blue lights || bokuaka

why not?

Akaashi is fucking exhausted.

He'd spent the weekend trying to distract himself with studying, which didn't work because he was too worried to stay focused for more than a few minutes at a time. Kuroo invited him to watch him play games against Kenma (which he lost horribly, to no one's surprise), but even then, Akaashi couldn't understand what was happening and didn't care who won, because Kuroo still hadn't heard from Bokuto.

Saturday melted by very slowly, Sunday even slower.

The anticipation to see Bokuto this Monday fell flat, as the lady at the front desk - whom Akaashi learned was named Kiyoko - said Bokuto didn't even come in today.

He sort of wanted him to get in trouble for it, that way he could feel bad, too, for missing work. He wanted Bokuto to feel at least a little terrible, so that way Akaashi didn't have to take on the load by himself.

Akaashi never really cared about something as much as he did in this situation, and he blames Bokuto for the whole thing.

Stupid street racer. He deserved to get arrested, really.

But Akaashi couldn't hold onto that.

Everything felt weird. It was strange to fall asleep and even worse to wake up, not knowing what was going on with him.

Akaashi sighs and watches the table, the sky cloudy. The clouds were ashy and invasive, as if hanging onto the burden of Akaashi's heart, too. There was no light streaming from the glass panes, and Akaashi almost longed for it.

"'kaashi~. Don't tell me you're still worried." Kuroo slides into the seat across from Akaashi, leaning forward on his elbows, two new, green drinks in between them.

Akaashi keeps his mouth shut and stares at the ice floating in his cup.

Both of them were done with work for the day, and with the two exams Akaashi had at the end of the week, Kuroo thought it was good to spend time here at this hour, when the cafe was mostly quiet and he could sort the floating pieces of his head out.

Which was fine, but the silence let his worries fester and he wasn't sure how much he liked it.

"I'm sure he's okay!" Kuroo pipes up again, his hair falling into his face as he shoots both of his hands up in the air between them. "He always is."

"It's his own fault." Akaashi leans back in his chair. "If he got arrested, then it's his fault."

"Ah, blame. That's one of the stages of grief, you know. Next is acceptance, and then you'll get over it for good!" Kuroo nods with raised eyebrows, trying to lighten the mood, and Akaashi sighs.

"I really hate you."

Kuroo squints and shakes his head in mock disappointment. "The lies you tell."

"Can we just go home? I'm tired." Akaashi cards his fingers through his messy hair and glances toward his drink, only halfway finished, while Kuroo's own was holding onto melting ice.

"Okay. Take your drink with you, it's good!"

And it was good, but Akaashi was too tired to sound convincing, thankful that Kuroo didn't mind.

~❀~

Walking down the sidewalk into their neighborhood was such a foreign feeling.

The apartments were all full, yet, it felt like nobody lived here. It's as if the two of them slipped past an invisible boundary and into another dimension, where time stopped altogether when you slept and the morning sun shined that much brighter when you woke up.