Allies
“Fuck you.”
“I’m not the one you should be fucking.”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” These are the first words to leave his lips as he stares, mouth agape and so wide that an insect might fly into his mouth as he stares, eyes round as saucers. Disbelief, shock, and something else fill Bokuto, and he’s certain the others can see that emotion in his eyes. “You’re one of them, too, aren’t you?”
The question is rhetorical; he already knows the answer. Even so, he can’t stop himself from asking. Am I actually and seriously surrounded by a bunch of non-humans or what?
Who’s next? Fuckin’... Tsukki?
He might just give up at this point. The thought of Tsukishima Kei being an immortal should have been baffling, but now, resigned to the fact that so much of his company has been heavenly company, the notion of the curly-haired blond being a deity doesn’t seem so unbelievable anymore. Bokuto doesn’t know if he should be concerned with the fact that he’s so resigned or not. Either way, that doesn’t have anything to do with what’s happening in front of him right now, so the spirit forces himself back to reality. “How many of my friends are actually, y’know, human?”
Kuroo’s smile is as devilish as it is sheepish. “A good, healthy amount, I’m sure. You just have quite a few non-humans with you, that’s all.”
“I think you and I have very different definitions of a few.”
“I did say quite,” Kuroo responds, almost immediately, sharp-tongued and insufferable as ever. Despite this, the both of them end up chuckling like idiots a few moments of silence after all.
“Bokuto-san,” Kenma finally speaks up, giving the spirit a nonchalant and almost lazy wave, which Bokuto returns. The pudding-haired male opens his mouth to speak, only to stop himself short after Akaashi steps into the room. Bokuto turns around and grins.
“Akaashi! You could have told me that you knew them.”
Akaashi raises an eyebrow. “Bokuto-san,” he begins slowly, settling down in a seat opposite to Kenma’s. “We met Kozume-san when I first picked you up.” His tone resembles that of an adult explaining something that shouldn’t be complicated at all to a child, and, unable to conjure the memory of ever running into the feline-gazed male, he frowns.
“We did?” He asks, at the same time Kuroo croaks out a surprised “what.”
The rooster-haired male whirls on his boyfriend. “You ran into the both of them together and you didn’t tell me?” He asks in miffed disbelief, to which Kenma rolls his eyes.
“You would have known sooner or later anyway,” is his simple reply. “And, besides. I wanted to see the look on your face when you saw them together.”
“It’s okay, Kuroo-san,” Hinata comforts comically. “We were surprised, too.”
Bokuto shakes his head. “Why do you guys always react like that, anyway? It’s just little old me and Akaashi.” He takes a seat next to the deity in question; the latter scoots to the side to give Bokuto some space to sit. Despite the fact that there are so many other empty chairs to sit on, the athlete chooses to sit next to Akaashi Keiji, and the immortal seems to have no qualms despite usually being so reserved about proximity.
Kuroo looks like a deer caught in headlights. Probably not the right way to use the phrase, but there’s no other way to describe his expression as his gaze flicks between the two in utter and complete disbelief. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, he’s interrupted by a rough voice. All heads turn to the doorway at the sound.
“Sorry I’m late,” Iwaizumi says, scratching the back of his neck. “I was writing up some reports.” His gaze flicks hesitantly over to Bokuto and Akaashi, but he looks away just as quickly. Instead, he looks over to the two new guests and nods in acknowledgment. “Kuroo. Kenma. Good to see you two again.”
Now Kuroo really chokes. “Hold—hold on. Why are you h—no, wait. You’re just—you’re just going to let this happen? This? ” Kuroo makes wide gestures at Bokuto and Akaashi. His face is almost green at this point. “Like, don’t get me wrong—this is a very fuck yeah! I’m super happy! moment for them and us, but you are just going to let this go? No reports? Nothing?”
Iwaizumi’s face sours. “I would if I could, but we both know what the consequences might be.”
Kuroo whips around. “So you and Akaashi…” He pauses, fumbling for words for but a moment before speaking again. “So you two are just, y’know, together now, or what?”
Bokuto tilts his head to the side, not unlike an owl. “He picked me up like, last week. So.”
Kuroo looks like he’s about to combust. “Last week.”
“Why are you so interested anyway, Kuroo-san?” Akaashi adds in nonchalantly. “It’s just Bokuto-san. He’s just another spirit with unresolved grievances. There really isn’t a need to react so wildly.”
It’s tempting. Tempting to lash out, tell Akaashi not to say he’s just another spirit . At least, not to Akaashi. He doesn’t want the deity to think of him as just another spirit. He wants him to think he’s—
His thoughts stop short.
What? He asks himself. What are you thinking now?
Deities, he’s tired. And he doesn’t even know of what. The same way all of these heavenly officials are speaking in circles, so, too, is he, but in his own head. He’s getting nowhere with this. It’s as frustrating as it is ridiculous.
He swears everyone else in the room cringes at Akaashi’s choice of words as they all cast gazes of both sympathy and pity Bokuto’s way. He only stares back at the lot of them in obliviousness. So he tries to change the subject. “So you and Kenma are from the Heavens.” He starts.
“I am,” Kuroo says. “But Kenma isn’t. He’s a demon.”
“I’m a senri,” Kenma offers, meeting Bokuto’s gaze. “The cat demon that feasts on human souls. Which I haven’t had in a very long time.”
Kuroo huffs. “I give you enough of myself for you to not need human souls!”
Kenma raises an eyebrow. “I never said you didn’t, Tetsu.”
Bokuto’s never heard of a senri in his life, but since it’s clear that Kenma knows that and has already made an effort to explain(somewhat), he doesn’t question any further. Kuroo cuts through his train of thought after a short bout of silence. “We’re just glad to see you again, man.”
(Bokuto doesn’t realise that all those times he’s seen them at his grave, they’ve been able to see him, too. They just didn’t interact with him at the time, because they simply couldn’t.)
“So, anyway.” Kuroo tilts his head to the side. “Akaashi just picked you up like some sort of stray, and… that’s it? Nothing else happened?”
Bokuto frowns. “Why are we talking about this again? What do you think could have happened, dumbass?”
The dark-haired deity turns to Iwaizumi. “So, what? Heaven doesn’t know yet, right?”
The martial god shakes his head. “No. Just me. For now, it would be best if it stayed that way.”
Kenma nods in agreement. “It would be utter chaos if they found out. The heavens would lose it. And so would your fiance.”
Silence. Then Kuroo hurries to add, “No offense, Iwaizumi. You just… well. You know what it’s like.” A hand sheepishly rubs at the nape of his neck, paired with a smile of the same emotion. “Especially with this situation going on and everything, having them finding out would just make everything worse. And if they try to pin the blame again, then… well. I think we all know how that would turn out.”
“Not all of us,” Hinata pipes up. “Some of us have only heard of what happened. We’re not from the same generation of immortals, remember?”
Iwaizumi’s laugh is rough and bitter. “You wouldn’t want to know what it was like, Hinata. Trust me.” His gaze slides over to Bokuto and Akaashi, both who are equally mystified. “It was like Hell found its way to Earth and Heaven. We lost a lot of good people that day.” His gaze turns sad. His eyes linger on Bokuto. “... And I lost a very dear friend. And another’s still suffering from the aftermath of it. War has never been pretty, but this one… I think I can say that this was my toughest.” He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “And Tooru wouldn’t want to take action unless he had to. Which he does, given his position. But he definitely would prefer not to. He knew them once, too, you know.”
Bokuto and Akaashi exchange equally confused glances, but don’t interrupt their reminiscing. It’s only then that the rest of them remember that they’re still in the room. Kuroo brings them back to the main topic. “So are you going to tell him anytime soon?”
Iwaizumi purses his lips and frowns. “I’m… thinking about it.”
Kuroo’s blink is slightly disbelieving. “But this is like a whole ‘nother workload.”
“I know that,” Iwaizumi snaps, temper flaring. “But it just doesn’t feel right to hide it from him.”
“You’re going to have to,” Kenma offers. “Until this all blows over. Unless something else happens, in which case, we wouldn’t have a choice.”
“Let’s just hope you don’t have a crow’s mouth,” Kuroo murmurs.
Hinata and Kageyama both let out indignant “hey!”’s upon hearing this statement.
“Anyway,” Iwaizumi continues, settling into his seat. “Now that you’re both here, I’m assuming Hinata and Kageyama already explained our current situation.” He doesn’t bother to make it sound like a question, though Kuroo and Kenma nod anyway. “So we have to prep for a battle that will either come to us at an uncertain time and we need to know how to minimise damage and the loss of mortal lives. Any of you guys have ideas?”
Kageyama frowns. “We could try luring them elsewhere. Somehow.”
“Somehow,” Iwaizumi echoes, mildly displeased with how vague that sounds. “Okay, yeah. That’s a given. But we need to figure out the method. There’s no way they’re going to ignore the rest of the mortals in favour of some deserted place.”
“So we divert their attention.” Kenma tilts his head to the side, gaze focused on the table, eyes alert but far away all at once. “We make decoys. We set them up.” When he looks up, his gaze is eerie. “Ghouls aren’t smart. They’re operating on orders and relying on their own primal senses. And the thing about that is that primal senses, instincts, their brains, even—they can all be tricked. If humans can be led in circles, we can definitely do the same for lesser creatures. The only problem is how.”
Kuroo crosses his arms. “Well they rely on their sense of smell, right? We could work with that first.”
“But they have eyes,” Hinata points out. “Like they’re stupid, but they can’t be that stupid, you know?”
“So we blind them,” Kenma meets Hinata’s gaze. “We find a way to blind them completely and make them rely on their sense of smell. It will be night time, anyway. There’s no way they’ll attack in broad daylight when they’re so much more stronger at night. We can work with that. Find a way to permanently blind them, if possible.”
Iwaizumi shakes his head. “That’s impossible. There’ll be a lot of them. We can’t possibly permanently blind each of them.”
“Their eyes are sensitive,” Kenma points out, then draws a qiankun pouch from Kuroo’s pocket. “If we can find a way to throw this on top of all of them, it might just work.” He reaches a hand into the pouch. When he draws it back out, there’s a sort of powder in his hands, leaking through the gaps between his fingers before it falls back into the qiankun pouch in his hands. It’s like sand, but grainier, and it looks translucent, almost. Blue. Bokuto finds it vaguely familiar. “The old ways are always reliable.”
“How do we group them together, though?” Hinata frowns. “We need to find a way to get them all in one place.”
Kenma folds his hands together on his lap, the movements eerily elegant and graceful in a feline-like way. His eyes seem to glow even beneath the light. “We can cut the power of the city. A blackout, if you will.” His fingers tap against his thighs as his eyes glaze over once more. “They’ll be blinded, somewhat. We can find human-scented things and put them in one place to gather them. Then we can toss the powder.”
“How would we cut the power, though?” Kuroo frowns. “The city’s powered by multiple generators.”
Kenma raises an eyebrow. “We can station our men at each and have them cut it out at the same time. Then they can put up a spell to ward off the humans—at least, until we’ve managed to blind and gather the ghouls in one place.”
“What if they don’t fall for it?” Iwaizumi asks. “What if one of the elders is there to direct them?”
Kenma tilts his head to the side. “We stick to the blackout plan. If they have any elder ghouls with them, we can make sure to pinpoint where they are and take them out in the dark first. There shouldn’t be too many of them, anyway—ghouls usually don’t have the leisure of cultivating to such a high level. At most, there will be three or four of them. But if we’re extra lucky, there won’t be any elders at all.”
Kuroo sighs. “You’re hot when you’re being all smart and dangerous.”
Kenma shoots his boyfriend a look, but fails to hide the reddening tips of his ears. The cat demon doesn’t respond to his comment, instead turning to meet Iwaizumi’s impressed and disgusted gaze. “What say you, General?”
“It’s a good plan.” Iwaizumi leans forward, nodding his head in approval. “But the only problem is that it’s only effective if we’re prepared. They could attack at any time, and we’d be none the wiser. This plan wouldn’t work if we rushed it. Or, well. It wouldn’t work well unless we had some proper time to prepare.”
Kenma shakes his head. “We should at least get them to start prepping now. You guys should have this powder with you, anyway. Station your men around every entry point of the city and give them something so they can send a signal. And the others should be preparing the materials. You have a map, right?” Kenma reaches forward, palms up and fingers splayed. “Give it to me. I’ll mark a few locations where I think we can group them together.”
Hinata blinks. “Do you know the city that well?”
Kenma tilts his head to the side. “I’ve been here before, but, no, not exactly. But I’m operating on the assumption that places like some huge park or an open stadium or whatever are more likely to have less people, if any. We should be trying to get them to places like that. Which means I’m going to need you to brief me on some locations in Miyagi.”
Hinata and Kageyama exchange a look, then nod in affirmation. “Okay,” Hinata agrees.
“Who are you guys, really?” Bokuto blurts out, his gaze flitting between Kuroo and Kenma. “What the hell even is my friend circle?”
Silence.
Then Kuroo lets out a sheepish, boisterous laugh. “Oh, man, if only you knew.”
“There’s more?” Good lord, how did Bokuto get here? It’s just one mind-blowing discovery after another. It’s starting to get tiring.
“Yep.” Kuroo grins. “But I won’t tell you. The suspense is important, after all. Part of the experience, you catch my drift?”
Yes, but no. No. Nope.
“And I’m one of the guardian deities of Tokyo,” Kuroo relents, shortly after. “Kenma’s just a regular, cute little senri. He feeds on my spiritual energy when he really needs to, but he can survive without it or human souls.”
My friends are all fucked and so am I.
Kenma turns back to Iwaizumi. “If you’ve any input, General, now would be a good time to start talking.”
“Kuroo-san,” Akaashi calls after Iwaizumi, Kenma, Kageyama and Hinata have started to discuss the plan in more detail. “Can we talk?”
Kuroo blinks, then rises from his seat. Bokuto watches them go, but doesn’t comment on it, instead turning his attention to the four people discussing the plan. A part of him itches to give some insight, some input, but for some reason, he can’t muster anything out.
On the other end, Kuroo and Akaashi find a comfortable, private spot, and the former finds himself speaking first. “... Am I in trouble or something?”
Akaashi barks out a surprised, soft chuckle. “No, Kuroo-san. I just wanted to ask you a few things is all.”
He blinks. “Uh, okay. Shoot, then.”
Akaashi’s gaze is contemplative. “You’re all hiding something from me. About Bokuto-san.”
Kuroo nearly chokes on his own saliva. It throws him into a coughing fit right after, and he’s struggling to speak in between each ragged inhale and the next as he tries to stop his hacking. “What—” cough “—What are you talking a—” cough “—about?” Cough cough cough. As if he isn’t being obvious enough already. Mentally, he gives himself a hard slap. Oh, you fucking idiot, what are you doing?
Akaashi’s gaze is mildly amused. “You alright there, Kuroo-san?”
“I’m fine,” he says raspily, straightening. Then he clears his throat, smoothens his nonexistent, ruffled feathers. “I’m fine.”
“Right,” comes the dry reply.
Silence. It’s a little awkward.
Then Kuroo breaks it, frowning, feigning nonchalance and composure as he fights against the rapid beating of his immortal heart. “Why are you asking, anyway? You’re not usually the type to pry about these sorts of things.”
“I’m not,” Akaashi agrees, his fingers finding each other as he starts to play with them. “But this involves me, and everyone has been acting weird about it. I was human once, too, you know. Just because I’m not as curious as I once was doesn’t mean it’s not there. It gets pretty tiring after the fifth time someone has to do a double take and ask me what I’m doing with Bokuto-san at my side.”
Oh, yeah. I guess I get that.
Kuroo clears his throat awkwardly, shifting his weight from side to side. “It’s… complicated.” He sighs, then runs a hand through his messy, dark hair. “I would tell you if I could, Akaashi, seriously. But I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“There are consequences for speaking of things like this. Things that shouldn’t be said. Especially not to you.”
He frowns. “I… I don’t understand. Why are there consequences? Why am I being left out again?”
The guilt drives itself home like a hot knife through butter, cutting right through Kuroo’s skin and embedding itself in his ever-beating heart.
“There are consequences because it’s dangerous, Akaashi,” Kuroo replies, fighting down the guilt. “You’re smart enough to know that. I’m sure you can ask your friends from the Sakurai clan all about it.” If they told you anything about it, that is.
“So they’re in on it, too, right?” Akaashi’s tone is dry, his demeanour stiffening, frosting over. “About this. They reacted the same way, too. Even Beom neglected to say anything.”
Kuroo cringes. “Right. And that’s because he’s already got a target on his back. Heaven is practically waiting for him to make a mistake so they can detain and execute him. It makes sense that he’s exercising some caution when the people up top want his head on a pike.”
Akaashi doesn’t reply. His gaze remains focused on Kuroo, expectant, knowing the latter has more to say.
“Your best bet is Sakurai Shun,” Kuroo finally relents. “But he’s a heavenly official, too. A Sakurai. He’d be kept under close watch. And, yeah, I mentioned Beom, but I doubt he knows everything.” He clasps hands together, purses his lips. “He isn’t from the same generation. What he might know is limited. And not enough. For you, anyway.”
Akaashi blows out a frustrated breath. “Isn’t that how it always is? There’s always a ‘but’ when it comes to these things.” His gaze is downcast, eyebrows knitted together in thought. “... I just want to understand what’s happening.”
Me too, buddy, me too.
“You could try asking Junya,” Kuroo offers finally. “You know him, right? The kitsune.”
Akaashi raises an eyebrow. “Junya?”
“Yeah. He’s probably older than all of us, and he was definitely there when the war happened. And he isn’t loyal to anyone.” Kuroo holds up his fingers, and, as he speaks, he puts them down one by one. “He’s morally grey, he doesn’t have to choose sides, he knows everything, and he’s reliable when it comes to information. He isn’t tied down by Heaven’s laws, either, since we’re the ones who visit him for intel on more than one occasion. He’s your best bet.”
Unless Heaven got to him first.
Akaashi’s gaze is contemplative. Kuroo speaks up again before the former can say anything else. “I guess the only downside is that his information always comes with a price.”
Kuroo remembers the few times he’s met the kitsune. White hair cascading down his broad shoulders, long lashes, golden eyes, paired with red markings at his cheek and between his brows, his gaze amused, arrogant, seductive and dangerous all at once. His robes, haphazardly worn, consist of only one layer, and the top is open, putting his chest on full display as he lounges on his seat. Nine tails spread behind him, but he has the ability to hide those away. His figure is slender and slim—and, well, in other words, he’s a feast for the eyes, with a voice for the ears. Deep and dark and smooth. “Kuroo Tetsurou,” he’d drawled. “I know what you want to know. And I also know what you want, what you need.” He’d stood up, then, and Kuroo had been surprised, because they were almost the same height. Junya’s angular phoenix eyes are always curled upwards, giving one the impression of a constantly smiling man. And, at the time, Kuroo thought he looked like he was mocking him. “But enough of that. What will you offer in exchange for what you came here for?”
Honestly? Talking to Junya was like having straight up sex with some enigmatic stranger. Dangerous. And all for a piece of information.
Kuroo hadn’t known Kenma then. He supposes he’s lucky his first meeting with Junya left him bankrupt; after all, the fox demon has been known to exchange information with information worth as much as the one being asked for.
Among other things.
“Oh.” Akaashi blinks, as though suddenly remembering something. “Right. I forgot you people actually have to pay him back for information.”
Kuroo blinks. “Wait. What?”
“I don’t…” Akaashi blinks again, then looks away, a little embarrassed. “Junya doesn’t let me repay him for information. I get mine for free, basically.”
Kuroo nearly starts coughing out blood. “He what? He does that?”
Akaashi shrugs. “Apparently. He said he did it for someone else before me, so. I’m not the first.”
“But why?”
Akaashi’s gaze is helpless. “Kuroo-san, I wish I had an answer, but I don’t. He just won’t accept payment from me.”
The official runs a hand over his face, letting out an exasperated groan. “‘Go ask Junya for information,’, they said. ‘It’ll be fine,’ they said. I nearly went broke after the first time I met him.”
Akaashi blinks. “But you still go to him for information, right?”
“Yeah. For the price of my pockets or my dignity.”
Akaashi lets out a small laugh. “I can see that happening.”
“Hey!”
Silence falls once more. Kuroo folds his arms, leans against the wall. Then he tilts his head to the side and asks, “So? What are you gonna do?”
“Ask him, probably.” Akaashi blows out a sigh. “That’s if the Heavens haven’t already gotten to him. You said he wasn’t on anyone’s side. But he has sides. He joins them temporarily and only for a certain price. Who knows what the heavens have offered him?”
“Would he really have the balls to ask something from Heaven in exchange for his service?”
Akaashi meets Kuroo’s gaze steadily. “You tell me.”
And the funny thing is, Kuroo can’t say Junya doesn’t.
______
Bokuto lights up like a lightbulb the moment Kuroo and Akaashi enter his field of vision. He jumps up and bounds over, relieved to have an excuse to peel away from the other three strategizing around the table. “You’re back!” He cries. “Oh, thank fuck. My brain cells can’t handle all the strat they’re talking about—I feel like I’m about to explode.” And, boy, does he look the part.
“So what did you guys talk about?” Bokuto asks, tilting his head to the side and settling down next to Akaashi when they sit down. “Seemed really serious if you ask me. Feels bad to be left out, man.” He tosses Kuroo a look. “You’re breakin’ the bro code by keeping secrets, you know.”
Kuroo huffs indignantly, puffing out his chest in mock offense. “Oi! What’s that supposed to mean?”
Bokuto sticks out his tongue(he’s mentally regressing already and it hasn’t even been two hours yet). “I said what I said, rooster bitch.”
Kenma lets out a small ‘pft’.
Akaashi looks aghast and amused at the same time.
Kuroo looks like he’s about to flip a table. “You fucking asshole.”
“You love me,” Bokuto shoots back, his tone singsong and lilting as he shoots a wink at the man who looks like he’s ready to punch him. Hinata and Kageyama are watching this like they’re watching a movie, and Iwaizumi’s adopted a resting bitch face somewhere along the way.
Kuroo mumbles something beneath his breath, but doesn’t deny. So Bokuto grins smugly, knowing that the win is his, before he turns back to Akaashi. “So? What happened back there?”
“Your innocent ears wouldn’t be able to handle it, Kou,” Kuroo coos back smugly. “So we won’t tell you anything for the sake of your little ears.”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m not the one you should be fucking.”
Silence.
Kuroo realises his mistake too late. “Oh, shit, hold up—”
“Anyway,” Iwaizumi cuts in, looking like he’s torn between the urge to laugh and/or cry. “We don’t have much time left before the attack, and Bokuto still can’t exactly hold if he’s in an intense fight for too long. We need to keep smoothing out the edges of this strategy or we’re all gonna be fucked.”
“I told some of my underlings to gather here ASAP before we came here,” Kuroo offers. “I don’t know when they’ll be here, but they’re all heavenly officials.”
“I tried reaching out to Shun and Jae,” Akaashi offers, leaning back in his seat. “I don’t know if they’ll be able to make it, though.”
Kuroo’s expression is indignant. “Why didn’t you tell me this when we were literally just talking about them?”
Akaashi raises an eyebrow. “If I said it in front of you, I’d have to repeat it.”
“You guys were talking about Shun and Jae?” Bokuto frowns, confused. “Why would you need to bring them up in a conversation?”
Akaashi exhales through his nose. “I’ll fill you in later, Bokuto-san.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Silence. Then—“He wants to fight.” Iwaizumi speaks up from his spot, eyeing Bokuto, his gaze calculative and cautious. “Bokuto, I mean.”
The spirit cringes. “It was just an offer…”
But no one is ridiculing him like he expects them to, despite never having fought anyone or anything before in his life until he’d died. No, they’re giving him an odd look. Except for Akaashi, who frowns and turns to the ex-athlete, tilting his head to the side as he asks, “Why? Would you be able to hold out?”
He puffs up a little indignantly at the question. “Hey!” He says. “I just—It just feels like I should. Fight, I mean.” It’s like he’s itching to swing his blade, itching to feel the thrill of the battle. He doesn’t quite understand it himself, but it feels a little like calls to like. Except that Bokuto has never been fond of bloodshed. Adrenaline? Sure. The thrill and rush of action? Hell yeah. But violence and bloodshed… No, he can’t see himself ever enjoying that.
But it feels like he belongs on the battlefield, and he can’t understand why.
Akaashi’s gaze is different this time. It’s like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle, except he doesn’t have all the pieces. Bokuto squirms a little under it, though he can’t figure out why. Does he think I’m onto something? Because he definitely isn’t. Heck, ever since his death, he’s just been hit with questions about himself left and right. Questions that just keep coming. Questions he doesn’t have any damn answers to and wishes he does. It’s frustrating and he wishes he knew the answers, but damn, this shit ain’t simple.
Which should be ridiculous, because, well—they’re about him.
Strange how he doesn’t know himself as well as he should.
Akaashi sighs in defeat after a long bout of painful, heavy silence(on Bokuto’s end, at least). “I’ll stick by him and make sure he doesn’t get hurt,” the immortal relents, tearing his calculative gaze away and allowing Bokuto to breathe out a breath of relief.
This is good. This is good. But he doesn’t even know how he’s going to fend for himself.
“They’re probably not going to come,” Akaashi speaks up, drawing their attention. “Shun and Jae, I mean. Beom said earlier that they wouldn’t involve themselves in this. I just asked for the sake of it.” A gesture of trust and one that shows how desperate they are for help. The dark-robed deity pulls out a pouch from his robes, settling it on the table. “Shun sent me some poison darts just in case. I got them just before Kuroo-san and Kenma-san arrived.”
Kuroo picks up the pouch and peeks in, then barks out a laugh. “That’s some nasty poison alright. He made those himself?”
Akaashi tilts his head to the side, but Kenma answers for him. “When has Sakurai Shun ever used poisons made by another’s hand?”
“Bokuto,” Iwaizumi speaks up. “You should be careful. On the battlefield, I mean. You’re solid now.”
“He is?” Kageyama blinks, turning to Bokuto to look at him properly. “Oh. He is.”
Hinata snickers. “Idiot.”
“Dumbass.”
“You love me.”
“... I got nothin’ to say to that.”
“I’ll be fighting with Akaashi, though.” Bokuto says. “It should be fine, right?”
Iwaizumi’s gaze is a little pained, as is Kuroo’s. Kenma watches on in interest, and Kageyama and Hinata fall silent as the General replies, “Yeah. Or it could be a recipe for disaster in the long run.”
Bokuto frowns. “Why?”
The General averts his gaze to the floor, eyebrows furrowed.
“If only you knew.”
But that’s the problem, isn’t it?
Bokuto Koutarou never knows.
——————
“This is either going to be really good,” Kuroo begins, after everyone has left save for Kenma and Iwaizumi. “Or really, really fucking bad.”
Iwaizumi scoffs. “Which part? The promise of a new war between deities and demons, or the fact that Bokuto and Akaashi not only met, but are going to fight together on the same battlefield again?”
“Both.” Comes Kenma’s reply, his gaze on the door that the others had just left through. His arms are crossed, and there’s a faraway look in his eyes. Kageyama and Hinata had gone elsewhere to make preparations for the battle, and Akaashi and Bokuto had gone to their room to rest. “Kuroo tried to stop Bokuto. Before he died.”
Kuroo shakes his head. “It didn’t work. Never does. Same thing every time.”
Iwaizumi fiddles with the whip at his hip. “That’s how it works.”
The other deity slams a fist on the table, runs a hand through his unruly hair. Then he says, “I fucking know that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to at least try. I owe that much to him, at least.”
Silence.
“He hasn’t changed a bit,” is what leaves Iwaizumi’s lips, his words soft. “He’s still… Bokuto. ”
“I think that him meeting Akaashi is his tipping point,” Kenma says quietly. “He’s starting to act more and more like the one we knew. Not to say he didn’t already, but some things…”
“He’s probably only going to keep remembering, at this point.” Iwaizumi taps his fingers on the table. “He beat me in battle earlier. Once. I don’t know if that’s a spur-of-the-moment thing or not, but if it is, we’re going to have to hope he remembers how it should feel. The battle won’t be easy.”
“Then what about Akaashi?” Kuroo sighs and then groans, frustrated. “This is already a mess. And the fighting hasn’t even started yet.”
Iwaizumi casts his gaze skyward.
“We’re going to just have to hope for the best. And keep their meeting under wraps for as long as we can for now.”
Or it’ll be them against the world with the skies at their heels again, and we won’t be able to stop it.