They lose their quarterfinal match at the nationals and Bokuto spirals into a bad mood that doesn't wear off no matter how long they give him to stew in it.
The entire team is disappointed, of course, but none of them are hit by it as hard as Bokuto. Akaashi watches him with concern, watches as he listlessly spikes the tosses sent to him in practice, slamming each one down with increasing force, even though he doesn't look even the slightest bit satisfied by any of them.
The rest of their teammates have come to learn that Akaashi is the best at dealing with Bokuto, for better or worse. They leave him to Akaashi to deal with, wishing him luck with it. He doesn't know whether or not to thank them; it's not as if they're wrong about it. Even now, Bokuto is more likely to respond to Akaashi's voice than anyone else, even if he just goes through the motions mechanically, without any enthusiasm.
Akaashi gives it a week, before he holds Bokuto back after practice to talk to him. It's their date night anyway, it's not like he's cutting into time that Bokuto is going to be spending doing anything else.
"Bokuto-san." He looks around, making sure that the club room is empty, that the rest of their team have already left. He waits a little longer just to be sure, and lowers his voice. "Koutarou. Talk to me."
"What do you want me to say?" Bokuto asks, with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "I'm sorry. I've said that so many times, but I don't think it's ever going to be enough. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm—"
"Koutarou," Akaashi says firmly, taking hold of his arms, tightening his grip until Bokuto falls silent. "When has anyone on the team said that it's your fault that we lost?"
"Me," Bokuto replies. "Lots of times. Weren't you listening?"
"You're wrong," Akaashi tells him. "It's not your fault. The fault never lies on just the one person, okay? You need to remember that. We lost to a better team. Because the six people standing on the other side of the net combined were better than the six of us combined. It just means that we need to practice more. It means that we need to be a better team. We're all good players. You're our ace. You're the best of us."
"And I still couldn't spike hard enough." Bokuto laughs quietly and it's a sad sound, as he hangs his head. "I couldn't stop them from blocking me. I just wanted us to get to the finals together, Keiji. I wanted us to win."
"I know that," Akaashi says softly. "We all did."
"It was going to be perfect," Bokuto sighs. "I was going to be perfect. For you. The perfect spiker. The perfect ace."
"Koutarou," Akaashi's hands hold the sides of his face. He rests their foreheads together and sighs deeply. "You don't have to be perfect for me. For anyone. I like you as you are. I like you for who you're going to be, for how you're going to grow. I want to see that. I want to go to Nationals with you again next year and I want us to be better than we were. I want to win with you next year."
That, at least, makes Bokuto crack a genuine smile. "Yeah. That sounds like something we can do."
"I like you regardless of whether we win or we lose," Akaashi tells him. "I like you because of who you are. That's not going to change."
Smiling, Bokuto pulls Akaashi into a kiss. "Promise?"
Kissing back firmly, Akaashi pulls back with a smile. "I promise."
FILL: SWAG 2016
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They lose their quarterfinal match at the nationals and Bokuto spirals into a bad mood that doesn't wear off no matter how long they give him to stew in it.
The entire team is disappointed, of course, but none of them are hit by it as hard as Bokuto. Akaashi watches him with concern, watches as he listlessly spikes the tosses sent to him in practice, slamming each one down with increasing force, even though he doesn't look even the slightest bit satisfied by any of them.
The rest of their teammates have come to learn that Akaashi is the best at dealing with Bokuto, for better or worse. They leave him to Akaashi to deal with, wishing him luck with it. He doesn't know whether or not to thank them; it's not as if they're wrong about it. Even now, Bokuto is more likely to respond to Akaashi's voice than anyone else, even if he just goes through the motions mechanically, without any enthusiasm.
Akaashi gives it a week, before he holds Bokuto back after practice to talk to him. It's their date night anyway, it's not like he's cutting into time that Bokuto is going to be spending doing anything else.
"Bokuto-san." He looks around, making sure that the club room is empty, that the rest of their team have already left. He waits a little longer just to be sure, and lowers his voice. "Koutarou. Talk to me."
"What do you want me to say?" Bokuto asks, with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "I'm sorry. I've said that so many times, but I don't think it's ever going to be enough. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm—"
"Koutarou," Akaashi says firmly, taking hold of his arms, tightening his grip until Bokuto falls silent. "When has anyone on the team said that it's your fault that we lost?"
"Me," Bokuto replies. "Lots of times. Weren't you listening?"
"You're wrong," Akaashi tells him. "It's not your fault. The fault never lies on just the one person, okay? You need to remember that. We lost to a better team. Because the six people standing on the other side of the net combined were better than the six of us combined. It just means that we need to practice more. It means that we need to be a better team. We're all good players. You're our ace. You're the best of us."
"And I still couldn't spike hard enough." Bokuto laughs quietly and it's a sad sound, as he hangs his head. "I couldn't stop them from blocking me. I just wanted us to get to the finals together, Keiji. I wanted us to win."
"I know that," Akaashi says softly. "We all did."
"It was going to be perfect," Bokuto sighs. "I was going to be perfect. For you. The perfect spiker. The perfect ace."
"Koutarou," Akaashi's hands hold the sides of his face. He rests their foreheads together and sighs deeply. "You don't have to be perfect for me. For anyone. I like you as you are. I like you for who you're going to be, for how you're going to grow. I want to see that. I want to go to Nationals with you again next year and I want us to be better than we were. I want to win with you next year."
That, at least, makes Bokuto crack a genuine smile. "Yeah. That sounds like something we can do."
"I like you regardless of whether we win or we lose," Akaashi tells him. "I like you because of who you are. That's not going to change."
Smiling, Bokuto pulls Akaashi into a kiss. "Promise?"
Kissing back firmly, Akaashi pulls back with a smile. "I promise."