in another life

bokuto:

[Look outside! (＠´∀｀)ノ]

"What?" Akaashi kicked his legs out of bed and strode to his window. "Impossible-" He pulled apart the blinds and looked down.

Out in the dead of night stood Bokuto, with the burgundy knit scarf around his neck, a jacket, jeans, and slippers. He looked up and grinned, and waved wildly in Akaashi's direction.

Akaashi's eyes widened. "No, no, no, no-" He pulled away from the windowsill and ran out of his room, straight downstairs and to the front door. He threw it open and faced Bokuto, who was jogging to him with a smile and a shiver in each step.

"May I come in?"

"No! No, we're-"

"Why not?"

"We're going back to the hospital right now. I'm taking you back." Akaashi reached his arms out and pushed Bokuto away.

"What? No!" Bokuto refused to budge. He pushed Akaashi back this time. "I just came from there."

"Exactly, because you belong there!" Akaashi felt that his words were a bit bitter, but he had no other way of telling Bokuto the truth. "You're sick, you need medical attention."

"So I can't sleep." Bokuto swatted Akaashi's hands away. "What's the big deal?"

"It's more than that!" He exerted more force into his arms, getting Bokuto to take a step back. "You've had two panic attacks this week already, and your hallucinations are getting worse. My home is not a place for you to be right now."

"I get panic attacks when you're not around," Bokuto answered simple-mindedly. "And my hallucinations aren't all that bad."

Akaashi clenched his jaw behind a mildly irritated face. "Stop trying to act like this isn't such a big deal... You may not think it is, but I..." He paused and reached his arms out to get in another shove. "Let's just go."

"I don't want to." Bokuto grabbed Akaashi's hands with his own.

"Bokuto, stop."

"I don't want to go back!"

"How did you even sneak out?"

"By sneaking out! They don't pay much attention to me anyways!"

Akaashi yanked his hands away and stared at Bokuto. As much as it infuriated him, he knew that Bokuto wasn't going to go anywhere unless he let him into his home first. He swallowed thickly.

"Get inside." Akaashi stepped to the side.

Bokuto's eyes did the familiar light up thing as he bounded into Akaashi's home. He removed his slippers and waited at the entrance for his friend to enter. Akaashi stepped in and shut the door behind him.

"You chose the perfect night." Akaashi said bitterly as he hobbled up the stairs. "My parents aren't home."

"It's not like I would've made any noise," Bokuto all but shouted, following after him.

Akaashi sighed. "I'll get you back to the hospital by seven in the morning."

"Fine by me! Imagine the looks on their faces when they see me coming in from the outside. Imagine their faces when they notice I'm not even in my room." Bokuto was elated.

Akaashi entered his room and shut the door behind Bokuto. "I'm going straight to sleep."

"But I thought you had that nightmare." Bokuto stood at the side of Akaashi's bed.

"I did..." He paused for a moment. "... Is that why you came here? Because of the nightmare?"

Bokuto stared at Akaashi. "Because you said you were okay, and I knew you weren't."

Akaashi was at a loss for words. He returned Bokuto's gaze, then looked down quickly afterwards. A hand tugged at his shirt weakly. "I see." He reached a hand out to turn on the lamp that sat on his nightstand.

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, Bokuto rubbed the back of his neck. "What was the dream about?"

Akaashi sat in bed and wrapped a sheet around himself. He tossed the navy blue one to Bokuto, remembering how fond he was of it the last time he'd come over. He watched as Bokuto gathered it up in his arms and threw it around himself. He then stared at Akaashi, waiting for his response.

He sighed. "I was drowning." His hands picked at the small lint rolls that stuck to his sheet. "Drowning in something black, sort of like tar. I was fighting and trying to get out, but... I had no power over it whatsoever. I was so weak, and it'd gotten to the point where I could barely breath. My face was the only thing sticking out." Akaashi cocked his head back to demonstrate this, with his finger tapping his chin.

"I was struggling. But in the end, I couldn't move. I was shouting, but no sound came out. No one could hear me. No one was around." Akaashi shrugged. "The liquid started flooding into my mouth and nose, and it wasn't until I was suffocating that I forced myself awake."

Akaashi didn't say another word afterwards. He only bundled himself up in the sheets that surrounded him. He turned his head to look out the window, eyeing the moon timidly.

Shifting in his seat, Bokuto pulled himself closer to Akaashi, one hand grasping the blanket that had been given to him.

Akaashi remained in place with the thought in mind that Bokuto would respect his personal space and sit a foot or two away from him, but to his apparent surprise, Bokuto leaned his head on Akaashi's shoulder and slipped an arm around him.

Akaashi squirmed in discomfort. "What are you doing?"

"Comforting?" Bokuto replied, lifting his head. "Isn't that what humans do?"

Akaashi watched him carefully. "Don't talk like you're not one..."

Bokuto chortled quietly and placed his head back on Akaashi's shoulder. They didn't speak for a moment, and the room was filled with the hushed sounds of the outside.

"Hey."

"What?"

"Let's watch Cloud Atlas."

"No." Akaashi shook his head.

Bokuto grumbled to himself. "Why not? Don't you have it in your laptop?"

"I do, but I don't want to watch it. It's a long movie, and I've watched it about seven times already."

"Well if you've watched it seven times then why not watch it an eighth time?"

"Because it's three in the morning and I want to fit some sleep into my schedule. By the time that movie ends, it'll be six. Then I'll have to walk you to the hospital before the doctors find out you're missing and lose their minds."

A laugh escaped Bokuto, the sound curling his lips into a smile. "What if they've already found out?"

"Then that would be a problem."

"And then they'd turn my room upside down in an attempt to find me."

"That'd be a tough mess to clean up."

Turning his head, Bokuto looked at Akaashi. "Everything you say is so straightforward. Why is that?"

"I... Don't know." Akaashi inhaled slowly. "It's just how I am. Sometimes I think I'm funny. But people never laugh at my jokes."

Bokuto snorted. "When have you ever tried to make a joke?"

"When I said that it would be a tough mess for them to clean up..." Akaashi sounded genuinely confused. "Didn't that come off as remotely funny?"

Bokuto couldn't help but guffaw, his head tilting back. "That was your idea of a joke?"

"You're too loud, be quiet." Akaashi shoved his visitor lightly. Despite this, it only seemed to make Bokuto laugh even harder. Akaashi pursed his lips in frustration, but this look quickly vanished as a small laugh fell from his lips.

"Well, you're laughing now..." He tried to hide his smile. "So I guess I am pretty good at being funny."

Bokuto glanced at him. "Yeah, but for all the wrong reasons." His laughter died down along with Akaashi's. "You know... I don't think I've ever heard you laugh, or seen you smile for that matter."

Shrugging one shoulder, Akaashi grabbed his phone. "Well now you have."

Bokuto looked over at the phone screen. "What are you doing?"

"Setting an alarm for six AM." Akaashi set his phone down and leaned back slowly, resting the back of his head against his pillow. Bokuto followed, his arm still around him.

This is strange. He stared up at the ceiling and sighed. Why do I let him do this?

Akaashi's head slumped to the side, in Bokuto's direction.

"I hope you don't mind me sleeping." He whispered the words.

"Of course I don't. I showed up to your house unannounced at three in the morning. You've got all the right to sleep..."

"I just hope it isn't rude-"

"It isn't." Bokuto's arm unconsciously squeezed Akaashi closer to his side.

"Alright..." He closed his eyes. "Good night." Akaashi pulled his arms in close, wrapping the sheets around himself.

"See you in three hours." Bokuto whispered.

Complete and utter silence befell them afterwards. Akaashi had kept his eyes closed for quite a while, trying to fall into a deep sleep, but found that he couldn't, or at least, not as quickly as he thought he could. He kept his breathing controlled and steady for about forty minutes; he looked sound asleep, but was actually drifting between the real world and the dream realm.

There was silence, and then there was a sound. A subtle, gentle sound. The sound of someone cautiously moving their arm when they didn't wish to wake someone.

Akaashi remained in his faux sleeping position, feeling that it would take much more of an effort for him to open his eyes and check around than to stay dormant. And so he continued to try and grasp sleep, expecting nothing from the noise.

It was because of this that he was so surprised when he felt a gentle sensation against his forehead. It took all of his power not to flinch when he'd felt the unfamiliar touch.

They were fingers. Hesitant fingers that ghosted over Akaashi's forehead in order to push a loose strand of hair away.

Keeping his eyes closed, Akaashi took in the feeling of this. He could sense the heavy amount of reluctance in each movement that Bokuto's hand carried out.

Bokuto was afraid to wake Akaashi. So much so that his hands trembled slightly whenever he'd push Akaashi's bangs away.

Slowly but gradually, Akaashi's heart rate picked up. His hands twitched once, and he moved closer, leaning into Bokuto's touch. This backfired, however, as the other's hand quickly withdrew. Akaashi relaxed then, keeping the sleeping act alive.

Bokuto did not move a muscle after having seen Akaashi stir. The last thing he wanted to do was wake him up, so they lay in silence for minutes on end. Akaashi figured that Bokuto would keep to himself for the rest of the night, so he put his focus back to trying to sleep. He held the same position and felt himself dozing off...

"I'm sorry." The words were barely a whisper, and they came without warning. It almost sounded as if Bokuto were talking to himself.

Akaashi remained still and silent.

"... I never meant to drag you into my life..."

Bokuto inhaled all that he could. Akaashi felt his chest rise. He could practically hear the frown in his voice.

"I know that I'm unbearable. I know that I'm a lost cause. I know that you know that, too... And yet you still stick by me."

He paused for a moment, then spoke up again. His voice was a soft tremor.

"So... Thank you."

Bokuto had nothing more to say after that. He lay his cheek on the top of Akaashi's head and kept still, daring not to wake him.

But Akaashi now couldn't find it in himself to sleep. Bokuto's words haunted him, and they repeated themselves over and over in his mind.

He swallowed once, hoping to get rid of the lump in his throat.

After that night, things had only gone downhill from then.

Akaashi took a glance out the window, only to instantly throw on his clothes and toss his bag over his shoulders. He jogged downstairs, slipped his shoes on, and was out the door in seconds, making his way down the familiar route to the hospital. Above, the clouds were dense, and they gathered quickly, casting a dark shroud over Akaashi's path. He zipped his jacket up to shield himself from the harsh winds that came his way and advanced forward. There was definitely a storm coming his way, so Akaashi knew that Bokuto would need him.

A month and sixteen days had passed since Bokuto's final visit to Akaashi's home, and once he'd been taken back to the hospital, the doctors and nurses made sure to keep a closer eye on him, and with good reason. Not only was Bokuto the kind of guy to sneak out when no one was watching, but his condition had quickly begun to worsen without warning. Before then, he would normally lose several pounds a week, but ever since the night he'd snuck out, his weight loss could only be described as alarming. In the span of a little over a month, Bokuto had gone from a general one-hundred and fifty pounds to a mere ninety-seven pounds, last time they'd weighed him. The drastic weight loss was awful enough, but as if to add insult to injury, Bokuto's worsening condition also made it increasingly difficult for him to walk, move, and speak.

Akaashi frowned heavily as he entered the hospital. He made his way up the same path, walking swiftly and without pause. That was, until he saw a familiar face.

"Kuroo?" Akaashi stopped in his tracks, in front of Bokuto's room.

The black haired male looked up from his hands. He faked a smile. "Hey- Akaashi, right? Long time."

"Yeah, I'm-," He turned his head, "Is there someone in there?" He didn't wait for Kuroo to respond and glanced into Bokuto's room. Surely enough, he noticed Kenma sitting in the seat next to Bokuto's bed. His back was facing the door, and Bokuto seemed to have all of his attention on him.

"Will Kenma allow me to enter the room?"

Kuroo rubbed the lower part of his face with his hand. "Nope." He leaned back in his chair. "Take a seat. Kenma usually isn't the kind of person to speak to people one on one, so... I think you'd better leave 'em both alone."

Inhaling deeply, Akaashi lingered in place, then sat down in the empty seat next to Kuroo.

"You seem a bit anxious." Kuroo looked at Akaashi sideways.

"I am. There's a storm coming. Bokuto doesn't do well with those..."

"Ah..." Kuroo looked at the ceiling, as if he would be able to see the clouds from there. "I hadn't noticed that one was rolling in." He slowly lowered his head and folded his arms. "Didn't think you knew that about him."

Akaashi turned his head to face Kuroo. "Was he ever fond of them?"

"Don't think so. In the past, he'd always get sort of tense and paranoid whenever a storm would pass over head, but that was kind of it. Now I bet he... Suffers panic attacks because of them."

Akaashi looked down. "He does. Storms trigger them."

Kuroo made a grunting noise and had nothing more to say on the subject. Akaashi figured he should stay quiet too. He knit his fingers together and kept his eyes down, anticipating when the first boom of thunder would sound. He would have to close Bokuto's blinds and take his mind off of it somehow. Show him a movie or play a game with him that would result in him to calm down quickly. Akaashi rubbed the back of his neck hastily and closed his eyes.

"Ninety-seven fucking pounds."

Startled, Akaashi opened his eyes and glanced in Kuroo's direction. He glowered at nothing in particular.

"I'm sorry?"

"Ninety-seven pounds, right? That's how much he supposedly weighs now?"

Once Akaashi realized what Kuroo was talking about, he instantly felt his spirits fall. "Yes."

"Fucking bullshit." He swore without a filter.

Wincing, Akaashi turned his head away. He'd only spoken to Kuroo once before, and they barely exchanged any words. He didn't know how to deal with him now, so he remained silent. He twisted his fingers and pursed his lips, wary of what Kuroo would say next.

"All of this is so- ugh. Why the hell did this have to happen to him? And at such an early damn age, too?" He hissed the words under his breath, openly frustrated with the situation. "He turned twenty only three months ago..."

Akaashi lowered his head. "It's not fair."

"It's not." Kuroo echoed the words in agreement. "But... Here we are. And here he is..."

Kuroo rubbed his elbow, irate, and sighed in defeat.

"I'm not coming back to visit him anymore. Not after this. I've seen enough." He turned to look at Akaashi. "Keep him company from now on. I don't know how you do it, but... When you're around him, you help him forget."

Akaashi kept his eyes down. He wouldn't show this, but Kuroo's words had hit him harder than he could ever imagine. They sat heavily in the pit of his stomach, churning and pestering him, urging him to throw up. But he only swallowed and kept his composure, just as he'd been doing since the day he met Bokuto.

Akaashi reached his hand up to rub the back of his neck roughly, administering a feeling of discomfort to one area in order to ignore the pain that threatened to swallow his heart. He closed his eyes in a slow blink and kept his breathing quiet.

Having been neck deep in his own sorrows, Kuroo was blind to Akaashi's. He forced himself to stand after some time, tapping his fingers against his pants.

"Keep doing what you're doing." His voice was low.

Akaashi nodded in response.

"Of course. I couldn't stop, even if I tried."

A biting chuckle escaped Kuroo.

"Yeah... Ain't that the horror of it all..." He rubbed his chin and stalked his way down the hall. "Keep in touch, Akaashi."

"Of course." He repeated the same phrase, finding that it was difficult to search for words at the time. He watched as Kuroo walked away, far enough for small details to become blurred. He only looked like a tall, thin, black mass now as he stood near the stairway. He was waiting for Kenma, but Akaashi wondered why he hadn't waited for him in the seat that he was initially sitting in.

Just then, as Akaashi bit down on the inside of his lower lip, he turned his head in time to catch a glimpse of Kenma lowering his head towards Bokuto. It wasn't necessarily a bow. It seemed more along the lines of an act of affection, or at least as affectionate as Kenma could get, which wasn't much.

He touched his forehead to Bokuto's shoulder, which only earned a laugh from him. Bokuto talked quietly in response to Kenma, gave a nod, and smiled.

He never seemed to stop smiling.

Once he saw this, Kenma picked himself up from his seat, put his hands at his side, and bowed his head. He didn't last another second in Bokuto's company before he turned and briskly walked out of the room. He kept his head down and played the fool, pretending he didn't see Akaashi. In seconds, Kenma was down the hall and making his way down the stairs, having completely ignored Kuroo as well.

Kuroo didn't seem surprised in the slightest. He only waved goodbye at a staring Akaashi before following his small friend down the stairs.

Hesitantly, Akaashi barely managed to wave back before he heard his name being called from that all too familiar room, by that all too familiar voice.

He directed his attention to a grinning Bokuto who eagerly sat up in bed.

Akaashi almost smiled back, and he would have, too, if it hadn't been for the thunder that sounded its arrival from above. He watched as Bokuto's smile faded instantly, his eyes having gone from half lidded to wide in a second. His hands squeezed tightly around the navy blue blanket that enveloped him.

"Akaashi-"

"I know." He walked ahead quickly, straight into the room. He pushed the chair away and found Bokuto's side in bed.

Frail, shaking fingers pushed through his own black and white hair in an attempt to calm himself down, but another thunder clap sounded, louder that time. Bokuto flinched hard enough to make the bed shake.

"F-f-u-ck." His voice broke in terror.

"Look at me, it's going to be fine." Akaashi spoke in a calm, slow voice. His hand took Bokuto's own, and he held it gently. It was cold and shook in short bursts. "You will get through this. You always do."

Staring down wide-eyed at the floor of the hospital room, Bokuto fought to find words.

"Akaa-sh- d-don't-" Bokuto struggled with his breathing.

"Don't what?"

"Don't l-le-leave m-me..."

"I won't leave you." He moved closer, his other hand taking hold of Bokuto's. "Just breathe with me."

Bokuto nodded frantically and forced himself to comply with Akaashi, as he always did. He was the only person who could get him through those horrible moments, after all.

Heavy raindrops pelted against the window as Bokuto's frantic sounds filled the room. Akaashi was glad to have made it in time. That had been one of Bokuto's worst attacks yet.

"Hey, Akaashi?"

"Hm?"

"When do you think it will snow?"

"I don't know... Snow falls at random."

"Yeah, but... Do... You think it will snow soon? Or maybe January?"

"I hope so. That would be nice. Tokyo needs a little more snow now and then."

"Yeah... Yeah. When it falls, I want to go out and stand in it."

Akaashi sat cross legged in the seat adjacent to Bokuto's bed. He looked up at the sickly one when he'd said those words, trying to meet his gaze, but ultimately finding no yellow eyes to look into. Bokuto had his head turned away.

He was staring outside at the white clouds that shrouded the skies, mesmerized by just how colorless it made everything seem. It was one of those "White days", as Bokuto liked to call them, so he paid much more attention to the world beyond the glass than he did to his own confined life in the hospital. Bokuto breathed in deeply, the sound filling the small space around them. The bedsheets crumpled beneath his hands.

"Are you sure you should be going out in the cold like that?"

"I think I can handle it."

Akaashi didn't want to bring up the fact that Bokuto probably would no longer possess the ability to walk by the time any snow did get a chance to fall, so he kept his mouth shut. He rubbed his hands together weakly and tilted his head to the side.

"I guess you can... Just as long as you're feeling better."

Bokuto scoffed. It was a quiet sound.

"I am. Stop asking already. That was six days ago."

"I know, but it was bad."

"It passed." Bokuto turned his head, the pillow crumpling under his neck. He looked at Akaashi with heavy lidded eyes. He was extremely pale, and somehow thinner than before, but he kept that same smile on his face. "I'm fine now."

Akaashi couldn't help but smile back at him. He leaned his chin against the palm of his hand and chortled.

"Or at least as fine as you can get."

Bokuto stared at Akaashi sharply. His lips quivered before he could form his words.

"Sh...ut up." A stronger laugh broke out from him, rattling his body as he lay down in bed. "I look... Like shit, I know."

Akaashi found himself laughing along with him. His quiet chuckle was louder than Bokuto's wholehearted laugh.

"You don't. You don't look like shit." He tried to hide his grin with his hand, but it was still visible from the gaps between his fingers.

Bokuto reached a hand out, aimlessly trying to swat Akaashi's own hand away. He tried to aim for it at the very least, but found it difficult to. Still, he continued.

"Don't cover that."

"Cover what?"

"Your smile."

"Why? It isn't anything spe-"

"I barely ever see it." Bokuto's fingers touched at Akaashi's knuckles. That was enough for Akaashi to remove his hand from in front his mouth slowly, moving it to rest it over his chin. He smiled down at him.

Bokuto's eyes stared forward with an engrossed gaze, his yellow hues taking a mental picture of what he probably would never see again. Many words dashed through his mind, but he could only think of three that would be best for him to say to Akaashi. He tried to open his mouth to say them, but he performed another action instead. Unconsciously, his hand grasped Akaashi's own, and he dragged it down with his lack of strength, causing both of them to startle. Bokuto's eyes widened.

"I- I thought you would... Hold it up-"

"It was sudden." Akaashi stifled a laugh. "It caught me off guard."

"I didn't mean... To..."

"It's alright." He smoothed his thumb over Bokuto's knuckles. "I'm... Holding it now."

Silently and almost in fascination, Bokuto stared at Akaashi once again, longer this time before he looked up, then down, then away. He turned his head towards the window, away from Akaashi. He couldn't face him.

Pursing his lips timidly, Akaashi ceased to speak. He studied the back of Bokuto's head, eying the messy strands of black and white hair that overlapped each other. His green eyes then fell to study his paling skin; his veins were easily noticeable now, and they bulged from beneath his flesh whenever he moved. Akaashi's eyes lowered, focusing on the arm that was attached to the hand that he was holding.

He studied the small needle that was lodged into Bokuto's forearm, eyed the thin tube that was attached to this, and followed it up to the bag of IV fluid that hung above his head.

Whatever was left of Akaashi's smile faded.

Ever since Bokuto's last panic attack, it had suddenly become more difficult for him to control his words, movements, and actions altogether. Such a task as easy as swallowing was now a problem for Bokuto, too, and after many failed attempts at keeping his food down, or getting it to go down in the first place, the nurses found it would be best if Bokuto received nourishment the only other way possible, and that was through a tube.

Over the span of the six days, Akaashi found that the only things Bokuto could manage to swallow were small snacks, like grapes, ice cubes, and Pocky Sticks that were specifically strawberry flavored. Other than those things, Bokuto found it nearly impossible to stomach anything else. His only other choice was to lie there and accept whatever it was the IV liquid had to offer him.

Looking back to Bokuto, he was relieved to see that he still had his attention on the window. At some time while Akaashi was spacing out, the blue blanket that surrounded Bokuto had been pulled up just below his chin, with only his arm hanging out to hold onto Akaashi's hand. Bokuto's breathing was quiet, and his hand never really remained still for a long time. It would shake every so often, and each time it did, Akaashi would squeeze lightly in response. This was their unspoken communication.

It was Akaashi's way of letting Bokuto know that everything would be alright, and this would always comfort him, no matter the situation they were in.

They both found it easier to believe in that lie than to accept the truth of what was to come.

On the numbingly cold day that was January 3rd, at 8:04 PM, snow had fallen for the first time that year. Bokuto was the first to notice this, but had also been the last to say anything about it.

It wasn't until Akaashi looked up from his laptop screen that he realized it was snowing heavily outside. His eyes lit up, intent on informing Bokuto, but when he turned his head to get a look at him, instead of being greeted by an over enthusiastic friend, he was presented with an unfazed expression upon Bokuto's weary face.

Akaashi frowned.

"Bokuto? Don't you see it?"

Looking up from the laptop screen, Bokuto directed his attention to Akaashi.

"Wh...?"

"The snow? It's snowing outside."

Bokuto turned his head to catch another look out the window. Surely enough, snow was falling, and in chunks too, but this did not grasp Bokuto's attention. Frankly speaking, it had no affect on him in the slightest. He managed a feeble shrug and turned to continue on with the movie that he'd watched for the thirtieth time already.

Akaashi was genuinely confused.

"I thought you were waiting for the snow. I thought it was what you wanted..."

His eyelids drooping and then snapping open again, Bokuto made a small sound.

"Mnh-... I... See it... All the t-ime."

Just then, Akaashi's lips parted in realization. Bokuto's hallucinations had become such a part of him, that he thought the snow outside was just another mind trick. He breathed in sharply.

"It's not a hallucination, Bokuto. It's actually snowing."

"..." Bokuto looked up to stare out the window again. There was a longing in his eyes that Akaashi couldn't stand to see. With barely an ounce of strength left, Bokuto pulled himself up a tad to get a better look outside. Curiosity had sparked within him. He wanted to know if it was real or not. He hated how difficult it had become for him to tell apart the real things from the fake ones.

"I'll show you." Akaashi stood from his seat and walked to the windowsill. There, he parted the glass slightly. A gust of icy wind charged its way into the room in an instant, draining the warmth from everything it touched.

Bokuto's skin crawled, goose bumps pimpling his porcelain surface. He pulled the thick blanket over himself with much effort.

Swiftly, Akaashi closed the window, having gathered just enough snow off the edge for him to show to Bokuto. He strode to him quickly, cupping the already melting snow in his hands. Bokuto held out his own, eager to see if it were true.

"See, look." Akaashi placed the small, white compressed lump of snow into Bokuto's palm. This earned a gasp from him. Bokuto stared down at the white clump of melting ice, and with one finger, he pressed against it to watch it fall apart. The tiny snowflakes deteriorated in the warmth of his palm, leaving a small puddle behind.

A gasp escaped Bokuto. His eyes widened as much as they could.

"Akaashi!"

"I know."

"Take me... Outside!"

"It's freezing." Akaashi murmured the words and looked Bokuto up and down. He was nothing more than a blanket with a head. "You tremble when it's seventy degrees in the room. Right now, it's about... Ten degrees outside."

"Please, Akaashi."

Pressing his lips into a thin slab of a line, Akaashi shook his head once more. He found it much too difficult to say no to Bokuto, but it had to be done.

"I can't..."

"But why?" Bokuto's spirits fell, his frown deep.

"That weather will only hurt you. You need to be protected."

"F-from... What?" Bokuto stared at Akaashi, his features having gone from disappointed to unaccepting.

Akaashi drew in a breath, but found that he couldn't say anything. He watched Bokuto with a wary gaze, unaware of what he was to say next.

"I'm already in... Death row. I can.. B-arely speak. I can bare-ly walk... I can't eat. I can't... Sl..eep. The l-last thing you..." He clenched his jaw, frustrated with himself and the words he spoke, "... You... Need to do.. Is worry about me... C-atching a... Cold."

"Bokuto."

"C... Cold or n-not... I'm still... Not going to last v-... Very long. So please... Let me have this."

His eyes were glued to Akaashi's, and Akaashi found that he was unable to look away. Bokuto's eyes said everything to him. He translated all that his words could not.

Akaashi looked down and away from Bokuto, then back to the window.

"... I think the window will be as far as we can go." He said in a hushed voice.

"That's... Fine with me." And just like that, a smile found Bokuto's face again.

Akaashi sighed to himself, frustrated with how easily he'd given in to Bokuto's begging. But as he thought of it, he figured he couldn't be blamed for it. He didn't want to be the one to say no to someone who had little to nothing left in his life.

There was that, and the fact that Akaashi couldn't help but find Bokuto's smile endearing, no matter how sickly he looked when he wore one.

"Come on..." Akaashi reached a hand out to help Bokuto to his feet. He urged him to keep the blanket around him, but Bokuto insisted that he leave it behind. He held onto the IV stand with one hand and Akaashi's hand with his other as he hobbled over to the window. Bokuto's hands were as cold as ice, causing Akaashi's concern in him to grow even more. But no matter how much he worried for him, Akaashi continued on their way to the window at a slow and steady pace until they finally made it.

Once there, Bokuto pulled his hand from Akaashi's and leaned it against the windowsill. The air was bitter and cold, and it hit Bokuto like a slap to the face as another gust of wind forced its way into the hospital room. This did not faze him, however, as Bokuto only closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, allowing the burn of the winter air to fill his lungs. When he exhaled, a puff of smoke left him. Bokuto stuck his head out of the window slightly and kept it there as the snowflakes fell all around him.

"Don't do that." Akaashi pulled Bokuto back inside. He expected to hear a whine of resistance from him, but instead received nothing. Bokuto only complied and stuck his entire arm out instead, watching as each individual snowflake passed around his limb, as if none wanted to touch him. On occasion, one or two would land on him, and he would draw his hand in quickly to try and see if he could make out the small pattern on them. He would study them for quite a while until they melted and left behind nothing more than a droplet on his arm. After this, he would repeat the same process, paying little to no mind to the freezing cold that surrounded him.

Akaashi watched Bokuto, mesmerized by his actions. He almost portrayed the behaviors of a child, sticking to an activity and refusing to let it up, repeating whatever he was up to without having anyone to tell him to stop. Akaashi furrowed his brow and looked outside, away from Bokuto. That familiar feeling of dread was rising from deep within him, something Akaashi wanted to forget. He placed one hand on the windowsill and squeezed, his knuckles going white.

They shared another moment of silence, something that occurred more often than Akaashi would have liked. Though Bokuto's speaking skills weren't as good as they used to be, he was still the more talkative one out of the two. So whenever he went silent, an unwelcomed feeling of discomfort found its home within Akaashi. He wanted to rid himself of this feeling, rid himself of this silence, so he searched his mind in haste for any word that came to mind. He needed something – anything – to say to Bokuto, just so that he could liberate himself of the horrid feeling that threatened to overtake him.

"You know... I never asked." Akaashi managed to say, staring out into the distance. "Why are you so fond of the snow, Bokuto?"

He waited for an answer, but did not receive one. Unnerved, he spoke up again.

"I mean, in your state now, it's a bit clichéd, don't you think?" It was his attempt at brightening the mood, or "being funny," as some called it, but alas, his words had fallen flat on the ground as he received another silent reply from Bokuto. Akaashi frowned deeply. He turned his head to get a clear look at Bokuto's face, but instantly wished he hadn't.

In his silence, Bokuto wept to himself, fat tears rolling down his cheeks in numbers. The hand that supported his weight against the windowsill trembled without pause, and his other remained outside, shaking in the cold dead of night. Several flakes had gathered on the outstretched limb, but they were not quick to melt. They settled there, deeming Bokuto one of them for the remainder of their frozen lives before they eventually melted or fell away.

Akaashi stared at Bokuto, opened his mouth to say something, but found that he couldn't form even one simple word. Realizing this, Akaashi decided to take action instead and reach out to comfort him, but not even this he could do. His arms and legs were stiff, as were his eyes. All he could do was stare at the melancholic performance that played out before him.

Do something... Akaashi closed his mouth and swallowed.

Do something... Anything .

Akaashi's body didn't respond.

He could only watch as those tears fell at a faster pace, down onto his hospital gown and onto the floor. The light that came from outside reflected off of Bokuto's teardrops, lighting his face up in the most gentle of ways. Eventually, Bokuto drew back his hand and let it fall to his side. He hung his head and tried to keep his crying controlled in the best way possible, but this proved to be very difficult as sobs broke out of him, causing his entire being to shake.

After a moment of trying to gather himself, Bokuto choked out two simple words with quivering lips.

"Why... me..?"

Akaashi stared on as his mind searched for words. He found some and said them without a second thought.

"Because life is unfair."

Bokuto reached up a cold, frail hand to wipe at the mess that was his face. "I w...anted to do s-so many things..."

"I know." Akaashi balled his hand into a fist, mentally scolding himself for the present lack of emotion in his voice.

As Bokuto backed away from the window, Akaashi was quick to close it, locking the bitter night air out of the room for the remainder of the night. He then reached out and took hold of Bokuto's arm to help him back to the bed.

Once they'd reached it, Bokuto resumed his usual position and wrapped the thick blanket around himself, then turned away from Akaashi. He watched the window quietly, paying no mind to his visitor, or so Akaashi thought. In a matter of minutes, just as Akaashi had started to fidget, Bokuto spoke up.

"Akaashi..."

"Yes?" His undivided attention was on Bokuto.

He hesitated for a moment, but finally spoke up. "I don't want you to visit me anymore."

Akaashi's eyes squinted to the words, and he leaned forward in shock. "What?"

"Please... Don't visit me... Anymore."

"No." Akaashi stood from his seat.

"Please-"

"No. It's a little too late for that, Bokuto." A shiver racked Akaashi, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand.

"Akaashi, please..."

"No is my final answer." He stalked over to the other side of the bed, where he would be able to look at Bokuto's face. Once Bokuto noticed this, he turned his head and slowly rolled away. Akaashi's eyes widened, his emotions now falling victim to a strange mix of fear and fury.

"Bokuto, what is the meaning of this?"

Bokuto didn't respond. He remained in the same position and only moved his hand to wipe at his face again.

"Answer me."

Sucking his teeth, Bokuto pulled the blanket up to just beneath his chin. It took some time, but he finally answered.

"I don't want you... to grow... any m-more attached to me th-than y-you already are."

Akaashi nearly scoffed. "What makes you think I'm attached to you? I never said that I was."

This time, Bokuto directed his attention to Akaashi. He wore a grimace upon his reddened face.

"Sh-shut up, Akaashi..." He breathed in deeply, frustrated with himself and the gradual growth of his speech impediment, but continued on. "I know... You hate hosp-itals. Don't... Come telling m-me now that you... Have only been... coming here every day because y-you wanted to."

Akaashi had nothing else to say. He stared at Bokuto with his lips parted, as if he were going to speak, but ended up speechless.

"I know that... You care... Ev-... Even if it's just a little bit." Bokuto covered his mouth and coughed suddenly. He found that speaking was taking much more energy than he thought. Still, he continued to talk. "I don't... Know much about this... Disease. Partly be-...cause I was too afraid to read up on it. But... I know I don't have... much time left." His frustration slowly faded, and all that was left behind upon his pale face was a look of defeat.

"One, maybe two months at most, if I'm lucky. That's... How long I know I have... Left."

The air around Akaashi thickened, and suddenly he found it difficult to breathe.

Bokuto looked down and twisted his lips to the side. "I heard the doctors talking. They d...on't know how to... H-heal me, so..." From beneath the blanket, Akaashi could see Bokuto's shoulders rise and fall. "It's just... A slow, downhill ride f-f...rom here. And I d-don't want you to... See it all h-hap...pen."

Bokuto lay there glass-eyed, his welled up tears glinting in the dim lighting of the room.

"I don't... Want you to... Watch me decay."

Small tears spilled out of Bokuto's eyes and rolled down his hauntingly placid features. "So I figured if you left now... You... Wouldn't have to... And it wouldn't h-hurt so much..."

Once again, that crippling spell took hold of him, and Akaashi couldn't move, nor could he speak. All he could do was watch in muted anguish as Bokuto finally accepted what had become of his short lived life. Akaashi realized that those smiles he'd seen before were smiles of denial – forced grins that tried desperately to trick Bokuto into thinking that everything would be fine. But he couldn't keep it up forever. Not in the state that he was in. Bokuto had always been struggling to keep a positive front, but inside, he was falling apart all along.

Akaashi knew this now.

In an attempt to move, he tapped his fingers against his legs at an impatient pace. He was trying everything he could to psych himself into doing at least something to let Bokuto know that he was there for him.

Do something... As if he were one of the living dead, Akaashi forced one leg forward, then the next, until he was touching the bed side. He pushed his negative thoughts aside and sat himself down in bed, right next to Bokuto. Akaashi did not give him time to react to this as he moved closer still, and when he was close enough, he lowered his head to lean it on Bokuto's shoulder.

Akaashi squeezed his hands together to keep them from shaking uncontrollably.

"I'm not leaving, Koutarou." His voice was hushed, gentle. "And nothing you say will make me leave."

Bokuto kept silent. Not a word left him, even as he reached a hand up to wipe at his face again. He only sniffed on occasion, and shifted in place, but never did he say anything to oppose Akaashi's decision.

He was glad.

Akaashi turned his head slightly, his cheek gently resting on Bokuto's shoulder. He took in a slow, deep breath and closed his eyes, and his eyebrows knit together for only a second. His hands quivered as he dug his nails into his knuckles.

Bokuto no longer smelled like a hospital.

Bokuto smelled like... Home.

The reflection of ending movie credits could be seen in Akaashi's eyes as they scrolled up along the screen of his laptop.

Sitting back, he reached a hand out and paused the movie that'd been on screen.

"So, how was it, watching the movie for the thousandth time?" There was almost a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Lying next to Akaashi, a ghostly pale Bokuto smiled.

"...Good..." Bokuto eased back and buried his head into his pillow. He looked in Akaashi's direction. It took a moment for Bokuto to focus on him.

Pulling his laptop close, Akaashi smoothed his finger along the mouse pad. He looked to the lower right corner of the screen. January 19th, 6:40pm.

Akaashi pulled a solemn face and closed the laptop. He moved in his seat and sat straight against the head of the bed, then looked down at Bokuto.

His tired eyes were on Akaashi. He was grinning.

Forcing a smile of his own, Akaashi tilted his head only slightly.

"What are you smiling at?" He reached a hand out and touched Bokuto's forehead. He was cool to the touch – colder than most. Akaashi was quick to withdraw his hand, but he managed it discretely.

It took a moment for Bokuto to respond, but after some time, he managed some words.

"... Thank you..."

"Don't worry about it." A sheepish grin curled Akaashi's lips. "I know you're fond of that movie." He looked down at Bokuto as he said this, and glanced away soon after. Something told him that those words weren't meant for the movie, but Akaashi shoved this thought away.

He twisted his body to reach for the box of Pocky that sat on the counter. He opened it and pulled one out.

"Do you want one?"

Bokuto nodded and stretched a wobbling arm out. Akaashi placed it in between his fingers, and Bokuto retracted his hand to hold the biscuit snack against himself. He held it to his nose with some difficulty and breathed in the strawberry scent, then let his arm fall. He touched at it lightly, twirled it shakily between his fingers, and studied it, but he never ate it.

Akaashi placed the box back onto the counter and huffed softly.

"You seem to have grown more attached to that Pocky stick than me..."

Bokuto looked up, surprised, and glanced back down at the snack in his hands. It took time for Akaashi's words to reach him, but when they finally did, his face lit up as he broke out in laughter.

It was the weakest sound Akaashi had ever heard.

"Ah, I've finally said something funny." Akaashi chuckled with Bokuto, folding his arms in the process. "I told you I had my moments every so often."

Bokuto's laughter died down and he closed his eyes.

"R...arely..."

"Give me a break here." Akaashi's chortling had been dragged out for a few seconds longer before he, too, quieted down.

They remained speechless in each other's company for several minutes before Bokuto actually spoke up, his voice sounding like nothing more than a mere whisper.

"Keiji..."

Akaashi looked at him.

"M-hm?"

Bokuto swallowed thickly and toyed with the Pocky in his hand.

"Ask... M-me w... Why I like... Cloud Atlas so much."

Perplexed, Akaashi directed his full attention to Bokuto.

"Well alright... Koutarou, why do you like Cloud Atlas so much?" He watched Bokuto intently, curious to know what his answer would be.

Looking up at Akaashi with eager eyes, as if he'd been asked the question out of his own free will, Bokuto gladly answered.

"S... So you... Know in the m-movie when... Th... Characters die in one life...?" He kept his weary yellow eyes on Akaashi, waiting for him to nod. Once he did, Bokuto continued. "W-well... I... Like it when... Th-they find each other again... In another life."

Bokuto's voice was soft, measly, and carried no force to it. But as he spoke about his favorite scene, Akaashi could sense a powerful vibe coming from him... One that wasn't there before.

A hopeful one.

"It m-makes me... Feel like I'll h-have another life... One beyond this one... One that's better... Wh.. Where I can actually wake up to you... and be with y... you..." A smile played on his pale, thin lips. "One where we... Can... Live n...normal lives instead of... Living... This one."

Akaashi couldn't find any words to say at that moment. He stared at Bokuto and could only nod with whatever it was he thought he was agreeing with. He felt as if all the air had been squeezed out of his body by the words that Bokuto had spoken.

Of all the things that Bokuto found most endearing of the movie, Akaashi never thought it would be that.

Managing a miserable smile, Akaashi roughly rubbed his palm with his thumb.

"You know... I would like that. Very much." He spoke gently in Bokuto's direction.

"Me too..." Bokuto's eyes never left Akaashi. He stared at him intently and watched every move he made, to the point where this had captured Akaashi's attention.

"Why do you watch me like that?" His emerald eyes met golden ones.

Though the question was asked clearly, Bokuto didn't make a sound, nor did he move. He instead continued to stare in Akaashi's direction with hopeful eyes.

After what felt like the longest ten seconds of his life, a sudden shudder charged down Akaashi's spine, causing goose bumps to rise on his flesh. He held his breath, then proceeded to ask again.

"Koutarou... Why do you watch me like that?" It took every fiber of his being to keep his voice from trembling.

It was then that Bokuto's eyes blinked in realization, and slowly but surely, he moved his lips to answer.

"Just... Because..." He replied in what almost sounded like a surprised tone. "I didn't... Want you to leave. Sometimes when I... blink... you aren't there anymore..." Bokuto rubbed one of his eyes, then the other, and let his hand drop to his sides.

Akaashi tried to hide his frown. His eyes looked down at Bokuto's hands. They were thin and bony, and he could see those smooth blue veins curling over the bones beneath his flesh.

He reached a hand out and took Bokuto's hand in his own.

Bokuto's automatic reaction to the warmth was to curl his fingers around Akaashi's grasp. He looked at him and exhaled through his nose quietly.

Akaashi met his gaze, then looked down.

"Don't worry. I'm still here."

Bokuto nodded feebly against his pillow.

"I'm still... Here too..." His voice was weaker than before, if possible.

Akaashi nodded, with him.

"Yeah. You're still here, too..."

With what little strength he had left, Bokuto beamed.

Akaashi wished he could do the same.

New Message!

From: Kuroo (Sent January 31st at 2:25 PM)

[Hey, are you there?]

Akaashi:

[Yes, I am.]

Kuroo:

[How are things?]

Akaashi:

[Things could be better. Things could be worse.]

Kuroo:

[May I ask how Bokuto is doing?]

Akaashi:

[He's... Hanging on.]

Kuroo:

[Can he still walk? Or talk?]

Akaashi:

[No, he can't. He lost the ability to walk a little more than a week ago. His ability to speak left him soon after.]

Kuroo:

[I see. You really are straightforward, aren't you?]

Akaashi:

[I don't know any other way to put it. Sorry.]

Akaashi looked up from his phone after sending the message and turned his head to notice that Bokuto was once again staring at him with acute interest.

His eyes read, "Who's that?"

Stuffing his phone in his pocket, Akaashi shrugged.

"Just... Kuroo." He said the name with a lack of interest to try and soften the blow, but Akaashi knew that no matter how he approached it, Bokuto would frown when he heard the name.

And he did.

Bokuto looked down at Akaashi's hand. His eyes gave away just how much he missed his friend. Feeling an amount of guilt build up within his chest, Akaashi pulled out his phone just as quickly as he'd hid it away.

"Would you like for him to send a photo?"

Bokuto looked back up and thought for a moment, then nodded.

Playing off of this, Akaashi texted for Kuroo to send an image of himself for Bokuto to see. It took quite some time for a message from Kuroo to arrive, but when it did, Akaashi realized that he'd sent a video instead of what was initially asked for.

Akaashi leaned over in his seat to move himself closer to Bokuto. With one elbow on the bed, he held his phone so that the both of them could see. Bokuto stared at the screen with interested eyes, wondering what the content would consist of. Akaashi pressed play, and a video of Kuroo started to play.

He sat at home in bed, with a snug fitting shirt on and his hair an absolute mess.

"What's up, guys? Ahhhh I know you didn't tell me to send a video, but, I'm not someone who follows rules." He pulled a mock cool expression, but this was cut short as someone else spoke up.

From the background of the video, a low voice could be heard.

"What? Did you just... Say that to yourself?"

"No- wow, no, I'm taking a video."

Kuroo panned the phone to his side, and a blurred Kenma came into focus on screen. He sat cross-legged, with a shirt on that was two sizes too big, and a hat that looked as if it had been placed on his head without his consent. His head was down and his fingers moved swiftly over the buttons on the gaming device that he held in his hands. At one point, he reached a hand up to grab the beanie off of his head, and he aimlessly chucked it to the ground with force.

"Say hi, Kenma."

"Wait, what? I didn't hear what you said..." Kenma looked up and was greeted with a front facing camera. He quickly got up from the bed and walked off. "Don't record me."

"At least say hi," Kuroo called.

"Hi." The disembodied voice came from off screen.

"And that's Kenma for you..." Kuroo groaned as he repositioned himself in bed, and then he smiled. "But putting him aside... I hope all is well. Um..." He scratched at his cheek, just below his eye. "I miss you guys. I miss you especially, Bokuto. Um... Hang in there, alright? Akaashi, don't give him a hard time, or you and I are going to fucking fight."

Bokuto smiled wide to those words. He would have laughed if he could.

A grin ghosted across Akaashi's lips as well, but it was quick to vanish.

"Well, I guess that's it for now. I would have Kenma say bye, too, but-" He turned his head to look around, "He left... the room...? Yeah, he left the room. So I'll just say bye for him! See you, Bokuto. Keep it cool. And remember, you're the best." He held his hand up in a "peace sign", and the video ended with him on screen.

Akaashi sighed. He thought the video had gone by too quickly, but it had actually lasted a little under thirty seconds.

"For a guy who's name is Kuroo, he sure is a colorful one." Akaashi sat up and placed his phone on the counter.

Bokuto nodded and looked up at Akaashi once again.

"You guys were best friends, huh...?"

Bokuto nodded once more. He struggled to raise a hand, and slowly he twirled his index finger in circles at the side of his head.

Akaashi snorted softly and leaned back in his seat.

"Is he crazy?"

The smile on Bokuto's lips grew just a little more, signifying that he'd answered yes to Akaashi's question.

It was moments like these that made Akaashi realize just how much of an innocent soul Bokuto really was. Every now and then, it would come to him that Bokuto was only twenty years old, and that fact would only weigh Akaashi down even more than it usually did. It hurt him to think that Bokuto had barely even experienced the joys of a young adult's life before that crippling disease had taken a hold of him. It was frustrating, it was infuriating, and it was overall saddening, but Akaashi could not show any of this. Not in front of Bokuto.

So instead of putting on a sour expression, Akaashi only kept a neutral one, like he always did. It was his best and only way to hide his pain.

Several hours had passed since the message from Kuroo, and both Bokuto and Akaashi didn't do much.

Without a voice, Bokuto couldn't keep up a conversation as well as he used to, no matter how hard he tried. And even if he could speak, he wouldn't have been able to talk for long considering the state he was in. His movements were uncoordinated and slow, and the only sounds he could manage were meek and most of the time inaudible. At times, Bokuto would do nothing but lie there in bed, twitching back awake whenever his body tried so desperately to fall into the sleeping state that it once knew. When this would happen, he'd pull a frustrated expression for only a moment before his face grew too tired to hold it any longer.

When Bokuto was like this, Akaashi would normally look away to spare himself the sight of it all. But on rare occasions, there were times when he'd have no choice but to watch Bokuto fall apart at the hands of his illness, and he hated it.

For every time Akaashi would witness this, his mind would repeat one phrase, whether he wanted to hear it or not.

This is what a dying person looks like.

Looking down swiftly, Akaashi's sights locked onto his hands. He glared at them intensely with that same placid expression of his, making this look all the more unnerving. He wanted the thought to leave his mind. He wanted nothing to do with it. He forced those words away and replaced them with new ones. Ones that said, He's not dying. He's going to be fine.

But as he thought of it, as he narrowed down the true meanings of both phrases, he ultimately could not decide which of the two were more horrifying.

Akaashi closed his eyes and heaved out a sigh, feeling more and more hopeless with each passing second. He feared he wouldn't be able to pull himself out of this state, but then it occurred to him that he was not alone in this.

He felt the gentlest of taps against his arm, and he turned his head to meet eyes that were as concerned as they were exhausted. Akaashi sat up straight and composed himself.

"I'm fine." He commented softly, leaning back in his seat. "How are you feeling, Koutarou?"

Bokuto blinked slowly. This was his way of saying he was feeling alright. Not great, but alright.

Akaashi pursed his lips and nodded once. He found himself unable to say anything else, figuring that Bokuto wouldn't have anything to say either, but he was wrong.

Again, he felt the light tapping against his arm. Surprised, Akaashi gave Bokuto his attention again.

"Hm? What is it?" He turned the chair so that he was now facing Bokuto from the front.

Gazing up at Akaashi, Bokuto frowned and tried to form some words, but failed in the end. He looked around and moved his fingers, trying to make out a phone. Akaashi picked this up quickly, and he pulled his phone out for Bokuto to use. He opened his notes application and held the device in front of Bokuto. It was then that he started to inaccurately press at words that he was trying to make out. It took him some time to get down what he wanted to say, but after several minutes, he withdrew his hand.

Akaashi looked at his phone to read the sentence. It read:

"If I knew those words I spoke a week ago would have been my last, I would have chosen them more carefully."

Akaashi stared intensely at the screen, then tore his gaze away and looked back to Bokuto.

"You weren't happy with those words?"

Slowly, Bokuto nodded.

"Well then, if you had a second chance..." Akaashi hesitated. He almost didn't want to ask the question. "What would you have chosen to say?"

Just as those words left Akaashi's mouth, the clouds outside parted, allowing the setting sun's orange light to flood into the room. It illuminated both Bokuto and Akaashi, and they squinted at the same time. Despite this, Akaashi did not miss the look of slight nervousness that claimed Bokuto's features.

He was now more curious than he'd ever been before.

"Um... Bokuto? You don't have to say it now if you don't want to."

Bokuto shook his head.

"So... You don't want to?"

He shook his head again, stronger this time.

"Ah, you do want to say it now."

This time, a weak sound left Bokuto's throat through a closed mouth, and he nodded.

"Alright." Akaashi shifted in his seat, now timid. He glanced to the side. "How many words are there? In what you want to say, I mean?"

Responding as slowly as ever, Bokuto raised one hand. On that one hand, three fingers stuck out.

Akaashi felt his heart sink to his stomach. Another shudder threatened to rattle him, but he kept himself still, as difficult as that was.

"Three words? That's all?" Akaashi forced a smile. They felt mandatory now. "That's interesting..."

Please... Please don't say them.

He reached his arm out and held his phone in front of Bokuto for him to type.

Please don't type them... I don't want to hear them. I don't want to read them. I don't want to know them.

For what felt like an eternity, Bokuto typed the words on Akaashi's phone. His hand wobbled so much that it was impossible to decipher which letters he was hitting. Akaashi was close to holding his breath before Bokuto had finally drew his hand back. He let it fall over his stomach, and there it rested. His golden eyes searched the room for Akaashi. When he'd finally found him, those shining eyes of his lit up just a little more than usual. And with that glint came his smile. It was small and measly, but there.

Akaashi made sure to take a mental picture of this before he looked down and closed his eyes. He gripped his phone in his hand and took in a deep breath, filling his lungs with all the air that he could before he exhaled through his nostrils. He turned his phone so that it was facing him, opened his eyes, and read the three words that would haunt him forever.

... Or so he thought.

Akaashi's eyes widened slightly, and his eyebrows knit together in surprise. What sat upon the screen was not what he thought it would be, but rather... A simple compliment.

"You are beautiful."

Freezing in his seat, Akaashi read the words ten times over before he finally looked up. He could feel his heartbeat thumping hard against his chest, as if it wanted to break free. His eyes locked onto Bokuto's.

"You... Think that I'm beautiful?" He asked this in a tone of disbelief.

Mustering a weak nod, Bokuto's lips curled at the sides just a bit more. With this, he raised a quivering hand and his index finger. He was trying to tell Akaashi something else.

Guessing quickly, Akaashi muttered, "One?"

Bokuto kept his finger up, then moved his hand to point it at himself. He did not give Akaashi time to voice his guess as he then moved his finger to point at his eye, then finally at Akaashi.

Weakly, Akaashi parted his lips. He almost couldn't find his voice, but when he did, he tried his best to keep it from shaking.

"Since... The first day you saw me..."

To this, Bokuto's arm fell and rested lightly on his stomach. He did the only thing that he could and nodded again, then closed his eyes, and slightly turned his head away.

Akaashi watched curiously as Bokuto's lips quivered into a wide grin, and as the light captured his features, Akaashi realized just how embarrassed Bokuto actually was.

His face glowed the quietest shade of red, and he tried to hide it from Akaashi. It seemed that, after finally hearing his pent up thoughts aloud, they had frayed his nerves more than he thought they would.

Seeing this display unfold before him, Akaashi could barely think. His heart beat a mile a minute, he found it difficult to swallow, and one of his legs bounced up and down rapidly. He didn't know how to react, didn't know what to do or say, but as he searched for the right words to speak, or the right thing to do, Akaashi found himself doing something he didn't expect of himself.

A light hearted laugh bubbled out from deep within his chest, and the sound filled the room as soon as it hit the air. He laughed hard, or at least as hard as he could. His voice was gentle, light on Bokuto's ears. It caused him to open his eyes and look in Akaashi's direction, astonished. Those honey-hued eyes took in all that they could of Akaashi's laughing face. The way his lips curled at the corners, the way his eyes squinted just enough so that only a glint of green could be seen. Bokuto captured it all, and in no time, he found himself laughing too.

It was a quiet laugh. It was so weak and feeble, it could barely be heard, but it was there, and Akaashi could hear it, so that was enough for Bokuto. His face still wore the same shade of red, but he no longer minded this. He was happy where he was. He was happy that he'd admitted those words. He was glad that Akaashi found company in him.

Finding a breath between his laughter, Akaashi managed to speak.

"You're... Ridiculous." He said lightheartedly, his fingers trembling around his phone.

Bokuto gave him a look that could only be read as, "I am, aren't I?"

Slowly, Akaashi's laugh eased into a chuckle, and as he sat there in his seat, he looked down at Bokuto with placid eyes. A genuine expression made its home on Akaashi's features, and a hand reached up to push through his raven locks.

"Thank you, Koutarou." He whispered softly, his voice shaking in his throat. He reached a hand out and found Bokuto's.

Bokuto tightened his grasp in that automatic way he always did. He stared up at Akaashi with that smile that never seemed to fade. His eyes read,

"You're welcome, Keiji."

February 2nd.

What time is it?

Akaashi stirred in bed slightly and let out a weak grunt. He didn't bother to check. He didn't care.

The sky was already black. He figured it was already past five in the afternoon. So he didn't care anymore. He didn't care if it was seven at night, or eight at night, or twelve in the morning, or if the world's clock stopped moving altogether.

All he cared about was the fact that Bokuto was still with him, next to him, breathing, alive.

All he cared about was the fact that Bokuto Koutarou was still there.

Akaashi moved his head to the side and touched his forehead to Bokuto's neck.

Bokuto's movements were late to this, but he reacted nonetheless as he turned Akaashi's way to touch his chin to the top of his head. The soft touch of Akaashi's hair against his chin comforted Bokuto, and pulled him into a relaxed state.

Akaashi liked it when this happened. It would cause less spasms to grip Bokuto's body, allowing him to unwind more than he usually could. Akaashi didn't know why he had this effect on him, but he did, and that was all that mattered to him.

The day was exceptionally cold, but Akaashi was glad to know that the hospital's room provided enough heat to keep Bokuto from freezing over. But even so, Bokuto still suffered from trembling spells, and they would come in small, short bursts and last only several seconds before his body became too weak to keep it up.

Akaashi always made sure to hold Bokuto close and squeeze him tight whenever this happened, just to let him know that he was there for him. That he wasn't another one of those illusions his mind would create. Akaashi would also murmur quiet things to him from time to time, to keep up a small, often one sided conversation. He'd usually ask yes or no questions, ones that were easy for Bokuto to answer with a nod or shake of the head. But sometimes, he wouldn't answer certain questions, despite Akaashi asking them twice.

He wouldn't always get answers, Akaashi was aware of this, but he would still ask him things. At other times, he would just tell him things that were on his mind.

It was strange how the less Bokuto asked, the more Akaashi found himself saying.

Relaxing his head against the crook of Bokuto's neck, Akaashi blinked wearily and stared off into the distance. He focused on nothing... Something he remembered Kenma doing. His hand held onto one of Bokuto's very thin arms, and his thumb would occasionally rub up and down to comfort him. They shared the same navy blue knit blanket and huddled up beneath it, keeping each other warm in the best way that they could. As Akaashi lay there, quiet, listening to Bokuto's strained breathing, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Koutarou?"

He spoke just loudly enough for Bokuto to hear him. He felt him move against his head in response, so he continued. He drew in a deep breath and blinked away the stinging in his eyes.

"I want you to know that... I don't regret meeting you."

Bokuto didn't move much. He just breathed now.

"I am... Very happy to have met you. And to have gotten to know you..."

Akaashi paused for a long moment and said nothing for a while. But then he spoke up again.

"So... Thank you, Koutarou, for talking to me me in the hall that day... And asking me if I was alright. Because I wasn't, then. But... I am, now."

Slipping his head down to Bokuto's chest, Akaashi leaned against his frail frame. Akaashi listened to the quickened rate of Bokuto's still beating heart, and knew that this was his response to his words.

Akaashi closed his eyes against him. He found he had nothing more to say. He instead allowed his actions to speak for him. He pulled himself closer to Bokuto, and nudged his face into the warmth of his neck. He could feel Bokuto's chin rubbing against the top of his head, like it always did. It never failed to comfort Akaashi. He breathed in that familiar scent that he'd grown so attached to, then exhaled quietly against Bokuto's prominent collar bone.

Akaashi could feel a weak, ailing arm pull itself up to rest upon his shoulder. To this, he shifted in closer and allowed his body to relax. His breathing evened out and in no time, he could feel himself slipping, slowly, into the warm grasp of sleep, unable to resist.

In a daze, Akaashi's last words were, "Good night, Koutarou," before he slipped off into a deep sleep.

He dreamt of nothing in particular that night. He suffered no nightmares, nor did he see anything remotely close to a dream. There was nothing. There was only blackness.

Akaashi woke up to the feeling of sunlight against his face. It was warm on him, certainly something that one would find comforting, but as he stirred in bed, he was certain that something was off.

He kept his eyes half-lidded and his movements reserved, clinging onto the false hope that Bokuto wasn't moving because he didn't want to wake him. But Akaashi knew that this wasn't the case. He just didn't want to accept it.

Stretching out a trembling arm, Akaashi took hold of Bokuto's hand. He shut his eyes and squeezed his palm. It was cold. His hand trembled harder with each passing second, as if the movement would cause Bokuto to wake up. Akaashi's face buried into the crook of his neck. He nudged the bridge of his nose against the cool skin. His lips brushed against his collarbone in desperate search of that familiar warmth. Both hands had clasped around Bokuto's own now, quavering without pause. He couldn't find his pulse.

Devastation weighed down on Akaashi in that instant. It was a surreal feeling, one that he could never in one million years describe. It squeezed him, threatening to crush him from the inside out. The pain seared itself into his soul, hindering him, rendering him speechless to a point where he no longer knew what words were.

A sob wretched its way out from Akaashi's throat.

He tried desperately to hold it in. Tried so hard to keep himself together, but he knew he was too weak to pull such a bluff. Once the second sob had left him, he felt himself spiraling. There was no hiding it. He was undone.

His body jerked with each sob that was torn from him, his frame curling to bring himself closer. He held his face against the corpse's neck, just beneath the jawline, breathing in all that was left of Bokuto.

He had so many things he'd wanted to do with him, so many things he'd wanted to say, but all of those things seemed to have fallen away once the moment had finally come. Akaashi wanted to scream, but he couldn't find his voice. Not even a sentence could get past his suffering.

He kept himself against Bokuto and held onto him with what little strength he had left in him. He didn't get up to alert the nurses, or the doctors, or anyone in the hospital. He knew that once they found out, they would take Bokuto away from him.

So he stayed in place, holding onto Bokuto, taking in his company for one last time before he'd never see him again.

Once Akaashi had left the hospital, he never looked back.

He walked home that day with a balled up blanket in his arms, a burgundy scarf around his neck, and nothing more from the hospital. He held them against his frame in the twenty degree weather, and though many people gave him strange looks and watched him side-ways, none of this affected him in the slightest. The cold was no longer a factor to Akaashi. He couldn't feel it. His mind wouldn't allow him to.

He made it home without so much as a hello to his parents who sat in the living room. They asked him questions. He answered blatantly. They asked about the blanket and the scarf, but they never asked about Bokuto.

Akaashi was glad. It was a good idea to have never told them about him after all.

He ascended the steps to his room, balled his – no – Bokuto's blanket up into a lump, and dropped it onto his bed along with the scarf. He reached into his pocket to fish out his phone, and pushed call on one of his contacts. He held it up to his ear and waited for the other line to pick up. Once it did, Akaashi was greeted with a, "Hello?"

Akaashi hesitated. He swallowed thickly and looked out the window.

"Hello. Kuroo? It's Akaashi. Are you busy?"

Kuroo's voice was reserved and reluctant.

"No, I'm not."

"If it isn't too much trouble, may I come over?"

Kuroo was quiet on the other end. He already knew. He inhaled audibly, and Akaashi could hear a scratching sound. After a moment, he finally spoke. His voice was solemn.

"Sure."

Akaashi sat at the edge of Kuroo's bed, and he stared out the window without focus. Kuroo spoke to him, and Akaashi listened and often responded. But most of the time, he only sat there and continued to watch nothing.

Kuroo would have been concerned if not for finding out what had happened earlier that day. He was much like Akaashi, sitting on the same side of the bed, a good distance apart from his visitor. Those yellow eyes of his would often dart to the floor, then to the ceiling, around the room, and back to the floor, but he would never look at Akaashi.

He feared that if he did, he wouldn't be able to keep his emotions at bay.

"How did he look?" Kuroo asked with a hushed tone.

It took Akaashi a while to respond.

"When I woke up?"

"Yeah..." Kuroo looked down.

Akaashi let out a half-assed grunt and continued to stare forward.

"Pale. Sick. Dead."

"How did you find out that he wasn't... There anymore?"

"His entire body was relaxed. His head rested on mine with the weight of someone's who's unconscious."

This time, Kuroo was the one to grunt, the sound coming from deep within his chest. He was slow to speak up again, but did either way.

"Are you going to his funeral?"

"No."

The answer came so much more quickly than Kuroo thought it would. It shocked him as Akaashi continued.

"I refuse to go. My last memory of Bokuto will not be of him sharply dressed, pale, stiff, and stuffed in a casket, surrounded by a countless amount of people who did not care for him at all until the day they heard about his death. My last memory of Koutaro is already with me, and it will die along with me."

Akaashi's tone was monotonous, but Kuroo didn't fail to detect the venom that lined each word prior to his last sentence. He understood where Akaashi was coming from and didn't even think of holding his icy tone against him. Kuroo was just as bitter. He, too, did not intend on showing up to any funeral. He'd be furious with everyone in there, and he knew that the same pain burned within Akaashi, too.

Kuroo leaned forward and joined his hands together. He stared at the wall and bounced one leg up and down as his emotions slowly started to reclaim him.

"You know... Um..." He looked down and rubbed his neck roughly, leaving behind deep, red marks. "Bokuto, he... He really liked- uh- cared about you... He talked about you all the time when he first met y-"

"Don't."

Kuroo froze. With his hand clinging to his neck, he slowly looked up to find that Akaashi was staring back at him with vacant eyes, void of all known emotion.

"Don't, Kuroo. Just... Don't."

He swallowed thick, and turned his head to stare out the window again. Akaashi laced his fingers together and dug his nails into the backs of his hands. He was redirecting the pain.

"Sorry." It was the last word Kuroo murmured before he stared forward as well, having nothing more to say.

They shared each other's company in silence for what felt like the length of five minutes, and in that time, Akaashi never once looked to the side to catch a glimpse at Kuroo. It wasn't until he watched Kuroo's form double over in his peripheral that Akaashi did glance in his direction, and when he did, he was greeted with a quietly sobbing Kuroo, his face having been buried in the palms of his hands. Though is was delayed, Akaashi moved on instinct and sat near Kuroo. He placed a hand on his broad back and rubbed gently, hoping to comfort him and to be the stronger of the two. But as each second passed, Akaashi could feel his own pain building up more and more within him. He wished he could fight it, but he knew there was no possible way for him to.

It wasn't long before Akaashi had leaned his head on Kuroo's shoulder, as he, too, fell victim to the sorrow that slowly ate him alive.

It had been three days since Bokuto's passing, and surely enough, sleep did not come to Akaashi as easily as it used to. In the span of those three days, he had only acquired a little over four hours of sleep in total. On the first night out of the three, Akaashi flat out refused to get any rest in fear of suffering another night terror. But during the other two nights, he surely did make the effort to try and lull himself to sleep, but each time he did, he either found himself stirring awake from a strange dream, or lying wide awake in the middle of the night, half expecting to receive a message from Bokuto.

At times, Akaashi would look through the conversations that he'd shared with him. He'd scroll up, up, up until the first text, then would scroll all the way down again, waiting for the ellipse to appear on the lower left side of the screen. But always, he'd receive nothing.

That night was no different as Akaashi repeated this action for the twentieth time that day, his thumb scrolling up and down for minutes on end until he finally came to a stop. When he had, however, instead of shutting his phone off and trying to force a few hours of sleep upon himself, Akaashi stared at the phone screen longingly, and read the last messages that were sent between them.

Bokuto (Sent at 2:15 AM, December 20th):

[Hey! Akaashiiiii. Are you awake?]

Akaashi:

[Yes, I am. What is it?]

Bokuto:

[I'm excited for you to come over tomorrow!]

Akaashi:

[I visit you every day, though.]

Bokuto:

[I know! You never miss a day... Don't your parents ever ask why you come here so much?]

Akaashi:

[They think I'm interning. So they don't mind.]

Bokuto:

[Oh! Works for me. ٩( 'ω' )و]

Akaashi:

[I would hope so. It works for me as well. I'll be sure to bring my laptop when I visit. We can watch Cloud Atlas again.]

Bokuto:

[YES! PLEASE! Thank you, Akaashi!]

December 20th at 3:45 AM

[You probably fell asleep. Sorry for always messaging you so late. Sleep well, Akaashi! I'll see you soon.]

Akaashi frowned and felt that familiar pain pierce his chest. He re-read 'Sleep well, Akaashi!' and inhaled with frailty.

"I'm trying..."

He couldn't bring himself to read over the last four words of the text again and ultimately shut off his phone. He placed it on the counter near his bedside and buried himself into the blanket that he had so openly shared with Bokuto. Akaashi inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, his eyebrows knitting together as his brow creased. It still smelled like him.

Akaashi relaxed himself against his mattress and closed his eyes, a powerless yawn leaving him. His head eased into his pillow, and to his surprise, within a matter of minutes, he could feel himself slipping. It felt strange, not falling asleep against Bokuto's body, but Akaashi knew that he would have to get used to this form of sleeping by his lonesome once again. He just hoped that the night wouldn't bring him any malevolent dreams. All he wanted was to see Bokuto again, even if just for a second. An exhausted breath left him, and Akaashi finally fell asleep.

That night, he dreamt of the first night Bokuto had come over his home. He dreamt of how Bokuto had buried himself into the navy blue blanket to watch the movie that played on the laptop screen, and how he held Bokuto in his arms that night to aid him in his attempt to sleep. He could still remember the small details, like how Bokuto's starry shirt would slip off his shoulder every so often when he stirred in bed, and how the feel of Bokuto's weight on him would take his breath away. Akaashi could still feel the sensation of his wild white and black hair brushing against his cheek whenever he moved, and the warmth that came from him as he held him close. It was all still there, but there was something different about it all that puzzled Akaashi.

At one point in his dream, Akaashi looked out the window. The night sky had suddenly become a pale blue, and the warm orange glow of the sun slowly spread across the horizon. He turned his head slowly to look at Bokuto, and watched him as he lay in his arms. Akaashi said his name, and to this, Bokuto stirred awake. He turned his head and met Akaashi's gaze with weary, well rested eyes. He stretched and stifled a yawn, pushed a hand through the mess that was his hair, and relaxed his head against Akaashi's shoulder.

Sunlight broke into the room, cascading all along the walls and floor, and casting shadows all around. It lit Bokuto's face up just enough for Akaashi to take in those healthy features that were staring back at him. He felt his heart rate accelerate, and his throat tightened as his vision blurred. Bokuto beamed at him with a smile that spoke a thousand words, and his hand reached out to touch Akaashi's cheek. Akaashi felt his palm- warm, full, caressing the round of his face. He leaned into his touch, and his vision began to fade, his eyes welling with tears.

Bokuto leaned in and touched his forehead to Akaashi's. He was only a blurred shape now, but Akaashi knew he was still there. Bokuto spoke, his voice peaceful. Healthy. Whole.

"I found you."

A trembling, tender laugh escaped Akaashi. He smiled.

"You found me."

Notes:

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