"Hey, Akaashi?"
"Hm?"
"When do you think it will snow?"
"I don't know... Snow falls at random."
"Yeah, but... Do... You think it will snow soon? Or maybe January?"
"I hope so. That would be nice. Tokyo needs a little more snow now and then."
"Yeah... Yeah. When it falls, I want to go out and stand in it."
Akaashi sat cross legged in the seat adjacent to Bokuto's bed. He looked up at the sickly one when he'd said those words, trying to meet his gaze, but ultimately finding no yellow eyes to look into. Bokuto had his head turned away.
He was staring outside at the white clouds that shrouded the skies, mesmerized by just how colorless it made everything seem. It was one of those "White days", as Bokuto liked to call them, so he paid much more attention to the world beyond the glass than he did to his own confined life in the hospital. Bokuto breathed in deeply, the sound filling the small space around them. The bedsheets crumpled beneath his hands.
"Are you sure you should be going out in the cold like that?"
"I think I can handle it."
Akaashi didn't want to bring up the fact that Bokuto probably would no longer possess the ability to walk by the time any snow did get a chance to fall, so he kept his mouth shut. He rubbed his hands together weakly and tilted his head to the side.
"I guess you can... Just as long as you're feeling better."
Bokuto scoffed. It was a quiet sound.
"I am. Stop asking already. That was six days ago."
"I know, but it was bad."
"It passed." Bokuto turned his head, the pillow crumpling under his neck. He looked at Akaashi with heavy lidded eyes. He was extremely pale, and somehow thinner than before, but he kept that same smile on his face. "I'm fine now."
Akaashi couldn't help but smile back at him. He leaned his chin against the palm of his hand and chortled.
"Or at least as fine as you can get."
Bokuto stared at Akaashi sharply. His lips quivered before he could form his words.
"Sh...ut up." A stronger laugh broke out from him, rattling his body as he lay down in bed. "I look... Like shit, I know."
Akaashi found himself laughing along with him. His quiet chuckle was louder than Bokuto's wholehearted laugh.
"You don't. You don't look like shit." He tried to hide his grin with his hand, but it was still visible from the gaps between his fingers.
Bokuto reached a hand out, aimlessly trying to swat Akaashi's own hand away. He tried to aim for it at the very least, but found it difficult to. Still, he continued.
"Don't cover that."
"Cover what?"
"Your smile."
"Why? It isn't anything spe-"
"I barely ever see it." Bokuto's fingers touched at Akaashi's knuckles. That was enough for Akaashi to remove his hand from in front his mouth slowly, moving it to rest it over his chin. He smiled down at him.
Bokuto's eyes stared forward with an engrossed gaze, his yellow hues taking a mental picture of what he probably would never see again. Many words dashed through his mind, but he could only think of three that would be best for him to say to Akaashi. He tried to open his mouth to say them, but he performed another action instead. Unconsciously, his hand grasped Akaashi's own, and he dragged it down with his lack of strength, causing both of them to startle. Bokuto's eyes widened.
"I- I thought you would... Hold it up-"
"It was sudden." Akaashi stifled a laugh. "It caught me off guard."
"I didn't mean... To..."
"It's alright." He smoothed his thumb over Bokuto's knuckles. "I'm... Holding it now."
Silently and almost in fascination, Bokuto stared at Akaashi once again, longer this time before he looked up, then down, then away. He turned his head towards the window, away from Akaashi. He couldn't face him.
Pursing his lips timidly, Akaashi ceased to speak. He studied the back of Bokuto's head, eying the messy strands of black and white hair that overlapped each other. His green eyes then fell to study his paling skin; his veins were easily noticeable now, and they bulged from beneath his flesh whenever he moved. Akaashi's eyes lowered, focusing on the arm that was attached to the hand that he was holding.
He studied the small needle that was lodged into Bokuto's forearm, eyed the thin tube that was attached to this, and followed it up to the bag of IV fluid that hung above his head.
Whatever was left of Akaashi's smile faded.
Ever since Bokuto's last panic attack, it had suddenly become more difficult for him to control his words, movements, and actions altogether. Such a task as easy as swallowing was now a problem for Bokuto, too, and after many failed attempts at keeping his food down, or getting it to go down in the first place, the nurses found it would be best if Bokuto received nourishment the only other way possible, and that was through a tube.
Over the span of the six days, Akaashi found that the only things Bokuto could manage to swallow were small snacks, like grapes, ice cubes, and Pocky Sticks that were specifically strawberry flavored. Other than those things, Bokuto found it nearly impossible to stomach anything else. His only other choice was to lie there and accept whatever it was the IV liquid had to offer him.
Looking back to Bokuto, he was relieved to see that he still had his attention on the window. At some time while Akaashi was spacing out, the blue blanket that surrounded Bokuto had been pulled up just below his chin, with only his arm hanging out to hold onto Akaashi's hand. Bokuto's breathing was quiet, and his hand never really remained still for a long time. It would shake every so often, and each time it did, Akaashi would squeeze lightly in response. This was their unspoken communication.
It was Akaashi's way of letting Bokuto know that everything would be alright, and this would always comfort him, no matter the situation they were in.
They both found it easier to believe in that lie than to accept the truth of what was to come.
On the numbingly cold day that was January 3rd, at 8:04 PM, snow had fallen for the first time that year. Bokuto was the first to notice this, but had also been the last to say anything about it.
It wasn't until Akaashi looked up from his laptop screen that he realized it was snowing heavily outside. His eyes lit up, intent on informing Bokuto, but when he turned his head to get a look at him, instead of being greeted by an over enthusiastic friend, he was presented with an unfazed expression upon Bokuto's weary face.
Akaashi frowned.
"Bokuto? Don't you see it?"
Looking up from the laptop screen, Bokuto directed his attention to Akaashi.
"Wh...?"
"The snow? It's snowing outside."
Bokuto turned his head to catch another look out the window. Surely enough, snow was falling, and in chunks too, but this did not grasp Bokuto's attention. Frankly speaking, it had no affect on him in the slightest. He managed a feeble shrug and turned to continue on with the movie that he'd watched for the thirtieth time already.
Akaashi was genuinely confused.
"I thought you were waiting for the snow. I thought it was what you wanted..."
His eyelids drooping and then snapping open again, Bokuto made a small sound.
"Mnh-... I... See it... All the t-ime."
Just then, Akaashi's lips parted in realization. Bokuto's hallucinations had become such a part of him, that he thought the snow outside was just another mind trick. He breathed in sharply.
"It's not a hallucination, Bokuto. It's actually snowing."
"..." Bokuto looked up to stare out the window again. There was a longing in his eyes that Akaashi couldn't stand to see. With barely an ounce of strength left, Bokuto pulled himself up a tad to get a better look outside. Curiosity had sparked within him. He wanted to know if it was real or not. He hated how difficult it had become for him to tell apart the real things from the fake ones.
"I'll show you." Akaashi stood from his seat and walked to the windowsill. There, he parted the glass slightly. A gust of icy wind charged its way into the room in an instant, draining the warmth from everything it touched.
Bokuto's skin crawled, goose bumps pimpling his porcelain surface. He pulled the thick blanket over himself with much effort.
Swiftly, Akaashi closed the window, having gathered just enough snow off the edge for him to show to Bokuto. He strode to him quickly, cupping the already melting snow in his hands. Bokuto held out his own, eager to see if it were true.
"See, look." Akaashi placed the small, white compressed lump of snow into Bokuto's palm. This earned a gasp from him. Bokuto stared down at the white clump of melting ice, and with one finger, he pressed against it to watch it fall apart. The tiny snowflakes deteriorated in the warmth of his palm, leaving a small puddle behind.
A gasp escaped Bokuto. His eyes widened as much as they could.
"Akaashi!"
"I know."
"Take me... Outside!"
"It's freezing." Akaashi murmured the words and looked Bokuto up and down. He was nothing more than a blanket with a head. "You tremble when it's seventy degrees in the room. Right now, it's about... Ten degrees outside."
"Please, Akaashi."
Pressing his lips into a thin slab of a line, Akaashi shook his head once more. He found it much too difficult to say no to Bokuto, but it had to be done.
"I can't..."
"But why?" Bokuto's spirits fell, his frown deep.
"That weather will only hurt you. You need to be protected."
"F-from... What?" Bokuto stared at Akaashi, his features having gone from disappointed to unaccepting.
Akaashi drew in a breath, but found that he couldn't say anything. He watched Bokuto with a wary gaze, unaware of what he was to say next.
"I'm already in... Death row. I can.. B-arely speak. I can bare-ly walk... I can't eat. I can't... Sl..eep. The l-last thing you..." He clenched his jaw, frustrated with himself and the words he spoke, "... You... Need to do.. Is worry about me... C-atching a... Cold."
"Bokuto."
"C... Cold or n-not... I'm still... Not going to last v-... Very long. So please... Let me have this."
His eyes were glued to Akaashi's, and Akaashi found that he was unable to look away. Bokuto's eyes said everything to him. He translated all that his words could not.
Akaashi looked down and away from Bokuto, then back to the window.
"... I think the window will be as far as we can go." He said in a hushed voice.
"That's... Fine with me." And just like that, a smile found Bokuto's face again.
Akaashi sighed to himself, frustrated with how easily he'd given in to Bokuto's begging. But as he thought of it, he figured he couldn't be blamed for it. He didn't want to be the one to say no to someone who had little to nothing left in his life.
There was that, and the fact that Akaashi couldn't help but find Bokuto's smile endearing, no matter how sickly he looked when he wore one.
"Come on..." Akaashi reached a hand out to help Bokuto to his feet. He urged him to keep the blanket around him, but Bokuto insisted that he leave it behind. He held onto the IV stand with one hand and Akaashi's hand with his other as he hobbled over to the window. Bokuto's hands were as cold as ice, causing Akaashi's concern in him to grow even more. But no matter how much he worried for him, Akaashi continued on their way to the window at a slow and steady pace until they finally made it.
Once there, Bokuto pulled his hand from Akaashi's and leaned it against the windowsill. The air was bitter and cold, and it hit Bokuto like a slap to the face as another gust of wind forced its way into the hospital room. This did not faze him, however, as Bokuto only closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, allowing the burn of the winter air to fill his lungs. When he exhaled, a puff of smoke left him. Bokuto stuck his head out of the window slightly and kept it there as the snowflakes fell all around him.
"Don't do that." Akaashi pulled Bokuto back inside. He expected to hear a whine of resistance from him, but instead received nothing. Bokuto only complied and stuck his entire arm out instead, watching as each individual snowflake passed around his limb, as if none wanted to touch him. On occasion, one or two would land on him, and he would draw his hand in quickly to try and see if he could make out the small pattern on them. He would study them for quite a while until they melted and left behind nothing more than a droplet on his arm. After this, he would repeat the same process, paying little to no mind to the freezing cold that surrounded him.
Akaashi watched Bokuto, mesmerized by his actions. He almost portrayed the behaviors of a child, sticking to an activity and refusing to let it up, repeating whatever he was up to without having anyone to tell him to stop. Akaashi furrowed his brow and looked outside, away from Bokuto. That familiar feeling of dread was rising from deep within him, something Akaashi wanted to forget. He placed one hand on the windowsill and squeezed, his knuckles going white.
They shared another moment of silence, something that occurred more often than Akaashi would have liked. Though Bokuto's speaking skills weren't as good as they used to be, he was still the more talkative one out of the two. So whenever he went silent, an unwelcomed feeling of discomfort found its home within Akaashi. He wanted to rid himself of this feeling, rid himself of this silence, so he searched his mind in haste for any word that came to mind. He needed something – anything – to say to Bokuto, just so that he could liberate himself of the horrid feeling that threatened to overtake him.
"You know... I never asked." Akaashi managed to say, staring out into the distance. "Why are you so fond of the snow, Bokuto?"
He waited for an answer, but did not receive one. Unnerved, he spoke up again.
"I mean, in your state now, it's a bit clichéd, don't you think?" It was his attempt at brightening the mood, or "being funny," as some called it, but alas, his words had fallen flat on the ground as he received another silent reply from Bokuto. Akaashi frowned deeply. He turned his head to get a clear look at Bokuto's face, but instantly wished he hadn't.
In his silence, Bokuto wept to himself, fat tears rolling down his cheeks in numbers. The hand that supported his weight against the windowsill trembled without pause, and his other remained outside, shaking in the cold dead of night. Several flakes had gathered on the outstretched limb, but they were not quick to melt. They settled there, deeming Bokuto one of them for the remainder of their frozen lives before they eventually melted or fell away.
Akaashi stared at Bokuto, opened his mouth to say something, but found that he couldn't form even one simple word. Realizing this, Akaashi decided to take action instead and reach out to comfort him, but not even this he could do. His arms and legs were stiff, as were his eyes. All he could do was stare at the melancholic performance that played out before him.
Do something... Akaashi closed his mouth and swallowed.
Do something... Anything .
Akaashi's body didn't respond.
He could only watch as those tears fell at a faster pace, down onto his hospital gown and onto the floor. The light that came from outside reflected off of Bokuto's teardrops, lighting his face up in the most gentle of ways. Eventually, Bokuto drew back his hand and let it fall to his side. He hung his head and tried to keep his crying controlled in the best way possible, but this proved to be very difficult as sobs broke out of him, causing his entire being to shake.
After a moment of trying to gather himself, Bokuto choked out two simple words with quivering lips.
"Why... me..?"
Akaashi stared on as his mind searched for words. He found some and said them without a second thought.
"Because life is unfair."
Bokuto reached up a cold, frail hand to wipe at the mess that was his face. "I w...anted to do s-so many things..."
"I know." Akaashi balled his hand into a fist, mentally scolding himself for the present lack of emotion in his voice.
As Bokuto backed away from the window, Akaashi was quick to close it, locking the bitter night air out of the room for the remainder of the night. He then reached out and took hold of Bokuto's arm to help him back to the bed.
Once they'd reached it, Bokuto resumed his usual position and wrapped the thick blanket around himself, then turned away from Akaashi. He watched the window quietly, paying no mind to his visitor, or so Akaashi thought. In a matter of minutes, just as Akaashi had started to fidget, Bokuto spoke up.
"Akaashi..."
"Yes?" His undivided attention was on Bokuto.
He hesitated for a moment, but finally spoke up. "I don't want you to visit me anymore."
Akaashi's eyes squinted to the words, and he leaned forward in shock. "What?"
"Please... Don't visit me... Anymore."
"No." Akaashi stood from his seat.
"Please-"
"No. It's a little too late for that, Bokuto." A shiver racked Akaashi, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand.
"Akaashi, please..."
"No is my final answer." He stalked over to the other side of the bed, where he would be able to look at Bokuto's face. Once Bokuto noticed this, he turned his head and slowly rolled away. Akaashi's eyes widened, his emotions now falling victim to a strange mix of fear and fury.
"Bokuto, what is the meaning of this?"
Bokuto didn't respond. He remained in the same position and only moved his hand to wipe at his face again.
"Answer me."
Sucking his teeth, Bokuto pulled the blanket up to just beneath his chin. It took some time, but he finally answered.
"I don't want you... to grow... any m-more attached to me th-than y-you already are."
Akaashi nearly scoffed. "What makes you think I'm attached to you? I never said that I was."
This time, Bokuto directed his attention to Akaashi. He wore a grimace upon his reddened face.
"Sh-shut up, Akaashi..." He breathed in deeply, frustrated with himself and the gradual growth of his speech impediment, but continued on. "I know... You hate hosp-itals. Don't... Come telling m-me now that you... Have only been... coming here every day because y-you wanted to."
Akaashi had nothing else to say. He stared at Bokuto with his lips parted, as if he were going to speak, but ended up speechless.
"I know that... You care... Ev-... Even if it's just a little bit." Bokuto covered his mouth and coughed suddenly. He found that speaking was taking much more energy than he thought. Still, he continued to talk. "I don't... Know much about this... Disease. Partly be-...cause I was too afraid to read up on it. But... I know I don't have... much time left." His frustration slowly faded, and all that was left behind upon his pale face was a look of defeat.
"One, maybe two months at most, if I'm lucky. That's... How long I know I have... Left."
The air around Akaashi thickened, and suddenly he found it difficult to breathe.
Bokuto looked down and twisted his lips to the side. "I heard the doctors talking. They d...on't know how to... H-heal me, so..." From beneath the blanket, Akaashi could see Bokuto's shoulders rise and fall. "It's just... A slow, downhill ride f-f...rom here. And I d-don't want you to... See it all h-hap...pen."
Bokuto lay there glass-eyed, his welled up tears glinting in the dim lighting of the room.
"I don't... Want you to... Watch me decay."
Small tears spilled out of Bokuto's eyes and rolled down his hauntingly placid features. "So I figured if you left now... You... Wouldn't have to... And it wouldn't h-hurt so much..."
Once again, that crippling spell took hold of him, and Akaashi couldn't move, nor could he speak. All he could do was watch in muted anguish as Bokuto finally accepted what had become of his short lived life. Akaashi realized that those smiles he'd seen before were smiles of denial – forced grins that tried desperately to trick Bokuto into thinking that everything would be fine. But he couldn't keep it up forever. Not in the state that he was in. Bokuto had always been struggling to keep a positive front, but inside, he was falling apart all along.
Akaashi knew this now.
In an attempt to move, he tapped his fingers against his legs at an impatient pace. He was trying everything he could to psych himself into doing at least something to let Bokuto know that he was there for him.
Do something... As if he were one of the living dead, Akaashi forced one leg forward, then the next, until he was touching the bed side. He pushed his negative thoughts aside and sat himself down in bed, right next to Bokuto. Akaashi did not give him time to react to this as he moved closer still, and when he was close enough, he lowered his head to lean it on Bokuto's shoulder.
Akaashi squeezed his hands together to keep them from shaking uncontrollably.
"I'm not leaving, Koutarou." His voice was hushed, gentle. "And nothing you say will make me leave."
Bokuto kept silent. Not a word left him, even as he reached a hand up to wipe at his face again. He only sniffed on occasion, and shifted in place, but never did he say anything to oppose Akaashi's decision.
He was glad.
Akaashi turned his head slightly, his cheek gently resting on Bokuto's shoulder. He took in a slow, deep breath and closed his eyes, and his eyebrows knit together for only a second. His hands quivered as he dug his nails into his knuckles.
Bokuto no longer smelled like a hospital.
Bokuto smelled like... Home.
The reflection of ending movie credits could be seen in Akaashi's eyes as they scrolled up along the screen of his laptop.
Sitting back, he reached a hand out and paused the movie that'd been on screen.
"So, how was it, watching the movie for the thousandth time?" There was almost a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Lying next to Akaashi, a ghostly pale Bokuto smiled.
"...Good..." Bokuto eased back and buried his head into his pillow. He looked in Akaashi's direction. It took a moment for Bokuto to focus on him.
Pulling his laptop close, Akaashi smoothed his finger along the mouse pad. He looked to the lower right corner of the screen. January 19th, 6:40pm.
Akaashi pulled a solemn face and closed the laptop. He moved in his seat and sat straight against the head of the bed, then looked down at Bokuto.
His tired eyes were on Akaashi. He was grinning.
Forcing a smile of his own, Akaashi tilted his head only slightly.
"What are you smiling at?" He reached a hand out and touched Bokuto's forehead. He was cool to the touch – colder than most. Akaashi was quick to withdraw his hand, but he managed it discretely.
It took a moment for Bokuto to respond, but after some time, he managed some words.
"... Thank you..."
"Don't worry about it." A sheepish grin curled Akaashi's lips. "I know you're fond of that movie." He looked down at Bokuto as he said this, and glanced away soon after. Something told him that those words weren't meant for the movie, but Akaashi shoved this thought away.
He twisted his body to reach for the box of Pocky that sat on the counter. He opened it and pulled one out.
"Do you want one?"
Bokuto nodded and stretched a wobbling arm out. Akaashi placed it in between his fingers, and Bokuto retracted his hand to hold the biscuit snack against himself. He held it to his nose with some difficulty and breathed in the strawberry scent, then let his arm fall. He touched at it lightly, twirled it shakily between his fingers, and studied it, but he never ate it.
Akaashi placed the box back onto the counter and huffed softly.
"You seem to have grown more attached to that Pocky stick than me..."
Bokuto looked up, surprised, and glanced back down at the snack in his hands. It took time for Akaashi's words to reach him, but when they finally did, his face lit up as he broke out in laughter.
It was the weakest sound Akaashi had ever heard.
"Ah, I've finally said something funny." Akaashi chuckled with Bokuto, folding his arms in the process. "I told you I had my moments every so often."
Bokuto's laughter died down and he closed his eyes.
"R...arely..."
"Give me a break here." Akaashi's chortling had been dragged out for a few seconds longer before he, too, quieted down.
They remained speechless in each other's company for several minutes before Bokuto actually spoke up, his voice sounding like nothing more than a mere whisper.
"Keiji..."
Akaashi looked at him.
"M-hm?"
Bokuto swallowed thickly and toyed with the Pocky in his hand.
"Ask... M-me w... Why I like... Cloud Atlas so much."
Perplexed, Akaashi directed his full attention to Bokuto.
"Well alright... Koutarou, why do you like Cloud Atlas so much?" He watched Bokuto intently, curious to know what his answer would be.
Looking up at Akaashi with eager eyes, as if he'd been asked the question out of his own free will, Bokuto gladly answered.
"S... So you... Know in the m-movie when... Th... Characters die in one life...?" He kept his weary yellow eyes on Akaashi, waiting for him to nod. Once he did, Bokuto continued. "W-well... I... Like it when... Th-they find each other again... In another life."
Bokuto's voice was soft, measly, and carried no force to it. But as he spoke about his favorite scene, Akaashi could sense a powerful vibe coming from him... One that wasn't there before.
A hopeful one.
"It m-makes me... Feel like I'll h-have another life... One beyond this one... One that's better... Wh.. Where I can actually wake up to you... and be with y... you..." A smile played on his pale, thin lips. "One where we... Can... Live n...normal lives instead of... Living... This one."
Akaashi couldn't find any words to say at that moment. He stared at Bokuto and could only nod with whatever it was he thought he was agreeing with. He felt as if all the air had been squeezed out of his body by the words that Bokuto had spoken.
Of all the things that Bokuto found most endearing of the movie, Akaashi never thought it would be that.
Managing a miserable smile, Akaashi roughly rubbed his palm with his thumb.
"You know... I would like that. Very much." He spoke gently in Bokuto's direction.
"Me too..." Bokuto's eyes never left Akaashi. He stared at him intently and watched every move he made, to the point where this had captured Akaashi's attention.
"Why do you watch me like that?" His emerald eyes met golden ones.
Though the question was asked clearly, Bokuto didn't make a sound, nor did he move. He instead continued to stare in Akaashi's direction with hopeful eyes.
After what felt like the longest ten seconds of his life, a sudden shudder charged down Akaashi's spine, causing goose bumps to rise on his flesh. He held his breath, then proceeded to ask again.
"Koutarou... Why do you watch me like that?" It took every fiber of his being to keep his voice from trembling.
It was then that Bokuto's eyes blinked in realization, and slowly but surely, he moved his lips to answer.
"Just... Because..." He replied in what almost sounded like a surprised tone. "I didn't... Want you to leave. Sometimes when I... blink... you aren't there anymore..." Bokuto rubbed one of his eyes, then the other, and let his hand drop to his sides.
Akaashi tried to hide his frown. His eyes looked down at Bokuto's hands. They were thin and bony, and he could see those smooth blue veins curling over the bones beneath his flesh.
He reached a hand out and took Bokuto's hand in his own.
Bokuto's automatic reaction to the warmth was to curl his fingers around Akaashi's grasp. He looked at him and exhaled through his nose quietly.
Akaashi met his gaze, then looked down.
"Don't worry. I'm still here."
Bokuto nodded feebly against his pillow.
"I'm still... Here too..." His voice was weaker than before, if possible.
Akaashi nodded, with him.
"Yeah. You're still here, too..."
With what little strength he had left, Bokuto beamed.
Akaashi wished he could do the same.
New Message!
From: Kuroo (Sent January 31st at 2:25 PM)
[Hey, are you there?]
Akaashi:
[Yes, I am.]
Kuroo:
[How are things?]
Akaashi:
[Things could be better. Things could be worse.]
Kuroo:
[May I ask how Bokuto is doing?]
Akaashi:
[He's... Hanging on.]
Kuroo:
[Can he still walk? Or talk?]
Akaashi:
[No, he can't. He lost the ability to walk a little more than a week ago. His ability to speak left him soon after.]
Kuroo:
[I see. You really are straightforward, aren't you?]
Akaashi:
[I don't know any other way to put it. Sorry.]
Akaashi looked up from his phone after sending the message and turned his head to notice that Bokuto was once again staring at him with acute interest.
His eyes read, "Who's that?"
Stuffing his phone in his pocket, Akaashi shrugged.
"Just... Kuroo." He said the name with a lack of interest to try and soften the blow, but Akaashi knew that no matter how he approached it, Bokuto would frown when he heard the name.
And he did.
Bokuto looked down at Akaashi's hand. His eyes gave away just how much he missed his friend. Feeling an amount of guilt build up within his chest, Akaashi pulled out his phone just as quickly as he'd hid it away.
"Would you like for him to send a photo?"
Bokuto looked back up and thought for a moment, then nodded.
Playing off of this, Akaashi texted for Kuroo to send an image of himself for Bokuto to see. It took quite some time for a message from Kuroo to arrive, but when it did, Akaashi realized that he'd sent a video instead of what was initially asked for.
Akaashi leaned over in his seat to move himself closer to Bokuto. With one elbow on the bed, he held his phone so that the both of them could see. Bokuto stared at the screen with interested eyes, wondering what the content would consist of. Akaashi pressed play, and a video of Kuroo started to play.
He sat at home in bed, with a snug fitting shirt on and his hair an absolute mess.
"What's up, guys? Ahhhh I know you didn't tell me to send a video, but, I'm not someone who follows rules." He pulled a mock cool expression, but this was cut short as someone else spoke up.
From the background of the video, a low voice could be heard.
"What? Did you just... Say that to yourself?"
"No- wow, no, I'm taking a video."
Kuroo panned the phone to his side, and a blurred Kenma came into focus on screen. He sat cross-legged, with a shirt on that was two sizes too big, and a hat that looked as if it had been placed on his head without his consent. His head was down and his fingers moved swiftly over the buttons on the gaming device that he held in his hands. At one point, he reached a hand up to grab the beanie off of his head, and he aimlessly chucked it to the ground with force.
"Say hi, Kenma."
"Wait, what? I didn't hear what you said..." Kenma looked up and was greeted with a front facing camera. He quickly got up from the bed and walked off. "Don't record me."
"At least say hi," Kuroo called.
"Hi." The disembodied voice came from off screen.
"And that's Kenma for you..." Kuroo groaned as he repositioned himself in bed, and then he smiled. "But putting him aside... I hope all is well. Um..." He scratched at his cheek, just below his eye. "I miss you guys. I miss you especially, Bokuto. Um... Hang in there, alright? Akaashi, don't give him a hard time, or you and I are going to fucking fight."
Bokuto smiled wide to those words. He would have laughed if he could.
A grin ghosted across Akaashi's lips as well, but it was quick to vanish.
"Well, I guess that's it for now. I would have Kenma say bye, too, but-" He turned his head to look around, "He left... the room...? Yeah, he left the room. So I'll just say bye for him! See you, Bokuto. Keep it cool. And remember, you're the best." He held his hand up in a "peace sign", and the video ended with him on screen.
Akaashi sighed. He thought the video had gone by too quickly, but it had actually lasted a little under thirty seconds.
"For a guy who's name is Kuroo, he sure is a colorful one." Akaashi sat up and placed his phone on the counter.
Bokuto nodded and looked up at Akaashi once again.
"You guys were best friends, huh...?"
Bokuto nodded once more. He struggled to raise a hand, and slowly he twirled his index finger in circles at the side of his head.
Akaashi snorted softly and leaned back in his seat.
"Is he crazy?"
The smile on Bokuto's lips grew just a little more, signifying that he'd answered yes to Akaashi's question.
It was moments like these that made Akaashi realize just how much of an innocent soul Bokuto really was. Every now and then, it would come to him that Bokuto was only twenty years old, and that fact would only weigh Akaashi down even more than it usually did. It hurt him to think that Bokuto had barely even experienced the joys of a young adult's life before that crippling disease had taken a hold of him. It was frustrating, it was infuriating, and it was overall saddening, but Akaashi could not show any of this. Not in front of Bokuto.
So instead of putting on a sour expression, Akaashi only kept a neutral one, like he always did. It was his best and only way to hide his pain.
Several hours had passed since the message from Kuroo, and both Bokuto and Akaashi didn't do much.
Without a voice, Bokuto couldn't keep up a conversation as well as he used to, no matter how hard he tried. And even if he could speak, he wouldn't have been able to talk for long considering the state he was in. His movements were uncoordinated and slow, and the only sounds he could manage were meek and most of the time inaudible. At times, Bokuto would do nothing but lie there in bed, twitching back awake whenever his body tried so desperately to fall into the sleeping state that it once knew. When this would happen, he'd pull a frustrated expression for only a moment before his face grew too tired to hold it any longer.
When Bokuto was like this, Akaashi would normally look away to spare himself the sight of it all. But on rare occasions, there were times when he'd have no choice but to watch Bokuto fall apart at the hands of his illness, and he hated it.
For every time Akaashi would witness this, his mind would repeat one phrase, whether he wanted to hear it or not.
This is what a dying person looks like.
Looking down swiftly, Akaashi's sights locked onto his hands. He glared at them intensely with that same placid expression of his, making this look all the more unnerving. He wanted the thought to leave his mind. He wanted nothing to do with it. He forced those words away and replaced them with new ones. Ones that said, He's not dying. He's going to be fine.
But as he thought of it, as he narrowed down the true meanings of both phrases, he ultimately could not decide which of the two were more horrifying.
Akaashi closed his eyes and heaved out a sigh, feeling more and more hopeless with each passing second. He feared he wouldn't be able to pull himself out of this state, but then it occurred to him that he was not alone in this.
He felt the gentlest of taps against his arm, and he turned his head to meet eyes that were as concerned as they were exhausted. Akaashi sat up straight and composed himself.
"I'm fine." He commented softly, leaning back in his seat. "How are you feeling, Koutarou?"
Bokuto blinked slowly. This was his way of saying he was feeling alright. Not great, but alright.
Akaashi pursed his lips and nodded once. He found himself unable to say anything else, figuring that Bokuto wouldn't have anything to say either, but he was wrong.
Again, he felt the light tapping against his arm. Surprised, Akaashi gave Bokuto his attention again.
"Hm? What is it?" He turned the chair so that he was now facing Bokuto from the front.
Gazing up at Akaashi, Bokuto frowned and tried to form some words, but failed in the end. He looked around and moved his fingers, trying to make out a phone. Akaashi picked this up quickly, and he pulled his phone out for Bokuto to use. He opened his notes application and held the device in front of Bokuto. It was then that he started to inaccurately press at words that he was trying to make out. It took him some time to get down what he wanted to say, but after several minutes, he withdrew his hand.
Akaashi looked at his phone to read the sentence. It read:
"If I knew those words I spoke a week ago would have been my last, I would have chosen them more carefully."
Akaashi stared intensely at the screen, then tore his gaze away and looked back to Bokuto.
"You weren't happy with those words?"
Slowly, Bokuto nodded.
"Well then, if you had a second chance..." Akaashi hesitated. He almost didn't want to ask the question. "What would you have chosen to say?"
Just as those words left Akaashi's mouth, the clouds outside parted, allowing the setting sun's orange light to flood into the room. It illuminated both Bokuto and Akaashi, and they squinted at the same time. Despite this, Akaashi did not miss the look of slight nervousness that claimed Bokuto's features.
He was now more curious than he'd ever been before.
"Um... Bokuto? You don't have to say it now if you don't want to."
Bokuto shook his head.
"So... You don't want to?"
He shook his head again, stronger this time.
"Ah, you do want to say it now."
This time, a weak sound left Bokuto's throat through a closed mouth, and he nodded.
"Alright." Akaashi shifted in his seat, now timid. He glanced to the side. "How many words are there? In what you want to say, I mean?"
Responding as slowly as ever, Bokuto raised one hand. On that one hand, three fingers stuck out.
Akaashi felt his heart sink to his stomach. Another shudder threatened to rattle him, but he kept himself still, as difficult as that was.
"Three words? That's all?" Akaashi forced a smile. They felt mandatory now. "That's interesting..."
Please... Please don't say them.
He reached his arm out and held his phone in front of Bokuto for him to type.
Please don't type them... I don't want to hear them. I don't want to read them. I don't want to know them.