"It's life that matters, nothing but life– the process of discovering, the everlasting and perpetual process, not the discovery itself, at all."
Fyodor DostoyevskyAkaashi did not enjoy visiting Mei's apartment to pick up manuscript drafts. He also, did not enjoy the fact that her living room had become their meeting place.
He also hated that, for some reason, the tea she prepared for him during their meetings tasted significantly better than what he would make himself at home.
He especially disliked Fyodor. Not really, but Akaashi had concluded that watching Mei snuggle a cat did too good of a job of transporting him back to high school. Therefore, he hated it.
And yet, there he was, on another Friday morning. Standing in Mei's living room once again.
Fyodor let out a soft meow as he went to greet him, rubbing his side against Akaashi's calves before curling into a ball right on his feet.
Maybe visiting Mei's home isn't so bad.
"Yeah, I'll be honest with you, Mr. Editor." Mei began, her voice low and tired. "I didn't write at all this week."
I take that back. It is horrible having to visit Mei's home.
"You didn't even need to write a novel or anything. Just a synopsis of your already published novel, so we can publicize it better."
"See, I realize that. But I didn't feel like it. Fyodor was just so snuggly all week. And I can't write in cold weather." Mei explained jokingly, both hands occupied with large mugs until she set them on the coffee table.
Akaashi felt his patience drop, preparing to glare at her until the scent of the black tea she placed in front of him finally reached his nose.
"Deadlines exist for a reason, Mei. I think my boss wants to advertise your existing book and then hint at your fans that you're writing another."
"But I'm not writing another. Nothing major has even happened in my life lately."
A quiet sigh left Akaashi's mouth as he settled deeper into the couch, crossing one leg over the other and letting Fyodor rest on his lap.
"Moving back to where you grew up, after eight years away, isn't considered something major?" He asked with a quirked brow, letting the steam from his tea fog his glasses.
"Not really, considering the plot of my first book. Am I supposed to just write a whole full-length book on the moving process? I mean, it sucks and it feels much longer than it really is, but it's not book worthy."
"What was the inspiration for your first book anyway?"
God, he hoped he sounded casual.
He had been dying to ask that question since their first editor-author meeting, since the first time he saw her again.
He had spent hours reading and annotating that book the night before, and he couldn't shake his thoughts from the eerie similarities he shared with it.
Of course, when he discovered that the author had been Mei instead of some wise old man, he became 1) too scared to ask why the book's character was scarily similar to him, and 2) too pissed off to do anything but formulate a plan to piss her off just as much.
"Oh, that's a good question." Mei smiled stiffly, raising her mug of iced coffee to her lips and taking a long, slow sip before setting the mug back down on the coffee table.
"I don't really wanna answer, but for the most part, high school. When I moved to Hokkaido and started school there, things were different, and there were a whole bunch of people I missed that I didn't really think I would end up missing at the time."

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words | akaashi keiji
Fanfictionthird year akaashi befriends a girl who reminds him of what he's lost, but she's got reasons of her own. akaashi x fem!oc COMPLETED