If only he still knew how to make him happy, if only he still had a big enough smile contagious enough to get to Bokuto and spread to his whole team.
But with the volleyball season running through his head, the cycle of stamina that kept him on his feet and on his last breath has long been snapped apart and it's been hard to pick up the ball without wanting to fall back and just calmly observe everything. Akaashi was tired of standing out on a court, having attention, being depended on. He blended into trees and walls much easier now, he watched the sky with a calmer heart, not caring about conquering it.
Yet there was one thing that made everything he thought was good not feel worth it anymore— Bokuto, put simply.
At first Akaashi was frustrated at his frustration. He wanted to find other ways to make him less restless and worried about him even though all he wanted was a break from volleyball. From sports. Interaction. Life.
He even grew tired of explaining that as well, and of caring. Of simply looking people in the eyes.
Akaashi didn't realize how scary his situation was until he finally looked into someone's face, until he looked in the mirror and saw just how tired he was. How boring the phrases were that poured from his mouth, how he seemed to just carry heavy punctuation like he wanted to end sentences before they even started, how observing turned into staring at walls.
How time went so slow and this only lasted a week but it felt like he was trapped in his own body like a cell for months and years and decades and centuries and eons and it wouldn't stop eventually there was no periods or questionmarks the sentences ran on and on and on till he went insane and
He wished that he could be useful again, he already felt his muscles atrophied even if it wasn't that long. He missed big pats on the back and eyes on him and looking down at scared opponents and smiles, but his bed is so soft and his eyes are already closing.
—
Bokuto was tired too, of just standing by in the middle of hell that Akaashi was drowning in.
He kept trying and trying to talk to him and cheer him up but it took way too many tries for Bokuto to realize that he was shit at using words.
After a long-short day in a warm-cold place in the big-cramped school, the day was filled with mediums and averages but Akaashi was still a point blank period. With the bright shine, the exclamation point that was himself, Bokuto— he believed that he could balance out Akaashi's darkness and even if he couldn't make him all the way happy, this was a start.
What do you mean that's not how it works?
It started with an awkward hug and went up from there. Akaashi forced a smile, and later did not have to force them anymore.
———
lets just pretend it took FOUR YEARS for me to write a boring oneshot that ended way too soon
but i'm back, i'm black, i love tsukishima kei and i'm back on my haikyuu bullshit. lemme know if i should try new shit
