blue lights || bokuaka

he deserved it

Bokuto Koutarou did not know how bad longing felt.

A tireless, endless longing that got him when he was asleep, just as badly as it did when he was awake. His thoughts were often scattered, and he'd find them on the walls or stuck in the corners of the ceiling where he couldn't reach them.

It's only been a couple of days, but Bokuto thinks the weight of everything made it worse as the hours melted into sunrises and sunsets. It hurt, relentless in the way it felt like picking healing scabs or walking along broken glass.

But he deserved it. Bokuto thinks he deserved it.

He'd gotten chewed out by Atsumu for being so damn stupid once he got home, and a phone call from Kuroo early this morning to add some more guilt on top of what was already festering over the past few days.

He'd tried calling Akaashi, filling up his recents list with missed calls, but to no avail.

And it was almost ironic, in the way Akaashi wanted nothing to do with him now, just as much as he did when they first met.

Even then, he couldn't find it within himself to let this ruin everything. He often liked to ignore his problems and hope for the best, but he knew this wasn't one of those situations where a miracle would fix everything.

He would at least try, especially with this one.

It was heavy, sitting on his chest when he was lying in bed, or slowing his steps when he went out for runs to try and clear his head. It was a huge and fucking horrible problem that was covered in barbed wire and Bokuto was scared of climbing over it, scared that he would hurt himself again with no progress made.

But he would at least try.

He is done brushing his teeth by the time Atsumu comes into his room without knocking, looking at himself in the mirror and taking in the red in his eyes, the creases beneath them, and how his cheeks were still puffy from this morning.

It's only been three days, but he thinks that losing sleep was taking a toll on him.

Atsumu's got a bowl of cereal in his hand, the other pulling the spoon out from his mouth.

"How're ya feelin'?" Atsumu asks, his voice doing that sing-song thing as he tries to test the waters, like he was afraid of stepping on a land mine he couldn't see.

Bokuto just shakes his head, not daring to look at Atsumu's eyes in the mirror.

"...Like shit."

Atsumu's eyebrows come together as he looks over Bokuto's reflection, thinking he looked like it just as much as he felt.

"Where're ya goin'?" He asks, and Bokuto runs a hand through his hair, still messy from sleep and he didn't bother doing anything with it.

"I think...I need to see him."

Atsumu brings the spoon up to his lips and blinks at Bokuto, not one to carefully choose words, nearly ever, but he thinks he should at the very least try to, knowing how vulnerable Bokuto was today.

"Are...ya sure he wants to see you?" Atsumu asks, and he thinks maybe he should forget about wording things carefully once Bokuto's face falls, and he rubs his eyes with the edge of his fingers, enough to make the silver spots dance around his vision.

"Fuck...I don't know, 'tsumu." He runs his hand through his hair again, tugging at the strands and trying to get rid of any doubt that he had for himself.

Bokuto's throat constricts and he tries not to think too hard about that.

Did Akaashi want to see him? What if he really didn't want anything to do with him anymore?