Inked Skin - Bokuaka

Chapter 10 - Damage Done

Had he ever been spread so thin, trying to perform and juggle so much that he felt overwhelmed?

Of course he had, but it didn't stop him from feeling completely like a disastrous piece of shit.

What had he done wrong?

He hadn't heard from Koutarou in the two days since training, and it was worrying, to say the least.

Where had the promise of texting Keiji every day gone?

At first he had just thought that Bokuto had forgotten, but on second thought, that seemed inexplicable when taking his personality into consideration. He would never.

And so Akaashi texted him first, and then he texted another time, and another time, but no reply, and it was all starting to seem convoluted.

He paced the length of his bedroom, phone clutched tight in his hand as he wished for it to sing the song of his notifications bell.

But it remained the useless brick it was, and he flopped down onto his bed with a large sigh.

A large canvas full of drawings lay to the side of the room, violent with splashes of colour.

Why he had tried to paint his frustration out? It was habit. Paint streaks lay up his arms as proof of the turmoil.

How pathetic was he really? It was a sunday afternoon and all he had wanted was Bokuto to text him and maybe they could construct a plan to avoid his parents and escape his house.

A little taste of freedom.

"Why don't you put together a jigsaw puzzle?" his mother had asked, eyes examining and scanning over Akaashis arms in particular as he stood in her office.

Akaashi had nearly scoffed, but instead politely told her "no thanks" in a very "fuck off" tone before stalking back to his room.

He had made a poor attempt of asking if he could get out of the house for a bit. Of course it hadn't worked.

Usually she wasn't this strict. In fact his dad told him she wasn't impervious to letting Keiji have more freedom after talking to her over training camp.

That was until she apparently observed the news, watching her kidnapping stories and the new theorized motives behind mass murders and soul mate ambushing.

A recent one on the news had set her overbearing mind off, and now it was effecting Keiji.

He didn't know what had shaken her so bad, but he held a little sympathy at seeing her pale face and on edge movements all weekend, coming to check up on Keiji, always those straying eyes all over his body.

Looking. Searching for something. Any tell tale sign.

He had never heard the full story from his mother about the details of her past friend from when she was younger, but it never failed to choke back her words as she derailed the conversation elsewhere.

Keiji was stuck in between of understanding her reasoning for wanting to keep him safe, as well as being completely rebellious to it.

He wanted to live his life, risks or not. And his mother didn't seem to get that.

Suddenly the phone by his head gave a buzz, and he practically dived to pick it up, powering it on...only to see a message from Kuroo.

Devil Kuroo:
Hey Kash, hv you hrd from Bokuto?

He's not replying at allllll

Akaashi groaned, letting his arms fall to the mattress. He gave it a moment before shifting onto his side, arms curled up to his chest to type out a reply. At least Kuroo was alive.