Marked (BokuAka)

61. An Unhappy Meeting

Akaashi's POV (Day 25, morning):

Akaashi muttered to himself, glancing at the door nervously. His mother hadn't returned yet. It'd been ten days since Bokuto's... episode, and he still wasn't doing well. He wouldn't eat unless forced, never got out of bed, and he didn't even talk. But Akaashi couldn't check on him, couldn't make sure his soulmate was okay because...

If I check on him again, she'll get suspicious. 'She' being his mom. The only reason he knew of Bokuto's condition was small conversations between guards. So Akaashi was now reduced to nervous chewing of his nails, perhaps a habit his cuticles would never forgive him for.

The days after Bokuto's episode were torturous. His mother would study him for lengthy periods of time, without even a twitch of her lip to indicate what she was thinking. And with the note written on the small, purple slip of paper she'd sent him... well, he suspected that today wouldn't be pleasant.

"Dearest Keiji,

I have a gift for you, one that will settle your persistent questions. I will deliver it at breakfast. Don't be late.

With love,

Mom."

The idea of his mom referring to him as 'Keiji' whilst she emotionally tormented his soulmate was horrific and unthinkable. But soon, they'd be out of here.

Don't be late. Akaashi stood and ambled out of the room, acting as if he had not a care in the world. As if all these trifling matters were beneath him. He was the spoiled, yet promising, brat, an annoyance yet an asset.

"Hello," Akaashi drawled, not deigning to look at the guards. "I need to see my mother in the dining room." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the guards roll his eyes and the other nod. They both knew Akaashi was perfectly capable of walking there himself. But it was during these elevator times he could hear small snippets of Bokuto's condition and, at least he hoped, could become friends with these people. But with his attitude, that didn't seem to be a very likely possibility. This planning was much more difficult than volleyball. At least in volleyball, there were some rules. Here...

Death could be lurking, someone could switch sides. Penalties aren't going to work, not in real life. Not until you can bring proof. But maybe if I talk to these people, I can find some.

And he thought volleyball was difficult. After this, he'd never complain again. If we can get out of here. "So, Akaashi," One guard said, blandly, ready to make small talk. Actually, please don't. Not interested. However, the guard continued. "How are you liking it here?"

Akaashi forced a small smile, lips stretched garishly over his gritted teeth. "I actually really enjoy it. I am starting to understand how poor the concept of soulmates is." He laughed, more like a high-pitched chuckle. "However, I haven't had my hair cut in quite a while."

The guard nodded. "Yeah, it was a bit long when you got here, but now it's gotten a bit out of control." She laughed, good-naturedly, and Akaashi couldn't help but want to be friends with her. At least a little bit. Her partner smiled as well, tossing her hair out of her eyes.

"Yeah, it's at the point of falling into your eyes, Akaashi-san. I have a similar length, and I don't mind it, but I've had hair like this forever. Do you like the length?"

Akaashi shook his head but remained focused on the honorific used. She used '-san', like his mother. He was now at a more elevated rank than just a young boy to these adults, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy at least a little bit.

The elevator beeped, and Akaashi began to leave before turning back to the two guards. "I'll see you later?"

"Of course!" They chorused, shutting the doors and leaving him alone in the hallways. Akaashi turned towards the dining room door and opened it, faced with two people.

"Hiya, Keiji." His mother called out, gesturing for him to come closer. "Don't be nervous. This is Akane Hironori, Akane Mei's father."

Akaashi eyed the man. He was the interrogator. He was the one who yelled at Washio. "Well, Akaashi-kun?" Akaashi stiffened, uncomfortable with this man referring to him with such a term. They were not close, and Akaashi was not of a lower status. If anything, this scum of the Earth should refer to him as a higher status, not the other way around. "I don't bite. Your mother noticed your... curiosity in Mei, so she thought it best to bring me here, to talk about her."

"You don't even deserve to refer to them," Akaashi whispered, but his voice was too low. He wasn't Bokuto. He couldn't call someone out as he could, couldn't yell in the passionate way Bokuto did on that rainy day. "Fine. I'll listen." He answered, louder, but he sat as far from the man as he could. Even his mother was better.