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There's a sharp shrill of the finishing whistle moments after Bokuto's final spike smacks against the wooden parquet of the court; signalling that they've done it, and they've won. It shouldn't come as a surprise to Akaashi anymore- Fukurodani is an extremely talented team, made up of players equally as talented. Winning is expected, but the feeling is the same each and every time. There's a rush to it, one Akaashi isn't sure he'd be able to find anywhere else. His hands feel clammy and he can hear the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears. His skin prickles and his face feels flushed and hot. He's sure people are cheering, but it sounds fuzzy, drowned out by his adrenaline fuelled high.
He knows, somewhere deep down, that this really isn't that big of a deal. After all, he's just a one of a fifteen player team, in which most outshine him. This is just one team out of the thousands in Japan; millions in the world. This is just one game. And yet, without fail, each time Fukurodani manages to win, Akaashi feels like his body is on fire. Tingling and rushing with adrenaline and the overwhelming, erratic sound of his breathing in his own ears. He feels as if the world is watching. Akaashi knows that he well never, ever be a star. And he's fine with that, He's not built for it. For one, he's bland. Sure, he's a good player, but isn't everyone? There's nothing going for him, other than the fact he supports Bokuto.
He faintly hears Bokuto's voice calling out to him, but it doesn't register in his foggy brain until he feels the impact of Bokuto's broad shouldered body collide with his. Bokuto's arms are wrapping around his body, grounding him. Akaashi breathes out and he thinks his face heats up even more, but he can't tell. Somehow, he manages to force his arms to grip at Bokuto's jersey. It clicks that Bokuto ran to him over anyone else. Him. He's pushed to the ground, but Bokuto's hand is cradling his head, as if he knows that their teammates will rush to him. He can hardly feel the impact of their teammates piling onto them. He can hardly hear their teammate's cheering and the sounds or the crowd clapping.
Akaashi's heart is pounding, and he hyper focuses into the fact the he's being pushed into Bokuto, skin-to-skin, Bokuto everywhere. He feels sweat trickle down his back, and everything around feels so warm its almost suffocating. Akaashi stares up at his face; he's beaming, cheeks flushed and pulled back in a wide, bright smile. Time feels irrelevant, and Akaashi feels himself become lost in Bokuto's expression. He's drowning in him, all 5 of his senses taken up by Bokuto, and everything feels just right. Akaashi feels as if he belongs here, surrounded and lost in the unsurprisingly caring hold of his best friend.
Bokuto's eyes are bright, but they're teary, too.
His nose is flushing a blotchy red and his lips are trembling. Bokuto's face buries into Akaashi's hair, and the shaking, shallow breath in is all Akaashi can hear.
Akaashi remembers suddenly, that this is likely the last public game Bokuto and the other third years will play at Fukurodani before they get buried by the pressure of life as adults after high school; that Bokuto will move forward, into a new era of his life, away from Akaashi. Bokuto will advance into stardom; Akaashi knows that much, and he'll be left behind. There's this cold, sharp pain in his chest but before he can process Bokuto's voice is clear by his ear.
"We did, Akaashi. We really did it, and you were so amazing ." Bokuto's voice has rough edges to it, a sharp brashness that often frightens little animals away from him. But in moments like these, there's an immediate and obvious softness to his tone, one that their teammates would laugh at. A gentleness that Akaashi knows Bokuto reserves for him and him alone. Akaashi feels his throat begin to choke up and he can only get out an unsteady grunt of acknowledgement before Coach Yamiji is hauling Bokuto and the rest of their teammates up and off of him so they can line up and thank the other team for playing against them.
Akaashi feels Bokuto gripping his wrist, pulling him up and he snaps out of his daze. Bokuto's hands are rough and they don't stay holding his for nearly as long as he'd prefer. Akaashi looks up as they line up facing the other team, and he tries not to take the crushed, defeated looks on their faces to heart. He knows what it feels like, but in order to win, someone else has to lose. It's alarming to see that a few players on the opposing team have their faces crinkled in barely hidden disdain towards Bokuto, who is paying them no mind at all, face in a wide grin even now. Akaashi doesn't understand how he does it; how Bokuto seems to constantly radiate positivity and comfort. Fukurodani bows, and Akaashi attempts to pulls his eyes away from Bokuto and to the court floor.
He raises his eyes safely back to Bokuto, watching as he steps forward to cheerfully shake the captain of the opposing teams outstretched hand. He can't remember the name of the other player, but he looks slightly nervous as he faces Bokuto, and rightfully so. Aside from everything intimidating about Bokuto physically, he's considered one of the best aces in Japan's Youth League at the moment. The nerves displayed on the unnamed captains face fade quickly as Bokuto smiles warmly shaking his hand excitedly, chattering about how it was an "extremely close game" and that the opposing team was "a really great play!". Akaashi turns to the side to fix the way his mouth is twitching up into a smile.
Akaashi feels Bokuto sliding into the seat beside him on their school's bus. Bokuto nudges his foot over so he can place his bag on the floor underneath them. It's comfortably quiet between them as Bokuto settles into his seat. Their teammates are talking in the other seats of the bus, and Akaashi is 90% sure a few of them are napping, too.
Akaashi lowers his voice, keeping their conversation quiet and private.
“You were really great, Bokuto. You’re something else.” He murmured, eyes flicking up to Bokuto's face. Bokuto preens in response, leaning slightly into him and matching his volume.
“Where would I be without’cha, Akaashi? I’m nothing without my setter.” Bokuto replied, laughing quietly as he messes up Akaashi’s hair before leaning back into the seat. Akaashi feels his face heat up and he scoffs, ignoring the pang in his chest at being labelled Bokuto’s. He rolls his eyes and shoves Bokuto’s hand away, running a hand quickly through his hair to tame it.
“You’re the star of the show. I’m sure you’d be fine with a different server. Besides, you’ll have to play with someone else once you graduate. Black Jackals, right?” Akaashi questioned.
“Something like that,” Bokuto replied dismissively, waving his hand. He purses his lips, falling silent as he frowns. Akaashi watches his face twitching. He bites his lip, raising a hand and placing it on Bokuto’s shoulder. Quiet for now, he rubs his thumb against his jacket sleeve, allowing Bokuto time to plan out what he’s going to say.
“I think you have the talent to go pro, Akaashi, I really do,” Bokuto starts, holding his hand up as Akaashi opens his mouth to protest. “Just let me say this.” Akaashi reluctantly closes his mouth and listens. “You have the talent, and we’re amazing together. Playing with you feels like nothing else I've ever felt. You know me better than anyone else, and you can read me like an open book at a moment's notice. You’re calculating and quick thinking. You cater to me and the mistakes I make whilst encouraging me to try harder without saying a word. In the pro scene, we’d be a duo unlike anyone else. Me and you. But I know you, Akaashi. I know that you’d never willingly seek out a celebrity or an athlete's life, and you’d rather watch me flourish as a result of you.”
Bokuto’s rambling, but it’s organised and clearly thought out. He takes Akaashi’s hand and leans closer, voice trembling slightly.
“Akaashi, I need you to know that no matter how athlete life treats me, no matter how much fame I get or how far I have to go, it’s because of you. You’re the reason. You make me succeed. Don’t doubt yourself or your talents when I'm gone. You really are a star to me, Akaashi.” He offers a nervous smile. “You're a protagonist in my story.”
Akaashi’s eyes widen and they’re stuck to Bokuto’s face. He looks nervous, and unfairly beautiful. His eyes are shining and Akaashi knows he'll make it weird if he stares too long. He can't bring himself to care. Akaashi opens and closes his mouth a few times as he stumbles over what to say, voice trembling. His heart is pounding in his ears, and he blinks quickly. It’s unfair that Bokuto knows him so well, like the back of his hand or the route the two walk everyday to school, or even which pillows Akaashi prefers when he sleeps over at Bokuto's home. And, somehow, he knows exactly what to say to reassure Akaashi time and time again. Akaashi’s lips curl into a smile and he pokes Bokuto’s forehead.
“You’re annoyingly sappy today,” He replies, laughing softly. “You still have a couple of months left until you graduate. Stop getting so sentimental.”