Work Text:
Thank you, I'll say goodbye soon
Though it’s the end of the world,
Don't blame yourself now
And if it’s true,
I will surround you and give life to a world
That's our own
- Porter Robinson
Life in Tokyo was fast. In a place where everyone had a destination, people went about their days in a rush. An overworked society that was always running, but yielding little result. Burnout plagued the working class, nobody had time for themselves anymore. Daily, the same routines were repeated.
Wake up.
Eat.
Work.
Eat.
Sleep.
Seeing people robotically function in their dazed states made Akaashi grateful for his situation. He had a forgiving job— as an editor he had to meet plenty of harsh deadlines. However, he wasn’t forced to be in an office 24/7.
He could work from his cozy apartment, snuggled close to his cat. Or he could change his scenery and go wherever he desired. Akaashi was efficient at his job, meeting deadlines wasn’t difficult for him when he approached his work in such a clinical way.
When he was free of editing he could work on his own personal projects, writing his own ideas to submit to Udai-san. He was planning to transfer to the literature department by the end of the year. Akaashi was good at what he did and both he and Udai-san knew it was just a matter of time.
There was one moment where it seemed like everything slowed down, despite going so fast. The moment you step on the subway is busy as ever, people rushing in and out, bumping against each other. But then, you sit, or find a place to hold on to the overhead rails. The doors close and you’re meant with silence. It borders on the line of being peaceful, but more importantly it serves as a break. A moment where everyone is still, everyone stops moving despite moving faster than they were before.
In moments like these Akaashi gave himself time to think, to breathe, to settle. He lets his mind go blank, or wander to Bokuto , and then, the train stops. The doors open and the air is filled with the scent of organized chaos again.
Sighing, Akaashi stepped off the train, allowing himself to get lost in the frenzy of commuters. He was nearing the exit when a homeless woman caught his eyes. There was no ‘spare some money’ or ‘i'm hungry’ sign. No, instead, in bright red paint and messy kanji, ‘MAY THE GODS SAVE THE POOR. IT’S THE END’.
A pounding of his heart that he could hear, rushing in his ears. There was no explanation for just why it set him on edge. Everything stopped, and he was frozen to the spot for a moment. What does she mean?
He tried to play her off as some crazy conspiracy theorist, except that this was no spectacle. She wasn’t waving the sign in anyone’s face or flagging down the nearest person to manically share her view on armageddon.
No.
Instead she sat, with a resigned air around her. She met his eyes from across the platform and it wasn’t the sign that scared him. It was the emptiness in her eyes. One that said ‘ It’s already too late for me’
Feet moved on their own, as he felt his body creeping towards her. The lady never broke eye contact, staring too deep into him for comfort. He was only a few steps away when the next wave of commuters barreled out of the train.
He broke from the trance, remembering what he had to do and wrote it off as paranoia. With the shake of his head, he was off to his destination.
--
His walk on the streets of Tokyo went much better. The crowded sidewalks and highrise buildings gave him a sense of comfort. Almost feeling that he was home. Akaashi was not a necessarily shy person, he didn’t love crowds, but he loves the ability to disappear into them. He was always one to support the person in the spotlight, not be it. Years of working with and knowing Bokuto told him that much.
Bokuto-san . The city lights and noises could provide him with comfort, but his home was never truly complete without Bokuto. His love, his partner in life. He remembered a time where he lived and breathed Bokuto. Now, they were closer, yet farther than ever.
Bokuto was in Osaka, pursuing his career in volleyball as an outside hitter for MSBY. Akaashi would never fault him for going after his passion. How could he? Bokuto still made it very clear it was still them vs. the world.
Every night, without a fault they video called, falling asleep to the sounds of each other's breathing. The calls would start with excitement in Bokuto’s eyes, telling Akaashi the tale of the day. Whether or not he hit the majority of his spikes, or gossip about his team. Sometimes Hinata, Atsumu, or poor Sakusa would have the phone thrust in their face if Bokuto hadn’t made it back to his dorm yet.
Akaashi would listen to him intently, his eyes crinkling with fondness as he watched his lively lover. He was completely and ridiculously enamoured with Bokuto. There was never any denying that he loved him, more than he’s loved anything else.
The topic would then switch to Akaashi’s day, Bokuto just as interested in what he had to say. Akaashi wouldn’t have much to say, unless he spent the day with Udai-san, Kenma, Kuroo, or Osamu. None of that mattered to Bokuto though, he listened to Akaashi drone about his mundane day with unmatched enthusiasm.
Akaashi pulled himself out of his thoughts long enough to avoid tripping over a crack in the sidewalk. He mused that he was going to see Bokuto soon. He arranged plans to travel there in three days, on Friday. He would get to feel the squeeze of Bokuto’s arms around him again soon. He felt warmth bloom in his chest just from the thought, that he was going to be able to kiss his stupidly adorable face over and over again.
Akaashi was so caught up, he almost didn’t hear the screech of sirens. He tried to make sense of the flashing lights as what looked like ten police cars with multiple plain black SUVs tucked between them speed by.
Weird. Despite walking these streets so frequently, Akaashi has never seen anything like that before.
He distantly wondered if there was some type of major emergency, as he kept going on his way.
--
Onigiri Miya was a magical place to Akaashi. While it may not be his favorite, ongiri came extremely close. It would be personally irresponsible if Akaashi didn’t take advantage of living near the best Onigiri place in town. Especially since he begged the owner himself to open a Tokyo branch.
Not only was he in kahoots with Osamu, who gave him pretty discounts in return for his business single-handley funding the store, it was a great place to do work. The interior had a nice bar seating area that faced the window. Akaashi liked to come here to do his personal writing, while people-watching in the sea beyond the store. It had a great view, and watching people come and go cleared his mind long enough to zone into his projects.
When he stepped up to the register, a cheeky smile on his face, he got exactly what he wanted. All of the employees recognized him by now, and Osamu would see his order from the kitchen. Akaashi usually stayed until closing, when they would catch up. Thirty minutes to an hour would pass and then Osamu would give him the leftover food for night and send Akaashi on his way.
He waited for his order to be called before looking towards his usual seating. The store didn’t have many dine-in customers today, so he thought he could switch it up for the day. Instated he pressed a table that was pressed up against the window, rather than facing it. He had a view of the door, the front counter, and the tv playing whatever news channel the employees set it to.
His seat permitted him to dramatically stare out of the window— all while stuffing his face with tuna mayo onigiris. In his staring, he noted a wealthy looking man stuffing what seemed to be boxes of groceries into the trunk of an expensive car. A driver seemed to be aiding him, and to Akaashi’s confusion, it seemed to be exclusively canned food. As the car zoomed off into the distance, Akaashi thought he was in the better position, able to stuff his face with onigiri rather than cans of spam or beans.
He started on his writing soon after, allowing himself to tune everything else out. His current project was about tragedy in love. He tried multiple times to brainstorm ideas, only to come up empty. Tragedy was something he had never experienced. When he tried to draw from his relationship with Bokuto, it left him more helpless.
The project was pushed to the backburner and he instead went to revise some ideas he sent to Udai instead. He got so caught up that he didn’t realize the store was almost empty. He looked around, noting that the employee at the front desk seemed to be particularly interested on the tv.
‘ This just in, tensions between Japan and The United States of America are rising. Both leaders gave vague threats towards waging war.”
...huh?
Before he was able to think too hard on what a war would mean, Osamu came out from the back. They both exchanged smiles, Akaashi nodding his head in thanks for the food.
“Long time no see. Been workin’ in the office more?” Osamu, once reserved towards Akaashi, now skipped small talk all together. They were comfortable enough with each other to have real conversations.
“Yes,” Akaashi admitted. “I’ve been having to meet a bunch of deadlines lately for Udai-san. I haven’t had time to myself like this for a while.”
Osamu gave a low whistle, setting a rag from his shoulder onto the table. “Yer alway’s overworkin’ yourself, ya know. Ya need to jus’ take some time alone.” he said, settling into the seat next to him.
The employee at the front counter turned the news up. “Um, Miya-san? I think something is going on.” they squeaked, eyes glued to the screen.
Akaashi let himself focus on what was being said.
“We are issuing a warning for the possible start of nuclear warfare. Both leaders have yet to back down, and multiple other countries have begun to take sides. We advise the citizens of Japan, especially those in Major cities to not panic. Instead please follow disaster protocols. Get inside immediately to a basement if you are outside major cities. People in the cities please immediately go to the nearest nuclear bunker.”
He didn’t know his hands were shaking until Osamu grabbed his hands. At some point Akaashi stopped listening, just feeling ice cold numbness spread over him.
Bokuto.
A million thoughts raced through his mind.
How do I stay safe?
“Aka--”
Do I stay with Osamu?
Where is Bokuto?
“--shi”
Am I going to die?
…
Is Bokuto going to die?
“Akaashi!”
He came back to his senses with a jolt. When he gathered his bearings he noted that several people were rushing outside, the lights in the shop were off, and the employee was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Osamu’s worried face stood centimeters in front of him. His lips were moving but Akaashi couldn’t bring himself to make sense of the words.
All he could hear was blood rushing to his ears, paired with static noise. Oh, he noted to himself. I’m about to panic again .
This time Osamu took action, and Akaashi felt himself being hauled over his shoulder. Then, they were moving. Akaashi could only register that everything was loud, so loud , and the brush of what seemed like a million people.
He felt his phone ring, more than he heard it. It was a special vibration he set just for Bokuto, so he could know it was him when his phone was silenced during work.
It was like everything hit him all at once, he was hyper aware that there were way too many people in the streets, of Osamu’s tight grip on him as he weaved through the people. Of how bright, yet blurry everything seemed to be. He wasn’t sure if Osamu was moving fast or if everyone else was.
He tapped Osamu’s shoulder, signaling him to let him down. Osamu complied, looking slightly worried, but Akaashi desperately needed to pick up the phone. He fished his phone from his pocket from one hand, and offered his other arm to Osamu. When he pressed the phone to his ear, Osamu seemed to get the message, and continued to lead him through the crowds by his arm.
“Tha nearest bunker is real close, don’t worry. We just have to hope they let people in fast ‘nough.” Akaashi noted his voice was strained, he was probably thinking about his brother or Rintarou.
Akaashi barely nodded his acknowledgement before Bokuto’s voice cut through the noise.
“Akaashi! Akaashi are you there?”
“Bokuto-san… I’m here.” Now that he was finally talking to his love, he found that words escaped him. What did he say? No, he heard the shaky note in Bokuto’s voice. He had to pull it together, for the both of them.
“Akaashi? It’s so noisy, I’m sorry. Are you-” He was cut off by the sound of something bumping into him. Akaashi noted that he heard several voices from MSBY in the background. He also heard someone crying.
“I’m about to be safe, Koutarou.” He wasn’t lying. At some they arrived at the front of the bunker. Osamu was now moving them along in the line to enter, and they were nearly at the entrance.
“I’m with Osamu and we’re at the entrance for the bunker. Where are you Bokuto, are you with the others?”
“Yes-- I’ll tell ‘Tsum ‘Tsum that ‘Samu is okay. We’re here- at the bunker but-” a huff, Bokuto sounded on the verge of tears. “‘Kaashi, the line is so long, and the warning sirens are already going off.”
No, Akaashi wasn’t even going to entertain that his inner fears might become reality. “You’re going to make it.” Now he could identify the crying in the background as Hinata, and he felt sick to his stomach hearing Bokuto attempting to comfort him.
“Koutarou, listen to me. You’re going to get in okay, just keep going through the line alright?” It felt vile that he had to say this as he walked into the bunker with Osamu. The other man was still guiding him towards a place to settle.
“Kaash--” static. “Som- to- ell- ou-'' Bokuto's voice crackled through his speaker, and Akaashi felt that familiar sense of dread again. Tears stung his eyes as he rapidly tried to blink them away. Is this the last time I’ll hear his voice?”
“Kou, please. ”
“I love you Keiji, I just needed to let you know. To say goodbye-”
“No. No goodbyes. You can tell me you love me when this is over Koutarou. I’ll find you.” his voice wobbled, and he couldn’t stop the wetness on his cheeks. Tears dripped from his chin to the floor.
“I promise, I’ll come for you. I love-” The call dropped.
Then the first bomb hit.