[27]

Akaashi sat at the edge of Kuroo's bed, and he stared out the window without focus. Kuroo spoke to him, and Akaashi listened and often responded. But most of the time, he only sat there and continued to watch nothing.

Kuroo would have been concerned if not for finding out what had happened earlier that day. He was much like Akaashi, sitting on the same side of the bed, a good distance apart from his visitor. Those yellow eyes of his would often dart to the floor, then to the ceiling, around the room, and back to the floor, but he would never look at Akaashi.

He feared that if he did, he wouldn't be able to keep his emotions at bay.

"How did he look?" Kuroo asked with a hushed tone.

It took Akaashi a while to respond.

"When I woke up?"

"Yeah..." Kuroo looked down.

Akaashi let out a half-assed grunt and continued to stare forward.

"Pale. Sick. Dead."

"How did you find out that he wasn't... There anymore?"

"His entire body was relaxed. His head rested on mine with the weight of someone's who's unconscious."

This time, Kuroo was the one to grunt, the sound coming from deep within his chest. He was slow to speak up again, but did either way.

"Are you going to his funeral?"

"No."

The answer came so much more quickly than Kuroo thought it would. It shocked him as Akaashi continued.

"I refuse to go. My last memory of Bokuto will not be of him sharply dressed, pale, stiff, and stuffed in a casket, surrounded by a countless amount of people who did not care for him at all until the day they heard about his death. My last memory of Koutaro is already with me, and it will die along with me."

Akaashi's tone was monotonous, but Kuroo didn't fail to detect the venom that lined each word prior to his last sentence. He understood where Akaashi was coming from and didn't even think of holding his icy tone against him. Kuroo was just as bitter. He, too, did not intend on showing up to any funeral. He'd be furious with everyone in there, and he knew that the same pain burned within Akaashi, too.

Kuroo leaned forward and joined his hands together. He stared at the wall and bounced one leg up and down as his emotions slowly started to reclaim him.

"You know... Um..." He looked down and rubbed his neck roughly, leaving behind deep, red marks. "Bokuto, he... He really liked- uh- cared about you... He talked about you all the time when he first met y-"

"Don't."

Kuroo froze. With his hand clinging to his neck, he slowly looked up to find that Akaashi was staring back at him with vacant eyes, void of all known emotion.

"Don't, Kuroo. Just... Don't."

He swallowed thick, and turned his head to stare out the window again. Akaashi laced his fingers together and dug his nails into the backs of his hands. He was redirecting the pain.

"Sorry." It was the last word Kuroo murmured before he stared forward as well, having nothing more to say.

They shared each other's company in silence for what felt like the length of five minutes, and in that time, Akaashi never once looked to the side to catch a glimpse at Kuroo. It wasn't until he watched Kuroo's form double over in his peripheral that Akaashi did glance in his direction, and when he did, he was greeted with a quietly sobbing Kuroo, his face having been buried in the palms of his hands. Though is was delayed, Akaashi moved on instinct and sat near Kuroo. He placed a hand on his broad back and rubbed gently, hoping to comfort him and to be the stronger of the two. But as each second passed, Akaashi could feel his own pain building up more and more within him. He wished he could fight it, but he knew there was no possible way for him to.

It wasn't long before Akaashi had leaned his head on Kuroo's shoulder, as he, too, fell victim to the sorrow that slowly ate him alive.

It had been three days since Bokuto's passing, and surely enough, sleep did not come to Akaashi as easily as it used to. In the span of those three days, he had only acquired a little over four hours of sleep in total. On the first night out of the three, Akaashi flat out refused to get any rest in fear of suffering another night terror. But during the other two nights, he surely did make the effort to try and lull himself to sleep, but each time he did, he either found himself stirring awake from a strange dream, or lying wide awake in the middle of the night, half expecting to receive a message from Bokuto.

At times, Akaashi would look through the conversations that he'd shared with him. He'd scroll up, up, up until the first text, then would scroll all the way down again, waiting for the ellipse to appear on the lower left side of the screen. But always, he'd receive nothing.

That night was no different as Akaashi repeated this action for the twentieth time that day, his thumb scrolling up and down for minutes on end until he finally came to a stop. When he had, however, instead of shutting his phone off and trying to force a few hours of sleep upon himself, Akaashi stared at the phone screen longingly, and read the last messages that were sent between them.

Bokuto (Sent at 2:15 AM, December 20th):

[Hey! Akaashiiiii. Are you awake?]

Akaashi:

[Yes, I am. What is it?]

Bokuto:

[I'm excited for you to come over tomorrow!]

Akaashi:

[I visit you every day, though.]

Bokuto:

[I know! You never miss a day... Don't your parents ever ask why you come here so much?]

Akaashi:

[They think I'm interning. So they don't mind.]

Bokuto:

[Oh! Works for me. ٩( 'ω' )و]

Akaashi:

[I would hope so. It works for me as well. I'll be sure to bring my laptop when I visit. We can watch Cloud Atlas again.]

Bokuto:

[YES! PLEASE! Thank you, Akaashi!]

December 20th at 3:45 AM

[You probably fell asleep. Sorry for always messaging you so late. Sleep well, Akaashi! I'll see you soon.]

Akaashi frowned and felt that familiar pain pierce his chest. He re-read 'Sleep well, Akaashi!' and inhaled with frailty.

"I'm trying..."