title: glide in soft, summer breeze pairing: bokuaka summary: bokuto grows to know akaashi over the years after his first encounter with the forest spirit. he expects to make a friend, but he doesn’t expect to fall in love. notes: based very heavily off of an anime movie. i don’t want to say which one publicly, in case it will ruin the movie’s plot and/or the fic for readers, but if you’d like to know, feel free to ask! technically written for kenmai because I needed someone to write at :^) I will post this on ao3 once I get my account!
7.
It’s the summer after Bokuto turns 7 that he meets him. He’s been visiting his uncle’s during the summer for a few years now—3, he thinks, but he can’t be sure.
He’s run off to play in the forest nearby, content to pick at grimy looking bugs and imitate the sounds of nature while he waits for his relatives to finish tending to their garden, not paying attention to where he’s going. He finds himself lost on the winding paths deep within the condensed shrubbery and trees after an hour or so of playing and begins to panic.
“Hello?” he calls out, because he’s scared and unsure of where to go.
No one responds and Bokuto’s breath catches in his throat. He has to find a way out of there.
He begins to run along the paths, stumbling every now and then as his legs catch on branches that litter the ground, and after what seems like forever and ever, he finally stops. He’s just as lost, if not more so than before, and his legs are tired and he’s hungry. He just wants to go home, and self-pity along with fear that is very real wells up inside of him.
“I’m never going to get back.” He begins to cry suddenly and in earnest, his sobs the loudest thing in the forested area. He is crouched down, knees pulled up to his chest as he hugs himself, and his cries wrack through his small trembling frame.
“Hey, kid,” someone speaks and Bokuto’s sobs cease out of shock. He glances up but doesn’t see anyone, and just before he’s about to start crying again, the voice speaks again.
“Are you lost?”
Bokuto turns towards the source of the voice once more only to find a young man hiding just behind a tree. He’s wearing regular clothing—a pair of fitted jeans and a v-neck shirt—but his face is covered by a traditional style mask with the markings of an owl painted onto it.
Bokuto is so overjoyed at seeing another human that he launches himself at the man.
Just before his tiny arms can wrap around the man’s legs, the man steps aside, and Bokuto falls to the grass beneath him with a loud “oof!”
“Sorry,” the man chuckles. “But you’re a human child, aren’t you?”
Bokuto nods at this, perplexed by the question.
“I’ll disappear if I touch a human,” the man says. Bokuto wipes his snotty nose on his arm and cocks his head up at the man.
“Disappear?”
“Yes. The forest god put a spell on me. I will no longer exist,” he explains. “I will vanish.”
Bokuto stares up at the man, wipes at his runny nose once more, and then sits up from where he had landed on the ground.
“Does that mean you’re not a human, mister?”
The man crouches down, offering the end of a stick to Bokuto, and repeats his earlier question. “Are you lost?”
Bokuto stares hesitantly at the stick then takes the end of it and pulls himself up.
“Yes,” he admits and his small voice is watery with unshed tears.
“Then I will guide you out of here.”
The man tugs at his end of the stick, guiding Bokuto towards the trail, and from there, they walk in silence for a few minutes. Bokuto has plenty of questions, but the forest is so still right now that he’s afraid to disturb it.
The man breaks it for him. “’Humans who enter the forest alone can never make their way out.’ Haven’t you heard that from the people who live in this area?”
Bokuto lowers his head, feeling chastised, and pouts up at the masked man. “But you were with me!”
They come upon the exit as he’s speaking and Bokuto is so genuinely happy to be out of the forest that he quickly scampers down the steps before whirling to face the person who had so generously helped him.
“I’ll come by tomorrow with a thank you gift, okay?” he calls loudly to the man that lingers just at the entrance. The man says nothing. Bokuto takes this as an acknowledgement.
He moves to set off towards home once more then stops.
“Ah!” he shouts. “I’m Koutarou! Bokuto Koutarou. What’s your name?”
They stand in silence with Bokuto staring hopefully up at the owl mask. The wind picks up, startling Bokuto, and when the man still hasn’t answered after a few more moments, Bokuto turns to flee, feeling a bit antsy.
“Keiji,” he hears. “My name is Akaashi Keiji.”
When Bokuto turns around to peek at the man again, no one is there.
—-
Bokuto does as he had said he would and shows up at the forest entrance the next day with a bag of summer snacks in hand.
Akaashi is there waiting for him.
“You’re here!” Bokuto exclaims and flings himself at Akaashi, yesterday’s conversations already forgotten.
Akaashi sidesteps him and Bokuto hits the ground with his face this time.
“I can’t touch humans,” Akaashi reminds him gently and Bokuto grins sheepishly up at him.
“Sorry…”
He blinks up at Akaashi for a few seconds before he brightens and holds his bag of treats up.
“I brought food as a thank you!”
Akaashi makes a small sound of acknowledgement and motions for Bokuto to follow him.
“C’mon,” he says and Bokuto scurries after him into the forest. They split one of the double popsicles Bokuto had brought, and when Akaashi lifts his mask up to bite small chunks of the frozen treat off, Bokuto can’t help but watch in interest.
They play for a bit, with Bokuto pretending to chase after Akaashi and when Bokuto grows tired, he plops down into the grass beneath his feet.
“Why do you always wear that mask?” he asks.
Akaashi stays quiet.
“Do you look like a monster?” Bokuto doubts this. He had caught a glimpse of the lower portion of his face earlier, and he had looked pretty normal.
Akaashi chuckles and pokes at Bokuto with a stick.
“It will be dark soon. Let’s get you back.”
It becomes a routine after this, for Bokuto to come by the forest for a few hours whenever he has free time. The two of them play tag, using sticks to jab at one another. Bokuto cackles gleefully the one time Akaashi trips over his own feet and ends up on the ground.
When Akaashi doesn’t stir, though, he grows concerned, and steps forward. Akaashi scrambles up towards Bokuto when he does and Bokuto shrinks back while shrieking. “No fair!”
They form a makeshift kind of friendship through all of their playing, and Bokuto thinks that this is the best summer ever.
—-
Bokuto is more quiet than usual. They had run around for a bit earlier, but he had grown tired rather quickly and asked Akaashi if they could sit at the water’s edge. They’re headed back towards the entrance now and Bokuto has his hands stuffed into his pockets and a frown on his face.
“I won’t be able to visit tomorrow,” Bokuto starts without peering up at Akaashi. “I actually won’t be able to visit anymore after this. I don’t know if I told you already but I’m just visiting family for the summer. I go home tomorrow.”
Bokuto isn’t looking forward to starting classes again and not seeing Akaashi every day.
Akaashi hums and Bokuto wishes he could hug his friend goodbye.
“Can you visit next summer?” Akaashi inquires after a bit. Bokuto lights up at this, grin brighter than ever, and he nods enthusiastically.
“Mhm!”
“Then I will see you next year.”
Bokuto chats the rest of the way back, appeased, and when they stop at the entrance to part ways, Bokuto waves happily at him and shouts a tiny, “Bye, Akaashi!” He makes his way back home, coaxed into a pleasant mood with promises of next summer.
He looks forward to it all year long.
—-
8.
Bokuto rushes to meet Akaashi the morning after the first day he’s back. He had slipped his shoes on haphazardly, ecstatic to have just gotten the permission to go outside already, and when he gets to the entrance, he’s surprised to find that Akaashi is already there, waiting for him.
“Akaashi,” he greets, all prim and proper, and doesn’t notice the way Akaashi’s hand twitches, as if he wants to reach out and pat his head.
“You’re taller,” Akaashi notes and Bokuto puffs his chest out and grins.
“6 centimeters!” Bokuto displays the number on his fingers and he thinks he hears a small laugh come from Akaashi.
They start into the forest like nothing has changed, and Bokuto’s smile doesn’t fade.
It’s during this summer that another spirit approaches them.
“Is that a human child I smell?” a low voice growls next to Bokuto’s ear and he yelps so loudly that the birds in nearby trees flee in shock.
Akaashi stands in front of him, arm barring the newcomer’s view of Bokuto, and his hand hovers just in front of the younger male’s body.
“This is Bokuto. He’s a friend of mine,” Akaashi murmurs.
Bokuto stares on, wide-eyed and incredulous as a quite terrifying looking creature slinks closer to them. It’s black and formless, with a large, rectangular mouth and a single eye, and the way it slithers towards them is unnerving.
“Don’t touch Akaashi,” the spirit warns, spittle hanging from its mouth as it looms over Bokuto. “If you do that, he won’t be here anymore. And if he’s not here, that means there’s no one around to stop me from eating you.”
Bokuto makes a small sound of horror before straightening up and bowing. “I-I won’t touch him!” he swears and Akaashi sneezes loudly next to him (most definitely on purpose).
Not only does the sneeze startle Bokuto, but the noise also scares the creature, and it leaps into the trees with a yelp, its transformation wavering and ceasing. Three bushy tails catch Bokuto’s eyes as the spirit hops off, and Bokuto’s mouth drops.
“Is that a kitsune?” he gasps and Akaashi turns towards Bokuto. “Oh wow, that was a real spirit! I’ve never seen a real spirit before! That was so amazing!”
He continues to crow out his astonishment with Akaashi standing next to him.
“What did you think I was?” Akaashi mutters while scratching the back of his own neck. Bokuto stops for a few seconds to grin up at his friend. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Akaashi seemed insulted.
“You’re Akaashi!” he says and then he’s setting off into the forest on his own.
—-
11.
Akaashi brings him to a large field of flowers the summer after he turns 11. There are so many colors, so many different varieties of flora that Bokuto loses himself in pilfering through them. He runs his hands along their petals, plucks a few of them out, and sets about making a crown out of them. He’s content to just stay like this for a bit, with Akaashi basking in the sun a few feet away and the sounds of the forest lulling him into a lethargic state of mind.
When he’s finished with his flower crown, he turns to speak to Akaashi.
He stays quiet when he notices the steady rise and fall of Akaashi’s chest and deduces that the other male must be sleeping.
“Akaashi?” he calls quietly, and when he doesn’t receive a response, he scoots closer. He looks down at Akaashi’s mask, takes in the gold and black markings of it, and wonders, not for the first time, what Akaashi would look like beneath it.
He worries at his lower lip and reaches out. “It should be okay if I touch just his mask, right?” he says to himself just as his fingers press against the hard exterior of the covering. He lifts it slowly, careful not to startle Akaashi awake, and when he pulls it up and off to the side, he sees Akaashi’s face for the first time.
He’s very pretty, Bokuto thinks. He has long eyelashes and a slender nose, and the shape of his face seems almost ethereal, but not quite. His mouth is curved up in his slumber, and Bokuto smiles upon seeing this.
Akaashi’s eyes flutter open then, irises the color of rich soil flecked with warm, dark honey, and Bokuto freezes.
He then slams the mask down onto Akaashi’s face and scrambles away, apologizing profusely.
Akaashi slips a hand under his mask to rub at his possibly wounded nose and Bokuto thinks he may be shooting a glare at him.
“I look normal, don’t I?” Akaashi asks calmly afterwards.
Bokuto huffs and suddenly comes to the realization that Akaashi probably hadn’t been sleeping.
“You were faking it, weren’t you?!”
Akaashi chuckles and Bokuto clutches onto his flower crown in childish indignation. “I’m not going to give this to you anymore!”
—-
12.
Akaashi’s voice is quiet in the forest, but still loud enough for Bokuto to hear.
“Bokuto?” he calls out for the third time, and Bokuto grins to himself. He can’t wait to see Akaashi’s face when he finds him. He’s settled up in a tree, legs wrapped around a thick branch in preparation to scare him.
Akaashi comes into his line of vision from where he’s perched up in the tree, and he sucks in a deep breath to hold. Akaashi moves closer and closer and Bokuto begins to vibrate with excitement.
“AHHHH!” he shouts as he drops his torso down into view on the path. He’s hanging upside down.
Akaashi actually jumps and Bokuto begins to giggle before he realizes he hasn’t actually seen Akaashi’s alarmed expression.
“What are you doing up there?” Akaashi asks as he steps up to peer at Bokuto.
“I was trying to scare you to see your reaction, but your mask was in the way,” Bokuto grumbles and Akaashi’s laughter puffs out quietly.
“You should take your mask off sometimes when I’m with you,” Bokuto bargains. Akaashi seems to contemplate it and lifts a hand, as if he’s going to remove his mask.
Bokuto doesn’t get to find out because the branch that’s supporting him, cracks and breaks, and then he’s falling.
It feels strange, he thinks, to hang in midair while he watches Akaashi reach out for him. It’s like he’s surveying the scene from outside of his body. Bokuto is falling and Akaashi’s hands are so close to him, and Bokuto begins to yell.
“No, don’t touch me!” he shouts vehemently, and at the last moment, Akaashi retracts his arms. Bokuto tumbles into a large bush and wills the beat of his heart to calm.
Akaashi hadn’t touched him.
“You can’t—“ he starts, glancing up at Akaashi. “You can’t touch me.”
It’s an order, not a request, and Bokuto is surprised to realize that he has started crying.
“You can’t ever touch me, Akaashi. For as long as you know me, please don’t ever touch me.”
Akaashi nods and there’s a solemn set to his shoulders that wasn’t there earlier.
The rest of the day feels heavy after that.
—-
14.
They’re walking through the forest, Bokuto just off of the path as he attempts to chase after a butterfly. Akaashi observes him as he always does, posture relaxed, and when Bokuto has given up on his capture game, he sidles up to the other male. He’s always very careful not to touch him.
“Akaashi?” he mumbles while glancing up at the man.
“Hm?” Akaashi hums and he has turned his head in Bokuto’s direction.
“If you look normal, why do you wear that mask?”
Akaashi steps over a branch on the path that Bokuto doesn’t see, and Bokuto trips and lands face first.
Akaashi snickers and Bokuto glares up at him before tossing a leaf in his direction pettily.
Bokuto doesn’t notice that Akaashi has stopped until he’s a handful of feet ahead of him and he turns around to watch the other male.
The butterfly Bokuto had been running after earlier is there, perched on his mask, and Akaashi’s head is tilted up towards the sky. He looks so calm and peaceful like this, and Bokuto is glad to know him.
Akaashi brings a hand up and lifts his mask, startling the butterfly away in the process, and Bokuto just stares. He is as beautiful as he had been that day in the field years ago and Bokuto’s heart swells with some unnamed emotion.
Akaashi’s smile is soft as he watches through lidded eyes as the butterfly flits around his head.
Bokuto wonders if this is what being starstruck feels like.
Akaashi brings his gaze down and his smile is now aimed at Bokuto. It’s gentler and quite a bit more affectionate.
“I don’t look like a spirit if I don’t wear my mask, do I?” he says finally in answer to Bokuto’s question and Bokuto shakes his head.
No, he wants to say. You look more like an angel.
—-
16.
The summer when Bokuto is 16 is unusually hot. He fans himself lazily the evening before he’s meant to go home, and his uncle sidles up next to him.
“It’s going to be a cold winter,” his uncle says, and Bokuto turns his focus to the man.
“Is it?” he asks, because he wouldn’t be able to tell. With how hot it is, he’d be sure the winter would be warm.
“Yeah,” his uncle affirms. “They say when you’ve got a good summer like this that the winters afterwards are so cold they can freeze even the forest god himself.”
He continues to drone on for a few, but Bokuto isn’t paying attention. He’s thinking of Akaashi and winter and how the clothing he has is so thin.
Bokuto leaps to his feet quickly, fast enough to surprise his uncle and he bows in apology. “Sorry! I’ve just forgotten that I need to do something really quick!”
He runs off after that, making the trek to a nearby shop, and when he shows up outside of the forest, Akaashi is waiting there like always.
“Aren’t you supposed to be heading home?” Akaashi queries, and there is mirth in his voice.
Bokuto laughs, cheeks pink from exertion—he had run all the way, after all—and nods.
“Tomorrow morning.”
He holds his hands out, a packaged scarf clutched in his fingers. “It’s supposed to be cold this winter,” he says. “Please wear this.”
Akaashi takes the scarf without questions and Bokuto is certain that Akaashi is giving him a peculiar look.
Bokuto thinks of Akaashi that winter. He worries about whether he’s warm or not and something settles heavy in his chest.
He wants so badly to see Akaashi.
When a classmate grabs his hand to help him across a thick patch of ice that winter and Bokuto only thinks of what Akaashi’s hand might feel like nestled in his, he feels guilty.
Bokuto shouldn’t want to touch him.
But he does.
(Akaashi wears the scarf that winter, and buries his nose in the fabric of it whenever the temperature drops too low. He thinks of Bokuto more often than not, and decides that summer cannot come fast enough.)
—-
17.
“You’re even taller than me,” is the first thing Akaashi says when Bokuto shows up the summer after he turns 17. Bokuto grins down at him, white teeth flashing, and he wiggles his brows.
“It’s all of that milk I drank when I was younger,” he jests and Akaashi snorts before leading them into the forest as usual.
They find themselves sitting at the water’s edge this time around, with Bokuto dipping his feet into the river and complaining about how cold it is.
“You graduate soon, don’t you?” Akaashi asks with his hands folded in his lap.
Bokuto looks upwards, taking in the white of the clouds and the blue of the sky and nods.
“I’ll graduate next summer,” he says, and that knowledge has warm happiness spreading through his chest. “I plan to look for a job and maybe even go to a college near here.”
Akaashi shifts next to him and Bokuto smiles to himself.
“Then, I can be with you more. In autumn, winter, spring… Whenever I’d like.”
There is silence between the two of them and Bokuto worries that he has pushed too far.
“Bokuto, I’d like to tell you about myself.” It’s not the reaction Bokuto had been expecting, but he scoots closer to Akaashi anyways and wraps his arms around his own knees so that he can prop his chin up on them. This is the first time Akaashi has offered any information about himself.
“I was human once, I think,” he starts. Bokuto listens intently.
“I was abandoned in this forest. I cried for a long time, they said, as if I was trying to call back the parents who had left me.” His voice is quiet as he speaks, but there’s no edge of hurt to it. Bokuto wonders how old he is to have forgiven his parents for doing that and supposes that it’s a question to save for another day.
“I should have died then, but the forest god appeared and cast a spell that allowed me to continue living and never move on. I’m really less of a spirit and more of a ghost.”
Bokuto studies the lines of Akaashi’s body and can see in the way he sucks in a breath that there’s more to be said from the man.
“It’s okay for you to forget about me, Bokuto. A body maintained by magic is weak. That’s why I can’t touch you or any human. This body will disappear.” It sounds like he’s giving Bokuto a way out, a way for Bokuto to leave him behind without feeling guilty if he wants, so Bokuto cuts in, a grin stretching across his face.
“So you’re a bit like snow then—disappearing when touched.”
The slope of Akaashi’s shoulders and his cocked head tell Bokuto that Akaashi must be confused.
“I thought of you in winter,” Bokuto admits sheepishly. “I thought of you a lot when I wasn’t here.”
Akaashi’s body is angled towards Bokuto now, and he seems pleased at the confession.
“Please don’t forget about me, Akaashi. Because I can’t forget about you.”
—-
18.
Something yanks at Bokuto’s fishing line and he knows it’s not a fish.
“Summer festival?” he questions as he reels in his line to find out that, yes, it had not been a fish, but seaweed.
“Yes,” Akaashi confirms and Bokuto frowns at his fishing pole then casts the line back into the water.
“I wanted to invite you when you were younger, but I thought you might get scared. Tonight, do you think you can sneak out to meet me? I’ve wanted to go with you for a long time.”
Bokuto has spent enough time with Akaashi to tell that he’s nervous by his posture, so he jumps up, his fishing pole forgotten.
“I want to go with!” he exclaims enthusiastically. A summer festival surrounded by spirits sounds more exciting than daunting, and time spent with Akaashi is the only bait he needs.
He huffs out a laugh and then sobers up, shuffling his feet, and feigning nervousness.
“Ah, but there will be a lot of spirits there… And it will be night time. That’s a bit scary, isn’t it?”
Akaashi has lifted himself up from where he had been sitting on the rock before Bokuto can say that he’s only kidding. “I will be there,” Akaashi begins and he slides his mask to the side, revealing his face.
Bokuto’s heart sings when they make eye contact. “The festival will be very similar to that of a human one, so there’s no need to worry. I will protect you.”
Bokuto lets out a wistful sigh and tsks at Akaashi. “You know, when you say stuff like that, how am I supposed to resist hugging you?”
Akaashi’s chin tilts as he steps closer to keep his gaze on Bokuto.
“I think I’d like that,” Akaashi divulges and Bokuto clenches his hands at his side.
He knows he’d like that as well.
—-
The festival is very similar to a human one—similar enough that Akaashi tells Bokuto that human children sometimes even manage to sneak in. The people, or spirits, Bokuto has to remind himself, around them are all wearing masks and Bokuto pokes fun at Akaashi, teasing him about “fitting right in.”
They come across a large crowd and before Bokuto can move into it, Akaashi offers him the end of a blue ribbon that he’d slipped out from the sleeves of his yukata.
“Will you tie this around your wrist please?” Akaashi requests. “It’s so I don’t lose you in the crowd, and I can’t hold your hand.”
Bokuto beams up at him and does as he’s asked. The portions of Akaashi’s cheeks that are visible are bunched up and Bokuto has to hide his own grin when he realizes that the other male is smiling.
“Are you—you’re smiling, aren’t you?” he observes and Akaashi turns away. Bokuto takes that as his answer and cackles loudly to himself.
They make their way through the stalls, stopping occasionally to play a game or grab something small to snack on, and when it’s time for the fireworks to start, Akaashi leads him up to a hill.
Bokuto yanks gently at the ribbon between them on the way up and titters shyly. “This feels like a date.”
Akaashi tugs the ribbon until it’s taut and laughs.
“This is a date,” Akaashi confirms and the happiness that paints itself across Bokuto’s face is more than visible.
The boom of the fireworks starting distracts him from saying anything more. They’re bright and loud, a colorful display of shapes and fizzling sparks, and Bokuto thinks they might be prettier than any fireworks he has ever seen.
“Fireworks remind me of you,” Akaashi murmurs between the lighting of another round of the pyrotechnics, and Bokuto’s heart leaps into his throat.
He watches the reds and greens and blues illuminate Akaashi’s mask, and he’s just about to ask Akaashi if he could possibly take it off when he notices that Akaashi is reaching up already to do so.
Bokuto stands there, silent for once, as Akaashi slips the mask onto Bokuto’s face and smooths his fingers across the surface of it while leaning in.
“I’ve wanted to do this for a while now as well,” Akaashi admits and he kisses the cheek of the mask. He’s so close to Bokuto now that Bokuto can feel the heat radiating from him. He aches to reach out and slide his hands up Akaashi’s chest and rest them at his shoulders.
He refrains.
Akaashi leaves his mask situated on Bokuto’s face when he finally steps back and Bokuto is glad for the cover, considering the dopey grin that’s currently situated on his face.
It also means that he’s able to study Akaashi’s face without any hindrances, and he keeps a tight hold of the ribbon that’s tied around their wrists to keep the other male from moving too far away.
“Have I ever told you that you’re breathtaking?” It’s an honest query from Bokuto—he can’t remember if he’s ever said it aloud, but Akaashi scowls and ducks his head from view.
He is about to retort, Bokuto can tell, when a young child rushes by and trips over his own feet. Akaashi catches him, hands underneath the poor kid’s armpits as he lifts him to his feet again, and then crouches down in front of the young boy.
“Be careful,” Akaashi chastises softly and pats the kid on the head, who then scampers off.
A pretty blue-green begins to light up Akaashi’s skin then, starting at his fingertips and hands where he had grabbed the child. Bokuto begins to panic, unsure of what’s going on, and rips the mask off of his face to see more clearly.
“Akaashi?” he doesn’t understand what’s happening as he calls out, and Akaashi’s head shoots up. There’s a tiny bit of fear and sadness in his gaze but what overwhelms that is the acceptance and joy that quivers in his irises.
“Come here,” Akaashi urges with his arms spread open and he sounds so serious that suddenly, Bokuto understands.
He rushes forward into Akaashi’s arms, wrapping his own limbs around the spirit in the process, and crushes him into a hug. Akaashi is just as warm as Bokuto had expected, but he’s more firm, stronger than Bokuto would have ever imagined.
“That was a human child,” Bokuto chokes out, and there’s so much he wants to say right now.
Akaashi grasps at Bokuto’s yukata, silencing him, and Bokuto smooths his thumb across Akaashi’s jawline and then up until it’s gliding over the other male’s lower lip. Akaashi is surveying him with nothing but affection lining his eyes and Bokuto tilts Akaashi’s chin up so he can do what he’s dreamt of doing for years now.
He kisses Akaashi.
It’s a chaste kiss, because it’s all they have time for, but it’s enough for Bokuto. Akaashi’s lips are soft and warm and he tastes like a summer breeze. How fitting, Bokuto wants to say, but he doesn’t.
“Akaashi…” he breathes, and then decides that the name doesn’t sound right anymore. “No, Keiji… Keiji.” He’s crying now, hot tears spilling down his cheeks. “Keiji.”
Akaashi smiles so wide that Bokuto worries it will split his face and Akaashi ghosts his hands along both of Bokuto’s shoulders.
“I love you, Koutarou.”
The weight in Bokuto’s arms lifts and all Bokuto is left with is the fabric of Akaashi’s yukata and the mask at his feet.
“I love you, too, Keiji,” he sobs. “I love you, too.”
—-
Bokuto makes his way home alone that night with a few kind spirits helping to guide his way. They thank him for freeing Akaashi. “He had always wanted to touch someone,” they say and Bokuto laughs through his stinging tears.
He thanks them in turn for helping him to get home, and sits at the forest entrance for a long while, just staring at the mask in his hands.
It will be a long time before he can look forward to summer again, he thinks.