Akaashi's POV (Day 7, Lunch Break):
No way. She wouldn't... right?
Yeah, Bokuto was just mistaken. "What?"
"Look, remember the girl?" Bokuto's eyes were wild, wide and almost unhinged. As if the words were flooding out of his mouth under someone else's possession. "That was your mother. She's a parent and knows the layout of the school. She could get in with excuses like needing to ask a question or see you. I don't think she was the sole perpetrator or even the actual murderer, but she was involved. She is a part of their organization. I needed to ask you first. What do you want to do? Do you want to wait? Tell the others? Tell the police now? Or find more proof?"
He's wrong. He's wrong, he's wrong, he's wrong! Why would you hurt me like this, Bokuto? Is this some absurd thing you do? Do you find pleasure in kissing me and then hurting me so? Right in the back, with a rusty blade of horrible, strung-together letters?
"Bokuto..." I guess I'll entertain this, but if you are pulling my leg... well, you're a sick human being if you are. "You are asking me whether I want to help the police arrest my mother now or later? What am I supposed to say? Should I provide an answer?" Bokuto's expression morphed into one of anguish, an emotion not easily faced. He might have to confront the possibility that Bokuto wasn't tricking him, or leading him on. He might have to face the idea that... my mother might be a murderer.
His head filled with screams and horrid sounds like nails on chalkboards. He couldn't focus... he couldn't breathe.
"Yes, I know. Or, rather, I don't. And I never will." Bokuto tilted his head, eyes big and pleading. He's probably pitying me. Akaashi swallowed back a snarl, mouth puckering at the sour taste of it. "But you will save lives, possibly topple a huge murder club. And you always have a place at my house."
Akaashi collapsed in on himself, tears finally lining his eyes and trickling down his cheeks. He smacked his leg with a closed hand, coughing with each hit. Sturdy, warm arms embraced him, holding him tightly, expectantly.
"I can't believe," He hiccupped, the sound turning into a wet cough. "That I thought you were bringing me up here to make out, and it turned into you telling me about my murderous mother." Akaashi tried for a laugh, but even he heard the pathetic gasp at the end of it. He wanted Bokuto to laugh; he needed to lighten the suffocating mood, but Bokuto just grasped him tighter at the end of his attempt at a joke.
I know her; or, if this is right, knew her. Is there anything I've seen that proves this theory?
Yes. The nightly scrutinizations of his skin, the nights without food when there was a marking that he hadn't noticed. The rants about soulmates, the anger at them. All the clues were there. The question is...
How did I not notice? Despair curled around his heart, crushing it, painfully.
Well, the human mind is an incredible thing. It can turn away from certain things and refuse to see facts straight in front of it.
Motive? Dad was abusive, mainly towards her since she was the easiest person to hurt, especially since they were soulmates. It's often excused. The only way she found a way out was when he died. Mom probably thinks that she's saving other people from that fate and giving them a pathway to choose their soulmates.
He couldn't cry, not anymore. There were FAR too many tears shed in the past seven days, and they still needed to figure out what to do at this point. There wasn't time for this.
"Bokuto–" Akaashi's voice came out muffled, covered by the other's jacket. He yanked himself out of Bokuto's arms, sitting back on his heels. "Look, we need to figure out what to do now. We can't go to the police immediately, there isn't enough proof. But, let's talk it over with Sarukui, Konoha, and, of course, Washio."
"So... you want to tell them? Or me?"
"You figured it out. But explain why you told me first when you're telling them about her."
Bokuto gave a curt nod, helping Akaashi up. He smiled. "Don't you worry, 'Kashi. We can make out another time."
Akaashi let out a snort. "Of course. I'll be taking you up on that offer, but maybe later." He returned a sly grin of his own, getting Bokuto to giggle.
"Let's go, sweet soulmate of mine."
"Oh, you shut it." How did Bokuto erase and ease his sorrow so effortlessly?
YOU ARE READING
Marked (BokuAka)
RomanceBokuto never thought he had a soulmate, and he was okay with it. Well, he was mostly okay with it. Like, 50% okay. He didn't mind that no markings would ever grace his skin, and no perfect person was coming his way. But, ever since he saw the pretty...
