Work Text:
“Thank you sir!”
Keiji straightened from his bow and looked to his left, eyes immediately meeting wide, energized gold ones.
“Akaashi, will you--”
“Yes, Bokuto-san.” The older boy smiled and ran off to retrieve a ball cart, and Keiji waved goodbye to some teammates as he made his way to the setter's position.
It was a given that he would stay after practice with Bokuto to work on spiking, but still, the energetic ace always asked Keiji if he was up for it.
And his answer was always yes.
“Only a month until nationals,” Bokuto mused as he jogged to his position, cart at his side as he took a ball from it. “There’s plenty of time to get better and better.”
“Right. Plenty of time.” Keiji watched Bokuto toss the ball high into the air, just as he liked it. He squared himself underneath and crouched down as the weight of the volleyball came into his hands. He jumped up, flicking his wrists and pushing the ball upwards into a perfect arc, leading Bokuto on for a killer spike.
The sound of his hand slapping the ball was loud, but the ball hitting the gym floor was louder. The completely empty gym allowed for the sound to reverberate for a bit as the ball bounced and eventually lost momentum, rolling lazily and stopping against the wall.
“Another one?” Keiji tore his gaze off the ball to see Bokuto back by the cart, a new ball already in his hands.
“Yeah.”
Toss, set, spike. Over and over. Each time Bokuto asked for another, Keiji always complied. He liked doing this just as much as the ace did, if not entirely for the same reasons.
Sure, Keiji loved volleyball. It was easily his favorite pastime, the way he wanted to spend his non-school-filled hours. But getting to play volleyball with Bokuto? That was the real kicker.
Bokuto’s energy and tenacity for life filled Keiji with something he had never felt before. He was, after all, the reason Keiji decided to come to Fukurodani. But after that initial starstruck period, when Keiji went from stranger to teammate to friend, he found more things about Bokuto to appreciate: his determination, his loyalty, his enthusiasm, his strength, his humor, his smile, his zest for life.
Bokuto was a special part of Keiji’s life, and he was something Keiji never wanted to lose.
“Akaashi!”
The volleyball landed on his head before he had time to register Bokuto’s voice calling out to him. He blinked and looked over at Bokuto, who was hiding his mouth behind his hand, obviously attempting to conceal laughter.
“Sorry, I zoned out.”
“Are you--” Bokuto had to stop to suppress a giggle. “Are you okay? That hit your head.”
“I’m fine, Bokuto-san. You can laugh. It was funny.” Despite the fact the cackling was at his misfortune, Keiji felt his chest warm at the sound of Bokuto’s loud laughter, his head thrown back and his shoulders bouncing as he did.
Keiji let himself chuckle. It had been a perfect toss, right above his head, allowing the ball to land exactly on the crown of his head. It couldn’t have been aimed better.
“Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop,” Bokuto wheezed, now bent over with his hands on his knees. With a sigh, he stood up to his full height, and Keiji had to stop himself from gasping just at the sight of Bokuto in his physical prime. “Should we stop? If you’re zoning out you must be tired.”
Keiji waved him off. “I’m fine, Bokuto-san. It was just for a moment. At least let’s do one more.”
Bokuto’s smile, wide and radiant, gleamed back at him. “Alright. One more!”
They did more than just one.
--------
After cleaning up the gym and locking it, Keiji walked side-by-side with Bokuto down the pathway, their arms brushing each other every now and then. Bokuto was humming to himself, some American song he had shown Keiji the other day and couldn’t seem to get out of his head.
Keiji looked up to the sky at the glittery stars above. There were only a few, but they were bright and twinkling.
“You know, I want to be a professional volleyball player.” Keiji looked to his right to see Bokuto now staring up at the sky, smiling at the visible stars and hidden galaxies above. “I want to play in college, and then as my job! I never wanna stop playing volleyball!”
Keiji smiled and returned his gaze upward, admiring the dark black sky with his friend. “I think you can do it. You are the fourth best ace in the country, afterall.”
“Oh--and I want to be number one! I wanna be the number one ace! That’s my goal this year! In addition to winning nationals!”
Bokuto’s confidence was coming off in waves, and Keiji had no choice but to admire it. He wasn’t nearly that confident in his talent. He constantly fell into the trap of comparing himself to others and finding little to no worth of his own skill.
But there was someone who always managed to snap him out of that.
“I’m surprised you’re not a top five setter or something, Akaashi. Your sets are the best! They’re my favorite.”
Keiji turned to look at Bokuto, hoping to sneak a glance at his friend, but the boy was now staring at him with his bright gold eyes. Even in the dark, they seemed to shine. He had a smile on his face, a little more subdued than the one he wore while playing. It was soft even though all his teeth were still showing.
“I--why thank you, Bokuto-san. But I don’t care about that. Not like you. I’m happy just to get to set for you.” He returned the smile, though his own was smaller.
Bokuto broke out into a bigger grin once Keiji said that, and he stopped walking so he could fully face Keiji. “Really? You mean that?”
Keiji halted too and nodded, adjusting the strap of his bag across his body. “Yes. You’re my favorite person to set to. Don’t tell Konoha.”
If possible, Bokuto’s smile got brighter. “I won’t, I won’t! I’ll keep it a secret!” He giggled a little to himself as he continued to stare at Keiji, eyes scanning over his whole face.
Keiji could stare at him for hours. Could follow every black and gray strand of hair, down to his forehead which was only ever creased with worry during one of his dejected moments; his gold eyes where the irises were dancing with energy; his distinguished nose and slightly chapped lips; his cheeks which were perpetually flushed from exerting himself in both practices and games. Everything about Bokuto was perfect to Keiji, not just his volleyball skills.
“We should go to the same college together so you can continue to set for me!”
The exclamation broke Keiji out of his reverie, and he blinked a few times before slowly nodding. “That would be fun. Although, I’m not sure if I want to play volleyball after high school.” It was something Keiji thought about occasionally, especially since he was soon to be a third-year when he would have to really consider university.
“What?! Akaashi! Why?!” Bokuto grabbed Keiji’s shoulders and shook him lightly, the happiness drained from his face and replaced with concern.
Still, Keiji smiled a little. “I want to focus on other things. I’ll always love volleyball, but it just won’t be the same if you’re not there.” The words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them. Keiji’s eyes widened and flicked up to Bokuto’s, and the older boy’s happiness seemed to be coming back.
“That’s why we should go to the same college, ‘Kasshi.” Bokuto let go of his shoulders and started to walk again, taking Keiji by surprise and causing him to jog for a second to catch up. “I don’t really want to play without you either, so we can try everything in our power to end up together, yeah?!”
The logic was simple, but both of them knew it wasn’t that easy. Unfortunately, nothing was ever that easy.
Keiji let silence overtake them as they finally made their way off school property. Bokuto resumed his humming, the same song as before, and Keiji steeled his nerves for what he was about to say.
“I’m really going to miss you next year, Bokuto-san.” The humming stopped, but they continued to walk forward. “I’ll carry the team along, I’ll make sure we do good. But I--I’m really going to miss setting for you. And,” and here Keiji lowered his voice a bit, “and I’m worried I won’t be as good a setter without you.”
Bokuto stopped his walking again and this time Keiji anticipated it. He stopped alongside the taller boy, but they didn’t face each other like before. Their shoulders were lightly pressed together, and Keiji had to swallow his fear.
“Akaashi, you’re an amazing setter as is. It doesn’t matter who you set to. You give Konoha and Sarukui and Washio and Onaga all the same amazing spikes you give me.” Now Bokuto turned, catching Keiji’s blue eyes with his own. “You’re the best setter ever, and you’re gonna be the best captain in the world!”
Bokuto said the words with such confidence that Keiji felt he had no choice but to believe them.
He cleared his throat awkwardly as he looked down at his feet, kicking a stone to the side. “Thanks, Bokuto-san. I--uh--I can’t wait to see you play for Japan.” He dared to look back up and found Bokuto’s eyes still glued on him. The intensity of his stare made him flush a little.
“And I can’t wait to see you win nationals next year! Of course, not without winning them with me this year!” Once again, the confidence was so resolute one wouldn’t dare argue with him.
Keiji smiled and nodded, letting out a small sigh. “Yeah. This year first, and then we can worry about next year.”
Bokuto bumped Keiji’s shoulder with his own before he started forward again, pumping his fists in the air and shouting, “One month until we win nationals!”
Keiji felt his heart clench as warmth took over his body, and he allowed himself a few milliseconds of admiration for the older boy before he followed behind, home just around the corner.
--------
Two days later, normal practice ran longer than anticipated. The team got caught up in a scrimmage against one another, the score of the last set going back and forth. By the time they finally finished, they were an hour over time.
That didn’t stop Keiji from saying yes to Bokuto for their routine nightly practice. Even if he was a bit exhausted from the scrimmage, nothing would have stopped Keiji from saying yes to some more time with Bokuto.
Despite his less than perfect sets, Bokuto still hit each one with such force and precision. Balls littered the other side of the court, some of them still rolling slowly with the momentum of Bokuto’s spikes.
“One more?” Bokuto tilted his head and held the ball out in front of him, gold eyes wide and pleading.
“Of course, Bokuto-san,” Keiji responded. He set the ball a bit too close to the net, but Bokuto slammed it down right on the other side, tight against the net. It bounced back up toward the ceiling and off to the side. Neither boy paid attention when it hit the wall and slowly made its way back toward them.
“One more?”
“Yeah.” For the first time since practice ended, Keiji felt like he made a decent set. Bokuto’s tongue stuck out a little as he ran forward, eyes trained on the ball in the air, not a care in the world about what was going on outside of that set.
Both players were so focused on the perfect arc that they didn’t notice the previous ball rolling right underneath Bokuto.
The ace smacked the ball, the sound ringing in the gym, a smile on his face as he looked to Keiji. That’s when Keiji saw the ball right below him.
“Bokuto-san!”
There was nothing he could do.
Bokuto’s right foot landed on the ball, and his ankle turned to the side from the force as the ball jerked away, followed by an audible snap. The next sound was a scream and the thud of a body hitting the floor. Bokuto’s body hitting the floor.
“Bokuto-san!” Keiji ran over to his friend who was now curled into himself, clutching at his ankle. His face was contorted into a pained grimace, and Keiji didn’t want to admit he saw a few tears already forming at the corners of his eyes. “Bokuto--I--are you alright?” It was a dumb question, but he didn’t know what else to say.
Bokuto responded with a groan as he curled further in on himself. His jaw was clenched tightly in an attempt to fight off screams or sobs.
“I--don’t move--I’ll call an ambulance.” Keiji ran over to where his bag was set down, and he rummaged through for his phone.
“ What’s your emergency? “ came a much too calm female voice.
“I-I need an ambulance! Fukurodani High School. My friend--he broke his ankle!”
A moment of silence. Then, “ Alright, we’ll send one right over. ”
Keiji breathed a thank you before sprinting back over to Bokuto who hadn’t moved an inch. If anything, he had gotten tenser.
“They’re on their way. They’ll be here soon, Bokuto-san.” Keiji kneeled beside his teammate, not entirely sure what to do. “I’m sorry. That was my fault. I should have been paying attention.” Another groan from Bokuto, probably a request for Keiji to shut up. “C-Can I touch you, Bokuto-san? Not your ankle--just your shoulder or back?”
The minutest of head nods gave Keiji the permission he sought, and he placed his hand in between Bokuto’s shoulder blades, on the vast expanse of his back. He moved it back and forth, gently and soothingly, trying to do anything to help his friend.
“I’m sorry, Bokuto. It will be alright, though. They’ll be here soon. Just hang on.”
“Thank--you--’Kaashi,” Bokuto managed to grit out. His eyes were still squeezed shut, his breathing ragged and short, but at least he spoke.
“I’m staying with you, don’t worry.” The growing sound of sirens in the distance. “Don’t worry.”
--------
Keiji sighed and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. He hadn’t been at the hospital too long, only about an hour, but the waiting chair seats were uncomfortable and he was beyond nervous.
He had ridden over in the ambulance with Bokuto (they had no issue since Keiji was the only other person present) and sat by his head, trying to feed him reassurances. They didn’t let him follow them back, so he was resigned to sitting in the waiting room as they took care of things.
Holding his head in his hands, Keiji glanced around the small room. There were a few people there, but they all seemed much calmer than Keiji. He began to bounce his leg, causing his head to jostle. He groaned and dropped his arms, standing up abruptly.
The other people in the room looked at him, and Keiji couldn’t stop himself from blushing and returning to his seat. He pulled his phone out and mindlessly began to scroll, hoping to distract himself and force the time to pass quicker.
It seemed to work when only a few minutes later a nurse walked into the room and said, “Is there anyone here for Bokuto Koutarou?”
Keiji was immediately to his feet, and he approached her without second thought. “I am.”
She regarded him for a moment before looking back into the room, seeing if anyone else was going to join them. When no one did, she motioned for Keiji to follow and they made their way down the halls.
It took a little longer than Keiji would have liked and his nervous energy kept causing him to walk ahead of the nurse every now and then. When they finally reached the room, she opened the door for him and he practically sprinted inside.
Sitting on the bed was Bokuto, his foot in a black cast and propped up.
“Bokuto-san.” Keiji hoped that maybe seeing his friend would cheer the ace up, but the depressed look on his face didn’t disappear.
“Hi, Akaashi.”
Not even a “hey.” This is bad. Keiji walked over to his bedside, trying not to let his eyes linger on the cast. He forced himself to only look at Bokuto’s face, to try and catch those golden eyes, but they were downturned, focused on his lap.
“How are you feeling?” He knew it was a dumb question. Based on Bokuto’s expression he could guess the answer. But he didn’t want to be inconsiderate and not ask.
Bokuto shook his head, eyes still trained downward. “Not good,” was all he said.
Keiji could only imagine how horrible this was for Bokuto. Not only was he in physical pain, but the mental anguish of having to take a break from volleyball was probably weighing heavily.
“Did the doctors say it would heal?” Maybe he could get better before nationals. Even without practicing for a month, Bokuto could probably join the games and kick ass. It’s just who he was.
“Six to eight weeks.” His voice was short and curt, annoyance and anger tinging the edges.
Shit.
“Oh. So, I guess tha--”
“No nationals. No final games with the team. I’m done.” Bokuto crossed his arms, and his gaze lifted an inch so he was staring at the cast now. “They said it’s a bad break. That I’ll be lucky if I can play even after it’s healed.”
Keiji had to hold in a gasp. No more volleyball for Bokuto? That was like asking someone not to breathe. Volleyball was Bokuto’s everything, it was his passion in life. It’s what kept him going.
“I . . .” Keiji let his voice trail off, trying to conjure up something positive to say. He was usually so good at getting Bokuto out of his dejected moods, couldn’t he do the same now? “I--”
“It’s fine, Akaashi. You don’t have to say anything. I know what this means.” Bokuto leaned back, head hitting the pillow with a soft thump. “I’m a failure.”
“Bokuto, you are not a failure because of this.”
The ace slammed a fist against the bed, startling Keiji slightly. “But I am! I messed up in practice and now I’m missing nationals and can’t be the best spiker in Japan and they say I might not play again which means no volleyball in college and no playing as a professional and I just--”
Bokuto stopped abruptly and let out a choked-off sound, which Keiji realized was an attempt to conceal a sob. The gray- and black-haired man covered his face with both hands, trying to hide his emotions from Keiji.
This was much more serious than anything Keiji had dealt with before. In other instances, Bokuto was moping around the court because he hit a spike out or got blocked. Those were easy to overcome: all Keiji had to do was remind him how talented he was and that people were cheering him on.
However, this was a real issue. Bokuto couldn’t play in nationals, that was a fact, and there was the potential that he might never play again. There seemed no way for Keiji to find positives in this situation. Still, he was going to try.
“Bokuto, it’s not a guarantee that you will never play again. You might--”
“You don’t know that, Akaashi! My ankle is broken badly! It might never heal properly!” This time, he couldn’t stop his cries, and Keiji felt his heart tear at the sound of his best friend in such distress.
Bokuto’s dreams were being crushed, and Keiji knew it was all his fault. He should have been paying better attention to the balls on the ground. All their practices and they never once considered that the balls might become a hazard. And now, a month away from the most important tournament of their lives, it came back to bite them in the ass.
“I’m sorry, Bokuto-san. It’s all my fault.” Keiji stared at his own hands, at his long, slender fingers that probably would never set for Bokuto again.
“W-What?”
Keiji looked up and was finally greeted by those big gold eyes, which were now brimming with tears. Where Keiji expected to find anger, he only saw sadness.
“It’s my fault that you landed on the ball. I wasn’t paying attention to where the spikes had gone.”
“Akaashi.” Bokuto sounded absolutely agonized as he said his name and sat fully up, doing his best to turn and face the setter. “That wasn’t your fault. If anything it was mine. I’m supposed to make sure the area is clear for me to jump--”
“But it rolled on after you jumped. By then, it was out of your control and into mine. It’s not your fault, Bokuto.” Keiji was not about to let this boy who was already in the pits of despair try and take the blame for the accident.
“You did warn me, though.”
“Yeah, and I was too late. It’s--god, I’m so sorry Bokuto. If it wasn’t for me--”
“If it wasn’t for you, volleyball wouldn’t mean this much to me, and I wouldn’t be this upset about not getting to play.”
The statement sent an electric shock through Keiji’s body. Did he hear him correctly? Did Bokuto really just say that? There was no way.
“Without you, Akaashi, I never would have become a top four ace. Without you and your amazing sets, I would be nothing. And because nationals would have been our last games together--well, that just makes the injury hurt all the more. Cause yeah, I’m really upset I won’t get to play with the team for one last time--I won’t get to play nationals my third year. But, more importantly, this means I don’t get to play with you one last time.”
More tears had gathered in Bokuto’s eyes, and Keiji could feel his own becoming wet.
Bokuto’s upset because he can’t play with me?
“Bokuto-san. . .”
“This whole situation sucks,” the ace said, never tearing his eyes off Keiji, “but I really would have loved to know that my last game with you was my last game with you.”
No. Don’t cry. You aren’t even the one with the broken ankle. Stop it, Keiji, don’t fucking cry. A few tears slipped down Keiji’s face, and he quickly tried to wipe them away. There was no stopping Bokuto from noticing, though.
“Well,” Keiji swallowed, trying to make his voice sound less emotional than it really was, “I guess we’ll have to make sure you heal properly. Make sure you can keep playing volleyball.”
And despite it all, despite the fact that he was sitting in a hospital bed, ankle wrapped in a black plaster cast, Keiji got to see that same look on Bokuto’s face when he told Keiji his sets were his favorite: that soft smile.
--------
No one expected Bokuto to show up at practice the next day, least of all Keiji. After watching the teen cry at the hospital over his lost volleyball career, he assumed Bokuto would be staying far away from practices.
He was wrong.
When Keiji and the rest of the team hurried into the gym from the locker room, Bokuto was sitting on a bench, talking with the coach and managers. He wasn’t the happiest looking, but he wasn’t completely depressed either.
Bokuto had been scowling as he hobbled around school that day. It was harder to get around with crutches, and the few times Keiji passed him, the ace looked miserable. Now, he just looked sort of tired. But if Keiji knew Bokuto, then he knew he would be staying the entire practice.
As the rest of the team went for the balls to start serving, Keiji jogged over to the bench.
“Bokuto-san.” The spiker turned his head, and his mood seemed to brighten at the sight of the setter.
“Hey, hey, hey, Akaashi,” he said, a small smile reaching his lips. “I’m here to watch.”
“I can see that.”
“Ah, hello, Akaashi,” their coach regarded him.
“Afternoon, sir.” Keiji bowed his head toward his coach.
“Bokuto will still be coming to practices, but it’s a real shame he can’t finish out the season with us.” Keiji glanced at Bokuto and saw any happiness Keiji had brought with him drain away. “But, like I was just telling him, as long as the rest of the team stays on top of training, we will be fine! It’ll be no different than when we have to adjust to one of his moods. Isn’t that right, Bokuto?”
Bokuto’s gaze jumped between the coach and Keiji before he settled them somewhere in between and solemnly said, “Right, sir.”
“Good. Alright, Akaashi, let’s go join your teammates.” The coach walked away, and Keiji spared one more look to Bokuto, who appeared sadder than he did in the halls this morning.
“Uh, Bokuto-san--will you stay and watch?” Keiji wasn’t sure if it would work, but it seemed to do the trick when Bokuto’s eyes widened a little. Being asked by a friend was better than essentially being told by a coach.
“Yeah. Yeah, ‘Kaashi, I will.”
“Thanks, Bokuto-san.”
--------
The days went on like that, Bokuto showing up to practice and feigning happiness when Keiji could see, deep down, that he was horribly sad. He would look over to see expressions that rivaled those when he got blocked, frown so deep and gold eyes so forlorn.
Keiji could see his hands twitching and moving as the team worked, pretending to spike when Keiji set the ball high in the air. He caught stray balls and tossed them back, and even though the team thanked him profusely when he did, he just looked even more down in the dumps.
The worst part, though, was when practice finished. Out of instinct, after the team thanked their coach, Keiji and Bokuto looked to one another, the question ready on Bokuto’s lips.
But it didn’t come.
It couldn’t come. They couldn’t stay and practice. So, for the first time since Keiji joined the team, the nets were being taken down at the actual end of practice.
Keiji still walked home with Bokuto, though he tried to convince the older boy to either call his own parents to pick him up or let Keiji call his.
“I’m fine,” Bokuto insisted. “I need the exercise anyway, especially if I’m going to make a full recovery! Can’t sit around and waste away.”
Every day, Bokuto made a mention of his recovery. At first, Keiji thought it was optimism, that the ace truly believed he would come back good as new from the break. However, he came to realize that Bokuto was merely trying to convince himself. If he told himself enough times that he would, in fact, recover, then it had to come true. He was trying to will it into existence.
Keiji wished that was how it worked, wished it was that simple. He wanted Bokuto to be able to just bounce right back when the cast came off. The reality, though, was weeks of physical therapy if he hoped to retain his use of it. If was the keyword. Only time would be able to tell.
It was on one of their nightly walks home, about less than two weeks to nationals, when Bokuto finally spilled.
“You know, ‘Kaashi, I’ve been trying so hard to act like all this isn’t bothering me, but. . .” He trailed off, letting the sounds of the night, cicadas and cars in the distance, the clink of his crutches as they hit the ground, fill the air. He sighed, head down and watching for any uneven ground or obstacles.
“You don’t have to be unbothered, Bokuto. This can really upset you, and that’s okay.” Keiji had Bokuto’s backpack secured to his back, insisting he would carry it. The older boy easily could have himself, but Keiji wanted him to have a little break. Walking with crutches was hard enough.
“No, I--I can’t let it upset me. At least not while I’m at school. I’m the captain. I have to be there for my team. And that means--” Bokuto’s voice broke a little. “And that means not being sad that I won’t play with you all in nationals.” He sniffled, and Keiji felt nothing but bone-deep sorrow for the boy.
“Bokuto-san, we’re all just as upset as you are about this. All the guys are so sad that you aren’t playing with us. We all want you on the court.”
A laugh came from Bokuto, but it sounded the opposite of happy. “I bet you all do. What’s a team without their ace?”
Keiji’s breath hitched. He wasn’t entirely sure how to respond.
“Shit, sorry. That was a bit insensitive of me to say, huh?” Bokuto shook his head, eyes still trained on the ground. “I didn’t mean it like that, Akaashi. You’re all still a great team. All still great players. Especially you.”
Keiji side-eyed him, hoping to see if he’d get that look of admiration that always came with Bokuto’s compliments, but the taller boy’s head was bent down.
“I know you didn’t mean it that way. I know you aren’t trying to be mean. You’re upset, and you have every right to be. I’m really sorry this happened, Bokuto.”
Bokuto stopped, huffing like he was trying to catch his breath. “I just--I want to play volleyball forever! I want to play with you and the others forever! This isn’t fair!” Despite his better judgment, Bokuto balanced on one foot and threw the crutches to the ground, the sound of clattering metal drowning out anything else.
He stood there, shoulders rising and falling quickly with anger. His fists were clenched at his sides. He still wouldn’t look up at Keiji.
Keiji had seen him angry before, plenty of times, but he had never seen such rage fill Bokuto; rage that overflowed like boiling water in a pot, the bubbles coming to the surface much too quickly and tumbling over.
“Bokuto-san--”
“I’m sorry.” The older boy brought his hands to his face, hiding it again like he did in the hospital when he had cried. “I’m sorry, ‘Kaashi, I’m sorry I’m being like this.”
“Bokuto-san,” Keiji said softly as he reached down for the crutches, “you don’t have to apologize. You’re allowed to feel this way. It’s alright.”
Bokuto wobbled on his foot, and Keiji made quick work of slotting the crutches under his arms and steadying him.
Can’t risk another injury.
Bokuto’s crying must have been quiet, because when he finally unshielded his face, his cheeks were shining with tears and his eyes were rimmed red. Keiji didn’t think as he reached out and thumbed away a teardrop that began its travel down his cheek. The action finally got the spiker to make his gold eyes meet Keiji’s blue ones.
“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. I know it doesn’t feel that way right now, but it will be. I promise. If there’s anyone who can come back from an injury like this, it’s you, Bokuto-san.” Keiji had to push down his own emotions, not wanting them to take over. “I’ll be here through it all, okay? I’m here to help and support.”
Bokuto sniffled and nodded. “O-Okay. It--it sounds a lot more believable when you say it.”
“Is that so? Alright--well from everyday on, I’m going to remind you that you got this, alright?” Keiji adored the small smile that Bokuto flashed at him.
“Alright. Thanks, Akaashi.”
“Anything for you, Bokuto-san.”
--------
After that conversation, things with Bokuto seemed to get better. He came out of his depressive slump a bit and started smiling again, though it wasn’t quite as bright as it used to be. But every day, its radiance grew a little more.
Just as he promised, Keiji told Bokuto day in and day out that he would recover: “You’ll show that ankle who’s boss;” “Only a top four ace could make a comeback like this;” “Japan can’t wait to have you on their team!”
Some of the encouragements were a bit too flashy for Keiji’s taste, but he knew they were the things Bokuto would like to hear. And it seemed to be working if Bokuto’s better attitude was anything to go by.
He looked less grouchy as he sat in for practices. He actually cheered when they scrimmaged, calling out “Nice serve!” and “Nice kill!” and “Great block!” and “Perfect set, Akaashi!” That last one made Keiji’s heart flutter every time he heard it.
Even without their captain and ace on the court, Fukurodani looked exceptionally strong. It was sad to say, but there was a barely noticeable difference between them with Bokuto on the court and Bokuto off it. Their serves were fierce; their receives on par; Keiji’s sets and decisions continued to prove almost flawless; and the spikers, who often sat back in the shadows due to Bokuto, came forth and shone.
Fukurodani still had a chance in the finals, even without their golden ace.
They were all sad to realize this, Bokuto especially, but it was the reality they were faced with. And besides, this would be what would happen next year: Bokuto would be gone, and Keiji would be left to set to other spikers.
Nationals approached sooner than they were all expecting, and before Keiji realized it, he was on the bus headed into the heart of Tokyo, Bokuto in the seat next to him. The coach had told Bokuto he wasn’t obliged to come, that they could have Keiji take over as captain, but he insisted on his presence.
“ I wouldn’t miss it for the world! ” he had said with almost the same enthusiasm as on-the-court Bokuto.
The bus ride wasn’t long, and soon enough, the team was all packed into a room together, futon mats laid out on the floor and bags strewn across the room. Bokuto also insisted on sleeping on the floor with the team, even when they had offered him a bed. He was a captain through and through.
The night before, as the rest of the team settled in and began to doze off, Keiji found himself lying awake, eyes trained on the ceiling. Millions of thoughts were running through his head, about the game tomorrow, and the possible games to follow, and how Bokuto would hold up being in the arena but not getting to play, what would happen if he didn’t fall asleep soon and was tired tomorrow, what if they cracked under the pressure without Bokuto--
“ ‘Kaashi.” Keiji turned his head to see Bokuto lying next to him, gold eyes sparkling in the dark. “I can hear you thinking. Go to sleep, vice captain. You’ve got a game tomorrow.”
“You’re still up yourself,” Keiji chided.
Bokuto hummed. “Yeah, but I won’t be playing. I can risk not getting a full eight hours.”
Keiji sighed and went back to watching the ceiling. “I’m just nervous. Overthinking.”
“Ah, you always do that,” Bokuto mused, and Keiji could hear the smile on his lips. “You’re going to be alright. You and the guys have been practicing for weeks--months--years! Ever since you got here, you’ve been training for this moment.”
“You’re talking like we weren’t at nationals last year,” Keiji remarked.
“Well--even more reason for you to be less nervous!” Bokuto’s voice got a little too loud, and there was a harsh Shhh! from across the room.
“Yeah, but--last year you were playing with us.” It was true the team had proven through practice that they functioned perfectly alright sans Bokuto, but putting that to the test against actual other teams made Keiji anxious.
What if they faltered? What if their spikes suddenly were weak and easily blocked? What if they couldn’t receive the ball well enough? What if Keiji couldn’t set cleanly?
“You’re thinking again.” Keiji blinked and met Bokuto’s eyes once more. This time, he took in his whole appearance, his hair down and over his forehead without the gel holding it up.
“Sorry,” Keiji mumbled. He turned on his side so he was fully facing Bokuto, not giving himself a chance to stare at the ceiling and get lost in thought anymore.
“Akaashi, you’re going to do great tomorrow. You know why?” A pause, waiting to see if Keiji would take the bait and answer the question. When he remained silent, Bokuto continued. “Because you’re the number one setter in Japan.”
Words like that would have worked on Bokuto, but they didn’t do it for Keiji. That wasn’t the type of encouragement he needed. Thankfully, Bokuto knew this.
“You’re my favorite setter, and I think your sets are the best! So why don’t you go and show everyone just how good you are!” Again, his voice got too loud, and more people joined in to shush him.
Keiji smiled, letting Bokuto’s words wash over him. “Thank you, Bokuto-san.”
“Vice captain Akaashi is gonna lead the team to victory!”
“Shhh!”
--------
They finished the first game, and they won. It hadn’t been too hard of a match; they were a much better team than their opponents, but, as Keiji predicted, there was something different about being in an actual game without Bokuto versus during practice.
They still played well, still got their receives up and sent their spikes sailing over. Keiji felt good about his sets, only a few off and causing some strife to the hitters.
But even with all the good that happened, there was still an emptiness none of them could explain. Despite Bokuto’s energetic cheers from the bench, the whole team felt like there was a gaping hole on the court. They tried their best to fill it in with precise plays and powerful serves, but nothing could replace Bokuto’s presence.
As Fukurodani made their way off the court and to the stands to spend the rest of the day, Keiji hung back and waited for Bokuto to catch up.
“Akaashi!” He was moving as fast as his crutches could take him, slightly out of breath from the exertion when he reached the younger boy. “Akaashi you were amazing! I’ve never gotten to watch you in a game before!”
Keiji shrugged his bag further onto his shoulder. “Thank you, Bokuto-san. That wasn’t my best playing, though.”
“Probably because you stayed up too late overthinking last night.” Bokuto snickered when Keiji shot him a glare. “But really, ‘Kaashi, you were so good! You and the whole team!”
“Things felt weird without you there, but I’m glad we looked good.” They pushed their way past teams that were flooding the court, trying not to drag behind their teammates too much.
“You are a good setter without me.” The statement almost made Keiji stop in his tracks. “Remember that time you said you were worried you wouldn’t be good without me? Well you are. You are more than good, Akaashi, you’re perfect! You’re the perfect setter!”
Oh my god. He remembered I said that? He remembered that from a month ago?!
“Uh--thanks, Bokuto.” Keiji felt a blush rise to his cheeks, and he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.
Bokuto merely smiled and continued to power through until the team stopped at a small clearing. The coach was saying something important, something about the game and the plan for the rest of the day. But Keiji couldn’t focus.
Bokuto’s words from last night had been ringing inside his head all day, and now he had these new ones to deal with. Why was some encouragement from his teammate affecting him like this? Bokuto just wanted to hype him up so he could help the team win. Even though he wasn’t playing, this was still Bokuto’s final tournament. Surely he wanted the team to win.
It had nothing to do with his actual assessment of Keiji’s skills. He probably told other teammates the same thing, right? He just wanted Keiji to do good. He didn’t really feel that way. Bokuto hadn’t been sad about not getting to have Keiji set to him one last time, no. He was just sad about not playing volleyball. None of it had to do with Keiji specifically.
Fuck. Why am I having all these thoughts now? Why couldn’t this have happened when he first told me these things? Why is it happening now?!
“Akaashi!” Keiji’s head snapped to attention, eyes locking on the coach. “I said excellent game, were you not listening?”
“S-Sorry, sir. Thank you very much.” Keiji bowed his head and swallowed, hoping he wasn’t too mad about his lack of attention.
“You all did well, but for next time. . .” Keiji couldn’t help but return to his thoughts as the coach rambled. He’d give them the same exact speech tonight and again tomorrow. He wasn’t missing much.
Keiji leaned back against the wall and let his mind wander. Bokuto had always told him he loved his sets, that he thought they were the best. And while the praise never failed to make Keiji blush, there seemed to be something different about when he had said so the last few times, especially now that he wasn’t receiving them.
The fact that Bokuto had broken down about not just playing volleyball, but not getting to spike Keiji’s sets again, also stood out in his mind. If volleyball was the boy’s life, then why would it cause him any more unrest about not getting to receive from Keiji? Shouldn’t he have just been upset about not playing in general? Why did it matter that he wouldn’t get to play with Keiji again?
And again, that night from a month ago, Bokuto asked Keiji to come to the same college as him and play with him. Why was he so insistent upon Keiji’s sets? They weren’t any better than Kageyama’s; the first-year had stuck in his brain ever since summer training camp. There was no way Keiji’s sets were actually worthy of Bokuto’s praise.
So why did he keep saying these things? Was Keiji seriously undermining his talent? Was there something special about the way Bokuto spiked that just meshed with Keiji’s sets? Was it more to do with Keiji as a person rather than his volleyball skills?
No. That couldn’t be it. It wasn’t that Bokuto was infatuated with Keiji as a person. That was impossible. Bokuto wasn’t actually sad about not getting to play with Keiji anymore. No, he was sad about the sets. It wasn’t Keiji. It couldn’t be Keiji. It couldn’t be Keiji.
Or could it?
“Akaashi.” The boy from his thoughts jolted Keiji back to reality. Bokuto had nudged his shoulder and motioned to the team with a jerk of his head. “We’re all going up to the stands. You okay?”
Embarrassment from being caught daydreaming about whether or not Bokuto liked him caused Keiji to flush. “U-Um--y-yeah. I’m coming. Sorry.” He coughed awkwardly and hiked his bag onto his shoulder more, turning away from Bokuto and following the team.
Just because you’ve had a crush on him for years doesn’t mean he feels the same way. He just likes your skills. Nothing more than that. He asked you to practice spikes with him cause you’re the only one who said yes. Cause you were so desperate to befriend him. Nothing to do with him liking you back.
Keiji settled into his seat and tried to ignore Bokuto sitting next to him. The older boy stuck his tongue out in concentration as he lowered himself down gently and made a fuss over where to place his crutches. Right as he was about to commit to letting them stick out into the aisle, Keiji spoke up.
“Bokuto-san, give them to me. We can lay them this way.”
Bokuto turned, and Keiji could have sworn he saw him blush slightly. “Oh, heh, thanks, Akaashi.” He handed the crutches over so Keiji could tuck them under their seats. “You’re so smart. Just like out on the court. Always thinking ahead!”
Keiji let out a sigh, and he didn’t mean for it to sound annoyed. But based on the worried look that overtook Bokuto’s face, that’s how it came out.
“Ah, sorry. I guess you’re probably tired of me saying things about the game. Sorry, I’ll stop.” He shifted so he was fully facing the courts and locked his eyes onto a game, watching the ball fly through the air.
“Bokuto-san, I’m not angry. I just--” Am I really about to say this? “I just don’t understand why you keep telling me I’m such a good player. I’m really not much better than half the setters here. Yet you keep telling me how much you love my sets. I just--I don’t get it.”
Suddenly, a hand was on Keiji’s shoulder, strong and warm, turning him around so he was face to face with big, gold eyes.
“Akaashi!” Bokuto shook him lightly as he agonized over his name. “Akaashi, Akaashi, Akaashi! ” He stopped, just staring into Keiji’s blue eyes with an intensity like never before. Not even on the court had he looked this serious before. “Are you for real Akaashi?!”
Keiji wordlessly nodded, not entirely sure what to say. He told Bokuto he didn’t understand, what was the ace going on about now?
“Akaashi! I like your sets so much because they’re good and they come from you!”
Keiji felt his breath hitch in the back of his throat as his eyes widened and his brain short-circuited. He had been right?! Bokuto liked his sets because they were his?!
“You’re funny, ‘Kaashi. You’re such a good setter, and it just makes everything better because you’re you!” Bokuto let go of Keiji’s shoulder and smiled, shaking his head to himself as he turned back to the court.
Keiji was frozen in place, eyes locked in one spot. His heart was pounding in his chest, threatening to burst.
I was right. I was right and Bokuto is acting like he didn’t just admit the most important thing in the entire world!
“B-Bokuto-san.”
The spiker looked back at Keiji, the smile still on his face. “Yeah, ‘Kaashi?”
“I-I--” How did he want to put this? “Because it’s--me?”
Bokuto cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. “Well, yeah. You’re my favorite person. And to get to have my favorite person set to me--that’s amazing!”
Keiji’s mind was reeling. Bokuto just kept adding on new layers to this situation. “I’m--your favorite person because my sets are good?” Keiji couldn’t risk interpreting this incorrectly.
“No. I mean--your sets are my favorite and I admire your skills for that. But that’s not why you’re my favorite person!”
Keiji let the disbelief take over his features. He let his eyes widen even more and his mouth hang open dumbly as he stared at Bokuto for a moment before gathering his thoughts. “You--I’m your--favorite person just--just because?” This was far too good to be true.
“Well not just because. It’s not random, or anything. You’re my favorite person cause you’re nice to me, and you’re really funny. You’re really smart and I admire that about you. Um, let’s see--there’s just so much good stuff about you! You always stay after practice with me, even though I know you’re probably tired. You always know what to say to cheer me up! Oh, oh! And you haven’t thought of me any less because I broke my ankle! See, Akaashi, you’re the best!”
Is this a confession? Was Bokuto pouring his heart out to Keiji? Was Keiji reading this wrong?
“And I just, I dunno--I just kinda hope that I’m your favorite person, too.” Keiji’s jaw dropped, causing Bokuto’s eyebrows to rise. “Did I say something wrong? Sorry, I just--”
“You said nothing wrong.” The words flew out of his mouth, and he was merely out of breath from listening to Bokuto speak. “You said everything right. You--Bokuto, I--”
“I’m sorry if that was too forward or anything. I just--you mean the world to me, Akaashi.” He rubbed the back of his neck and started to look away, but this time, it was Keiji’s turn to reach out and grab his shoulder.
“Bokuto-san.” The older boy froze, eyes trained on Keiji’s face. “You, uh--you’re my favorite person too. My favorite person to set to. My favorite person to be with. You’re--yeah, also my favorite.”
The grin that split across Bokuto’s face was blinding. “Akaashi!” Bokuto leaned forward, face so close to Keiji’s that their noses almost touched.
Keiji had to fight back the urge to lean closer, which he so desperately wanted to do, but they were in public, in front of their teammates, as a matter of fact.
“B-Bokuto-san, um--” Anything intelligent Keiji might have said got stuck in the back of his throat. There were three specific words he wanted to say, but he wasn’t about to do that just yet.
A loud uproar from the stadium caused Keiji and Bokuto to look down toward the courts. The first-year duo from Karasuno scored a point.
“Hinata scored! Damn, I missed it.” Bokuto inched forward in his seat, trying his best to see what was happening.
The distraction allowed Keiji to gather his thoughts. Bokuto said that he’s his favorite person, even outside of volleyball. And Bokuto is Keiji’s favorite person. So, does that mean--does that mean what Keiji thinks it means?
“Man, those two are insane,” Bokuto mused as he leaned back in his seat, hands resting behind his head, his elbow almost poking Keiji in the head. “I feel honored that Hinata took some of my advice!”
Keiji looked down at the court, watched the orange blur that was Hinata run back and forth, excitedly talking to Kageyama. “Well, you are a top four ace.”
“Was.”
Keiji snapped his head toward Bokuto and leveled him with an almost deadly glare. “Are. This injury doesn’t take that away from you.”
Bokuto shrugged, keeping his eyes trained on the court. He didn’t say anything, but any joy that had been present when praising Keiji just a few moments ago was gone. That empty sadness that Keiji recognized all too well was back.
Bokuto had seemed so happy all day. He wasn’t as depressed as Keiji thought he would be when watching the team play without him. Yet, every time he had looked over at the bench, Bokuto had a wide smile on his face, hands clenched in fists as he pumped them into the air, cheering loudly.
And after the game, Bokuto had talked with such enthusiasm about how Keiji played. He didn’t seem too upset that he wasn’t out there as well.
But now, that sadness returned with the reminder of Bokuto’s shortcomings. When it was just about him rather than Keiji and the team. That was his goal, his dream, and he couldn’t achieve it anymore. All because of an accident.
“You’re the number one ace to me.” Keiji knew he probably should have kept his mouth shut, probably should have let the subject drop, but he didn’t.
He dared to glance at Bokuto, and was surprised to find that soft smile on his face. He must have stared too long because Bokuto caught his eyes, the smile remaining on his face.
They held each other’s gaze for a while, Karasuno’s game forgotten at the moment. All that existed was the number one ace and his number one setter. Keiji felt a smile tug at his lips, and he let it happen.
They had each other. No matter whether Bokuto could play volleyball again or not didn’t matter. They were each other’s favorite people, and that’s all they could ask for.
--------
The bus ride back from nationals, after losing, was a solemn and quiet one. Each team member was feeling like the loss was their personal fault. In reality, it was no one’s fault; the other team was, ultimately, stronger.
Keiji knew Bokuto was kicking himself, thinking that maybe if he had been on the court they would have won. Hypotheticals would trap them all. A lot of things could have gone differently to ensure a victory, but in the end, what happened happened.
Tears had been shed at the stadium, but right now, everyone was silent, left to their own thoughts of regret.
As Keiji stared out the window, he caught Bokuto’s reflection. The taller boy had his head back against the seat, eyes closed but not asleep. He studied how some hair fell into his face, tickling his nose and flying upward with each exhale. His eyelids fluttered but stayed closed. His lips were parted slightly, and Keiji allowed himself to focus on them for far too long.
Despite the excitement of the rest of the tournament, all that occupied Keiji’s mind was their conversation from that first day.
How they admitted to each other how much they liked each other. Well, neither of them had outright said, “I like you as more than a friend and I’d like to date you!” but they both might as well have.
Unless Keiji was interpreting it incorrectly. Maybe Bokuto was just confirming that Keiji was his best friend. There’s nothing weird about telling your best friend that, right? And considering they didn’t discuss the topic again, then it couldn’t have been anything but platonic.
But the look on Bokuto’s face, the feeling in Keiji’s chest, it was all too much to be just platonic.
When the van pulled up to Fukurodani, there was a collective sigh. This was really the end.
They all piled out and their coach gave them a few parting words, telling them to take a few days off but they’d get back to practice soon. Third-years didn’t need to attend anymore. Keiji had to swallow past a lump in his throat when he heard that. And when he looked at Bokuto, the ace’s eyes were glassy.
They all said their goodbyes, and Keiji went up to Bokuto. “Ready to go home? I can carry your bag--”
“Set to me. One last time.”
Keiji froze, hands outstretched toward Bokuto’s bags. “Uh, Bokuto-san, are you sure--”
“Yes.” The older boy gave Keiji no time to respond as he made his way toward the gym. Keiji remained where he was, mouth open in disbelief.
But he wouldn’t say no to Bokuto.
He grabbed the bags and hauled everything to the gym, catching up just as Bokuto unlocked the door with his keys, keys which would soon belong to Keiji.
“Just--don’t hurt yourself. I can set the net up.” Keiji dropped their items and jogged to the closet. Bokuto remained where he was propped up on his crutches, eyes following Keiji as he lugged the poles and net out. This was a two-person minimum job, but Keiji wasn’t about to let that stop them.
After far too long, everything was set up, and a cart of volleyballs was placed next to Bokuto, who was standing right up against the net.
“Don’t hurt yourself, now,” Keiji warned as Bokuto reached for the first ball.
“If you set like you normally do, we won’t have a problem.” Bokuto flashed him a smile and tossed the first ball into the air. Keiji got underneath and sent it toward Bokuto in a perfect arc so the spiker didn’t have to move an inch to reach his arm up and hit it over the net.
It wasn’t a proper spike. He wasn’t jumping up and slamming it down. But merely hitting the ball was enough to bring a blinding grin to Bokuto’s face.
He faced Keiji, gold eyes glimmering in the harsh gym lighting. “Another one?”
“Of course.”
They went for a while, Keiji making sure to not force Bokuto to move too much, if at all if he could help it. He missed a few of the hits, slamming them into the net. But he laughed every time.
Keiji was happier than he could say seeing Bokuto smile on the court again, even if he wasn’t jumping or hitting with the force he typically did.
When they ran out of balls in the cart and Bokuto was holding the last one, Keiji could have sworn he heard a crack in Bokuto’s voice as the older boy asked, for one last time, “One more?”
Keiji felt the hot pin-prick of tears, and he nodded as he gave his automatic answer: “Yes.”
As the ball floated through the air from Bokuto’s toss, all Keiji could think about was the fact that this very well could be the last set he ever sent Bokuto’s way.
Better make it the best one yet. Even after a long day, after nonstop games over the past week, Keiji crouched down, felt the ball in his hands, pushed up, and sent the volleyball to Bokuto in the best set he could manage.
He gasped when he looked over and noticed Bokuto’s crutches on the ground, the ace balancing on his non-broken foot, tongue stuck out in concentration. He swung his arms back and bent his knee, pushing himself into the air to meet the ball, and as he lined up to hit it, Keiji was running over to his side, prepared to catch him should he lose his balance coming back down.
Bokuto spiked it over the net, the loud thwack echoing throughout the gym. He landed and wobbled, but Keiji was there, hands on his waist to steady him.
When Bokuto was no longer about to topple over, the two boys looked at each other. Both their eyes were wet, but Bokuto broke out into a huge grin, a laugh leaving his lips.
“That--that was the most perfect set ever, Akaashi! My absolute favorite set! From my favorite setter!”
And that’s when Keiji leaned in to kiss him, capturing his lips with his own before the ace had the chance to flash that wide, toothy grin again.
Bokuto made a noise of surprise at the back of his throat, and Keiji expected him to pull away but was happy to find the older boy pushing back, meeting the kiss enthusiastically.
Keiji kept his hands on Bokuto’s waist, holding him up as the ace turned in his hold so they were fully squared to each other. He wrapped his strong arms around Keiji’s neck and pulled him closer, their chests flush.
The kiss was everything Keiji wanted and more. Bokuto’s lips were as soft as Keiji had imagined them, despite being chapped. He could smell him perfectly now, an endearing mix of sweat and what Keiji didn’t know how to classify as anything other than just Bokuto.
Bokuto turned his head, going for a better angle, and Keiji complied, shifting to accommodate. Just when he thought the ace was going to pull away, he pushed even more, forcing Keiji’s lips apart slightly. He gasped into Bokuto’s mouth and felt a smile grow against his lips.
A moment later, Bokuto did pull away, leaning back and relying on Keiji’s hold to keep him upright. “I wanted to do that in the stadium, but kinda figured that wasn’t the best place to have a first kiss.”
Keiji’s eyes widened, and Bokuto threw his head back in loud laughter at the setter’s reaction.
“So it wasn’t just me. You wanted to kiss me then too,” Keiji thought out loud.
Bokuto stopped laughing, eyes returning to Keiji’s blue ones. “Akaashi! I told you you’re my favorite person! And our faces were this close!” Bokuto shot his head forward, this time bumping noses with Keiji.
Now, it was Keiji’s turn to laugh. He squeezed his eyes shut and let the hilarity of his obliviousness take over. “God! I’m so stupid! I told myself that you were just telling me we were best friends!”
“Akaashi!”
Keiji opened his eyes to see Bokuto shaking his head, a shit-eating grin on his face. “And here I worried I was picking up signals that didn’t exist.”
The two locked eyes and started to laugh together, the volleyballs littering the floor long forgotten. When their laughter settled down, Keiji dared to pull Bokuto into another kiss, and was happy to find the ace eagerly accepted.
That kiss was just as good as the first, long and passionate yet not going too far too fast for Keiji’s inexperienced self.
When they pulled away, they stood in each other’s arms, gazing into the other’s eyes. Bokuto’s golden irises had never looked brighter.
“Does this mean we’re boyfriends?”
Keiji snorted and released his hold on Bokuto’s waist, shoving the taller boy in the chest playfully. “I sure hope so, or else I really misread this entire situation.”
Bokuto’s giggle was a sound Keiji wanted to listen to on repeat. “Okay. So--we’re boyfriends. Good. Finally.”
“Finally,” Keiji repeated softly. He glanced to the side at all the volleyballs on the court. “Well, I suppose we should clean up.”
“You mean you should clean up?” Keiji scowled and Bokuto cackled. It warmed Keiji’s heart.
Keiji made quick work of collecting the ball and disassembling the net. He was exhausted by the time he finished, and he still had to walk home carrying the double amount of bags with Bokuto’s stuff to account for, but Keiji had never been happier.
“Ready?” he asked, hoisting the plethora of straps onto his shoulders.
“Yep!” They exited the gym together for what would probably be the last time and made their way across the school campus. Neither of them spoke a word.
It was a comfortably silent walk, and when they eventually reached Bokuto’s house, Keiji felt a tug on his heartstrings. It was the end of an era and the beginning of a new one.
“Hey, Akaashi.” Keiji stared at his now-boyfriend in the dim streetlight, looking up just slightly to meet his eyes. “Thanks for being the best setter ever.”
Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry.
Keiji nodded and sniffled, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. “Thanks for being the best ace ever.”
Bokuto smiled, and it was completely devoid of sadness.
Keiji smiled back and found his own filled with something new: love.
--------
I’m so late. Keiji pushed his way through people, not looking at who he was shoving, eyes trained on making sure he was headed toward the right section. When he found it, he ran down the steps, scanning for his row. Ah, there we go. He had to squeeze past a few people to get to his seat, but he finally arrived and plopped down, allowing himself to take a deep breath.
The game had only just begun, only a few points being scored. As he looked out to the court, his eyes landed on the figure right away.
There was Bokuto, stretching his calf as he settled into his new position on the rotation.
He looks good, Keiji couldn’t help but think. He also couldn’t help but feel so proud of the man he saw out on the court.
Just as Keiji had told him, Bokuto made a full recovery from the broken ankle. His spirit and determination never wavered, and on the off chances that it did, Keiji was right there to support him and give him that extra inspiration to keep going.
It was a difficult recovery. Physical therapy was frustrating and led to many tear-filled phone calls, Bokuto sobbing that he wasn’t making as much progress as he thought was necessary.
“It’s not working, Akaashi. My ankle still hurts and it’s still too weak and I’m just--I can’t do it!”
Keiji never gave up on him, though, and never let Bokuto give up on himself. He encouraged him through it all, and when he was finally back at perfect form, the younger boy had never been happier.
Bokuto was able to play in college, though he had to deal with a new setter as Keiji ended up at a different school. Keiji made sure to remind Bokuto not to push himself too hard, and the ace always heeded his advice.
Then, after university, Bokuto got recruited for a professional league team. The call to Keiji with the news had been another full of tears, these ones happy instead.
“They want me, Akaashi! I did it!”
From there, he had been recruited for the Japan national team, just like he had dreamed of doing all those years ago. Their days on the Fukurodani team simultaneously felt so long ago, but also like their after-practice sessions had just happened the other day.
Throughout it all, Keiji was with him. After their confession post-nationals, despite the fact that Bokuto would be going off to university and leaving Keiji at Fukurodani, the two decided that, more than anything else, they wanted to date. They were committed to holding up a long-distance relationship. It was troubling at times, but when they finally got to see each other after long periods apart, it was the best feeling in the world.
Keiji never stopped setting for Bokuto. Sure, he wasn’t playing on a team with him anymore, but when they did spend days together, Bokuto usually found a way to cajole Keiji into setting a few many spikes for him.
The whistle blew, indicating for Japan’s player to serve, and Keiji settled into his seat, ready to enjoy watching his boyfriend do what he loves.
Japan’s ace.
The serve flew over, much faster than anything Keiji had ever seen. The other team received and sent an intense spike over, which Japan was able to flawlessly get into the air. It was amazing to watch them play. It was nothing like high school, even though the same fundamental love for the sport was still there. These players were all whole-heartedly in their element.
The set went up, and Keiji followed the arc to Bokuto, who slammed the ball over, hitting one of his insane line shots. The whistle blew, confirming the point for Japan, and cheers broke out in the crowd.
“Yes!” Keiji found himself yelling, hands suddenly clenched into fists. My boyfriend just scored a point! He watched as the players on the court slapped Bokuto on the back, and he grinned at them all, soaking in their praise. Some things never change.
The game ended much too quickly, Japan taking the win. Ushijima scored the final point, and Keiji knew he would get to hear Bokuto mutter about how he wished it had been him.
The spectators all filed out, and Keiji hung back, hovering near the doors he knew led down to the locker rooms. He wasted his time on his phone, knowing it would be a hot minute before the team finally emerged.
When the door slammed open, Keiji glanced up, and he could hear his boyfriend’s contagious laughter.
“We’ll get you a matching pair then, yeah?” Bokuto had his arm slung around Hinata as the two men exited the hall, and Keiji stood a bit more at attention, wanting to make sure he could be spotted.
Sure enough, as soon as Bokuto looked away from the shorter man, his eyes went right to where Keiji was. His face broke out into an even larger grin, and he said something to Hinata before running over.
“Keiji!” He opened his arms up, and Keiji obliged, despite the fact he was probably a bit sweaty and smelly still. That classic Bokuto scent.
“Hi, Koutarou,” he sighed into the man’s shoulder.
Bokuto gave him a tight squeeze. “Did ya see me out there?!”
Keiji laughed and pulled back, reaching up to smooth a strand of hair back in place. “You were on the court for most of the game, of course I saw you.”
He was rewarded with a bright smile, all teeth and happiness. “Well, I wanted to make sure you were paying attention to me and not Hinata!” He yelled the other’s name over his shoulder, head bent back, looking to see if the younger man heard. If the way he was staring at Kageyama said anything, Bokuto’s jibe went flat.
“I didn’t take my eyes off you the whole time,” Keiji reassured him as he pulled Bokuto up to his full height with a tug to his shirt. “Now, where was it you wanted to go?”
Bokuto’s face lit up, as if it wasn’t bright enough already, and he grabbed Keiji’s hand and intertwined their fingers. “It’s a surprise!” Bokuto tugged him along, shouting goodbyes to his teammates.
He led Keiji a few blocks down the street before turning toward a gym.
“Koutarou, a gym?”
“C’mon! You haven’t set to me in a while.”
“You just played a professional game! Aren’t you tired?”
Bokuto shook his head. “I’m never too tired for your sets! C’mon! Please?”
As always, Keiji couldn’t reject the request. “Alright.” Bokuto whooped in triumph, looking happier than he did at the end of the game he just won, and he pulled Keiji into the gym. He felt rather out of place in his nicer outfit, but he didn’t care too much. Not when he was with Bokuto.
They found an empty court with a net up and some balls lying around. Keiji took off his watch and jacket and shoes, putting on an extra pair of sneakers Bokuto had in his bag. It had been a minute since he played volleyball to any extent, so Keiji had to stretch a bit beforehand and remind himself just what to do. When they were both good, they got in their positions.
“Ready?” Keiji gave Bokuto a nod, and the Japan national player tossed the ball in the air, perfectly over Keiji’s head, allowing him to fall into the all too familiar stance. He made contact with the ball and sent it upward, the arc not as clean as it used to be, but that was expected with time away from the sport. Still, Bokuto smacked the ball down with insane strength and precision.
When he landed, he looked like he might burst with happiness. “Keiji! That was perfect!”
“It really wasn’t. It’s been months since I’ve set.”
“And it’s been months since I’ve spiked a good set.”
Even now, when Bokuto played professionally and was on the national team, he still praised Keiji’s sets like they were the best thing in the world.
“Koutarou, you play with professional athletes.”
A smile, soft yet endearing, accompanied by golden eyes that seemed to glow. “Yeah, but none of them are you.”