villains aren't born (darling, they're made)

chapter seven

Akaashi had just clocked out from a sixteen hour shift at the clinic and was slowly making his way to the train station. It had been a week since his fight with Suisei and he had kept his promise of doing KLD work from home.

He was itching to get back into the field, but he knew that his roommates were just looking out for him. So he kept busy by cleaning and organizing the bunker. He helped Kuroo clean his lab and he brought canned air and screen wipes to help keep Kenma's computer area clean.

He was in the bunker everyday practicing his hand to hand combat along with honing his gymnastics skills. He set up targets at various points throughout the bunker and would test his speed and accuracy. He'd even set up a moving target (Kuroo held up a piece of plywood and ran around the bunker) and had Kuroo and Kenma take turns pissing him off. They weren't the greatest at first. Only managing to be mildly irritating at best, so Akaashi gave them explicit permission to hit him where it hurts. And boy did they rile him up. He noticed that his accuracy decreased when he was angry so he worked on fixing that flaw.

Which brings us back to the present. The long days at the clinic, mixed with his grueling training, was taking a toll on him. The circles under his eyes were dark enough to be mistaken for bruises.

He stepped onto the platform, suddenly realizing that he had dissociated the entire train ride. The other passengers chattered loudly as he walked through the station. He couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him? Not exactly. It more so felt like he had caught someone's gaze. It happened more often than Akaashi liked to admit. Men and women would notice him and compliment him before ultimately asking him out. Akaashi always let them down politely and mentioned that he wasn't looking for anything.

But this felt different. He felt like whoever's gaze was on him wasn't caused by something as simple as attraction.

Before he could put a name to the feeling, a person with a ski mask ran past him, yanking the messenger bag from Akaashi's grip. It took him a split second to process what had happened before he took off running after the person.

"Hey stop!" He yelled, legs burning as he sprinted past people in the crowd.

"They stole my bag!" He yelled, hoping that someone could slow him down enough for him to catch up. He felt the tension of a sixteen hour shift weighing his legs down and no matter how hard he pushed himself, he couldn't gain speed.

Akaashi saw the person turn a sharp corner before he tripped and fell forward.

"Damn it!" He yelled, bringing himself to his feet and taking a few steps forward, failing to ignore the shooting pain in his ankle. He hunched over, taking deep breaths with his hands on his knees as he thought of everything that was in his bag. There was an extra set of scrubs, a phone charger, and his... wallet.

"Fucking hell."

Akaashi slowly limped towards a bench and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He pulled up Kenma's contact info and shot him a quick text.

Akaashi: Hey, some guy just stole my bag at the train station.

Once he finished sending the message, Akaashi leaned forward and held his head in his hands. Of course this had to happen right after an exhausting shift at the clinic. Why couldn't it have been when he was well rested? He's been known for evading law enforcement, why couldn't he chase after a simple thief?

A few minutes later, two pairs of feet appeared in front of him. He looked up and immediately noticed Suisei and a rugged looking man in a black hoodie in his grasp.

"Give the man his bag back." Akaashi then noticed the messenger bag hanging in front of him and he grabbed it.

"Th-thank you." He breathed out, hoping that the irritation he felt wasn't evident in his voice or on his face.