loving him loving her [bokuto koutarou]

seventeen;

srry for disappearing but ya girls got a bullshit (BS) degree lets gooo

-

"do you think (friend's name) is avoiding me?"

akaashi stares at his friend in utter disbelief.

"do you think she doesn't like me anymore?"

akaashi takes a deep breath, doing everything in his power to not say anything, desperately hoping for a topic change. bokuto takes the hint and is silent for a moment. but just a moment.

"...did she ever like me?"

"bokuto-san, i know you're upset, but (y/n) is in the hospital with a broken foot, so i don't think it's appropriate to worry about your relationship right now," akaashi finally says. bokuto's hair, like his mood, falls.

"yeah, you're right..."

they sit in silence some more.

akaashi twiddles his thumbs, waiting for (friend's name) to leave the hospital room, to give him the go-ahead to see (y/n). he knows it isn't too serious—she'll live, of course—but it didn't sit right with him to leave the hospital before seeing her at least once. so there they sit, waiting. in silence. except for the occasional sentence from bokuto.

akaashi glances at his captain and friend, noticing for the first time the light red mark appearing on his cheek. he couldn't help it. he snickered.

"what?" bokuto asks, suddenly self conscious. "what? akaashi? what is it? is something on my face? what's so funny?"

akaashi covers his mouth with his fist and clears his throat, pretending the chuckle never happened. "nothing."

"akaashi," he whines. "akaashi, what is it?"

"it's nothing." it was maybe a little extreme, but nonetheless, deserved, anyway. "did you want a snack from the vending machine?"

"a snack?" he asks, eyes suddenly lighting up, forgetting akaashi ever laughed.

akaashi reaches into his wallet to give him some bills, yet again. "yeah, knock yourself out-"

"akaashi! stop!" he says, scolding him. he denies the money. "as your upperclassman, i can't rely on your money all the time! it just isn't right!" he stands up, his chest puffed out. "i'll return." he then begins to walk away, but didn't get far before turning around and walking back to him. "um.. where is the vending machine?"

akaashi sighs and points in the opposite direction of where bokuto was going. "over there-"

"got it, thanks!" and he was off.

akaashi sits there and leans his head back against the wall, appreciating the silence. but, it was short-lived when he heard a loud sob coming from the room in front of him.

he can only imagine what they're talking about.

bokuto comes back around the corner, holding some bags of chips and candy in his arms. "i'm back!"

"please lower your voice, bokuto-san. you're in a hospital."

"i'm back," bokuto whispers, and hands him some of the snacks.

"thank you."

the door opens slowly, and the tear-stained, puffy face of (friend's name) comes walking through the door. bokuto immediately gets to his feet, an unopened bag of chips falling from his lap and onto the floor. "are you okay!?"

she sniffs, rubbing her eyes and nodding. "i'm okay. thank you. can you take me home?"

bokuto starts nodding his head immediately but after taking a glance at akaashi's face, which had a hint of a glare, he stops bobbing his head and raises an eyebrow. akaashi tilts his head slightly towards the open door of (y/n)'s hospital room, and bokuto nearly face-palmed. "actually, i'd like to see how (y/n) is doing first, but then i can take you home."

"actually, i can call someone. it's okay..."

"no, really, it'd be just a moment!" he reassures her, but even bokuto can see that, from the look on her face, she wants to be out of there as soon as she possibly can. "it won't be long at all!"

"actually, i think i want to be alone."

something in bokuto shifts. his smile falls, his hair falls, his mood falls. his whole body seems to slouch over, and akaashi can already see one of his moods starting. but before he can say anything to try and calm the air, bokuto straightens his slouched back and says, "okay," in a tone so calm and so neutral, that it didn't sound like himself at all. that somehow worried akaashi even more.

"i'll see you guys later."

"bye, (friend's name)-san," akaashi says politely giving her a nod. she turns and starts to walk away before bokuto gets another word out.

akaashi studies bokuto for a second before lightly grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the hospital room, where (y/n) sat, staring out the window.

"hey, how are you feeling?" akaashi asks, breaking the silence in the room. they sat there for a good few minutes, no words exchanged or even glances. she didn't even notice they were there until akaashi spoke.

"i'm fine," she says. she rubs her arm subconsciously, anxiously. "i'll live."

"that's good..." akaashi says. he glances at bokuto, who is still silent.

she also looks at him for the first time since being in the same room as him. she gives akaashi a soft, sad smile. "maybe we should be more worried about you, bokuto-san."

bokuto perks up at this and shakes his head. "don't worry about me! focus on healing!"

she smiles at him, but it was obviously forced as she asks, "is (friend's name) okay?"

his posture slouches in his chair, and he looks at the floor. his mouth opens and closes for a second, trying to figure out how to say her best friend looked awful and went home on ber own. how to explain that it was probably his fault, because he bought extra flowers, because he was inconsiderate. "um.."

"i think she'll be okay," akaashi says, trying to reassure both (y/n) and bokuto. she nods. "are you allowed to leave?"

"yeah. got to finish a few things, but yeah."

akaashi nods. "well, we can take you home whenev—"

"(y/n)!"

she looks up towards the door, her eyes suddenly wide as she realizes who it is. akaashi gives her a questioning look but follows her gaze and his eyes also widen a little.

the deep voice of a man broke bokuto from his depressed trance. he looked up to find a (e/c)-eyed man, slightly shorter than him probably, and (h/c)-haired woman, slightly shorter than (y/n), looking frantic and worried as they hurry towards the hospital bed where (y/n) sits, a boot on her foot and a noticablely increasingly anxious smile on her face.

the lady hurries over, takes (y/n)'s face in her hands, tilting it left and right in search for any scrapes or bruises. all while the man stares intently at the two high school boys, crossing his arms over his chest. the boys both cower further into their seats.

these are (y/n)'s parents.