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Bokuto was—Akaashi noted, when the captain walked in Sunday morning—in one of his worst spirals.
The captain had warbled an unsteady good morning to his team and none of them missed the way he hurried away in a vain attempt to hide how glassy his eyes were.
Akaashi’s frown deepened minutely and he turned a curious look to the rest of his teammates, “Did anyone walk with Bokuto-san today?”
Normally, someone might have had something smart to say about the way Akaashi addressed their captain; today, however, everyone just shook their heads and the worried tension in the air easily carried into the gymnasium and onto the court.
Bokuto was sitting against the far wall, looking like he’d begun to stretch… in the end, he’d ended up just sitting there, hunched over and staring miserably at the floor where his hands splayed mid-stretch.
Something was definitely wrong. Bokuto had been the one to suggest meeting on their day off to practice—he’d made the decision Saturday afternoon before they all went home and hadn’t left much room for arguing; because he was insistent on not losing to Nekoma, even if it was a practice match—and he wasn’t even all there.
Normally, they’re all content to let Akaashi handle this—because if anyone can get Bokuto out of his mood with minimal injury, it’s their vice-captain. Today, however, given the way his eye gives a very noticeable twitch, they quickly, mutually decide against it. Onaga quickly distracts Akaashi with seemingly idle chatter, desperately hoping not to be on the receiving end of his temper, while the third years make a beeline for their captain.
//
Bokuto wasn’t paying mind to their surroundings. Even knowing they weren’t home anymore and were—theoretically—in safer company…
The thoughts turn even more miserable, a sob threatening to bubble from their throat; if home wasn’t safe, school wouldn’t be any different—
“Bokuto-san?”
Bokuto nearly screeches when Konoha’s voice suddenly sounds from above them and jolts backwards; it ends in a high pitched, strangled whine that they know comes out as a sob when their head collides with the wall, “Konohaaaaaaaa~! Whyyyyy~!?”
Maybe they can play it off. Maybe… maybe being around their team is enough. This is safe. This a familiar bubble of safety and they know that the concern in their teammates eyes is real… whether or not it would stay real or even still be concern….
They promptly wilt and quickly glue their eyes back to the ground, trying to sound playfully put off by the sudden invasion, “Mean Konoha.”
“Oh, I’m an absolute devil.” Konoha’s trying to tease them, his voice dripping in mock nobility, “Such a shame, isn’t it?” Bokuto manages a smile this time; it promptly wilts when the grandeur expression on Konoha’s face levels into a worried smile once more, “What’s wrong, Kou-chan?”
Konoha only calls them ‘Kou-chan’ when he’s really worried. Bokuto squirms and pokes at the floor in a dismissive manner, “Nothin’.”
“Kou-chan—”
“Koutaro.”
Bokuto promptly wails and latches onto their closest teammate—Washio, as it so happens to be—and nearly knocks Konoha over in the process; somehow, it ends in all of the third years sprawled on each other, with Komi whining about being crushed beneath three players over 180cm. Konoha promptly makes it worse by smothering Bokuto (who somehow managed to stay on top of the pile) to shield them from Akaashi. Komi wails even louder.
They’ll apologise later… when Akaashi isn’t glowering down at the third year pile. Bokuto lets out a throaty whine, trying to hide between Washio and Konoha with little success, “I didn’t do anything!”
“I didn’t say you did.” Akaashi’s concedes and his voice is level as ever, as is his expression. The third years all know better though. Akaashi may rarely change expressions but they all know the violent glint in his eyes.
The last time this happened was the year before—Akaashi was a first year, the rest of them were second years—when Bokuto and Washio were being harassed by third years from other clubs. It hadn’t really bothered either of them—they’d both hit their growth spurts early on and were used to being called names for being taller than other people; more so, they were used to being invited to the basketball club from the year before, though some invitations were borderline coercion. Akaashi hadn’t taken kindly to it in the least. To date, none of them are really sure what he did… just that it was definitely Akaashi’s doing when Bokuto and Washio were suddenly left alone and the entire basketball club was terrified of the volleyball club.
Occasionally, Bokuto manages to incur the wrath of their vice captain’s violent streak; Akaashi’s yet to actually lose his temper at his captain… but his cold shoulder is something Bokuto likes to avoid when they can. Akaashi’s cold shoulder makes him a lot less inclined to indulge in cuddles and… given the night Bokuto had, they’re going to need all of the cuddles they can get.
Their mood promptly spirals once more. It had been working, really; interacting with their team was enough to keep Bokuto’s mind off of it for a little while… but, inevitably, it all came crashing back down on them, harder each time. This time, they stubbornly latch onto Konoha, muffling the incoherent wailing against his shoulder.
The blonde just blinks and, with some effort, manages to pull his captain off the rest of their teammates, and begins to pat the streaked hair in confusion, “Kou-chan, what? I can’t understand a word you’re saying when you’re like that.”
Bokuto just mumbles more and locks up when a sigh—recognizably, Akaashi’s sigh—sounds somewhere to their left. They relax a little when a second hand is running through their hair, fluffing and petting the gelled up locks gently, “Koutaro… come on, now. I’m sorry I scared you.”
Bokuto peeks out of Konoha’s shoulder enough to give Akaashi the best puppy eyes they can muster, “Really, really sorry?”
Akaashi graces them with a miniscule smile and a rare display of public affection when he kisses their forehead, “Really, really.”
“… Okay.” Bokuto still sniffles, but doesn’t go back to hiding in Konoha’s shoulder at the very least.
“Have you calmed down enough to tell us what’s wrong?”
Konoha’s voice is gentle; behind them, Komi echoes his concerns, “Yeah… this is a bad spiral, even for you, buchou.”
Bokuto gives a throaty whine. This time, Sarukui’s hand is in their hair, giving a calm reassurance the same way Akaashi does, “Bokuto?”
When they look around, all of their teammates look concerned. Onaga’s hanging back, like he’s uncertain he’s allowed to be as concerned as he looks; Akaashi’s trying to smile for them, to keep the worry from showing too obviously; Konoha’s still petting their hair and has begun to add gentle kisses in with the petting; Komi’s starting to squirm in his spot like he wants to join in on the hugs while Washio keeps a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him still (and likely to keep from attempting the same). Bokuto ends up giving in; their lower lip is quivering and the tears finally start running down their face.
Konoha and Akaashi both startle; before either can react, their captain lets out a wail, “They hate me.”
Akaashi’s eye gives a violent twitch and he immediately yanks his captain away from Konoha, ignoring that he’s knocked his sempai over in the process. The other third year hisses, ready to yank Bokuto back, before Sarukui catches him and reminds him with a steady look that it is not safeto try intervening when Akaashi enters protective mode. The vice-captain isn’t paying them mind anymore and merely holds his captain as tight as possible—ignores that Bokuto’s hug is near crushing his ribs as well—and just keeps the hold until the wailing sobs die down to smothered hiccoughs. He makes a small noise in his throat for Bokuto to elaborate—if they want and they’re so grateful… because Akaashi—no. They all know that Bokuto will talk a lot easier when there isn’t pressure to do so.
And, eventually, they manage to. They’re pretty sure it doesn’t make much sense—they can’t recount it word for word, but none of their teammates interrupt. In the end, they end up clinging to Akaashi again, still sobbing because it isn’t fair.
They’ve never done anything wrong. They’re the captain of the volleyball team—one of the best teams. So why can’t their parents just let them have this one thing.
Eventually, they tires themselves out and nothing is left but the painful hiccoughs that follow crying and their teammates still looking worried. Akaashi’s finally let them go to breathe and has moved to rubbing at their back in gentle circles. His voice is soft when he finally speaks up, “Better, Koutaro?”
“No.” They answer honestly, miserably.
“Because your parents aren’t listening?” Akaashi supplies, easily, still keeping his voice gentle and shushing his captain when it results in a strangled sob, “Koutaro, you’re being ridiculous.”
Bokuto gives him a look of absolute desolation and then the rest of their team when there’s an agreeing laugh. They can’t even manage a huff when Konoha smothers them this time and starts covering their face in kisses, “Idiot, Kou-chan.”
As much as they want to protest, they can’t. Mostly because they areconfused as Hell. They just stare at their teammates when the others join in on the smothering. Washio ruffles their hair and laughs when it earns an annoyed, petulant noise of protest, “You don’t need their approval, Bokuto.”
They blink, startled; they don’t even have the mind to be delighted when Akaashi gives them another kiss (twice in one day—in front of their teammates none the less, never mind being in public—is an astoundingrecord for Akaashi), this time on the cheek, “We’re here for you, dummy.” He’s still smiling when he stands and holds out a hand to help his captain up, “Just tell us what you need… ok?”
Bokuto gives a rather dumbfounded nod and gratefully accepts the hand, stumbling a little when they’re pulled up and again when Washio claps them on the shoulder, “Good. Then let’s get to practice, right? You’re the one that dragged us out of bed this early on a Sunday. Might as well put it to good use!”
“And then we can go hang out and make our adorable underclassmen treat us today.” Konoha chirps, laughing and easily escaping Akaashi and Onaga’s grabbing range before he gets hurt, “Sound like a plan, buchou?”
“Y-yeah.” Bokuto’s still a little shocked; but, within minutes, there’s a bright grin on their face and, even when the rest of their team nearly collapses and complains for a break two hours later (well… most of them; Akaashi’s still standing, barely, but he’s giving them that look that says a break better be in the next few seconds), Bokuto’s still running around, happily smothering all of their teammates as they rest and try to get a few seconds of recovery.
They aren’t just captain of one of the best teams.
They’re the captain of the absolute best team ever.
This is literally the first Fukurodani fic I’ve ever written and the… third Haikyuu!! fic? This is also my first time dealing with a fic centered on gender identity so please be gentle and if I did anythingwrong in terms of pronouns please please please tell me. ;^; please;;;;
Also if you find any other errors, please let me know!