Thread by @captainhoothoot

#osaaka | glance
+ Slight angst, mentions of pining 

What does one do when a star drifts away? 

Akaashi sits huddled in a corner of his room. Knees drawn to his chest, he casts a glassy, forlorn look at the vast night sky outside his open window.

It's hollow, empty and void.

https://twitter.com/taylordonkeys/status/1595303112595619840

The chill is beginning to settle in his bones, but it beats having fresh, hot tears running down his cheeks in rivulets, when he doesn't want to feel. 

Not when he is hurting, wounds fresh, heart broken.

Not when he has to face the bitter, hard truth of the person he loves, getting married. 

Not when Bokuto Koutarou, his star, is drifting away from him, for good.

Akaashi curls into a foetal position, damp eyelashes fluttering shut.

Allowing himself to be dragged into an abyss, the momentary comfort of being blanketed by darkness offers him some solace, before the haunting reality sets in. 

His love will never be reciprocated.

Tears seep through his thin jumper.

Weariness sets in.

When Akaashi awakens, his room is dim, safe for the bright screen of his laptop where the latest chapter of his novel remains untouched.

Staring at it blankly, his vision glazes over.

Why does it feel like his world is crumbling now that the star that has been orbiting around it, has drifted away? 

Why does he grieve, when he should be wishing Bokuto all the happiness in the world?

Why does loving someone hurt so much?

It takes days, weeks and months for the aching in his chest to subside.

For numbness to kick in, as Akaashi throws himself into work.

For him to force a smile on his face as he sends a heartfelt congratulatory message to his star,

watching Bokuto beam, wrapping a strong arm around his wife’s waist; disregarding the burn in his eyes and the look of pity he's showered with from the guests at the wedding. 

It hurts. 

Until it doesn't.

Time comes to a complete standstill when Akaashi meets Miya Osamu.

It starts with a fleeting glance. 

Concern etched into grey orbs with the faintest specks of violet and blue, Akaashi doesn't realise that he's tumbled into Onigiri Miya after yet another day of working himself to the bone, shuffling into a corner, to drink himself silly.

Downing shot after shot of sake, Akaashi is determined to drink his sorrows away.

He's halfway through a lonely means of escape, when a plate of onigiri slides over his table, catching his attention.

Akaashi blinks and glances up blearily, cheeks warm from all the alcohol he has downed. 

“Ya shouldn't drink on an empty stomach. Here, eat.”

Slightly flustered by the soft tone of admonishment coming from who Akaashi recognizes as Miya Osamu, twin brother of Atsumu, Bokuto's teammate, he nods dumbly and picks up a warm onigiri, taking a bite.

Akaashi isn't sure why his vision glazes over, or why an onigiri rice ball brings forth an onslaught of emotions, but a sniffle escapes him, before tears well in his eyes. 

The dams he has kept closed, flood open.

Akaashi sobs.

Chowing down on the onigiri in his quivering hand, he scuffs down the other rice ball on his plate, chest heaving as he attempts to even his breathing amidst the wetness on his cheeks. 

The bottle of sake he ordered lies forgotten.

A soft, linen handkerchief with a tiny fox and rice ball makes its way to his table. Something about it makes the corners of Akaashi's lips quirk up, ever so slightly. 

He uses it to dab away his tears, gaze shifting to the owner of Onigiri Miya.

Osamu pays him no mind, cleaning down the surrounding tables silently.

The other customers have long left, and Akaashi realises that the closing hours have kicked in. He's clearly imposing on the business, yet Osamu makes no move to shoo him away.

If anything, he glances up, gaze knowing, fixated on the way Akaashi fidgets under his stare. 

"... The rice balls are on the house. The sake too."

Akaashi shakes his head quickly, eyes wide. He can't possibly not pay for them, when it's the closest thing he's had to a homemade meal made by somebody. 

"I couldn't possibly-"

Osamu huffs, arms akimbo, slate grey eyes narrowing.

"Nah, I insist. Ya can just come back again and order more if ya really feel bad… I… Onigiri Miya will always have its doors open."

As an editor and writer, Akaashi is used to reading between the lines. He catches what Osamu says. 

He's not sure why his heart clenches in his chest, but the faintest smile makes its way on his lips. 

"... I'll come back again, Osamu. Thank you for your hospitality."

Osamu's gaze settles on the smile on his features warmly. Something about it has Akaashi's cheeks tinting.  

"Anytime, Akaashi."

What starts off as a fleeting glance, keeps Akaashi up at night.

Looking out of his open window, he finds a sense of solace, even as he debates with himself internally if he should drop by Onigiri Miya again.

Falling asleep to the wind caressing his cheeks and the taste of onigiri rice balls, Akaashi's room remains dim, safe for the bright screen of his laptop, where a newly written chapter of his novel is typed in black and white.

Every end is the start of a new beginning. 

//End