Akaashi was starting to realize that he liked the way Bokuto crashed into his life. Liked the way Bokuto’s presence seemed to make the weight of his parents’ expectations feel lighter, more manageable.
But that scared him, too.
Because wanting Bokuto meant stepping off the path his parents had set for him. It meant wanting something for himself—something they would never understand.
It meant wanting more than just friendship. And Akaashi wasn’t sure he was ready to face that yet.
As the rest of the Fukurodani players started filtering into the gym, Akaashi could feel the familiar routine of volleyball camp pulling him in—warm-ups, drills, setting up the net. It was a welcome distraction, something to focus on that didn’t involve his messy, tangled emotions. He tried to lose himself in the rhythm of the sport, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Bokuto.
The way Bokuto had thrown his arm around him that morning. The way Bokuto always seemed to gravitate toward him, like Akaashi was his anchor. The way his hand had instinctively reached for Bokuto’s after the tournament.
It felt like a tipping point—a moment when everything was shifting, and Akaashi wasn’t sure if he could—or even wanted to—stop it.
By the time the other teams started arriving, Fukurodani’s gym had been transformed into a bustling hub of players from across Tokyo. Bokuto’s energy was already through the roof, and Akaashi found himself half-watching, half-worrying about what the next few days would bring.
The camp began with introductions, and that’s when a tall, dark-haired player from Nekoma High School strolled into the gym, announcing himself loudly.
“Kuroo Tetsurou, captain of Nekoma High!” he declared, his grin wide and mischievous as he strode toward Fukurodani’s group.
Akaashi blinked, momentarily thrown off by Kuroo’s confidence. There was something almost magnetic about him, the way he commanded attention without even trying. He had barely processed the introduction when Kuroo bounded up to Bokuto, clapping him on the back.
“There he is, my best buddy!” Kuroo exclaimed, ruffling Bokuto’s hair like it was something he’d done a thousand times before.
Akaashi frowned, something tightening in his chest at the casual way Kuroo slung his arm over Bokuto’s shoulder, their easy camaraderie on full display. It wasn’t rational, but the sudden surge of irritation caught him off guard.
The way Kuroo was touching Bokuto—it felt too familiar, too easy. And that strange knot of jealousy that had been growing inside Akaashi tightened just a little more.
Since when does it bother me when someone else touches Bokuto? Akaashi thought, trying to shake off the feeling. He had no right to feel this way. Bokuto wasn’t his. They were just friends.
But it did bother him. More than he wanted to admit.
Before Akaashi could say anything, a quiet voice piped up beside him.
“Don’t worry about him.”
Akaashi turned to find a shorter player with messy brown hair and a sleepy expression standing next to him. His uniform read Nekoma, and Akaashi vaguely recalled him as Nekoma’s setter—Kenma Kozume.
“Uh, what?” Akaashi asked, blinking.
“Don’t worry about Kuro,” Kenma said, his tone soft but knowing. “He’s just… like that with Bokuto. They’re best friends.”
Akaashi nodded slowly, but the irritation didn’t fully subside. Kenma, sensing the unspoken tension, offered a small, almost sympathetic smile.
“They’re like brothers,” Kenma added. “But in the ‘bros for life’ way, not anything else.”
Akaashi wasn’t entirely sure why that made him feel better, but it did. For now.
He watched as Kuroo continued to joke with Bokuto, their laughter echoing through the gym. Part of Akaashi wanted to join them, to insert himself into their conversation and reclaim that sense of connection with Bokuto that he was so used to. But another part of him—the part that was still tangled up in confusion and fear—held him back.
What am I even jealous of? Akaashi wondered, his chest tightening as he watched them. Was it Kuroo’s easy confidence? His ability to laugh and joke with Bokuto without a second thought? Or was it something deeper—something he wasn’t ready to confront?
Kenma shifted beside him, his gaze thoughtful as he watched the same scene unfold.
“You seem close to Bokuto,” Kenma said quietly after noticing the daggers being shot across the gym at his teammate, his voice barely audible over the noise of the gym.
Akaashi stiffened at the comment, his heart skipping a beat. “We’re friends,” he said, too quickly, the words tasting hollow even as he spoke them.
Kenma nodded slowly, but there was a knowing glint in his eyes. “Mm. Sure.”
Akaashi swallowed, his mind spinning. What did Kenma see when he looked at them? What did everyone else see?
And more importantly, what did Akaashi see?
For weeks, he had been pushing down the growing feelings inside him, telling himself that they were nothing. Just friendship. Just teammates. But now, standing in this gym, watching Bokuto laugh with someone else, watching the way Kenma’s sharp eyes seemed to see right through him, Akaashi couldn’t deny it any longer.
He wanted more.
He didn’t know what more looked like yet. He didn’t know how to ask for it, or even if Bokuto wanted the same thing. But the realization hit him hard, like a wave crashing over him, pulling him under.
I want him.
-
Lunch arrived after a long morning of drills, and Akaashi found himself sitting with Kenma and Bokuto while Kuroo and a few other players from different schools gathered nearby. The warm hum of conversation surrounded them, mostly about volleyball—strategies, plays, game highlights. It was comfortable. Familiar. Yet beneath the surface, Akaashi could feel a different kind of tension, one that had little to do with the game and more to do with the quiet glances he exchanged with Kenma, and the ever-present whirlwind that was Bokuto beside him.
Akaashi’s chopsticks hovered over his bento as he glanced at Kenma, who sat quietly eating his own lunch beside him. There was something about Kenma’s calm, almost cat-like demeanor, his quiet way of observing the world, that made Akaashi feel like he was being read like a book. Maybe it was because they were both setters—people who saw the game from a distance, who watched and calculated and adjusted. Or maybe Kenma was just perceptive in a way that unnerved Akaashi. Either way, it made him feel exposed, like Kenma had already pieced together something Akaashi was barely beginning to admit to himself.
Bokuto, as always, was oblivious to the tension swirling beneath the surface.
He was too busy waving his chopsticks around, launching into an animated retelling of a spike from earlier that morning, his voice booming across the table. Akaashi found himself half-listening, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the nerves twisting in his gut.
Kuroo, sitting across from them, noticed the dynamic immediately. His golden eyes gleamed with a spark of mischief as they darted between Bokuto and Akaashi. He leaned back in his chair, propping his elbow on the table with an air of casual amusement. Kuroo was always one to stir the pot, and now, it seemed, he had found a perfect opportunity.
“You know,” Kuroo began, his grin spreading wider as he addressed Akaashi and Kenma, “you two would make a killer setter duo. I bet you could outplay anyone on the court.” He shot a teasing glance at Bokuto. “Maybe even give me and Bokuto a run for our money.”
Kenma, unbothered, glanced at Kuroo with a sleepy, almost uninterested expression before returning to his lunch. But Akaashi stiffened slightly, feeling the weight of Kuroo’s words hang in the air.
Before Akaashi could respond, Bokuto’s head snapped up at the mention of his name, his usual enthusiasm flaring to life. “Hey!” he exclaimed, eyes wide with sudden indignation. “No one’s out-setting Akaashi! He’s the best partner I’ve got!” He turned to Akaashi, beaming so brightly that Akaashi could feel the heat rising in his chest. “Right, Kaashi?”
Akaashi’s pulse quickened under Bokuto’s gaze. The intensity of Bokuto’s words—
best partner
—rang in his ears. The warmth that always bloomed in his chest when Bokuto smiled at him was there again, spreading like wildfire. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, Kuroo’s grin sharpened into something far more devious.
“Oh, it’s
like that
, huh?” Kuroo drawled, leaning forward, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of discovery. He had the air of someone who had just stumbled upon the juiciest bit of gossip, and he wasn’t about to let it go.
Bokuto blinked, his expression turning curious as he glanced between Kuroo and Akaashi, completely unaware of the subtext that had just entered the conversation. “What do you mean ‘like that’?” he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.
Kuroo chuckled, the sound low and knowing. “You’re talking about Akaashi like he’s more than just your setter, Bokuto,” he teased, his grin growing wider. “It sounds like you’ve got a real partner here.”
Bokuto, oblivious to the implication, nodded enthusiastically. “Well, yeah! We’re always in sync, Kaashi and I. No one else can set for me like he does!” He leaned closer to Akaashi, his shoulder pressing against his in a casual, familiar way that made Akaashi’s breath hitch. “He’s the best!”
Kuroo’s eyes gleamed with amusement. He didn’t need Bokuto to spell it out—he could see the heart eyes from a mile away, even if Bokuto didn’t realize what he was feeling. He didn’t miss the way Bokuto leaned into Akaashi, or the way his voice softened when he talked about him. It was all so obvious, it was almost laughable.
Kenma, sitting quietly beside them, raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. The look he gave Akaashi said it all—I knew it.
Akaashi, on the other hand, felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. The way Bokuto spoke about him so openly, so effortlessly, was both thrilling and terrifying. Did Bokuto really mean it? Or was this just Bokuto being… well, Bokuto? There was always a blurring of lines with him, and Akaashi wasn’t sure how much of what Bokuto said was just friendship and how much was something more.
But Kuroo wasn’t done stirring the pot.
With a sly smirk, Kuroo leaned across the table, his voice dropping just enough to sound conspiratorial. “You know, Bokuto, it kinda sounds like you’re describing a date.”
“A date?” Bokuto repeated, his confusion deepening as he looked at Kuroo.
Akaashi’s entire body went rigid. A date?! His mind raced as he replayed the ice cream outing from the other night, his hand in Bokuto’s, the way their fingers had laced together. He had tried so hard not to think of it that way, to keep it buried under the pretense of just two friends hanging out. But now, with Kuroo’s teasing, it felt like the floodgates had been opened.
Bokuto, still oblivious, frowned thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to solve a puzzle. “Wait… are you saying the ice cream was… a date?”
Akaashi could feel the panic rising in his chest. He opened his mouth to deny it, to explain that of course it hadn’t been a date. But before he could even get a word out, Bokuto turned to him with a wide grin, his eyes sparkling with sudden realization.
“Well, I guess it was kind of like a date, huh?” Bokuto said, his tone as casual as if he were commenting on the weather. Then, without missing a beat, he added, “What do you think, Kaashi? Was that our first date?”
Akaashi’s brain short-circuited.
Date. He called it a date.
He could feel his face burning, his heart hammering against his ribcage as Bokuto’s words hung in the air between them.
Across the table, Kuroo stifled a laugh, clearly enjoying the chaos he had created. “Oh man, this is gold,” he muttered under his breath, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.
Kenma, ever the silent observer, glanced at Akaashi with that same knowing look. But this time, there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes, as if he were silently cheering Akaashi on from the sidelines.
Akaashi, meanwhile, felt like he was drowning. He couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. All he could do was stare at Bokuto, who was still looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer that Akaashi wasn’t sure he was ready to give.
Did I want that to be a date?
Akaashi’s mind raced, torn between the weight of his parents’ expectations and the growing desire to let himself want something for once. He had spent so long trying to be perfect, trying to live up to what his family wanted for him. But now, with Bokuto sitting right in front of him, so open and earnest and oblivious to the chaos he was causing, Akaashi felt the walls he had built around himself starting to crack.
Maybe, just maybe, he did want it to be a date. Maybe he wanted more than just friendship. Maybe Bokuto was the person who made him feel like he could be something other than perfect. Someone who made him feel like himself.
But for now, all Akaashi could do was mutter, “I… I guess it was.”
And with that, Bokuto beamed, completely satisfied with the answer, while Kuroo grinned like the cat that got the cream.
The mess was just getting started.
-
By the time the afternoon training session ended, Akaashi’s mind was running on autopilot. His body moved through the drills, his hands setting the ball with their usual precision, but his thoughts were a million miles away. The conversation at lunch, Kuroo’s teasing, Bokuto’s casual proclamation of what could’ve been their “first date”—it all clung to him, refusing to loosen its grip.
What did it mean?
Akaashi had never been one to get flustered, but today felt like he was teetering on the edge of something, and the ground beneath his feet was crumbling. Every time he glanced at Bokuto, the easy smile, the boundless energy—he was reminded of how unprepared he was for whatever was happening between them.
When the final whistle blew and Coach dismissed the team for the day, Akaashi let out a slow breath, grateful for the reprieve. He quietly packed up his things, his hands moving mechanically as he shoved his shoes into his bag. The sun was starting to set outside the gym, casting long shadows through the windows. Most of the players were still chatting excitedly, their adrenaline from the day’s drills keeping them energized. But Akaashi was exhausted—mentally, emotionally.
“Kaashi!” Bokuto called, bounding over with that same grin that was both comforting and terrifying. “Wanna grab something to eat? I’m starving!”
Akaashi froze, his mind flashing back to the conversation at lunch. Was that our first date?
He should say no. He should retreat to the quiet of his room, where he could think clearly, where he didn’t have to face the onslaught of emotions Bokuto stirred in him. But then Bokuto smiled wider, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, and Akaashi’s resolve crumbled.
“Sure,” he said quietly, his voice almost lost in the noise of the gym.
Bokuto didn’t seem to notice the hesitation. “Great! Let’s get ramen! I’ve been craving it all day!”
They walked out of the gym together, Bokuto chatting about the drills they’d done, already excited about tomorrow’s practice. Akaashi listened, or at least tried to. His mind was still tangled in the mess from earlier, but Bokuto’s voice, the rise and fall of his enthusiasm, was comforting in its own way. It gave Akaashi something to hold onto, a lifeline that kept him tethered to the moment.
They found a small ramen shop not far from the school, one they’d been to before, and settled into their usual booth. Bokuto ordered with his usual gusto, while Akaashi quietly asked for a small bowl. His appetite was minimal at best, his stomach still twisted in knots from the day’s revelations.
As they waited for their food, Bokuto leaned back in the booth, stretching his arms behind his head with a contented sigh. “Man, today was great. I can already feel us getting stronger, y’know?”
Akaashi nodded, his eyes fixed on the table. “Yeah. It was a good day.”
Bokuto frowned slightly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “You okay, Kaashi? You’ve been kinda quiet.”
Akaashi hesitated, his hands curling into fists under the table. Am I okay? He wasn’t sure. There were so many things he wanted to say, questions he wanted to ask, but the words felt heavy, like they were stuck in his throat. And then there was Bokuto—always so open, so unguarded. Akaashi wasn’t sure he could even begin to explain what he was feeling without shattering the delicate balance between them.
“I’m fine,” Akaashi said, his voice carefully neutral.
Bokuto didn’t look convinced, but before he could press further, the ramen arrived. Bokuto’s face lit up instantly, and for a moment, Akaashi was relieved by the distraction.
They ate in relative silence, the clatter of chopsticks and the quiet slurping of noodles filling the space between them. But even as they sat there, the weight of everything unsaid hung heavy in the air.
After a while, Bokuto finally spoke again, his tone more thoughtful than usual. “You know… I’ve been thinking about what Kuro said at lunch.”
Akaashi’s stomach lurched. Of course you have.
Bokuto continued, his eyes fixed on his nearly empty bowl. “About the whole… date thing.”
Akaashi’s heart raced, his pulse pounding in his ears. He stared down at his own ramen, the broth swirling in front of him, but he couldn’t bring himself to take another bite.
Bokuto glanced up, his golden eyes filled with curiosity—and something else. “Do you… do you think it was a date?”
Akaashi’s breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t lie, not to Bokuto. But the truth—whatever the truth was—felt too big, too dangerous to say out loud. He swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around his chopsticks as he struggled to find the right words.
“I don’t know,” Akaashi finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe.”
The word hung between them, delicate and fragile. Bokuto’s expression didn’t change at first, but then, slowly, his lips curved into a soft, almost shy smile.
“I think it was,” Bokuto said, his voice quieter than usual. There was no teasing in his tone, no bravado. Just a quiet honesty that made Akaashi’s heart stutter.
Akaashi stared at him, unsure of what to say, unsure of what this even meant. But in that moment, with Bokuto sitting across from him, his eyes filled with a warmth that made the rest of the world feel far away, Akaashi realized something.
He wasn’t scared of what he wanted anymore.
Maybe, for the first time, he could admit to himself that this—whatever it was between him and Bokuto—wasn’t just a distraction. It wasn’t something he needed to push away or ignore. It was real. And maybe that was enough for now.
The rest… they could figure it out later.
For now, Akaashi allowed himself to meet Bokuto’s gaze and smile, just a little.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “Maybe it was.”
And with that, they finished their meal in companionable silence, the weight of the day finally lifting, even if just a little.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Camp was in full swing by the second day. The gym was alive with energy, the sounds of volleyballs slamming against the polished wood floor, sneakers squeaking as players darted into defensive stances, and the sharp, clear calls of teammates working together. Fukurodani had split into two teams, A and B, for practice matches. Akaashi and Bokuto had been placed together on the B-team, and while some might have seen it as a demotion, Bokuto couldn’t have been more thrilled.
“This is perfect, Kaashi!” Bokuto exclaimed, throwing an arm around Akaashi’s shoulders as they headed toward the gym. His energy was electric, buzzing through the air, making Akaashi feel it, too. “We’re going to crush it! You and me—Team B’s opponents won’t even know what hit them!”
Akaashi managed a small smile, feeling the familiar warmth of Bokuto’s enthusiasm wash over him. It was always contagious, and in moments like this, he welcomed it. “Let’s just focus on playing our best,” he replied, his voice steady as he adjusted his grip on the volleyball tucked under his arm.
But even as the words left his mouth, Akaashi felt a tug in his chest. Playing their best wasn’t just about volleyball anymore—it never had been. Not really. Not when it came to Bokuto. There was a connection between them, something deeper than spikes and sets, something that had started to unfurl in Akaashi’s chest ever since their last tournament, and now, it was impossible to ignore.
Bokuto, of course, didn’t seem to notice the weight behind Akaashi’s response. He was already bouncing on the balls of his feet, his excitement bubbling over like always. “Playing our best? Kaashi, with you setting, we’re unstoppable!” he declared, his grin wide, full of certainty.
Akaashi’s heart skipped, not from the praise, but from the way Bokuto said “we”—as if their partnership was more than just two players on the court. And maybe it was. It had been feeling like that more and more lately. The way Bokuto leaned on him both physically and emotionally, the way their connection seemed to spill off the court, and most of all, the way Akaashi found himself wanting it. Needing it.
He felt a flutter of pride at Bokuto’s words, but it was quickly chased by the familiar nagging thought in the back of his mind—the pressure. The unspoken expectations from his family, the careful balance he’d been trying to maintain between the life they wanted for him and the one he was starting to realize he wanted for himself. And Bokuto… Bokuto was making it harder to ignore what he truly wanted.
Akaashi’s parents expected him to follow a particular path. They saw volleyball as a distraction, something fleeting, something that wouldn’t last. And they had no idea about this other part of him—the part that was drawn to Bokuto in ways he couldn’t yet explain, the part that craved his presence not just in the context of the game, but in all the quiet moments in between.
He knew what his family would think. He could almost hear their voices: Focus on your studies, Akaashi. Don’t get distracted by silly things. By people who aren’t part of the plan.
But maybe… maybe he didn’t want to follow their plan anymore.
Akaashi felt the pressure building in his chest as he glanced at Bokuto, whose grin was so carefree, so completely oblivious to the weight Akaashi carried. And yet, Bokuto was the one making that weight bearable. When Bokuto was beside him, it all felt lighter, easier, like he could breathe without the pressure of being perfect, without the suffocating expectations pulling him under.
It was terrifying, this realization, but it was also freeing. Because in that moment, walking beside Bokuto, feeling the warmth of his arm still loosely draped over his shoulders, Akaashi allowed himself to want it. To want him. To think, just for a moment, that maybe he could have something for himself—something that wasn’t part of the carefully curated future his parents had in mind.
“Kaashi?” Bokuto’s voice cut through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present.
Akaashi blinked, realizing Bokuto was waiting for him to say something. He hadn’t even noticed the way his thoughts had spiraled.
“We’ll be great,” Akaashi said quietly, his voice soft but resolute.
Bokuto grinned even wider, clearly satisfied with the response, and gave Akaashi’s shoulder a light squeeze before bounding ahead toward the gym.
Akaashi watched him go, his heart pounding with a mix of nervousness and something else, something thrilling. The lines were blurring between the life his parents wanted for him and the life he was starting to envision for himself. And with every step, he felt himself moving closer to that crossroads, to a point where he’d have to choose.
But maybe, just maybe, the choice wasn’t as hard as he thought.
Maybe, for the first time, he was starting to believe that what he wanted mattered more.
And what he wanted was right in front of him.
Bokuto.
Akaashi tightened his grip on the volleyball, the pressure in his chest lightening just a little. They were unstoppable on the court—and maybe, just maybe, off the court too.
The practice games began, and from the first whistle, it was clear that something special was happening between Akaashi and Bokuto. Their connection on the court, already strong, seemed to have sharpened to a new level. Every set Akaashi sent up, Bokuto hit with a precision and power that left their opponents scrambling. It was as if they could read each other’s minds—Akaashi didn’t even need to look most of the time; he just knew where Bokuto would be. It was seamless, effortless.
Bokuto, for his part, was on fire. Every spike he sent over the net landed with a force that sent shockwaves through the gym. His golden eyes were sharp, focused entirely on Akaashi and the ball, and the thrill of their partnership. He thrived off it—the way they synced up, the way Akaashi’s sets seemed to be made just for him. And each time Akaashi sent a perfect ball his way, it felt like proof that they were made to be on the court together.
Other teams started to take notice, and murmurs spread across the gym. The connection between Fukurodani’s ace and their young setter was undeniable—intimidating, even.
During breaks between games, players from other teams would give them curious glances, clearly wondering how two players could work so effortlessly together. Bokuto, oblivious to most of the stares, just kept flashing his usual grin at Akaashi, too wrapped up in the game to notice much else.
But Akaashi noticed. He always noticed.
Each time someone looked at them, whether out of admiration or curiosity, it added to the growing knot in Akaashi’s chest. He could feel the weight of those eyes—his teammates, the other schools, even Coach. It wasn’t just about the game anymore. People were starting to see them as a unit, something more than just setter and ace. It was as though the bond between them was starting to bleed off the court, becoming something that even Akaashi couldn’t quite name.
And that terrified him.
-
During one of the breaks, Akaashi found himself standing at the sidelines with Kenma, the Nekoma setter who, despite his quiet nature, had become something of an unexpected confidant. There was no need for idle chatter between them—they shared the same role on their respective teams, the same reserved demeanor, and a mutual understanding that went beyond words. Both of them were used to watching from the back row, observing rather than taking the spotlight. And it made the silence between them feel oddly comforting.
Kenma shifted slightly, his gaze never leaving the court where Bokuto was, predictably, in the middle of an animated conversation with Kuroo by the water station.
“You two are really in sync,” Kenma commented, his voice soft but steady, the kind of voice that didn’t need to be loud to be heard. His eyes were half-lidded, his expression as unreadable as always.
Akaashi’s focus drifted to Bokuto—he was laughing loudly, his usual boisterous self, pushing Kuroo playfully. Akaashi could feel the weight of Kenma’s observation, could feel it sink into the space between them. He glanced at Kenma, searching for a reply that wouldn’t reveal too much.
“We’ve been practicing together a lot,” Akaashi said, trying to keep his tone neutral. It was the easiest explanation. The safest.
But Kenma wasn’t one to settle for surface-level answers. His gaze flickered toward Akaashi, something unreadable in his eyes. Yet, there was a spark of understanding, a subtle knowing that lingered beneath his calm demeanor.
“Yeah,” Kenma replied, his voice low. “But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”
Akaashi felt his chest tighten. Kenma’s words cut deeper than they appeared to on the surface, pressing against the realization that had been gnawing at him for weeks—ever since the tournament, since the ice cream shop, since the walk with Bokuto and the weight of his hand in his. The feelings he had when he looked at Bokuto, when they played together, when Bokuto turned to him with that bright, unguarded grin… they weren’t just about volleyball. They weren’t just about the game anymore.
But admitting that, even in his own mind, felt like standing on the edge of something dangerous. And maybe he wasn’t ready to fall.
Akaashi didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The silence hung between them like a tether, but Kenma didn’t push. He wasn’t the type. Instead, Kenma gave a small, almost imperceptible nod—acknowledging, not pressing—as if to say, I understand. There was something oddly comforting in that, in knowing that someone else could see the things Akaashi wasn’t ready to say out loud.
“Kenma!” Kuroo’s voice rang out across the gym, loud and boisterous, breaking the quiet moment. Both Akaashi and Kenma looked over to see Kuroo jogging toward them, Bokuto trailing behind, his usual wide grin lighting up his face.
Akaashi instinctively straightened, feeling a small, unwelcome knot form in his stomach. There was nothing rational about it—it wasn’t jealousy, not exactly—but seeing Kuroo and Bokuto together, so easy, so familiar, stirred something in him. Something uncomfortable.
Kuroo slung an arm around Kenma’s shoulders with an ease that made Akaashi’s chest tighten further, that teasing grin plastered across his face like it always was when he was up to something.
“Hey, Akaashi,” Kuroo drawled, his voice practically dripping with mischief, “you and Kenma aren’t planning on running off to form a super setter duo, are you?”
Before Akaashi could even attempt a response, Bokuto’s head snapped toward them, his expression immediately serious in a way that only Bokuto could pull off. “No way! Akaashi’s my setter!” Bokuto bounded over, his hand clapping against Akaashi’s back with the force of a small explosion. He laughed, utterly oblivious to the tension bubbling just beneath the surface. “Right, Kaashi?”
There it was again. My setter.
Akaashi’s heart lurched at the casual claim, that small but undeniable thrill surging through him. Bokuto said it so easily, so naturally, like it was a simple fact of life—like the way their connection worked on the court was something that extended far beyond just volleyball.
The flutter of pride that always came with Bokuto’s praise was still there, but it felt different now. It wasn’t just about the game. It wasn’t just about being a good setter. It was about being Bokuto’s setter. And that distinction made Akaashi’s pulse quicken in a way that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.
“We make a good team,” Akaashi finally replied, keeping his voice even, though his heart was pounding in his chest. His words were simple, carefully measured, but the weight behind them was anything but.
Kuroo, ever perceptive, caught the subtle shift in Akaashi’s demeanor. His grin widened, sharp and amused, as if he had just discovered something far more interesting than volleyball strategy. He glanced at Bokuto, who was still oblivious, and then back at Akaashi, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Oh, I see how it is,” Kuroo said, his voice dropping into a teasing lilt. “You’ve got him whipped, huh?”
Akaashi’s face flushed, his mind racing. Whipped? His stomach twisted at the implication. But before he could muster a response, Bokuto, in his usual oblivious way, blinked in confusion.
“Whipped?” Bokuto echoed, frowning as if the concept didn’t even register. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Kuroo’s laugh was low and knowing, and Akaashi’s mind spun with a mix of emotions—confusion, embarrassment, frustration, and something else. Something heavier. Something that came with the realization that Kenma was right. That it was more than just volleyball.
But Bokuto didn’t notice any of it. He just grinned, completely unbothered, still beaming at Akaashi like everything was right in the world.
“Don’t worry about it, Bokuto,” Kuroo said with a smirk, patting Bokuto’s shoulder. “You’ll figure it out.”
Kenma, who had remained quiet throughout the entire exchange, shot Akaashi a look—half amused, half sympathetic. Akaashi sighed, grateful that at least Kenma wouldn’t push him on this. Not yet.
As Kuroo and Kenma wandered off, Bokuto bounced in place next to Akaashi, his energy undiminished. “Man, I’m ready to get back out there! Aren’t you?”
Akaashi nodded, though his mind was still reeling. The realization that Kenma had so easily grasped what he was struggling to admit to himself weighed on him. But even as he wrestled with those thoughts, he couldn’t help but feel drawn back to the simple fact that Bokuto wanted him by his side.
Maybe that was enough for now. Maybe, for now, it was okay to want something that had nothing to do with his family’s expectations, with their rigid plan for his future. Maybe, for once, it was okay to want something just for himself.
And Bokuto… Bokuto was what he wanted.
But for now, Akaashi wasn’t ready to say that out loud.
-
Bokuto wiped the sweat from his forehead, the hot afternoon sun beating down on the outdoor court where he and the rest of the spikers were gathered for their afternoon practice. The summer camp was in full swing, and as always, he was buzzing with energy. Nothing gave him a rush quite like volleyball, especially being surrounded by other top players from different schools. Even with the sun blazing, Bokuto felt completely alive, ready to push his limits.
He bounced on the balls of his feet, eyes darting across the court as the spikers began pairing off for drills. Naturally, Kuroo gravitated toward him, his usual smug grin in place as he clapped a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder.
“Ready to show these guys what real spikes look like?” Kuroo asked, his voice dripping with confidence.
“Obviously!” Bokuto shot back, grinning wide as he flexed his arms. “They’re not ready for us!”
The drill started simple—just a few spikes, getting their form down—but it wasn’t long before the rhythm between Bokuto and Kuroo settled into something familiar. They always worked well together, even if Kuroo’s smug attitude got on Bokuto’s nerves sometimes. But in the best way, of course.
Kuroo sent a perfect set toward Bokuto, and without missing a beat, Bokuto launched himself into the air, his body moving on pure instinct as he slammed the ball down with a force that reverberated across the court.
“Yeah!” Bokuto yelled, pumping his fist in the air, his grin wide and proud. He turned to Kuroo, who was chuckling under his breath. “That was awesome, right?”
Kuroo tossed the ball back, shaking his head in amusement. “You’re as loud as ever, Bokuto. Never change, man.”
Bokuto beamed, still riding the high of the spike. But as they continued through the drill, Kuroo’s words about not changing echoed in his head, and his mind began to wander—something it didn’t do very often during practice. Normally, he was laser-focused on the game, but lately… there had been something else occupying his thoughts. Or rather, someone.
Akaashi.
It wasn’t like it was weird or anything, right? They were teammates. Best friends. His setter. Of course, he thought about Akaashi a lot. They spent so much time together, and Akaashi was always there, calm and steady, setting up the perfect plays for Bokuto to spike. But lately, there had been more to it. More moments where Bokuto caught himself thinking about Akaashi outside of volleyball, outside of practice. More moments where he found himself wanting to be around Akaashi for no reason at all. Not just because they were teammates or because they were going over drills—just because.
Bokuto spiked the ball again, his form as perfect as ever, but this time, his heart wasn’t fully in it. He felt… distracted.
“Alright, out with it,” Kuroo said, breaking Bokuto from his thoughts. The Nekoma captain was watching him with raised eyebrows, arms crossed over his chest as if he’d been waiting for Bokuto to slip up. “Something’s on your mind, and it’s not just volleyball.”
“What?” Bokuto blinked, surprised. “No way, I’m totally focused!”
Kuroo gave him a look. “Bokuto, you’re spiking just fine, but you’ve had this weird look on your face the entire practice. So, spill it. What’s going on?”
Bokuto opened his mouth to deny it, but Kuroo’s gaze was too sharp. There was no point in lying. Not to Kuroo, anyway. He was annoyingly perceptive when he wanted to be.
“I’ve just… been thinking about some stuff,” Bokuto muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s nothing serious.”
Kuroo smirked, his eyes narrowing with amusement. “Oh yeah? What kind of ‘stuff’?”
Bokuto hesitated. He didn’t even know how to put it into words. His feelings were such a jumbled mess lately, especially when it came to Akaashi. It wasn’t like anything had happened, exactly, but ever since Kuroo had made that dumb comment about dates, Bokuto hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.
And then there was the ice cream thing… that had definitely been a date, right? Or had it? Bokuto still wasn’t sure. But when Kuroo had said it out loud, something in his brain had clicked. Like maybe there was more to his relationship with Akaashi than he’d thought before.
“I dunno, man,” Bokuto finally said, feeling the words tumble out before he could stop them. “It’s just… I’ve been thinking about Akaashi a lot lately.”
Kuroo raised an eyebrow, looking thoroughly unsurprised. “Oh? What about him?”
Bokuto shrugged, trying to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal. “I mean, we’ve been spending a lot of time together, and we’re, like, super in sync on the court, you know? He’s just… always there. And I guess people keep saying stuff about us being close, and—”
“Like that time they said you were dating?” Kuroo interrupted, his grin widening as Bokuto froze, his eyes widening in mild panic.
“Yeah, that!” Bokuto waved his hands around, flustered. “I don’t get it. I mean, I’ve been on dates before. I know what a date is. But with Akaashi… it doesn’t feel like that. It’s different.”
Kuroo hummed, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Different, huh? Different how?”
Bokuto frowned, searching for the right words. “I don’t know. It’s just… I like being around him. And I like talking to him. And we hang out all the time, but it’s not, like… weird. But sometimes, when I think about it, it does feel kinda like we’re closer than just friends, you know?”
Kuroo chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, I know.”
Bokuto shot him a confused look, but Kuroo just shrugged, as if Bokuto was missing something obvious. “Dude, it sounds to me like you’ve got some feelings for your setter.”
“Feelings?” Bokuto repeated, looking thoroughly bewildered. “Of course I have feelings for him! He’s my friend!”
Kuroo sighed, clearly amused by the entire situation. “No, I mean… feelings. Like, more than just friends.”
Bokuto blinked, his brain struggling to catch up. “Wait. You think I like… like-like Akaashi?”
Kuroo’s smirk grew even wider. “Took you long enough to catch on.”
Bokuto felt his heart skip a beat. “No way! I mean… that doesn’t make sense, right? I’ve never thought about Akaashi that way before!”
“Uh-huh,” Kuroo said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “And yet, here you are, rambling about how you’re thinking about him all the time and how you’re so ‘in sync’ and how everyone thinks you’re dating.”
Bokuto opened his mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. He had been thinking about Akaashi a lot. And sure, maybe his mind had wandered to how close they were getting, but that was just because they were friends, right? Friends could be close. It didn’t have to mean anything more than that.
But then again… maybe Kuroo was onto something. Maybe there was something more to the way Bokuto felt around Akaashi—the way his heart sped up when they were alone, the way he found himself wanting to be around him more and more. And maybe, just maybe, Bokuto wasn’t as oblivious as he’d been pretending to be.
“I don’t know, man,” Bokuto muttered, feeling a little lost. “I don’t know what to think.”
Kuroo’s expression softened, and for once, there was no teasing in his voice. “Look, Bokuto, it’s okay to be confused about this stuff. Feelings are messy. Trust me, I’ve been there.” He clapped a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder, his grip firm but reassuring. “Just… don’t overthink it, alright? Whatever’s going on between you and Akaashi, just let it happen. You’ll figure it out.”
Bokuto nodded, his mind still spinning, but Kuroo’s words offered a strange sense of relief. Maybe he didn’t need to figure it all out right now. Maybe it was okay to just let things be and see where they went.
“Thanks, Kuroo,” Bokuto said, managing a small smile. “You’re a good bro.”
Kuroo grinned. “Yeah, well, don’t go getting all sentimental on me. Let’s get back to those spikes, alright?”
Bokuto laughed, feeling some of the tension lift from his chest. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen with Akaashi, but for now, he was okay with that. As long as they were together—on the court, off the court, wherever—they’d figure it out.
One spike at a time.
-
The evening was calm, a stark contrast to the bustling energy that had consumed the gym earlier in the day. The players had scattered, some lounging in their classroom turned dorms, others gathering in small groups to unwind after a long day of training. The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, casting the camp in the soft glow of twilight, and the cool night air was a welcome change after hours of intense practice.
Bokuto sat on one of the benches outside the gym, the wooden seat slightly warm from the residual heat of the day. He stretched his arms over his head, staring up at the sky, feeling both exhausted and exhilarated. The stars had started to dot the darkening sky, and for once, Bokuto wasn’t bouncing with his usual energy. His mind was too full.
After the conversation with Kuroo, something had shifted. Or maybe, something that had always been there had finally started to make sense.
Akaashi.
Bokuto’s mind had been circling back to him all evening. The way Akaashi set for him on the court, how their timing was always perfect, how Bokuto always knew exactly where to be when Akaashi sent the ball his way. That was normal. That was volleyball. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way Bokuto felt around him. The way Akaashi always seemed to know what Bokuto needed without him having to say a word. The way his presence was steady, calming. Necessary.
Bokuto huffed, running a hand through his hair, feeling strangely out of his depth. He wasn’t used to thinking about these things. Normally, he just acted. But this? This was different. Confusing.
His mind drifted back to what Kuroo had said earlier—about Bokuto having feelings for Akaashi. More-than-friends feelings.
Was that what this was?
Bokuto frowned, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, staring down at the ground. He didn’t really understand the whole “liking” thing. He’d had crushes before, but this didn’t feel the same. It wasn’t like when he thought someone was cute or when he had asked a girl out just because his teammates dared him to. This was… deeper.
“Hey.”
Bokuto looked up, startled from his thoughts. Akaashi stood a few feet away, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. His face was calm, but his eyes flickered with something unreadable. He looked like he had been thinking too, maybe even wrestling with something similar to what Bokuto was feeling.
“Oh, hey Kaashi,” Bokuto said, sitting up straighter and patting the bench beside him. “What’s up?”
Akaashi hesitated for a moment before walking over and sitting down, the weight of the unspoken hanging between them. He didn’t say anything at first, just leaned back and gazed up at the stars, his shoulders brushing against Bokuto’s in a way that felt… comforting.
They sat like that for a while, the quiet night settling around them, a stark contrast to the noise that usually surrounded their lives. And for once, Bokuto didn’t feel the need to fill the silence. He just let it be, the two of them existing in the same space, side by side.
After a while, Akaashi finally spoke, his voice soft, thoughtful. “You were quiet during dinner.”
Bokuto blinked, surprised by the comment. Had he been quiet? “I was just thinking about some stuff.”
Akaashi nodded, but didn’t press him for details. That was one of the things Bokuto liked about Akaashi. He didn’t push when Bokuto wasn’t ready to talk. He just let Bokuto figure it out at his own pace.
For a moment, Bokuto debated whether to bring up what had been gnawing at him all day—the conversation with Kuroo, the confusing feelings swirling in his chest, the weird way people kept saying things about them being close. But then he thought of Akaashi, the way he always seemed so composed, and Bokuto didn’t want to mess that up. He didn’t want to make things weird between them.
But at the same time, he didn’t like the uncertainty. He didn’t like not knowing what this thing between them was.
“Kuroo said something earlier,” Bokuto finally said, his voice hesitant, a little unsure. He glanced at Akaashi, who was still staring up at the stars, his face unreadable. “He was teasing me about… us.”
Akaashi’s posture tensed, just slightly, but it was enough for Bokuto to notice. He could feel Akaashi’s breath hitch next to him, though Akaashi’s face remained calm.
“What did he say?” Akaashi asked, his voice careful.
Bokuto shifted awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “He made a joke about, you know… about us being more than just teammates. Like, how we hang out a lot. And how we’re always together. And how it’s kinda like… like we’re dating or something.”
The word hung in the air between them, heavy and awkward. Bokuto didn’t dare look at Akaashi’s face, his heart thudding in his chest, louder than before.
“And?” Akaashi’s voice was quiet now, barely above a whisper. There was something fragile in it, something that made Bokuto feel like he was walking on a tightrope, one wrong step away from falling.
“I don’t know, man,” Bokuto said, his words coming out in a rush now, as if he had to get it all out before he chickened out. “I didn’t know what to say. It doesn’t feel like that, but it also kinda does? Like, I don’t get it. It’s different with you, but I don’t know what that means, and I—” He cut himself off, groaning as he ran a hand through his hair again. “I’m probably not making any sense.”
Akaashi didn’t respond right away. The silence stretched between them, thick with tension, until Akaashi finally let out a breath, long and slow.
“It makes sense,” Akaashi said softly, so softly that Bokuto almost missed it. He turned to look at Akaashi, but Akaashi’s gaze remained fixed on the stars.
Bokuto’s heart did a weird little flip. “It… does?”
Akaashi nodded, but he still didn’t look at him. “It does.”
Bokuto felt a strange sense of relief wash over him. Maybe neither of them fully understood what was happening between them, but at least Akaashi felt it too. Whatever it was.
They sat there for a long time after that, neither of them speaking, just letting the quiet settle around them. The world felt small in that moment—just the two of them, under the stars, on a bench outside the gym, caught in the in-between of something more than friendship but not quite ready to name it.
And for now, that was enough.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The sky was still draped in the dim light of early morning when Akaashi slipped out of the gym, the distant hum of the players and the thud of volleyballs still echoing faintly from inside. The cool air hit his skin, a sharp contrast to the heat that lingered in the gym from hours of drills, and it was a relief. He needed this—space to think, to breathe, to process the weight of everything that had been swirling inside him for days now.
His head felt full—too full. The emotions that had been steadily building since camp began, since that walk with Bokuto, since their late-night conversation beneath the stars… it was all pressing in on him, but it wasn’t the same kind of pressure that used to suffocate him.
This pressure wasn’t about living up to someone else’s expectations. This was about something personal. Something he had always kept locked away, even from himself. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized it was about time he let it surface.
He crossed the empty school grounds, his feet instinctively carrying him to the quiet corner near the equipment shed. It was a place he’d often found himself when he needed solitude to sort through the noise in his head. But now, it wasn’t just noise. It was a shift. A turning point. The kind of moment where everything he thought he knew about himself was quietly being redefined.
He hadn’t meant for things to get this complicated. But at the same time, it wasn’t as complicated as he once thought.
Akaashi leaned against the side of the shed, staring out at the horizon as the first hints of dawn began to stretch across the sky. His thoughts swirled back to the conversation with Bokuto the night before—the uncertainty in Bokuto’s voice, the way he had tried to put into words something that neither of them seemed to fully understand yet. The way Bokuto had looked at him, with that raw openness, like Akaashi was the only one who could help him untangle the mess of feelings between them.
It made Akaashi’s heart ache, but not with confusion. It was an ache of realization. Of a want he had buried for too long.
For so long, Akaashi had been the one in control—the one who kept his emotions tucked away, who moved through life according to the plans laid out for him by his family. But this? This wasn’t something he could control. Not anymore. Bokuto made it impossible to stay locked behind those walls.
And it wasn’t just Bokuto’s presence on the court. It was the way Bokuto’s energy made everything lighter, how his laughter cut through the tension, how his hand on Akaashi’s shoulder made the pressure of being perfect feel like something distant, something that didn’t matter as much when it was just the two of them.
He had spent so long trying to be the perfect son, the perfect student, the perfect teammate, but maybe perfection wasn’t the point anymore. Maybe what he wanted—what he really wanted—was more important than the life his family had mapped out for him.
And what he wanted, more than anything, was standing right in front of him.
Bokuto.
Akaashi straightened up, his eyes catching the faint glow of the rising sun as it crept over the edge of the buildings. The weight in his chest lightened, just a little, as the sky began to shift from gray to soft hues of pink and orange. For the first time in a long while, Akaashi allowed himself to entertain the idea that maybe—just maybe—he could choose his own path.
And maybe, that path would include Bokuto.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of drills and practice matches. By the time evening rolled around, Fukurodani’s gym was alive with the familiar sounds of volleyball—shoes squeaking on the floor, the rhythmic thud of balls hitting the court, the steady chatter of teammates. It was routine by now, but for Akaashi, the air felt different. Lighter.
Bokuto had been in his usual energetic form all day, bouncing from drill to drill with his typical enthusiasm. But every now and then, Akaashi would catch him glancing his way, his golden eyes lingering just a little longer than usual. Each time, Akaashi’s chest tightened—not with panic, but with clarity. With certainty.
They were dancing around something—both of them. And for the first time, Akaashi wasn’t afraid of where that dance might lead.
As the final whistle blew, signaling the end of practice for the day, Bokuto bounded over to Akaashi, his face flushed from exertion but his grin as bright as ever.
“Kaashi!” Bokuto called, grabbing Akaashi by the arm before he could slip away with the rest of the team. “You wanna head out and grab something to eat with me? I’m starving!”
Akaashi blinked, caught off guard by the sudden invitation. He glanced around, noticing the rest of their teammates filing out of the gym in pairs or small groups. Normally, Bokuto would be swept up in the crowd, his energy drawing people to him like moths to a flame. But today, he was here, asking Akaashi to join him—just the two of them.
Akaashi’s pulse quickened, but this time, it wasn’t from anxiety. It was from something else—something that felt like possibility. “Sure. Let’s go.”
-
As they walked in comfortable silence, Bokuto felt the cool night air settle over them. His usual unbounding energy had simmered down—just a little—because, well… he couldn’t stop thinking. Not about the game or tomorrow’s drills. Not even about the killer spikes he’d landed earlier. His mind kept circling back to Akaashi. To what he’d said last night.
He glanced sideways at Akaashi, who was walking calmly beside him, looking composed as always. How does he do that? Bokuto wondered. How did Akaashi manage to always be so put together while Bokuto felt like he was spinning out half the time?
It was that steady presence that had pulled Bokuto in from the start. Sure, it started with volleyball, but now… now it felt like it was so much more. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but the way his chest tightened every time Akaashi looked at him, the way his pulse quickened when they brushed shoulders—it felt like something big.
And Bokuto wasn’t used to holding big feelings inside. He wore his heart on his sleeve. So why was it so hard to talk about this?
Because it’s Akaashi
, his mind answered. Because somehow, this felt more important than anything else. More important than volleyball, than being ace, than winning matches. He didn’t want to mess it up.
“So…” Bokuto started, his voice sounding strangely hesitant. He glanced at Akaashi, who gave him a quick, quiet look of acknowledgment. “About what I said last night…”
The second those words left his mouth, Bokuto felt a jolt of nerves in his gut. What if Akaashi didn’t feel the same? What if he’d just been overthinking everything, and Akaashi had already moved on?
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and…” Bokuto frowned slightly, unsure of how to say what he wanted to say. “I don’t know, Kaashi. I don’t really get it, but… it doesn’t feel weird when we’re together. You know?”
The words tumbled out clumsily, not at all how he meant to say them. But Akaashi didn’t look away. He just nodded, and something in that small motion made Bokuto’s heart leap.
He had never had to work this hard to figure out his own feelings before. Normally, Bokuto knew exactly what he wanted and went for it. But with Akaashi… it was different. Bokuto didn’t know how to describe it, but whatever it was, it felt good. It felt right. And, somehow, it felt like it mattered more than anything else in his life.
“I’ve never really thought about anyone like this before,” Bokuto continued, his voice lower now, less sure. “But with you… it’s different.”
Akaashi’s chest tightened, and for a moment, he was too stunned to respond. But then, as they walked side by side in the quiet night, something clicked into place inside him. He didn’t have to have all the answers. He didn’t have to fit neatly into a box or label what this was. All he had to do was let himself want it.
“Me too,” Akaashi whispered, his voice barely audible, but the words carrying more weight than anything he’d said in a long time.
Bokuto stopped walking, turning to face Akaashi fully. His golden eyes were wide, searching Akaashi’s face for some kind of confirmation, some sign that he wasn’t imagining things.
“You too?” Bokuto echoed, his voice laced with both surprise and relief.
Akaashi met his gaze, his heart racing but steady, and nodded. “Yeah… me too.”
For a moment, neither of them moved. They just stood there, bathed in the soft glow of the streetlights, the quiet of the night wrapping around them like a blanket. And in that moment, Akaashi felt something settle inside him—something that hadn’t been quite right until now.
Bokuto’s face broke into a wide grin, and without warning, he grabbed Akaashi’s hand, squeezing it tight. “Then that settles it!” he declared, his usual exuberance returning in full force. “We’re in this together, right?”
Akaashi couldn’t help but smile, the tension in his chest finally giving way to something lighter, something warmer. “Yeah,” he said, his voice firm. “We’re in this together.”
-
After their exchange beneath the streetlights, a comfortable silence settled between them again, and they resumed their walk, side by side, toward the small row of restaurants near the school. The tension that had been hanging in the air between them for weeks seemed to have lifted, leaving behind something softer, something easier. Bokuto was back to his usual self, bouncing with excitement as they approached the restaurant.
They eventually found a cozy ramen place—small and tucked away, but known for its late-night hours and comforting bowls of noodles. Bokuto practically skipped through the door, his earlier nerves completely evaporated, while Akaashi followed with a calm smile. The smell of broth and sizzling meat filled the air, and as they settled into a booth by the window, Akaashi couldn’t help but feel the warmth of the place seep into him.
The waiter brought over menus, but Bokuto didn’t even need to look. “I’ll have the tonkotsu ramen!” he said brightly, flashing the waiter a grin before turning his gaze to Akaashi. “What about you, Kaashi?”
Akaashi glanced at the menu briefly before giving his order. “Shoyu ramen for me, please.”
As the waiter left, Bokuto leaned back in his seat, his golden eyes bright with excitement. “Man, I’m starving,” he said, drumming his fingers on the table. “I can’t believe I made it through practice without eating more snacks.”
Akaashi couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “You had two onigiri before practice started,” he pointed out.
Bokuto shrugged with a sheepish grin. “Doesn’t count. That was like a warm-up snack.”
The easy banter between them felt reassuring, and Akaashi found himself relaxing more with each passing second. There was something grounding about Bokuto—something steady, despite his bursts of energy and enthusiasm. Being with him felt natural, and even now, with the acknowledgment of something more between them, Akaashi realized that nothing had to change.
Bokuto wasn’t expecting anything from him, wasn’t pushing for answers or labels. He was just… there, like he always had been, bright and unwavering in his affection.
“So, about last night,” Bokuto began, a little more cautiously this time as he traced a finger along the condensation on his glass of water. His eyes were serious, though there was still a softness in them. “I didn’t mean to freak you out or anything, Kaashi.”
“You didn’t freak me out,” Akaashi said quickly, wanting to put Bokuto at ease. The last thing he wanted was for Bokuto to worry. “It’s just… it’s new. For both of us.”
Bokuto nodded slowly, leaning forward. “Yeah, but that’s okay, right? We don’t have to figure it all out now. We can just… you know… keep being us.” His smile returned, tentative at first, but then wider, more confident. “Like we’ve always been.”
Akaashi felt something loosen in his chest at those words. Bokuto was right. They didn’t have to define it. They didn’t have to force it into some rigid structure. They could just be—together, in whatever way made sense for them.
“Exactly,” Akaashi replied, meeting Bokuto’s eyes with a soft smile of his own. “Nothing has to change.”
Bokuto beamed, visibly relieved. “Good! Because I don’t want anything to change. I like things the way they are—with you.” He took a sip of his water, still grinning. “Besides, we’re unstoppable on the court. We wouldn’t want to mess that up, right?”
Akaashi chuckled. “No, we wouldn’t.”
Their ramen arrived a few minutes later, and for a while, they ate in comfortable silence. Bokuto slurped his noodles with his usual enthusiasm, while Akaashi ate more slowly, savoring the rich broth and tender slices of pork. The warmth of the meal, combined with the steady presence of Bokuto across the table, wrapped around him like a blanket, comforting in its simplicity.
As Bokuto continued chatting about their upcoming practice matches and strategies for their next tournament, Akaashi found himself watching him—not in the way he usually did on the court, where he calculated Bokuto’s movements and anticipated his spikes—but in a way that felt more personal. He watched the way Bokuto’s eyes lit up when he got excited, the way he gestured wildly with his chopsticks when he was in the middle of a story, the way his laughter filled the small restaurant, unrestrained and full of life.
And in that moment, Akaashi realized something important.
This was enough.
Whatever this was—this thing between them—it didn’t need to be defined or dissected right now. It could just be. And that was okay. They could take their time. They could let it unfold naturally, without rushing or worrying about what it all meant.
Because Bokuto wasn’t going anywhere. He was here, just as he had always been, unwavering in his presence. And Akaashi realized, with a quiet certainty, that he didn’t have to be afraid of it. He didn’t have to have all the answers right away.
They finished their meal, and Bokuto paid—insisting that it was his treat since he’d dragged Akaashi out so late. “Besides,” he said with a wink, “I’m pretty sure I owe you for all those times you’ve bailed me out during practice.”
Akaashi smirked, shaking his head. “You don’t owe me anything, Bokuto-san.”
But Bokuto just waved him off. “Come on, Kaashi. You can let me treat you once in a while.”
-
The walk back to the gym was filled with more of Bokuto’s chatter, his energy picking back up as they talked about strategies for the next day’s matches. Akaashi listened, his own thoughts much quieter now, content to let Bokuto’s enthusiasm carry them forward.
When they stepped back inside the gym, the lights were dim, and the familiar smell of wood and sweat lingered in the air. It was late, and most of their teammates had either gone to bed or were winding down in the makeshift dormitories set up for camp.
“Well, well, look who finally decided to show up,” came Kuroo’s unmistakable teasing voice from the bleachers.
Akaashi and Bokuto stopped in their tracks, turning toward the sound. Kuroo and Konoha were lounging on the bleachers, smirking at them like cats who had just caught a mouse. Off to the side, Kenma sat cross-legged on the floor, focused on the screen of his Switch, though Akaashi could tell from the slight quirk of his lips that he was listening to every word.
“The lovebirds are back,” Konoha added, barely containing his grin.
Bokuto’s eyes widened, and he flailed his arms in defense. “What?! We weren’t—!”
“Oh, sure,” Kuroo interrupted with a mock wave of his hand. “Just a nice little late-night dinner, huh?”
“We weren’t on a—”
“A date? Oh, we know,” Konoha cut in with a wink. “But I bet everyone else won’t be so sure.”
Kuroo leaned forward with a grin. “That’s two secret dates now, Bokubro. Are we going to get invitations to the wedding or what?”
Bokuto turned bright red, burying his face in his hands as he groaned. “Why do you guys always make things so weird?!”
“Because it’s fun,” Kuroo said, leaning back with a smirk. “Watching you freak out is basically the highlight of my day.”
Akaashi crossed his arms, giving them both a pointed look. “Don’t you two have somewhere else to be?”
“Oh, I’m sure we do,” Kuroo replied, standing up slowly, still smirking. “But watching this unfold is too good to pass up.”
Kenma, still focused on his game, sighed softly. “Kuro,” he muttered, “leave the lovebirds alone.”
That earned a chuckle from Konoha, who leaned over and whispered something to Kuroo that made him grin even wider. Bokuto groaned louder, sinking lower in his seat as if trying to disappear into the floor.
Akaashi felt his face flush, but instead of letting the embarrassment get to him, he shot a quick glance at Kenma. The setter looked up briefly, and in that single, sharp look, they shared an unspoken conversation.
Are you okay with this?
Kenma’s eyes seemed to ask, the quiet weight of the question hanging in the air.
Akaashi gave the faintest of nods, and Kenma’s lips twitched in the smallest hint of a smile. He returned to his game, content that Akaashi was handling the situation just fine.
Finally, Bokuto pulled his face out of his hands and gave Akaashi a sheepish look. “Maybe next time we’ll just have to hide better,” he muttered under his breath.
Akaashi smirked, his heart feeling unexpectedly light. “Next time.”
Kuroo and Konoha exchanged knowing glances, their teasing smiles growing wider. “Next time, huh?” Kuroo asked with a raised eyebrow. “Sounds like a plan.”
Bokuto groaned again, but this time, it was accompanied by a small laugh. Akaashi chuckled, too, the tension from earlier completely gone.
Whatever came next, they’d handle it—together.
-
Day 4 of camp rolled in with the usual frenzy. The teams were up early, rubbing sleep from their eyes as they staggered into the gym for morning drills. The players were a mix of sleepy and wired, chugging down water and energy drinks to prepare for another intense day of practice matches and team drills. Despite the exhaustion, there was a buzz in the air—a sense that the camp was building toward something big.
Akaashi, however, had managed to carve out a quiet moment. After their warm-ups, he found Kenma sitting off to the side of the court, resting against the wall with his ever-present Switch in hand, headphones snugly over his ears. He didn’t seem particularly interested in the chaos around him, which wasn’t unusual. Kenma always had a way of making himself disappear into the background when he wanted to.
Akaashi wandered over, deciding that a quiet conversation was exactly what he needed after last night’s teasing from Kuroo and Konoha.
Kenma didn’t look up as Akaashi approached, but as soon as he sat down next to him, Kenma pulled his headphones down and paused his game. His gaze flicked briefly to Akaashi, then back to his Switch screen, as if weighing whether to engage in conversation or not.
“You survived the ambush last night,” Kenma commented casually, his voice soft but with a hint of amusement.
Akaashi huffed, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms. “Barely.”
Kenma’s lips twitched upward into what could almost be considered a smile—if you knew him well enough. Akaashi had spent enough time around him during matches with Nekoma to catch these subtle shifts in expression.
“Did you and Bokuto have your dramatic confession under the stars?” Kenma asked dryly, his eyes still glued to his screen, but his voice laced with sarcasm.
Akaashi shot him a side-eye, debating how much to share. Kenma was one of the few people who didn’t press for more information than what was offered, which made it easy to talk to him. He was like a quiet sounding board, and his calm presence was a nice contrast to the chaos of camp.
“We talked,” Akaashi said simply, leaving it at that.
Kenma finally looked at him, one eyebrow raised. “Just talked?”
Akaashi nodded, feeling a slight heat rise in his cheeks despite himself. “Yeah. Just talked.”
Kenma’s gaze lingered on him for a second longer before he returned his attention to his Switch. “Good. I like you two together.”
Akaashi blinked, caught off guard by the casualness of the comment. “What do you mean?”
Kenma didn’t look up. “I mean that you two work. Bokuto needs someone like you—someone who can balance out his energy. And you… well, you seem happier around him.”
Akaashi opened his mouth to respond but found himself at a loss for words. Was it that obvious? He hadn’t thought of himself as someone who showed his emotions so plainly, but maybe Kenma—like always—was more perceptive than he let on.
“Anyway,” Kenma continued, “I’m glad you talked. Bokuto can be a bit dense, but he means well.”
“Yeah,” Akaashi agreed, “he does.”
They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the sounds of sneakers squeaking on the court and volleyballs echoing in the gym providing a steady background noise.
Akaashi leaned his head back against the wall, glancing at Kenma’s game screen, though he didn’t really understand what was happening. He was just glad for the quiet moment, for someone who didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with chatter.
After a few beats, Akaashi let out a soft sigh, a thought that had been nagging at him since the night before surfacing again. He turned to Kenma, hesitant but knowing that if anyone would understand, it would be him.
“Is it weird that I get kind of… irritated?” Akaashi started, frowning slightly. “Like, every time Kuroo gets all touchy with Bokuto, it bothers me more than it should.”
Kenma didn’t look up from his Switch, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes now. “You’re jealous.”
Akaashi shot him a glare. “I’m not jealous.”
“Right,” Kenma said, dragging the word out, clearly unconvinced.
Akaashi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… I know they’re friends. They’ve always been close. But sometimes, Kuroo can be so—”
“Touchy-feely?” Kenma finished for him, not even trying to hide his smirk now.
Akaashi nodded reluctantly. “Exactly. It’s like he knows it bothers me and does it on purpose.”
Kenma’s eyes flicked up briefly before returning to his screen. “Oh, he probably does. Kuro loves getting under people’s skin.”
That earned a soft groan from Akaashi. “Great.”
Kenma, seemingly unfazed, continued playing his game, the soft sounds of clicks and music filtering through his headphones. Akaashi crossed his arms, sinking deeper into his mild irritation, wondering why Kuroo always had to insert himself into Bokuto’s space.
But then, without warning, Kenma started laughing. And not just his usual soft, amused chuckle—this was a full-blown, shoulder-shaking laugh. Akaashi turned to him, wide-eyed and completely confused.
Kenma was laughing so hard now that he had to set his Switch down, wiping tears from his eyes. He tried to speak but kept dissolving into laughter, leaving Akaashi staring at him in bewilderment.
“Kenma, what’s so funny?” Akaashi asked, thoroughly thrown off by this rare display of emotion.
It took Kenma a few more moments to collect himself, but when he finally did, he wiped his eyes again and turned to Akaashi, a wide grin still on his face.
“Because, Akaashi,” Kenma said between small bursts of laughter, “Kuroo’s touchy with Bokuto because he knows it gets a rise out of you. But he’s not into Bokuto.”
Akaashi frowned, still not understanding. “Then why does he—?”
“He’s into me,” Kenma said bluntly, his grin widening as he saw Akaashi’s expression shift from confusion to shock. “We’ve been dating for months.”
Akaashi stared at him, utterly floored. “What?!”
Kenma let out another laugh, clearly enjoying Akaashi’s reaction. “Yeah, we’ve been together since last year. It’s not a secret, but I guess you never picked up on it.”
Akaashi’s mind raced, trying to reconcile this new information.
Kuroo and Kenma?
That explained… a lot. All those times Kuroo had casually draped himself over Kenma or sat a little too close during matches. How had he never noticed?
“You’re dating Kuroo?” Akaashi repeated, still in disbelief.
Kenma shrugged, picking up his Switch again as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on Akaashi’s day. “Yep.”
Akaashi sat back, processing the revelation. Suddenly, all of Kuroo’s teasing, his constant needling, his smug looks when he saw Bokuto and Akaashi together—it all made sense now. Kuroo was enjoying watching Akaashi squirm because he knew exactly what it felt like to be in that situation.
“So,” Kenma said, his tone light but his eyes sharp as he glanced back at Akaashi, “maybe next time, don’t worry so much about Kuroo and Bokuto. He’s not your competition.”
Akaashi blinked, then shook his head, a small laugh escaping his lips despite himself. “I guess not.”
Kenma gave him a knowing look, his expression calm once again. “Exactly.”
Akaashi sat there, still reeling from the revelation but also strangely relieved. The irritation that had been gnawing at him suddenly seemed so pointless. Kuroo had never been a threat—not in the way Akaashi had feared.
He sighed, feeling the tension leave his body as he leaned back against the wall once more.
Kenma, ever the enigma, simply returned to his game, as if nothing had changed at all.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The sun was dipping low in the sky, casting long shadows across the camp as the final day wound down. The barbecue, filled with laughter and the smell of grilling meat, had just come to an end, and the post-meal drowsiness was starting to set in. Players from all the participating schools milled about, gathering their things and saying their goodbyes. There was a quiet, bittersweet hum in the air—a kind of energy that only came after days of hard work, camaraderie, and the subtle awareness that the experience was over.Akaashi zipped up his duffle bag and gave the gym a final glance. It looked different now—empty and quiet compared to the earlier frenzy of drills and matches. The echoes of squeaking sneakers and volleyballs hitting the floor were gone, replaced by the sound of idle chatter and goodbyes. Even though it had only been five days, it felt like the end of something significant.He slung his bag over his shoulder, feeling the weight of his belongings and the strange mix of emotions that had been building since the start of camp. He hadn’t expected things to change so much—certainly not in such a short span of time. But as he stood there, looking around, he realized he was walking away with more than he’d arrived with. A little more clarity about what he wanted, about who he was—both on and off the court.“Kaashi! You ready?”Bokuto’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He was standing a few feet away, his duffle bag slung over one shoulder and a grin plastered on his face. Akaashi gave him a nod, his lips quirking into a small smile in response.“Yeah, I’m ready.”They walked out of the gym together, heading toward the front parking lot where the teams were gathering. Players tossed their bags into buses, parents pulled up to collect their kids, and coaches were giving last-minute instructions to their players. It felt chaotic, but there was an undercurrent of nostalgia—a collective understanding that the time spent together had been meaningful.Akaashi could already see some of the Nekoma players gathering near their bus, and as they walked closer, he spotted Kuroo and Kenma among them. Kuroo was talking loudly to one of his teammates, his voice carrying across the parking lot, while Kenma stood a few feet away, his Switch tucked under his arm as if he had finally torn himself away from it for the evening.Kuroo was the first to notice them.“Bokubro! Akaashi!” Kuroo called out, waving them over. “Don’t even think about leaving without saying goodbye.”Bokuto grinned and bounded over, his usual energy still buzzing even after a long day of practice and games. He threw his arms around Kuroo, pulling him into one of his famous bear hugs. Kuroo let out a dramatic groan, but he didn’t push him away.“You better keep practicing, Kuroo,” Bokuto said, laughing as he let go of him. “We’re gonna crush you at Nationals.”Kuroo smirked, fixing his hair after the bear hug. “Oh yeah? We’ll see about that. I’m pretty sure we’ve got a secret weapon or two up our sleeves.”Bokuto laughed, but then his expression shifted, turning more serious. “But seriously, this camp was awesome. I’ll miss playing with you.”Kuroo’s smirk softened into something more genuine, and he clapped Bokuto on the back. “Same here, Bokuto. Same here.”As Bokuto and Kuroo continued to banter, Akaashi found himself standing beside Kenma. They hadn’t talked much outside of their quiet conversations during camp, but there was a kind of unspoken understanding between them. Kenma, with his quiet, observant nature, had quickly become someone Akaashi found he could talk to without feeling the pressure to say too much.“You heading home soon?” Kenma asked, his voice soft but clear as he glanced at Akaashi from the corner of his eye.Akaashi nodded. “Yeah. My sister’s picking me up.”Kenma gave a small nod of acknowledgment before falling silent again. They both watched as Kuroo and Bokuto continued to exchange half-joking, half-serious challenges for their upcoming matches. It was strange—Akaashi felt like the week had flown by, but at the same time, it had been packed with so many small moments that would probably stick with him for a long time.After a few more moments of silence, Kenma shifted slightly, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Here,” he said, holding it out toward Akaashi. “Let’s exchange numbers. We’ll keep in touch.”Akaashi blinked in surprise but quickly fished his own phone out of his pocket. They exchanged numbers with little fanfare, but it felt like a meaningful gesture—a silent promise that their connection wouldn’t end when the buses pulled away.“Thanks,” Akaashi said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “I’ll text you.”Kenma nodded. “Same.”As they finished, Bokuto finally noticed what was going on and bounded over, his eyes wide with something like panic. “Wait, Kaashi! You gave Kenma your number?”Akaashi tilted his head, slightly confused. “Yeah?”Bokuto crossed his arms, a pout forming on his lips. “But I don’t even have your number!”Akaashi blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean? We see each other every day.”“That’s not the point!” Bokuto huffed, looking genuinely flustered. “What if I want to text you about something that’s not volleyball?”Akaashi chuckled softly and pulled his phone back out. “Alright. Here.”They exchanged numbers quickly, and Bokuto’s entire demeanor shifted back to his usual cheerful self, as if the world had righted itself now that he had Akaashi’s contact information. “Okay, good,” Bokuto said, beaming down at his phone. “Now I can text you whenever I want!”Akaashi smiled at Bokuto’s enthusiasm, tucking his phone away again.But as Bokuto’s excitement faded, he grew thoughtful. He glanced over at Kenma, who had returned to his quiet spot by the bus, and then back at Akaashi. “Hey, Kaashi… you know, Kenma’s great. He’s, like, calm and collected all the time. You two seem to get along.”Akaashi raised an eyebrow, unsure where Bokuto was going with this.“I was just thinking,” Bokuto continued, looking almost hesitant now, “maybe you’d be better off with someone like Kenma. I mean, I can get a little… a lot sometimes. Maybe you’d want someone who’s more… I don’t know… steady?”Akaashi blinked in surprise, his heart skipping a beat. For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to respond. He hadn’t expected Bokuto to be so self-aware, and the sudden vulnerability in his voice tugged at something deep insideBokuto shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, you know, Kenma’s cool and all…”“Bokuto,” Akaashi interrupted softly, stepping a little closer, “I don’t need someone likeBokuto looked at him, his brow furrowed in confusion.“I need you,” Akaashi said, his voice steady and certain. “I don’t need calm or collected. I need you—just the way you are.”For a moment, Bokuto just stared at him, wide-eyed and uncharacteristically quiet. Then, slowly, a bright, genuine smile spread across his face—one of those smiles that lit up his entire expression.“Yeah?” Bokuto asked, his voice soft but filled with relief.Akaashi nodded, feeling his own chest lighten. “Yeah.”Bokuto’s grin only widened, his usual exuberance returning as he gave Akaashi a playful nudge on the shoulder. “Okay! Good. Because I’m really bad at being calm.”Akaashi chuckled, shaking his head. “I know.”They stood there for a few moments, the weight of the conversation settling between them, before Kuroo called out from the bus. “Alright, team! Time to head out. Let’s get this show on the road.”Kenma, who had been quietly observing, slipped his Switch back into his bag and moved toward the bus with Kuroo. Bokuto and Kuroo exchanged one last round of playful banter, with Bokuto promising to beat them at Nationals and Kuroo firing back with his usual confidence.As the Nekoma bus doors closed with a soft hiss, Akaashi stood back, watching it pull out of the parking lot. A strange mix of emotions swirled inside him—nostalgia for the camp, excitement for what lay ahead, and a quiet sense of gratitude for the people he’d met along the way.But then, as the bus disappeared down the road, Akaashi’s eyes caught sight of a familiar car pulling into the parking lot. His heart clenched painfully in his chest. It was his sister’s car. The car that would take him back home. Back to reality.Suddenly, the weight of everything—the camp, the conversations, the clarity he had found—seemed to press down on him all at once. The freedom he’d felt here, the space he had to explore his own feelings, was about to vanish. His family’s expectations, the carefully curated future they wanted for him, loomed over him like a storm cloud.Akaashi froze, his heart racing. Panic clawed at his chest, sharp and cold. He wasn’t ready to go back. He wasn’t ready to face all of it.Beside him, Bokuto noticed the change immediately. Without a word, he reached out and gave Akaashi’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. The warmth of his touch cut through the cold wave of panic, anchoring him.“Hey,” Bokuto said quietly, his voice gentle in a way Akaashi hadn’t heard before. “Text me when you get home, okay? I’ll see you at school on Monday. If not sooner.”Akaashi turned to look at him, meeting Bokuto’s golden eyes, which were full of understanding and quiet support. And in that moment, the weight on Akaashi’s chest loosened just a little.“Yeah,” Akaashi replied softly. “I will.”Bokuto gave him one last squeeze before stepping back, his usual grin returning. “Alright! See you soon,As Bokuto jogged off toward the rest of the team, Akaashi stood there, watching him go. His sister’s car was waiting, the harsh reality of home pulling at him. But as he walked toward it, the feeling of Bokuto’s hand on his shoulder lingered—like a promise.He wasn’t alone. And whatever came next, he knew he could handle it.-The weekend passed by in a blur of nothingness. Akaashi spent most of it holed up in his room, his thoughts constantly drifting back to camp. He replayed the moments between him and Bokuto— their conversation under the stars, their silent walk back from the ramen place, and that warm, reassuring squeeze on his shoulder as he left camp on Friday.Bokuto, in typical fashion, had sent a flurry of memes and volleyball clips to the group chat with Konoha and Komi—one that Akaashi hadn’t asked to be a part of but tolerated nonetheless. He hadn’t responded much, just an occasional polite comment or a smile at Bokuto’s relentless energy. But the weekend passed quietly. Uneventfully.And then came Monday.Akaashi noticed something was wrong almost immediately after stepping onto school grounds. As he walked through the front gates, a few students he vaguely recognized from his classes were huddled in groups, whispering. At first, he thought nothing of it—teenagers liked to gossip, and the camp had just ended. Maybe they were talking about the upcoming volleyball matches or some drama that had nothing to do with him.But then the whispers stopped when he got close. And the looks—subtle, but unmistakable—shifted from idle curiosity to something harsher. Something that made his stomach twist.He kept walking, trying to brush it off. But it didn’t stop.In the hallway, more whispers. A girl from his class gave him a fleeting look of disgust before quickly turning away. Another student, someone from his science class, avoided his eyes and ducked into a classroom as he passed by.By the time Akaashi made it to his first class, the unease had settled deep in his bones. He tried to focus, but it was impossible. The strange, uncomfortable attention followed him all morning, like a shadow he couldn’t shake. And the worst part was—he had no idea why.By lunch, Akaashi’s nerves were shot. He sat down at their usual table in the cafeteria, trying to ignore the sidelong glances and hushed conversations happening around him. He poked at his food, his mind racing, but no one had said anything directly to him. The tension was unbearable.Finally, Bokuto arrived, as carefree as ever, sliding into his seat with a tray piled high with food. “Hey, Kaashi!” he said brightly, as if nothing were wrong in the world.Akaashi forced a smile but said nothing.A few minutes later, Konoha sat down across from them, his brow furrowed. He looked from Akaashi to Bokuto, then back to Akaashi. “So… are you guys aware of what’s going on?”Akaashi’s heart lurched. Finally. Someone was going to tell him what was happening. “No,” he said quickly, trying to keep the edge of panic out of his voice. “What’s going on?”Bokuto, meanwhile, was happily munching on his food, utterly oblivious to the tension radiating fromKonoha raised an eyebrow at Bokuto, then turned back to Akaashi, his expression more serious now. “There are rumors going around.”Akaashi felt his heart start to pound, but he forced himself to stay calm. “What rumors?”Konoha hesitated, glancing at Bokuto again before answering. “That you two are… dating.”Akaashi’s breath caught in his throat. Dating? People thought he and Bokuto were dating?Bokuto, of course, completely missed the point. “Well, we are, but we aren’t,” he said nonchalantly, stuffing another bite of food into his mouth.Akaashi’s heart was racing now. The world seemed to tilt on its axis as the full weight of Konoha’s words sank in. Everyone was talking about them. They thought… they thought he and Bokuto were—“But the rumors,” Konoha continued, lowering his voice as he leaned in, his tone more serious now. “They’re not just saying you’re dating. They’re saying you two were sneaking off together at volleyball camp… to do inappropriate things.”The words hit Akaashi like a punch to the gut. His entire body tensed as the full implication of what Konoha was saying registered in his mind.Sneaking off together?Inappropriate things?Akaashi felt his stomach churn. His throat tightened, and the panic that had been simmering inside him all morning suddenly boiled over. His sister. His parents.He barely registered Bokuto’s confusion as he sat frozen, staring down at his untouched food. If people were talking, it wouldn’t be long before his sister heard about it. And if his sister heard…“I can’t…” Akaashi muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t do this.”Konoha frowned, his eyes narrowing with concern. “Akaashi?”“I… I need to go,” Akaashi said suddenly, his chair scraping against the floor as he pushed it back and stood up. His chest felt tight, and panic clawed at the edges of his mind. They’re going to find out. And then…“My parents…” Akaashi finally said, his voice strained. “They won’t accept this. They won’t accept me.”Bokuto blinked, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. “What do you mean? That’s nonsense! You’re—you. Why wouldn’t they—?”“They don’t know,” Akaashi interrupted, his voice shaking. “They don’t know I’m… gay.”The words hung heavy in the air, and for the first time, Bokuto looked genuinely rattled. Konoha and Komi exchanged a worried glance, their teasing demeanor gone. This wasn’t just schoolyard gossip to Akaashi. This was real.“Akaashi…” Konoha said softly, understanding dawning in his eyes.“My sister will hear about it, and she’ll tell my parents,” Akaashi said, his voice tight with fear. “And they… they’ll disown me.”Bokuto’s eyes widened, and he immediately shook his head, his usual optimism bubbling up. “No way! That’s not gonna happen. Your parents love you, right? They’ll—”“You don’t understand, Bokuto,” Akaashi interrupted, his voice sharper now. “They’re strict. Traditional. They already think volleyball is a waste of time. If they find out about this…”Akaashi trailed off, his breathing unsteady.Bokuto was visibly struggling to comprehend what Akaashi was saying, his golden eyes wide with concern and confusion. But Konoha stepped in, placing a steady hand on Akaashi’s shoulder. He had seen it before. His own cousin’s family had been torn apart by something similar, and it hadn’t ended well.“Hey,” Konoha said softly, his voice calm and grounding. “We’ll figure this out. You don’t have to go through this alone.”Akaashi took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm the storm brewing inside him. He nodded, though the panic still clung to him like a second skin.Bokuto, still reeling from the conversation, looked at Akaashi helplessly. He hated feeling like this—like there was something he couldn’t fix with his usual boundless energy and positivity. But right now, Akaashi needed more than that. He needed something solid to hold onto.“I’m here, Kaashi,” Bokuto said quietly, his voice softer than usual. “We’re all here. We’ll figure it out.”Akaashi’s chest was still tight, but the presence of his friends—Bokuto, Konoha, Komi—helped ground him, if only a little.“Thanks,” Akaashi whispered, his voice hoarse from holding back everything that was threatening to spill over.The lunch bell rang, signaling the end of the period. Bokuto, Konoha, and Komi stood up with Akaashi, and they walked together toward the lockers, a quiet solidarity between them. Akaashi’s hands were still shaking slightly, but Bokuto stayed close, a silent presence of support.But when they reached Akaashi’s locker, they froze.Painted in large, crude letters across the metal door were four letters.H-O-M-O.Akaashi’s breath caught in his throat, his body going cold as he stared at the slur smeared across his locker. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. The world seemed to tilt dangerously around him.Bokuto was the first to react. “What the—? Who did this?” His voice was louder than necessary, full of anger and disbelief.Konoha stepped forward, inspecting the locker with a frown. “This is messed up,” he muttered, clearly disturbed.Akaashi, though, couldn’t respond. His mind had gone blank, his chest constricting painfully as everything came crashing down. It’s happening. My worst fear. They know. Everyone knows.Before he could fully process the weight of it all, the loudspeaker crackled to life.“Akaashi Keiji and Bokuto Koutarou, please report to the main office immediately. Akaashi Keiji and Bokuto Koutarou to the main office.”Akaashi’s heart dropped into his stomach. No. Please, no.Beside him, Bokuto’s eyes widened in confusion, but he instinctively reached out, taking Akaashi’s hand in his own. Akaashi’s breath hitched at the contact, but he didn’t pull away. He didn’t know what else to do.“Come on,” Bokuto said quietly, giving Akaashi’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”Akaashi nodded, though his body felt numb. He followed Bokuto down the hall, his feet feeling heavy with every step. His heart pounded in his chest, dread creeping up his spine as they approached the office.And when they walked through the door, Akaashi’s worst fear was realized.Standing inside were both of his parents.And Bokuto’s mother.-Walking into the office, Bokuto’s heart raced. He and Akaashi had barely exchanged words on the way over, and now the tension in the room was suffocating. As soon as they stepped through the door, Bokuto’s eyes darted to the two pairs of adults waiting for them. Akaashi’s parents sat stiffly on one side of the room, their faces cold and unreadable. His mother, seated next to them, glanced up as Bokuto entered, offering him a calm, reassuring look.But Akaashi’s parents? There was nothing warm in their expressions. If anything, they looked… disgusted.Bokuto didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all.They were directed to sit down, side by side. Bokuto felt a flicker of hope that Akaashi would look his way, give him some kind of signal, something to show he was still there, still grounded. But Akaashi’s eyes were fixed on the floor, his hands gripping the edge of his seat so tightly his knuckles had turned white.The principal, an older man who looked like he’d much rather be anywhere else, sat down across from them and folded his hands on his desk. He let out a long sigh before he began, his voice firm but tired.“I want to start by saying how disappointed I am,” the principal said, his tone grave. “Both of you are outstanding students, and I expected better behavior, especially from leaders of our school.”Bokuto’s head snapped up, his gut twisting. Disappointed? What the hell did we do wrong?“What do you mean, ‘better behavior’?” Bokuto demanded, his voice sharper than he intended. He could feel the tension in his chest building, his hands clenching into fists in his lap. “We didn’t do anything wrong!”The principal’s lips thinned. “There have been… rumors circulating, about the two of you. Suggesting inappropriate conduct during the volleyball camp. Sneaking off alone together.”Bokuto’s breath hitched. He could hear the barely restrained disgust in the principal’s voice, and his heart pounded harder in his chest. He wanted to lash out, to scream that it wasn’t true, that it wasn’t like that—but he had to stay calm. For Akaashi. He had to.“We didn’t do anything inappropriate,” Bokuto blurted, his voice wavering with frustration. “We weren’t sneaking off to—” He couldn’t even finish the sentence, his cheeks burning as the weight of the implication settled in.Akaashi hadn’t moved, hadn’t said a single word. Bokuto stole a glance at him, but Akaashi’s expression was unreadable, his gaze still glued to the floor.The principal leaned forward, his gaze narrowing. “So you’re saying the rumors are completely false?”“They’re not—” Bokuto faltered. “I mean, we did go off by ourselves sometimes, but we weren’t doing anything wrong! We were just talking.”He could feel Akaashi’s parents staring holes into the back of his head, and he hated it. He hated the judgment radiating from them, the silence, the coldness. It wasn’t fair. None of this is fair.“And what about these rumors about your relationship?” Akaashi’s mother finally spoke, her voice icy and clipped. “Are those lies, too?”Bokuto froze.“Relationship?” He echoed, suddenly unsure of how to respond.“You know exactly what I mean,” Akaashi’s father said, his voice low and threatening. “People are saying that the two of you are involved.”There it was. The disgust in his tone, the way he said “involved” like it was something dirty, something wrong. Bokuto’s blood boiled.“We’re not—” Bokuto started, but the words caught in his throat. His mind was spinning. Were they dating? They hadn’t exactly talked about it like that. But there was something between them, something real, something that had started to form at camp.But before he could even piece together a proper response, Akaashi’s mother spoke again, her voice sharp as a knife.“Are you gay, Keiji?”The question hung in the air, cold and heavy. Bokuto’s heart plummeted. He looked at Akaashi, who still hadn’t said a word, still hadn’t lifted his head. His face was pale, his shoulders hunched like he was trying to fold in on himself.Akaashi’s parents didn’t care about the sneaking off. They didn’t care about the rumors. They cared about one thing.They cared that their son might be gay.Akaashi’s silence answered the question for them. His mother’s expression twisted in disgust, and his father let out a harsh, bitter laugh.“I knew it,” he spat. “I knew something was off the moment you started spending all your time with this… this boy.” His eyes flicked to Bokuto, filled with disdain. “This is shameful. Absolutely shameful.”Bokuto’s heart pounded in his chest, his vision blurring with rage. Shameful? Was that what they thought of Akaashi? Was that what they thought of him?He couldn’t keep quiet anymore. “You can’t talk to him like that!” Bokuto burst out, his voice trembling with fury. “We haven’t done anything wrong! We—”But Akaashi’s father cut him off, his voice cold and final. “Stay out of this. This is our son’s problem.”Bokuto’s fists clenched at his sides. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How could they say that to him? How could they treat Akaashi like this?The principal, sensing the growing tension, cleared his throat. “Bokuto, let’s stay focused on the issue at hand. I understand that this is an emotional situation, but—”“No,” Bokuto snapped, cutting him off. “The issue is that someone vandalized Akaashi’s locker today. They painted a slur on it—‘H-O-M-O.’ That’s the real problem. Not rumors about us.”The room fell into stunned silence. The principal’s face softened slightly, his stern demeanor cracking as the gravity of the situation finally hit him.“That happened?” he asked quietly, his voice losing some of its edge.“Yes,” Bokuto confirmed, his voice shaking. “Someone targeted Akaashi because of these stupid rumors. That’s what you should be dealing with, not us. We didn’t do anything wrong.”The principal nodded slowly, his eyes flicking toward Akaashi, who still hadn’t spoken. “I wasn’t aware of that. I’ll have the janitorial staff clean it up immediately, and we’ll launch an investigation into who’s responsible.”The principal turned to Bokuto’s mother, offering her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions. We’ll investigate the situation further and get to the bottom of the vandalism. Both boys are excused for the rest of the day, and I’ll make sure this is handled appropriately.”Akaashi’s parents remained silent, but Bokuto could feel the coldness radiating from them.The principal dismissed them, and they stood up to leave. Bokuto tried to catch Akaashi’s eye, but Akaashi kept his gaze firmly on the ground, his body stiff and withdrawn.As they walked out into the hallway, Bokuto’s mother put a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. But just as they stepped into the hall, Bokuto heard the harsh, cutting voice of Akaashi’s father behind them.“What were you thinking, Keiji? How could you embarrass us like this?” His voice was low, dripping with disdain.Akaashi flinched but didn’t respond. Bokuto’s stomach twisted as he watched Akaashi shrink under the weight of his father’s words, his shoulders curling inward.“We didn’t raise you to be… this,” his father continued, his voice venomous. “You’re not my son anymore.”Bokuto’s heart stopped. Not your son anymore?Akaashi’s mother stood beside him, silent but no less condemning. Bokuto’s blood boiled. How could they say that to him? How could they just—But before he could react, before he could do something reckless, his mother stepped forward. “How dare you speak to him that way?” she snapped, her voice sharp and furious.Akaashi’s father turned to her, his face twisted with anger. “This is none of your concern.”“It absolutely is,” she retorted, stepping in front of Akaashi protectively. “He’s a child. He’s your child. And you don’t get to throw him away because you don’t approve of who he is.”Akaashi’s parents didn’t respond. They turned and walked away without another word, leaving their son standing alone in the hallway, his eyes wide, his face drained of color.Bokuto’s mother immediately rushed to Akaashi’s side, pulling him into her arms. She whispered soothing words, but Akaashi didn’t respond. He didn’t make a sound. He just stood there, tears streaming down his cheeks, his entire body trembling.Bokuto stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest, his fists shaking at his sides. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to run after Akaashi’s parents, to scream at them, to demand they take back what they’d said. But more than that, he wanted to protect Akaashi—to wrap him up and shield him from everything.But I can’t do that.Not right now. Not like this.“I’ll be back,” Bokuto muttered, his voice tight and barely controlled. He turned on his heel and stormed down the hallway, his feet pounding against the floor with every step.He couldn’t be here right now. He needed to get away, to cool down, before he did something reckless.But as he walked away, his heart ached with every step, knowing that Akaashi was still standing there, broken and alone.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The sun had dipped below the horizon hours ago, leaving the neighborhood bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. Bokuto stood outside the gym, shirt clinging to his skin, his breath heavy with exhaustion. His hands throbbed from hours of spiking the volleyball against the wall as hard as he could, but the burn felt good. It was grounding. It kept him from thinking about everything that had happened earlier, at least for a while.
Each slam of the ball against the brick had been cathartic, like he could hit the frustration and helplessness right out of himself. But now, as he stood alone in the quiet courtyard, sweat dripping down his neck, the temporary relief began to fade. He couldn’t stay here all night, hammering a volleyball against a wall. He had to go home. He had to be there for Akaashi.
He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and bent to pick up the volleyball that had rolled a few feet away. As his fingers closed around the cool surface of the ball, he let out a slow, steadying breath. His mind was clearer now, the anger and frustration dulled into something manageable. He had needed this—needed to blow off steam, to clear his head. But now that it was done, he knew where he was needed.
Akaashi needed him.
Bokuto stood up straight, tossing the ball back into the storage room by the gym doors. He slipped his phone out of his pocket, blinking as the bright screen illuminated in the darkness. He hadn’t even realized how long he’d been outside. The hours had passed in a blur, and the message from his mom had been waiting for him for a while.
Mom: I brought Akaashi back home with me. He’s okay, but I think he could use some company. Take your time. I love you.
A small knot of emotion tightened in Bokuto’s chest. His mom had taken care of Akaashi when Bokuto couldn’t. She had been there, like she always was, offering comfort in her quiet, steady way. Bokuto had always appreciated his mother, but after today—after everything that had happened—he realized just how much he loved her for being the kind of person who could pick up the pieces when he couldn’t.
He quickly typed out a response.
Bokuto: Thanks, Mom. I’m on my way.
He slipped his phone back into his pocket and started walking. The gym wasn’t far from his house—maybe ten minutes on foot. Bokuto often preferred walking anyway, especially at night. It gave him time to think, time to clear his head. Tonight, though, his thoughts were focused on one thing.
Akaashi.
The image of Akaashi’s tear-streaked face earlier, the hollow look in his eyes as his parents walked away without a second glance, was burned into Bokuto’s mind. His heart clenched painfully every time he thought about it. How could they do that to him? How could they just… disown him like that?
Bokuto didn’t understand. He didn’t get how someone could turn their back on their own kid just because of who they loved. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got, but then he’d remind himself to calm down. Akaashi needed him to be steady right now. He couldn’t storm in there, full of rage and frustration. Akaashi had been through enough today without Bokuto’s emotions making things worse.
As he rounded the corner to his street, Bokuto spotted the familiar shape of his small family home at the end of the block. It wasn’t much—just a modest, cozy space that Bokuto had grown up in with his mom and sisters. There wasn’t a lot of room to spare, but they made it work. He stood there for a moment, staring at the front door, before taking a deep breath and letting himself in quietly.
The house was still. The warm glow from the small living room lamp lit the space in a soft, welcoming light. Bokuto’s mother was sitting on the couch, a book in her hands, but she looked up as soon as he stepped inside.
“You’re back,” she said gently, her voice warm and soothing, like it always was. “Akaashi’s upstairs resting. He’s had a rough day.”
Bokuto nodded, his throat tightening with unspoken emotion. He swallowed it down, grateful for his mom, for her steady presence. She’d taken care of Akaashi when he hadn’t been able to. That thought filled him with gratitude he couldn’t quite express.
He crossed the room in a few quick strides and wrapped his arms around her in a tight, fierce hug. “Thanks, Mom,” he murmured into her shoulder. “For everything.”
She patted his back softly, her smile widening as she pulled away. “Of course, honey. That’s what moms are for.”
Bokuto stepped back, giving her a small, grateful smile. “I’m gonna go check on him.”
She nodded. “Go ahead. I think he’ll be glad to see you.”
Bokuto made his way up the narrow staircase, each step slower than the last. As he reached the top, his heart pounded in his chest, but it wasn’t from the physical exertion of the stairs. It was something else—something heavier, more emotional. He didn’t know what to expect when he opened the door, but he knew he had to be there for Akaashi, no matter what.
When he reached the door to his room, Bokuto hesitated, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He could feel the weight of the day pressing down on him, but there was no room for hesitation. Not now.
He knocked softly.
“Akaashi? It’s me.”
There was a pause before he heard Akaashi’s voice, quiet and hoarse. “Come in.”
Bokuto pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a small lamp casting a gentle light over the space. Akaashi was lying on Bokuto’s bed, his back against the pillows, his eyes half-lidded and tired. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His usually composed expression was replaced with something fragile—something vulnerable.
Bokuto’s heart clenched at the sight of him. Seeing Akaashi like this, in his own bed, stirred something inside him that went beyond sadness for what had happened today. It wasn’t just about Akaashi’s parents anymore. It was about Akaashi himself. How much Bokuto cared for him. How much he wanted to protect him from everything.
He moved quietly across the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to crowd him. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t want to push, but he also didn’t want Akaashi to feel like he had to carry everything alone.
“Hey,” Bokuto said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You doing okay?”
Akaashi glanced over at him, his tired eyes meeting Bokuto’s. He didn’t speak for a long time, and when he finally did, his voice was rough, like he hadn’t used it in hours.
“Thanks,” Akaashi murmured, his words barely audible. “For being here.”
Bokuto’s chest tightened, and he reached out, placing a hand gently on Akaashi’s arm. “Always, Kaashi. I’m always here.”
Akaashi didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to. The weight of Bokuto’s words hung between them, solid and unspoken. And in that moment, sitting side by side in the dim light of the room, Bokuto realized something important.
He wasn’t just here for Akaashi because he felt like he had to be.
He was here because he wanted to be. Because Akaashi mattered more to him than he’d realized. And maybe, just maybe, that was something worth holding onto.
-
Bokuto watched Akaashi sink deeper into the pillows, his usually sharp eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. The tension that had been clinging to him all day had finally loosened, if only slightly, now that they were together again. Bokuto wanted to say more, to fill the quiet space with words that would somehow make everything better, but he knew Akaashi didn’t need that right now.
What he needed was simple: comfort.
“I’m gonna get you some water, okay?” Bokuto said softly, rising from the bed. He hesitated for a second, not wanting to leave Akaashi alone for even a moment, but he forced himself to move. “Help yourself to whatever is in the closet or dresser if you want to change clothes before you go to sleep.”
Akaashi gave a small nod, his eyes fluttering closed again. Bokuto could see the exhaustion in every inch of him, and it broke his heart a little more with each passing second.
Bokuto slipped out of the room, padding down the hallway to the bathroom to fill a glass with water. As he did, his mind raced, trying to process everything that had happened that day. Akaashi was strong—stronger than anyone gave him credit for—but even he had limits. Today had pushed him to the brink. Bokuto could feel it in the way Akaashi had barely spoken, in the quiet weight of his words.
He grabbed a clean glass from the cabinet and let the cool water flow from the tap, watching it fill up. The sound of the running water was a welcome distraction, a small reprieve from the storm of emotions swirling inside him.
When Bokuto returned to his room, Akaashi had already changed into something more comfortable—probably one of Bokuto’s old t-shirts from the drawer—and was resting back against the pillows. His face was still pale, but his expression had softened.
Bokuto handed him the glass of water. “Here.”
Akaashi took it gratefully, sipping slowly before giving a soft, almost imperceptible smile. “Thanks.”
Bokuto sat back down on the edge of the bed, watching Akaashi for a moment. The silence between them was comfortable, though the weight of the day still lingered in the air. But for just a moment, they could pretend everything was okay.
Suddenly, Bokuto’s stomach let out a loud, insistent growl, breaking the quiet.
Akaashi blinked, then let out a soft chuckle, the sound quiet and slightly hoarse but full of genuine amusement. Bokuto’s face flushed in embarrassment, but then he found himself laughing too, the sound of Akaashi’s laughter lightening the room, if only for a moment.
“You should eat,” Akaashi said after a few seconds, his smile fading back into something more reserved but still present. “You’ve been out there for hours.”
Bokuto opened his mouth to protest—he didn’t want to leave Akaashi alone again—but Akaashi shook his head, cutting him off.
“I’ll be fine,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Just… don’t take too long, okay?”
Something about the way Akaashi said it—about the way he asked Bokuto to come back—made Bokuto’s heart race in a way he wasn’t expecting. He nodded quickly, trying to push down the sudden rush of emotions that surged through him.
“I’ll be back soon,” he promised, giving Akaashi a quick grin before standing up.
As he made his way downstairs, his mind was still spinning, but his heart felt a little lighter. The small moment of laughter between them had broken through some of the tension, and knowing that Akaashi wanted him to stay close—it meant more to Bokuto than he could put into words.
When he reached the kitchen, his mother looked up from where she was tidying the counter, her soft eyes immediately landing on him. She didn’t say anything at first, just smiled gently.
“Everything okay upstairs?” she asked, her voice full of quiet concern.
Bokuto nodded, though his mind was still buzzing with everything that had happened. “Yeah. He’s resting.”
His mother gave a small nod, understanding passing between them without the need for more words. Then, she gestured toward the stove. “I can warm up some dinner for you. You must be starving.”
Bokuto’s stomach growled again in response, and he grinned sheepishly. “That’d be great, Mom. Thanks.”
As his mother busied herself with reheating the leftovers from dinner, Bokuto sank into one of the kitchen chairs, letting out a long breath. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until now. The exhaustion from the day was finally catching up to him, but knowing that Akaashi was upstairs, safe and resting, made it easier to breathe.
The kitchen was quiet except for the soft clinking of dishes and the hum of the microwave, but then a sharp buzzing noise interrupted the calm. Bokuto frowned, glancing around the room. It wasn’t his phone—that much he knew—but the insistent buzzing continued, cutting through the quiet.
“Do you hear that?” he asked, glancing at his mom, who was stirring a pot on the stove.
She looked up, her brow furrowed. “It’s not my phone. Maybe it’s one of your sisters’?”
Bokuto stood up, the buzzing growing louder as he moved toward the living room. After a few moments of searching, he found the source of the noise—a phone wedged between the couch cushions.
Akaashi’s phone.
Bokuto picked it up, frowning at the bright screen that lit up in his hand. There was a new message notification, the words flashing across the screen like a taunt.
Emiko: Your things need to be picked up by the end of the week, you dirty faggot.
For a moment, Bokuto couldn’t breathe. The words slammed into him like a punch to the gut, the sheer cruelty of them sending a shockwave of anger and disgust through his entire body. He stared at the message, his mind going blank, his hands trembling.
Then, without thinking, Bokuto’s grip tightened around the phone, and with a sudden burst of uncontrollable rage, he hurled it across the room.
The phone hit the wall with a loud crack, shattering into a million pieces on impact. Bokuto stood there, chest heaving, his heart pounding in his ears as he stared at the remains of the phone scattered across the floor.
His mother rushed in from the kitchen, her eyes wide with alarm. “What happened? What was that noise?”
Bokuto turned toward her, his face flushed with anger, his hands still shaking. “It was… it was Akaashi’s phone,” he said, his voice tight with barely restrained fury. “His sister… she sent him—” He stopped, his voice catching in his throat. “She sent him something awful.”
His mother’s expression softened immediately, understanding washing over her. She stepped closer to him, resting a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry, honey,” she whispered, her voice full of quiet sympathy.
Bokuto closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing, to keep himself from falling apart completely. He couldn’t lose it. Not now. Not when Akaashi needed him to be strong.
He took a deep breath and nodded, feeling his mother’s hand still resting on his arm, grounding him.
“I’ll clean it up,” he muttered, though his voice was still shaky.
His mother shook her head gently. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it. Just sit down, okay? Eat something.”
Bokuto hesitated for a moment, then finally nodded, sinking back into the chair. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to push the anger away, to focus on the fact that he needed to stay calm. He couldn’t let this get to him—not when Akaashi was upstairs, probably already dealing with more than he could handle.
His mother set a plate of warmed-up dinner in front of him, and Bokuto gave her a small, grateful smile. He picked up his fork, the familiar smell of the food helping to ground him.
But as he ate, the message from Akaashi’s sister still burned in the back of his mind, and he couldn’t help but wonder how much more Akaashi would have to endure before things finally got better.
-
Upstairs, the house was quiet—peaceful in a way that felt foreign after the chaos of the day. Bokuto stepped lightly as he made his way back toward his room, trying not to disturb Akaashi, who had fallen asleep in his bed. He wasn’t surprised to find Akaashi already sleeping; the exhaustion had been written all over his face. Still, it tugged at something deep inside Bokuto, seeing him curled up on his side, snoring softly into the pillow.
A small, fond smile played at the corners of Bokuto’s lips as he paused in the doorway. He watched Akaashi for a moment longer, feeling his heart swell with a mix of emotions he didn’t quite know how to put into words. He’d always cared about Akaashi—as a teammate, as a friend—but today, that feeling had grown into something deeper. Something protective. Something that made him want to shield Akaashi from everything the world was throwing at him.
He slipped quietly into the room, grabbing a fresh change of clothes from his dresser. The dim light of the bedside lamp cast a soft glow over Akaashi’s peaceful expression, and for a second, Bokuto’s heart clenched again. He hated how much pain Akaashi had gone through today—how much he’d been forced to endure. But seeing him like this, resting peacefully, gave Bokuto a sense of relief. At least, for now, Akaashi could escape the heaviness of everything that had happened.
With his clothes in hand, Bokuto tiptoed back out of the room and headed to the bathroom to shower.
Akaashi stirred at the faint sound of the door closing behind Bokuto. His body felt heavy with exhaustion, but the bed was warm and comfortable, cocooning him in a way that made him reluctant to move. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep so quickly, but the quiet of Bokuto’s room had been comforting in a way that he hadn’t realized he needed.
Everything that had happened today—the confrontation with his parents, the pain of hearing them disown him, the fear that had gripped his heart as they walked out of that office without a second glance—it all felt like a distant memory now, wrapped in the gentle haze of sleep. But even in this brief reprieve, Akaashi couldn’t shake the lingering weight of what was to come.
When he heard the door open again, the soft rustling of Bokuto moving around the room, Akaashi’s mind stirred more fully from the haze of sleep. He kept his eyes closed, not ready to face reality just yet, but the presence of Bokuto nearby was grounding. It always had been. There was something about the warmth Bokuto carried with him that made Akaashi feel… safe.
A few moments later, Akaashi heard the creak of the mattress as Bokuto climbed into bed beside him. He shifted instinctively, turning over in his sleep and reaching out without thinking. His arm found its way across Bokuto’s broad chest, and he pressed his head against the warm, solid surface of Bokuto’s body. His toned chest made a surprisingly comfortable pillow, and without a second thought, Akaashi let himself relax into it.
The steady rise and fall of Bokuto’s breathing beneath him was soothing, pulling Akaashi further away from the nightmares that had haunted him all day. It wasn’t long before his body fully relaxed again, sinking into the warmth and security that Bokuto provided.
For a moment, there was only silence. The kind of silence that came with trust—with the unspoken understanding that whatever happened next, they’d face it together.
But something nagged at the edge of Akaashi’s mind, a distant memory of a noise from earlier that had slipped into his consciousness even through the haze of sleep. His voice, still groggy and thick from slumber, broke the quiet.
“What was that noise?” Akaashi asked softly, his words muffled slightly by Bokuto’s chest.
Bokuto stiffened beneath him, just a fraction, and Akaashi felt it immediately. He opened his eyes, looking up at him through the dim light of the room.
Bokuto shifted slightly, his hand resting gently on Akaashi’s back. “Uh… nothing serious,” he said carefully, his voice low. “Your phone buzzed, and… it was a message from your sister.”
Akaashi’s heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, panic flashed through him. But Bokuto’s voice was gentle, reassuring, and he quickly forced himself to calm down. He knew his sister’s messages couldn’t be good—not after the way their parents had left things earlier—but he didn’t feel the same sense of dread he had felt before.
“What did it say?” Akaashi asked quietly.
Bokuto hesitated, his hand tightening slightly where it rested against Akaashi’s back. “It wasn’t anything important,” he finally said. “Just… not something you need to worry about right now.”
Akaashi let out a slow breath, feeling some of the tension leave his body. He could tell that Bokuto was holding something back, but he appreciated the effort to shield him from more bad news. He didn’t need to ask what the message said. He could guess the gist of it, anyway.
For a moment, Akaashi lay there in silence, listening to the steady rhythm of Bokuto’s breathing beneath him. He could feel the weight of the day pressing down on both of them, but there was something comforting about being here like this—just the two of them, curled up in the small bed, their worries pushed aside for the moment.
And then, unexpectedly, a quiet chuckle escaped from Akaashi’s lips.
Bokuto tensed again. “What? What’s funny?”
Akaashi shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he pressed his forehead against Bokuto’s chest. “It’s just… ironic,” he murmured, his voice soft but amused.
Bokuto frowned, clearly confused. “Ironic?”
“Yeah,” Akaashi said, his voice still tinged with amusement. “In a way… I’m free now.”
Bokuto went silent for a second, clearly processing Akaashi’s words. Then, when the meaning sank in, he let out a small, bewildered noise, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“You’re… free?”
Akaashi’s smile widened just a fraction, though it was laced with bitterness. “It’s not like I ever felt like I could truly be myself around my parents,” he admitted, the words slipping out easily in the dark. “I was always pretending. Always trying to be what they wanted me to be.” He paused for a second, letting out a soft breath. “But now… now I don’t have to.”
Bokuto didn’t respond immediately, and Akaashi could feel the weight of his silence. He knew Bokuto probably didn’t know how to react to something like this—something so heavy, so wrapped in pain but also a strange sense of release.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Akaashi continued, his voice quieter now. “It hurts. It hurts more than I want to admit. But… it’s also kind of a relief.” He closed his eyes, feeling the slow, steady beat of Bokuto’s heart beneath him. “I don’t have to pretend anymore.”
Bokuto was quiet for a moment longer, his hand resting gently on Akaashi’s back as if grounding him, offering him silent support. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, more thoughtful.
“I guess… I never thought about it like that,” Bokuto admitted, his brow furrowed. “I just—” He let out a slow breath, his hand tightening slightly on Akaashi’s back. “I’m sorry, Kaashi. I don’t know how to make this better.”
“You don’t have to make it better,” Akaashi murmured, his voice soft and steady. “You’re here. That’s enough.”
For a few moments, there was only silence again—the kind of silence that was comfortable, that spoke of trust and understanding. Akaashi let himself relax into Bokuto’s warmth, feeling the weight of the day slowly lift from his shoulders.
And in that quiet, in the safety of Bokuto’s arms, Akaashi allowed himself to breathe again. To let go of the pain, if only for a little while.
Because even though his world had shattered today—even though everything he’d known was crumbling around him—he wasn’t alone.
Not anymore.
Akaashi sighed softly, his body finally starting to relax against Bokuto’s chest. The steady rise and fall of Bokuto’s breathing was a comfort, but even in this warmth, the weight of reality still lingered at the edges of Akaashi’s mind. His parents were gone from his life, and that was one thing he could almost come to terms with. But the logistics of it all—what came next—that was another matter entirely.
He swallowed, feeling a small knot of anxiety tighten in his chest again. “I still have to figure out how to get my things from my house,” Akaashi murmured, almost to himself, his voice soft in the quiet of the room. “I knew what the message from my sister meant… I just don’t know how to handle it.”
He paused, lifting his head slightly to meet Bokuto’s eyes in the dim light. “And… I guess there’s the question of where I’m going to live.”
Bokuto’s brows knitted together in confusion at first, and then his eyes widened in realization. His mouth opened, but Akaashi was quicker, sensing what was coming before Bokuto could even say it.
“Before you say it,” Akaashi cut in gently, “I can’t impose on you and your family. You’ve already done enough for me.”
Bokuto’s expression shifted, a flash of panic crossing his face. “What do you mean, ‘impose’? You wouldn’t be imposing!”
Akaashi let out a small, rueful chuckle, but there was an edge of sadness in his voice. “Bokuto, I can’t just move in with you. I appreciate everything you’ve done, but this isn’t your responsibility. Besides…” He trailed off, hesitating for a moment before continuing, “I have family out of town. They’ve offered before for me to stay with them. It wouldn’t be ideal, but it’s an option.”
The second the words left Akaashi’s mouth, he felt Bokuto tense beneath him. The reaction was immediate, like someone had just pulled the floor out from under him. Bokuto’s arm tightened reflexively around Akaashi’s back, his breath catching in his throat.
“Wait,” Bokuto said, his voice shaking slightly. “What do you mean, leaving? Like, leaving Tokyo?”
Bokuto’s heart pounded as Akaashi’s words sank in.
“I mean, I have family in the country,” Akaashi said softly, his voice steady, but there was something fragile in it. “But if I go there, it would mean leaving.”
Leaving.
The word echoed in Bokuto’s head, crashing into him like a wave. Akaashi might leave. He might actually go somewhere far away, somewhere Bokuto couldn’t follow. Somewhere Bokuto couldn’t just see him every day at school or walk him home after practice or steal quiet moments like this.
“No.” Bokuto didn’t realize he’d said it out loud until he saw Akaashi looking at him, eyes wide.
“You… you can’t leave, Kaashi.” Bokuto’s voice wavered, a hint of panic creeping in. His hands gripped the sheets tightly as if holding onto something would help him stay grounded. “You just… you can’t.”
Akaashi blinked, his brow furrowing. “Bokuto, I—”
“I mean it,” Bokuto cut him off, his tone more urgent now. He sat up fully, turning toward Akaashi. “Stay with us. Stay with me. You don’t need to go anywhere. There’s no reason for you to leave.”
“Bokuto,” Akaashi started again, softer this time, but Bokuto didn’t let him finish.
“You don’t understand,” Bokuto said, his heart racing. “I can’t let you leave. You can stay at my house. We’ll make room. My family won’t mind. You can’t just—” His voice cracked, the emotion too heavy in his throat. “You can’t leave.”
Akaashi’s heart clenched at the desperation in Bokuto’s voice. He had never seen him like this before—so afraid, so raw with emotion. The sight of it, the vulnerability, made something shift inside him. Bokuto wasn’t just asking him to stay out of convenience. This wasn’t just about logistics or practicality.
Bokuto needed him to stay. He wanted him to stay.
And that realization hit Akaashi harder than anything else. In that moment, the walls he’d kept up around his feelings for Bokuto, the careful distance he’d maintained between them, all began to crumble.
“Bokuto,” Akaashi said, his voice gentler now. “I don’t want to impose on your family. I… I couldn’t do that to you.”
Bokuto shook his head fiercely, his grip on the sheets tightening. “You wouldn’t be imposing! My mom wouldn’t care. She loves you. My sisters love you. I—” His voice caught again, his words stumbling out faster than he could process them. “I can’t let you leave. You can’t leave.”
Akaashi stared at him, something warm blooming in his chest, spreading through his limbs, through his veins. Bokuto was staring back at him with those wide, earnest eyes, filled with so much emotion, so much need that it made Akaashi’s breath catch.
“You really want me to stay,” Akaashi said softly, almost to himself, as the weight of Bokuto’s feelings settled over him.
“Yes.” Bokuto’s voice was barely above a whisper, but there was no hesitation. No doubt. Just pure, unwavering conviction. “I want you to stay.”
Akaashi’s heart pounded in his chest, a wild, uncontrollable beat. He had always known Bokuto cared about him—he’d felt it in every hug, every laugh, every shoulder bump after a successful spike. But this… this was something deeper. Something more than just friendship or teammates or even the bond they shared on the court.
This was Bokuto telling him, in no uncertain terms, that he couldn’t imagine his life without Akaashi in it.
And suddenly, everything became clear.
Akaashi didn’t want to leave either. He didn’t want to run away to some distant family members in the country. He didn’t want to hide, or pretend like none of this mattered. He wanted to stay.
Because Bokuto mattered to him more than anything else.
Without thinking, without even fully processing the emotions rushing through him, Akaashi reached out, cupping Bokuto’s cheek with one hand. Bokuto froze, his eyes widening in surprise, but he didn’t pull away. His breath hitched as he stared at Akaashi, waiting, unsure of what was happening.
And then, in a soft, steady movement, Akaashi leaned forward and pressed his lips to Bokuto’s.
The kiss was tentative, gentle—a quiet confession in the dark. It wasn’t rushed or desperate, but it was filled with all the things Akaashi hadn’t been able to say. It was his answer to Bokuto’s unspoken question, the reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere.
For a moment, Bokuto didn’t move. His mind was racing, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst out of his chest. But then, slowly, he kissed Akaashi back, his hand moving up to rest on Akaashi’s arm as he leaned into the warmth, the comfort of the moment.
It wasn’t perfect. Their lips bumped awkwardly, and there was a moment of hesitation before they found their rhythm. But it was real, and that was what mattered. It was them.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other. Bokuto’s heart was still racing, his mind spinning with a hundred different thoughts, but one thought stood out above all the rest.
Akaashi was staying.
“You’re not leaving,” Bokuto whispered, his voice trembling slightly with relief.
Akaashi smiled softly, his thumb brushing against Bokuto’s cheek. “I’m not leaving,” he repeated, his voice firm, steady. “I’m staying.”
Bokuto let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his shoulders sagging with relief. He smiled—bright and wide and full of so much emotion that it made Akaashi’s heart swell.
“I’m glad we settled that,” Akaashi said, his voice tinged with amusement.
Bokuto’s grin widened, his hand still resting gently on Akaashi’s arm. “Me too.”
The tension that had been hanging in the air between them dissolved, replaced by something lighter, something warmer. They sat there for a long moment, just breathing together, letting the weight of everything that had happened settle into something comfortable, something certain.
Akaashi wasn’t going anywhere.
And that, for Bokuto, was enough.
The silence between them was warm and comfortable, and Bokuto felt his eyelids grow heavier as they started to drift toward sleep. But just as the soft haze of exhaustion began to pull him under, Akaashi’s quiet voice broke the silence.
“Keiji.”
Bokuto blinked, confused for a moment. “Huh?”
Akaashi shifted slightly, lifting his head to meet Bokuto’s gaze. His expression was calm, but there was something playful in his eyes as he clarified. “Call me Keiji.”
The simple request made Bokuto’s heart stutter. Keiji. Hearing Akaashi offer his first name, opening himself up even more, was like another quiet declaration of trust. It was something so personal, something so theirs.
Bokuto could feel the excitement bubbling up inside him, threatening to burst out at any moment. His body tensed, the overwhelming urge to jump up and cheer nearly impossible to resist. But he bit back his enthusiasm, forcing himself to stay still, to stay calm.
“Keiji,” Bokuto repeated softly, testing the name on his tongue. He smiled, his chest swelling with something he couldn’t quite name. “Keiji.”
Akaashi smiled again, his eyes soft and half-lidded with sleep. “Good.”
Bokuto hesitated for a moment, then asked, his voice barely above a whisper, “Can you… call me Koutarou?”
Akaashi blinked up at him, and for a moment, Bokuto wondered if he’d overstepped. But then Akaashi’s lips curved into another small, tender smile.
“Koutarou,” he said softly, the name slipping from his lips like it had always belonged there. Bokuto’s heart soared, and he had to physically restrain himself from throwing his arms around Akaashi in pure excitement. Koutarou. It sounded so different coming from Akaashi. More special. More important.
They stared at each other for a beat, the silence between them thick with emotion. There was nothing more to say, nothing more they needed to explain. They had already said everything that mattered.
Akaashi—or, Keiji now—settled back into Bokuto’s chest, and Bokuto—or Koutarou now—wrapped an arm around him, holding him close. They were quiet for a long moment, the room dimly lit by the moon outside the window. The warmth of their bodies pressed together made the small room feel cozier, more intimate.
“Goodnight, Koutarou,” Keiji whispered, his voice soft against Koutarou's chest, sending a pleasant shiver down Koutarou's spine.
Koutarou grinned wide, his heart nearly vibrating with happiness as he whispered back, “Goodnight, Keiji.”
With that, the two of them finally let sleep pull them under, the quiet hum of their breaths filling the room, together.