Whatever Bokuto writes shows up on his soulmates arm. An arm that belongs to Akaashi Keiji.
A bokuaka, kuroken, bokuroo fic.
Written: 2019-2020
Cover art: @almangods
"Love you back. Not get your ass over here" Akaashi cut him off sharply.
"Aww, you're such a good friend. Bye bye" he sung, and then the line went silent.
Konoha was a nice friend. Akaashi didn't have many friends as they had to be throughly checked out and approved by his mother first.
He had been sweet and charming, getting the thumbs up, and once they were alone, he turned sneaky and anything but the goody two shoes act he displayed for his parents.
But thank god for Konoha, because if it weren't for him being so insistent on being Akaashis friend, he'd probably have none at all.
All of his friends came along with Konoha, and although he had never thanked him out loud, both of them knew how grateful he really was deep down.
Hesitantly, he looked down to his arm, and then to the pen lying on the coffee table. Sitting down on the floor, he reached for it and put it to his skin.
He wasn't one to disobey his parents for the most part, but this... he didn't see a problem with breaking it. What was so wrong with reaching out? How was his soul mate even going to know he existed if he didn't give them something to remember.
With a few flicks of his pen, he drew out the delicate petals of a flower, neat and tidy.
Deze afbeelding leeft onze inhoudsrichtlijnen niet na. Verwijder de afbeelding of upload een andere om verder te gaan met publiceren.
A blooming daffodil. He finished it with licks of detail and shading.
It wasn't too bad for just a pen, and he ended up smiling as he sat down the pen and reached for his one to take a picture.
It was only a few minutes before he felt something crawl up his arm next to the fastidiously drawn flower.
The words "Was it your birthday recently?' popped up in sloppy large handwriting.
He could already sense what type of person was on the other line of this magic. They were childish, perhaps playful with large round letters. But not everything can be interpreted from just a writing style.
Amazing, Akaashi thought, as his skin prickled with the newfound letters.
Immediately he decided to write back. He wouldn't let this opportunity slip.
