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It’s not that he hated his newest assignment, it was just… inconvenient, if he may call it that. He always did his best work at night, when the city was asleep and he was left alone with his thoughts, ideas that manifested through the simple work of his hands and found their way into real life. Keiji could think and relax best when it was dark, which meant he stayed up far into the night to finish his countless projects, starting from a sketch on a blank piece of paper and finishing it on a canvas filled with colour and love. His tiny but comfortable studio apartment was filled with various of those projects, some finished and hanging proudly on his walls, warming up the cold white. Others were scattered on the floor, just leaning abandoned, waiting for Keijii to remember that they still exist.
But alas, Keiji had a new project to focus on and this one was making him want to pull his hair out and bash his head into the wall. As an art student, most of his projects were bound to what his courses required him to do with only a hint of liberty and luck of whether he had some free will in choosing what he would like to create. Most of his courses were picked by Keiji depending on, first of all, whether he had a semblance of choice about what his lecturers expected from the students, and second of all, what time of day the course was set in. Anything before 12? Immediately a no. With his sleeping schedule he would consider waking up before 11 his own, personal hell.
This usually went well the last few semesters, but this one? All interesting courses were before 11 am, and there was only one course that began at 3 pm, sadly one that required weekly mandatory museum excursions with work to be done there. Museum excursions in the morning.
Which was exactly why caffeine addicted Akaashi Keiji, was standing in the middle of the most recent art exhibition of his local museum, at 8 am, surrounded by the most annoying and energetic, noisiest people he ever had the displeasure to meet. Multiple fellow students tried talking him up, but with Keiji’s usual morning grumpiness this was set out to be a failure from the very beginning. Not only was this course filled with people who loved to hear their own voice before 8 am, all chipper and frolicking through the exhibits, but the assignment was to analyse and sketch out multiple art pieces, just copying what he saw and then break it down. Study the art pieces to then re-create them.
Don’t get him wrong, he loved going to the museum and studying the history of each art piece that captured him, to analyse how the composition worked and why, what effects it had on the viewer, but usually he used the newly gained knowledge to apply it to his own ideas and refine them, using them merely as a reference. Just copying what he saw had always been his least favourite way of studying art pieces, and now he was stuck in a course that was only doing that. At the end of the semester they were supposed to choose one of the art pieces to hold a presentation on and re-create it completely, not just sketch it and move on.
He heaved an exasperated sigh, just hoping he would find some difficult art pieces that could at least keep his mind busy and awake, since him being out of his apartment at this ungodly hour was already enough of a punishment. With quick but quiet strides he walked away from the groups that started to form, to venture out on his own, still not having found the internal motivation to interact with the others in his course. This museum was big, bigger than the ones he usually visited, so he had to orientate himself. Just walking though the big halls with all the magnificent paintings already gave him some ideas for a new painting he’d like to work on after this course, something grandiose with beautiful landscapes, maybe even people dancing in front of a big lake, something fantastical to keep his mind off of his mundane, way too quiet life.
He had no idea where he was walking, but he knew somehow that he really wanted to go to the furthest hall, way in the back and away from the better known paintings. Gripping his sketchbook and pencil case tighter, he kept walking, and right before the entrance he had to take a pause to exhale softly, heart beating faster with no idea why. Probably the caffeine. Definitely the caffeine.
With no more hesitation, he finally pushed open the door and found himself in the sculptures and bust section of the museum. On the sides of the room there were multiple statues, some smaller and some bigger, most of them human sized and human looking. They were standing on beautiful stone pedestals, giving each and every statue a feeling of grandiosity and being bigger than life. Warriors, gods, even peasant-looking figures were displayed beautifully, honouring their life and ideals. Keiji stepped in quietly, suddenly feeling like he was disturbing them in their silence, not honouring them enough for their artistry and life.
He stepped closer and walked by them, taking a good look at each and every one, a pressing energy making him feel like he had to show them respect, which was weird since they were just sculptures, nothing more. And yet he continued walking, reading each of their plaques and sketching them half-heartedly, suddenly remembering why he even came here in the first place. Just as he reached the end of the row, he turned and noticed a singular statue standing at the opposite wall of the entrance.
He was standing on a higher pedestal than the others, looking mightier and bigger, but at the same time smaller because of his hunched pose. One of his hands was reaching down, looking like he may be waiting for someone to take it .His other hand was sitting right above his heart. The hair seemed to have been carved like it was spiked up, and even though it was stone, marble, Keiji felt like that hair may have been softer than one might’ve imagined. Beautiful garments laced half of his upper body, showing off the massive amount of muscle. Though it was a stone figure, the re-created flesh, especially the face, looked soft and loving, there was no danger radiating from him, it was inviting and kind.
Keiji’s breath hitched, completely overwhelmed by the mere presence of him, the might and kindness immediately to be recognised by Keiji’s trained eyes.
This statue was not created to be feared, but to be loved, worshipped even.
With even more careful steps, Keiji walked up to the statue, instinctively bowing his head to show his respect. His eyes caught the plaque, which said that this statue has existed for many centuries and only recently resurfaced, finally having found a place in the museum. It was supposed to represent a deity of the night with the name long lost. A protector for the creatures of the moon and those who identify with the dark more than the light. Humans of his time have given him the name Bokuto , since old paintings and scriptures represented him with the great horned owl. A tiny smile showed up on Keiji’s lips. Now that he was standing closer to him, he felt even more overwhelmed by the inviting energy and might. From where Keiji was standing, he was nearly face to face with Bokuto’s hand.
He’s waiting for someone to take his hand, maybe a lover?
Touch him.
The artist raised his hand carefully, just mere inches away from the deity’s.
There was something so loving in the way he was holding out his hand, as if it was made to hold this special someone’s and only this one’s, the curve of his palm carved too specifically. The thought of someone having existed who was loved this intensely that the shape of their hand was carved into their lover’s hand for eternity made Keiji’s heart swell with affection and a hint of sadness, for he wished too that someone’s love for him would transcend centuries, even planes of existence if this really was a deity. A voice in his head was urging him to put his own hand into his palm, but he knew that this was a silly thought.Besides, he was still in a museum. Maybe once he inhaled too much paint thinner he would actually think about touching an art piece, but right now he could stop himself from acting out irrationally.
Slowly he lowered his hand again as he shook his head free from the overwhelming voice in his head. A shift in energy was noticeable to Keiji, which he attributed to his own disappointment over not being able to feel the softness of the marble under his fingertips.
Remembering once again what the purpose of the visit to the museum was, he took a step back and opened up his sketchbook again, sitting down on a tiny bench right behind him. He had to sketch him, stay here longer and indulge in that invitation as if it was for him.
There was no explanation for why he suddenly had the urge to stay and sketch this specific statue, all Keiji knew was that he would love to understand the love this statue was radiating. Who would capture this deity’s attention so wholeheartedly that even the mere recreation of him was bursting with affection for this secret lover? By now he was pretty sure that this statue must have been carved by that lover.
Keiji took one last look at the deity’s face before finally looking down at the empty page of his sketchbook, now grabbing his favourite ink pen to start sketching the bare anatomy of this beautiful man, thoughts straying to how he may have looked like as a human, outside of the constraints of the white of the marble. What colour did his eyes have, his hair? Whether his teeth were crooked, whether his laugh was as boisterous as he was imagining.
“You have a pretty big chest, did you know that?”
Talking to his sketches has always been a thing that Keiji did. First it started subconsciously, and then a classmate told him that he was weird for talking to the paper, which made him stop sketching when surrounded by others, another aspect of why he initially hated the idea of sketching in the museum.
But now that he was alone in the room with no ears to listen to his ramblings, he decided to not restrain himself anymore. Somehow, the urge to talk was even bigger than usual. Keiji was pretty sure that this time he was not only talking to the paper, but to the statue itself, hoping that the deity wouldn’t mind his mindless talking and comments regarding his body. Somehow he had the urge to apologise. “I’m sorry if that comment was unnecessary, I just always talk whenever I sketch, hope you can forgive me,” the raven haired artist whispered gently while smiling at the statue, knowing that there was no one to respond, and yet he felt like the statue may have forgiven him. He continued to ramble about what he was sketching and thinking about, all the while, for the first time, feeling like there was someone actually listening to him and whatever his brain was spewing out in the moment.
Time passed quickly whenever he was busy with art. It occupied his mind and distracted him from the harsh reality of being a student with a low social life and parents who wished for him to become a lawyer. Here, in this moment, he was nothing more than just someone in his element, letting the ink of his pen flow freely over the paper with a deep rooted love for the act of creation. Slowly, he started to build up the wannabe recreation of the mighty deity from bare bones and mere shapes, a meager attempt at capturing the true magnificence of the radiant beauty, only to be remembered in marble.
Just as he wanted to look up at the statue’s face did he notice how perfectly the sun hit his eyes, seemingly painting them in a gentle yellow. A little gasp left his throat as he continued to stare at the beautiful statue in front of him, now even more illuminated than he already was, the star patterns carved into his garments shining in tandem with his eyes.
Keiji thought he looked like a star, himself. An unreachable, bright star shining through the universe and guiding others through the dark.
Guiding him.
Too lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice another person enter the exhibit and slowly make their way towards him. “It’s been a while since someone visited this old man,” an older but gentle voice spoke behind Keiji. Jumping out of his skin, Keiji turned around and faced the older man. He had his hands behind his back, gray hair matching the soft wrinkles forming on his face. Keiji jumped up, gripping the sketchbook tightly against his chest now, “I’m sorry! I hope I didn’t trespass. There was no sign, “ he bowed his head slightly in apology, ignoring the feeling of someone gently petting the back of his head.
The older man chuckled gently and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “No need to apologise. This exhibit is open to the public, but since it’s in the far back most of the visitors don’t bother to come here. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Takeyuki Yamiji. I work at the museum, specifically this exhibit. May I know to whom I owe the pleasure?” – “ Akaashi. Keiji Akaashi, nice to meet you, Yamiji-san.”
Yamiji smiled and bowed his head at him, seemingly pleased with his manners.
“I guess you are part of the excursion? An art student?” he motioned towards his sketchbook with his head. Keiji just nodded, not knowing whether he should continue talking about his studies. Thankfully, the older man looked away from Keiji and towards the statue.
“Don’t be put off by overexcited visitors, Akaashi-kun, alright?”
Just as he was about to ask what he meant, he got the notification to return to his lecturer and gather their findings for the first day, so he just nodded and wished him goodbye before scurrying off to the exit. He could hear Yamiji-san say something, but it didn’t make sense to Keiji, so he just ignored it and finally left to regroup with his fellow students.
“Oh don’t be offended for calling you an old man..”
For weeks he came back daily to sit in front of the statue and sketch him, sometimes he sketched what he imagined his face to have looked like outside of the marble, other times he thought of other poses that would capture the devotion and love intended for the deity’s lover. His ramblings continued, sometimes he even felt as if there was a far away laughter responding to him, other times he could swear he felt eyes on him, gentle, watchful eyes. There was this energy in this room, a soft blow of wind and pressure around his body as if there was someone holding him gently, at least that is what Keiji would imagine it to be like, to be held by loving arms not intended to hurt, but to comfort and protect him from the cruelty of this world.
He knew this type of assignment didn’t require this much attention and to visit the museum daily, but as of recently he really learned to appreciate the presence of the statue, even fixing his wacky sleeping schedule just to see that beautiful glow to be cast on his eyes every morning, even if it was only a glimpse of what his true glory may have been in the past.
“I used to play Volleyball up until my first year of high school,” he whispered to the by now third sketch on this page, the hint of a smile creeping up on his lips “ but I never had enough motivation to actually continue it, especially not after spraining my ankle. My parents just said ‘good riddance’ in hopes of me finally following their footsteps in becoming a lawyer just like them. Sadly, to their demise, I found a passion in artistry. Finally being able to express my emotions in a way only I would understand..it liberated me in a way.”
His pen continued to shade over the muscle he sketched out while rambling away about his life and misery. “My parents think I’m a failure, and maybe they’re right.”
“I don’t think you are a failure.”
Nearly dropping his pen, he jumped and turned around at suddenly hearing a stranger's voice in the usually empty exhibit, only to come in contact with the broadest chest he had ever encountered in his entire life. Curious eyes traveled up that chest and came in contact with the gentlest face he’d ever seen, a smile so contagious he felt like the whole room just lit up. The stranger was wearing a cap, hiding his seemingly black and white hair, his eyes looked dark from under the shadow of it. He jumped over the bench and sat down right next to Keiji, their shoulders touching gently.
“I mean, sorry for just saying that and maybe peeking over your shoulder, but from what I’ve seen in your sketchbook I wouldn't call you a failure! You’re talented!” The stranger spoke with a way too loud, but sincere voice. His words still rung in Keiji’s ears, seemingly still processing the honesty and brashfulness of him. Normally, Keiji would’ve run away at the prospect of social interaction with strangers, not one to just tell every passerby his sob stories, but somehow he didn’t feel like just shooing away that man. Something about him seemed inviting, calm, even familiar. Keiji had no other choice than to indulge in that conversation.
“Thank you. I usually don’t think that way about myself either, sometimes my thoughts just stray and then I find myself in that self-deprecating loop, but it’s nice to have some outward confirmation of me not being a failure,” a tiny chuckle escaped Keiji’s lips. Where his sudden lightheartedness came from he didn’t know, and yet it felt natural being so open. In moments like these, Keiji would usually just shut his sketchbook and leave the room just to avoid any more socialising, but weirdly enough he didn’t have that urge right now, a sudden feeling of familiarity overcoming him. Out of instinct his gaze strayed towards the statue, as if it were a beacon of comfort for him, like asking the deity for permission to talk to that stranger.
Talk to him.
“I’m Koutarou by the way! And you??”
“Akaashi Keiji, pleased to make your acquaintance, Koutarou.” He turned back to Koutarou, slightly uncomfortable about addressing him with his first name, but he knew better than to ask for his last name, even if something inside of him was telling him to push. Once again he ignored the unknown voice in his head.
“Soooo..why so interested in that statue? Is it the spiky hair?” Koutarou let out a chuckle while nodding his head in the direction of it, a hint of mischief ringing through his voice.
“It’s for my seminar, we are supposed to choose an art piece, study it and re-create it in a similar fashion.” – “So you chose him, huh? Any reason?”
Now.
How was Keiji supposed to explain to a complete stranger that he felt a weird connection to that statue as if he would understand its deepest desires, like it was speaking to him and giving him comfort, so much so he changed his daily routine just to sit here and stare at marble.
Best he didn’t, so he picked the less embarrassing explanation, the lie: “Because it’s easy. Statues don’t have a lot of composition or world building going on.” His gaze shifted away from Koutarou and back towards the statue. Koutarou looked at him with a knowing smirk. “Really? You look like someone who would actually enjoy a challenge! Ahh but whatever. Doesn’t matter as long as you’re happy with your decision!”
A grin spread across his face, radiant and filled with the power of a thousand suns, nearly giving Keiji whiplash. It was incredible to him how a single person could look so happy while talking to him, as if that whole conversation was the highlight of his day.
It most certainly was Keiji’s, even though he would never admit that.
The stranger, Koutarou, looked back at the statue and studied it with a curious eye. Stuck at the reaching hand something indecipherable crossed his face. If Keiji were to guess, he would say there was a hint of longing washing over his eyes.
“This..deity, did you know his lover was a human? He fell in love with a mere mortal after crashing into his garden in his owl form. That human could have shooed him away, but instead he took him in and cared for his wounds, making sure that owl wouldn’t die in the wilderness,” he gulped as if he was sharing his own pain, “He only stayed for one night, but he came back the following ones bearing gifts. The human didn’t understand that the deity was courting him, which in retrospect was to be expected of a human who didn’t know the god of the stars destroyed his gardenias and then wished to marry him.”
Keiji didn’t even realise how his smile grew bigger with each aspect of that silly story, not caring where Koutarou knew that from or whether all of it was just a lie to keep talking to him. All he knew was that the genuine love in Koutarou’s eyes was real. “Seems like the owl should have introduced that human to the idea of courting before, well, courting him,” he whispered gently while having the feeling of a deja vu wash over him. A boisterous laugh rang through the exhibit with Koutarou holding his stomach while hunching over, genuine happiness radiating off of him.
“You know, I think this is exactly what that human said to him, too!”
Warmth spread though Keiji’s chest and travelled to his head resulting in him blushing gently. This familiarity and easiness of conversing with him felt like this was meant to be, like it happened once before.
“Well, did they get married in the end?”
Another grin spread on Koutarou’s lips, while he jumped up from the bench. He held out his hand to Keiji while bowing down slightly, right in front of the statue and nearly mirroring the pose. A sudden flash of recognition passed through Keiji’s mind, but he once again dismissed this as pure coincidence, or rather wishful thinking. Carefully, his eyes looked up at his face, nearly blown away by the rawness of his expression, filled with adventurous giddiness and the unexplainable hint of love, as if he’d been waiting for Keiji to ask that question.
Finally, he lifted his hand and carefully laid it into Koutarou’s palm, surprised at how nicely it fit, like his hand was made to hold Keiji’s. Palm so perfectly gentle and curved that no other hand would even come close to that feeling of home. Tenderly, Koutarou pulled Keiji up to his feet and straight into his chest, his other hand having found its way to the small of his back. A little gasp left Keiji at the sudden close proximity of their face, finally being able to see the beautiful face up close, now looking even softer than before. Just as Keiji’s thoughts began to stray and his eyes to wander down to his lips, Koutarou pulled him closer to the statue, turning Keiji around so that his back was flush against his chest. Heat once again spread over his face. The handsome stranger leaned down a little to be closer to his ear, his hand passing his waist to point to the statue’s hip where a belt had been carved. A belt Keiji apparently had completely ignored in favour of staring at the statue’s chest.
Don’t judge him.
There, hanging next to the belt was a chain with two rings hanging on it.
“The human said that he would marry him once the deity travelled over the entire world, for this was the deity’s biggest desire, well next to that human. He wanted to see the world, get to know all the cultures and meet thousands of people, and the human knew that he wouldn’t be able to if he was stuck by his side. So they made a promise to each other, that once the deity saw every corner of this world, that he would return to his world. And the human promised to wait.”
His voice was soothing and gentle next to Keiji’s ear, telling the story with barely a whisper of a voice for there was no need for his usual loudness, there was only one person important enough to hear this tale, and that person was none other than the one pressed flush against his chest.
“Travelling the world takes some time, you know? And human lives..they’re short-lived, one blink of an eye and a human passes away, so the deity gave his human a gift. As the god of stars, he reached up into the sky,” Koutarou’s hand found itself in Keiji’s and lifted it carefully to the ceiling, his gaze never leaving the raven’s, “and plucked the shiniest star from the nightsky, gifting it to his human lover, a promise to find him in every lifetime. The human would be attached to the star, his soul becoming one with it while keeping it alive, on this very earth. Now, every time this human died he would be reborn again, still waiting for his deity to return from his travels to keep the promise he made. Because how dare he even think of staying dead before his god even had the chance to return?”
Their hands were still pointing into the imaginary sky, Keiji’s hand laying against the palm of Koutarou’s like it belonged there.
“This statue is the last remaining possession of that human before he died the first time. He carved it for his deity to find, and for the humans after him to remember his beloved, his star. Who knew this human had this much love in him that he remembered every single detail of his body without seeing him up close for many years? Fascinating that devotion,” he finished as his lips just barely grazed Keiji’s earlobe causing him to get shivers all over his body, his knees nearly giving in with that low baritone of his voice still echoing in his mind. Slowly they lowered their hands again, still not letting go. Carefully, Keiji turned his head to face the mysterious stranger who invoked this weird feeling of safety and recognition deep inside of him.
Don’t ignore it.
He ignored it.
Finally, after breaking free from the trance of being enveloped in the loving arms of this stranger who just burst into Keiji’s life mere minutes ago, his brain started working again, “How do you know all that? I’ve been coming here for weeks now and I only know what is written on that plaque.”
Koutarou just grinned and shrugged.
“I’ve once read up on it in some old book!”
As if that would answer all his questions.
Heaving a sigh, Keiji just turned back towards the statue, knowing that Koutarou wouldn’t give up more insight into where he found that book, and whether he was actually telling the truth. His gut did say to trust him which was new for his usually overly anxious nervous system, so he indulged in that newfound feeling of tranquility in his body. Just as his body was starting to relax even more into the hold of Koutarou’s arms, he pulled away carefully and took a step back, making Keiji turn around in question. “I need to go, but I hope I’ll see you again soon, Keiji?” His voice was louder again, no longer an intimate whisper only shared between the two of them, and yet it still contained all the gentleness it had before.
Having lost his voice somewhere along the way, Keiji only nodded, hoping he wouldn't scare him off with his silence. Koutarou only smiled as he turned around and left the exhibit, leaving behind a dumbfounded Keiji who now had more questions than answers.
The sun was slowly descending upon the horizon as Keiji finally finished his newest painting, specks of colourful paint dusting his face, not to mention the monstrosity that became of his hands, now coated as well. A deep sigh left his lips as he leaned back and let the painting breathe for a moment, hell he needed that break, too. Ever since he met Koutarou at the museum he didn’t leave his mind for a single minute. Their shared moment, him laying in his arms, it all overwhelmed Keiji with questions that he didn’t know whether he actually wanted the answers to.
It had only been three days since he had been to the museum, finally allowing himself a little break to process what he’d learned, and yet he felt even more exhausted than before. His sleep was riddled with curious dreams and the feeling of longing, but Keiji did what he did best: he ignored it.
He shook out his head and stepped away from his painting to let it dry, knowing he had to tear his eyes away from it before he started seeing mistakes where there were none. Quiet steps carried him to his balcony, gently opening the door to step outside and listen to the sounds of the city and the birds chirping at each other, at last breathing in some fresh air instead of his oil paints. At this point he wouldn’t even be surprised anymore if his lungs had gotten used to that more than actual fresh air. He looked around the little forest area right in front of his balcony, watching a pair of crows caw at each other, then cooing and cuddling up. The smaller one nuzzled its beak into the bigger one’s, both shook out their tailfeather’s excitedly, especially the smaller one which seemed to vibrate with energy. If Keiji knew better, he would say that the bigger crow looked fondly at the other one.
Mates, huh?
Didn’t crows mate for life? Must be nice to have someone be this committed to you. Instinctively his gaze shifted towards the balcony right next to his, where his neighbours lived. A lovely couple with two cats, a black and calico one. Keiji would sometimes see them sitting together on the balcony. On other days their human owners were sitting there instead, the smaller one with bleached ends usually on his phone, seemingly unhappy about the prospect of being subjected to direct sunlight while the other bathed in it. There was something unhinged about the taller guy, not only was his hair probably the nest of the two crows cuddling in front of his balcony, but his eyes always looked like he knew more than Keiji, which irritated him beyond belief. Whatever he thought he knew, he was wrong, and Keiji would make sure to keep it that way.
Maybe he was a bit petty, but ever since that guy tried to strike up a conversation with him over the balcony, he knew he couldn’t stand his extroverted guts. At least he had the smaller one on his side since he whacked the taller one over the head for “creeping out the new neighbour”.
Yeah, at some point Keiji definitely thought that he would like him. Once he jumped over his shadow he could invite them over for dinner, or bake them cookies. He’s always been told to surround himself with likeminded people, people who would understand him and push him towards greatness. Wishful thinking, for finding gay people who didn’t care about the conventional life of family and wealth was harder than it looked like.
He wondered where they were currently.
His gaze drifted off again, this time towards the sky where the night had slowly started to set in, the stars illuminating the world with the help of the moon. Constellations spread across the deep blue of the sky as they shone for guidance. Once again his thoughts were filled with that deity, Bokuto, as he barely dared to call him. The human he fell in love with must have been ethereal to catch the attention of the incarnation of the stars and be desired so intensely that his love was echoing through time and space.
A loud hoot ripped him out of his contemplation, eyes immediately trying to find the source for this noise until they landed on an owl sitting close to his balcony, up on a branch staring up into the sky.
Another hoot echoed through the night, this one longer and more sentimental sounding, as if it was calling out for someone.
No one responded.
Didn’t owls mate for life, too?
A sad little smile showed up on Keiji’s face, he hoped this owl would find their mate. Everyone deserved to have someone to get back to. The owl stayed there for a while, just staring up at the stars, seemingly counting the constellations before it lowered its head and looked around, eyes now locked in on Keiji. Its eyes, bright yellow as if hit directly by starlight, seemingly lit up the moment they landed on the tired artist. As if he was the one the owl was calling out to.
With no time to spare, it lifted its wings and jumped off the branch, gliding through the air, up towards Keiji’s balcony, landing on the banister right in front of him. He took a step back out of instinct and respect for the wild animal. Not knowing what to do he just stayed there, watching the beautiful bird rouse its feathers and tilt its head at him. A gentle hoot left the animal, addressed to Keiji.
Carefully, he stepped closer and looked at the bird. Its feathers were grey and white, some speckles of brown dusting it, and from the height of it, it must have been a male one.
“Oh you poor thing, are you looking for your mate?”
“Hooh-!”
“Mhhm, I’m sorry, I hope you find her.”
The owl seemed to widen its beautiful yellow eyes as if it were offended at what he just said.
“...or him..?”
The owl nodded.
As if that day couldn’t get any weirder, but at least he now had someone to talk to. Seemingly unsatisfied with the distance, the owl scooted closer to Keiji, making himself bigger and leaning towards him as if he wanted to be pet. All survival instincts left Keiji’s brain as he slowly lifted his hand and pet over the tiny head of the bird of prey, gasping softly at the softness of his feathers. A series of chirping and cooing sounds echoed through the night as the owl leaned into the pets, gently flapping his wings and shaking out his tailfeathers like a dog would wag its tail. Without disturbing the peace of the owl, Keiji took a picture and reverse searched it to find out what type of owl it was.
Huh, a great horned owl.
That specific species rang a bell in Keiji’s mind, but he didn’t dig deeper to unveil where he heard it last, right now all he wanted was to enjoy this magical moment he was sharing with the beautiful bird. The owl leaned into the pets and continued to hoot at him with such a gentleness it nearly made Keiji tear up. Something about that bird reminded Keiji of the tranquility he felt whenever he visited the museum, specifically the statue of his favourite deity, which he once again didn’t question.
“Seems like that flying chicken finally got some courage to fly up here, huh?” a deep, and to Keiji very grating, voice spoke right next to him. To know who just opened their mouth and voiced their unneeded opinion, Keiji didn’t even have to turn his head. Yet, he still looked over at the rooster-looking guy, just casually leaning against the banister with that usual smirk of his. The owl shot the guy a massive stink eye in combination with a very irritated hoot.
“I mean, I’ve seen that little guy fly around and scream pathetically for his partner for quite some time now,” he nodded in the direction of the owl, which had roused its feathers and clicked its beak at his annoying neighbour. If this weren’t an owl and a human, Keiji might’ve thought that they were bickering like old friends.
Open your eyes.
He looked back at the little owl and petted his head gently, “Don’t mind him, he’s just a loser”. The owl calmed down immediately and cuddled into Keiji’s side, at that point he had stopped questioning everything and just accepted that he had found the world’s most trusting owl. His annoying neighbour feigned a hurt gasp, clutching his chest as if his heart just broke into a million pieces.
“Don’t be so shocked about someone clocking your shit, Kuro,” a quieter voice spoke from the back of his neighbour’s balcony. The tinier neighbour stepped closer and crossed his arms at his boyfriend.
“Kenma!”
Oh, so Kenma was his name.
It sounded familiar.
Friends.
“Excuse him, he thinks he’s cooler than he is. Thank you for not falling for his fake charme like I did,” Kenma spoke gently and wrapped his arm around the still sulking rooster-head, “I am Kenma Kozume, and this is Tetsurou Kuroo. Nice to finally talk to you.” Still processing the last few minutes, Keiji needed another moment to realise that he hadn’t introduced himself yet, something he had done more times in the span of the past few days than he did in his entire life.
“Akaashi Keiji, nice to meet you, too,” he responded with a gentle voice. Kenma looked at him with curious eyes. Inexplicably, he thought he might’ve seen a deep sadness in them whenever his gaze returned to Keiji.
Remember him.
His thoughts were interrupted by the gentle chirping of the owl cuddled up into his side, as if it was unhappy with the loss of attention. Quickly, Keiji continued petting his head, a smile lacing his lips again at the affectionate owl looking to be loved.
A shiver ran through his body at the cold wind picking up speed, wrapping his arms around himself. Only then he realised that he stayed longer than anticipated, “I should probably head back in. I have to get up early tomorrow morning. Have a good night,” he bowed his head at his neighbours and then gave the owl one last pet before retreating back into his apartment.
“Good night, Keiji..”
“He’ll remember, don’t worry, Ken. This time he will..”
A boisterous laugh filled the sunlit room as Koutarou hunched over in joy.
“Wait wait wait wait, so what you’re saying is that you really spilled tea over your lecturer’s pants because of a butterfly?!” – “Butterflies are disgusting, don’t laugh at my phobia! Like.. what was I supposed to do when it decides to use my face as its resting spot? Stay calm and collected?” Keiji huffed at Koutarou who still couldn’t contain his giggles at the idea of tall Keiji being afraid of butterflies, and no matter how much Keiji tried, he also couldn’t stop himself from giggling along with Koutarou.
They’d been sitting in front of the statue for hours now, just talking about their lives, enjoying each other’s company in the early hours of the day. Keiji had stopped a while ago to deny himself the pleasure of accepting Koutarou in his life. It was easier to let him in than he thought, as if that’s what had been missing the entire time.
Keiji had always felt like he was born with a massive hole inside his heart, like a part had been ripped out long before he was even born, an uncompleted puzzle from the very beginning. And slowly, he could feel the lost piece return back to his soul, day by day, conversation by conversation he could feel light enter the darkness of his soul.
It scared him.
Especially now that his project was nearly done he had no reason to come back to the museum, to his deity. And to admit to Koutarou that he’d been coming here because of the deep connection he felt to carved stone, and to Koutarou himself, was a step of vulnerability Keiji didn’t know whether he was ready to take.
So, Keiji did what he’d been doing best as of recently: he ignored the impending doom of having to reveal just how desperately he wanted to see Koutarou outside of the museum, how he’d been dreaming of going on a date with him. How, whenever his gaze fell upon his lips, he wondered how soft they would feel against his own.
But for now, he shook away those thoughts and concentrated on the story Koutarou told him about his recent travels he just finished.
“Do you have family here?”
“Well…! You could say so, yeah,” the white haired stranger, who to be honest, hadn’t been a stranger in a while now, replied with a twitch of the corner of his mouth. He was sitting on the floor right next to Keiji, chin propped up on Keiji's thigh, watching him sketch with gentle eyes. Keiji stopped sketching for a moment to look at him and raised an eyebrow in question, which Koutarou understood as Keiji wanting more information for this nonspecific answer. “My best friends have lived here for a very long time, and there's someone I wanted to go back to, someone waiting for me. Now that I've seen the world, met some people and witnessed some traditions first hand instead of just reading about them, I finally completed my first life goal!”
“What's your second life goal?” Somehow he had an idea what his answer could be, and yet he wanted to hear him say it, no matter how much it hurt.
“To marry the love of my life of course!” He played with a silver chain that peeked out from underneath his shirt, a habit Keiji noticed Koutarou had whenever he was talking about the deity or his travels.
And there it was again, that beautiful, lovesick smile Koutarou sometimes had on his lips. A smile so blinding it made Keiji's heart race with the same amount of affection, even though he knew this smile wasn't meant for him.
“She must be a patient one to wait for you to finish your travels,” he nearly spat out, the jealousy barely contained in his voice. Hopefully his face didn't betray his true feeling of envy. Just as Keiji wanted to look away, Koutarou frowned and looked like a bird ready to rouse its feathers in anger. “....he..?”
Now he nodded with a smile, and somehow Keiji felt his heart grow lighter. “I hope he wasn't too lonely waiting for me! My best buddy promised to keep him company and is boyfriend got himself a new best friend in that deal so none of them should complain!” He finished with a pout on his lips, the twitch in them told Keiji that he was desperately suppressing a grin, one that Keiji knew all too well. “If I may say, if I were in the position of your lover, I'd be very thankful to have some company. And to be quite honest, I think I would've done the same, I couldn't live with myself if I knew that my partner had to give up their dream just to stay by my side. That's too cruel of a thing to do to their love.”
Koutarou nodded gently while his eyes grew softer with each word Keiji spoke, looking up at him as if he himself had been a deity deserving of being worshipped. Strong, and yet gentle arms wrapped around Keiji's legs while Koutarou nuzzled his cheek into his thigh. “You're so sweet, Keiji. The sweetest!”
The artist's hand stuttered over the paper while heat spread through his entire body, finally nesting in his abdomen, transforming into a swarm of bees buzzing through his stomach with affection.
And in that very moment did Keiji notice that he stopped drawing the statue a long time ago. Instead, looking back at him from the white abyss was Koutarou’s smiling face as replacement of the deity's blank one. He quickly snapped his sketchbook shut, making Koutarou jump and look up at him with an anxious expression. “Are you okay? Did something happen??” Big hands grabbed Keiji's slender ones, holding them gently as if they were the most precious thing he'd ever touched. Big eyes, still shadowed by the cap he was wearing, were looking up at him, checking his face for any type of hint to what just happened.
“I just realised I have to go, I'm sorry. Have a nice day, Koutarou.”
He jumped up, grabbed all his things and fled the room before Koutarou even had the chance to stop him from going.
Chest heaving, quiet gasps leaving his throat. White knuckles holding his belongings as if he'd drop them should he hold them more lightly.
What was he doing.
He couldn’t fall for someone whose heart already belongs to another.
Another man.
Not Keiji.
All this time he kept dreaming about the gorgeous man who showed interest in him, actually cared about his silly stories and asked clarifying questions. This was wrong, so very wrong it made his chest clench in pathetic pain and desperate longing. He knew with his heart racing and breath growing more ragged that he was close to his monthly panic attack, the one he planned for next week.
Rapid steps found their way home subconsciously, very glad for his anxiety prone brain to at least bring him home without any conscious effort, also very thankful for the neighbour who held the door open for him. He raced up his steps, shaking hands grabbing the railing to not fall down and reverse his progress. Finally at the top, he just had to find his keys. Somewhere in his jacket, or bag? Did he even take them? What if he forgot them somewhere?
A sniffle escaped him, which broke the dam, now making his shoulders shake and cloud his mind with the most horrible scenarios of where he could've lost his keys, which would mean that someone probably already stole them and now he had no way to get in and paying for someone to pick his lock was not in his budget this month–
“Keiji!”
His sketchbook fell to the floor alongside his pencil case, someone else turned him around and grabbed him by the shoulders.
Kenma.
“Just take a deep breath and think of the roses in your mother’s garden. Smell the roses, blow out the candles,” he spoke gently and massaged his shoulders with strong hands. Keiji had no other choice than to listen to him, shakily taking a long breath and then releasing it while his eyes fell shut to imagine the roses his mother tended to lovingly. Slowly his mind started to calm down, his rational thoughts booting up again. Another shaky breath escaped him as the tears retreated back into the deepest corner of his soul, to be bottled up again and shoved into a quiet corner to be freed another day.
“Thank you,” the artist whispered with a rough voice, nodding and fixing his glasses.
“What happened? You look like a ghost, even more than usual,” the concern in Kenma’s voice was evident, still looking all over him just in case he needed help again. Only after he saw that Keiji calmed down did he bend down to pick up his belongings. "Everything was too much for a moment, and when I realised that I probably lost my keys, it just spiraled. I’m sorry that you had to witness that.” Kenma only smiled and pet over his shoulder, not even asking permission before pulling him into his own apartment. “You can chill here for a while, I’m sure you’ll find your keys again, but for now you should have some water,” Kenma rambled on while pulling Keiji into the big living room, sitting him down on the sofa. While Keiji just let all of that happen, still calming down from his attack, Kenma went into the kitchen to fill up a glass of water and bring it over to Keiji.
There’s something off about the apartment, something was missing.
“Didn’t you and your partner have cats?”
As if Keiji unveiled a big secret, Kenma just froze in the middle of the room, blinking two times before awkwardly scratching his neck. “They are with a friend currently. We will get them back soon.”
He’s lying.
Keiji just nodded, trusting his very real neighbour more than a hallucinogenic voice in his head. Finally he took the glass from Kenma and nearly gulped it down in one go, not having realised how dry his throat had gone.
Now that he had calmed down, Keiji took a closer look at his awkward neighbour fiddling with the sleeve of his way too big hoodie. His hair was pulled up in a bun, looking cozy and as if he didn’t expect to see people that day. Keiji felt sorry about that.
“Do you wanna watch me play Stardew Valley?” he pointed towards the TV where the game had been paused temporarily. Once again, Keiji could only nod, and yet he somehow knew that Kenma didn’t mind. This silence, which in any different situation should have been awkward, was a comfortable one here, like they just knew how to interact with each other without words or big gestures. The two smiled at each other, Kenma now finally sitting down next to Keiji to continue with his game. Kenma pulled his knees up to his chest, now fully sinking into the hoodie, Keiji just crossed his legs and leaned back carefully.
Both were just sitting there, silently enjoying each other's presence without any unnecessary comments to breach the quiet, both very much okay with minimal exchange of words. Even though Keiji long stopped questioning whatever was happening in his life, he was still a curious one.
“Where’s your partner?”
“His ‘best bro’ had a crisis which means he had to go to him before he did something stupid,” a small chuckle left Kenma’s lips. What he found so funny Keiji didn’t understand, but he guessed that it had something to do with an inside joke he wasn’t part of.
“Oh, I hope it’s not too bad then?” – “It’s usually not, but with that guy you never know. Just expect them to burst in at some point-”
And as if on cue, the door flew open with a loud bang, disturbing the peaceful atmosphere of what Keiji secretly called his safe haven now. Kenma just let out the most annoyed groan and stopped his game again, a frustration filled whine ringing through the living room.
“WHAT IF HE HATES ME?????”
“I swear he does NOT, you’re just overthinking this!’
And now Keiji knew why Kenma let out the world’s most pained groan.
Heavy steps walked into the living room, Keiji just turned his head when his eyes fell upon the one person he just fled from.
Koutarou.
When their eyes met over the short distance between them, Koutarou, whose posture was slumped, paused his overdramatic portrayal of heartbrokenness. He seemed to hesitate, eyes lit up in what Keiji could only describe as hope.
The last bit of panic in the artist’s eyes vanished, seeming happier than he would’ve liked to admit to see his museum partner. This, apparently, was enough of a sign for Koutarou that everything was fine between them.
“KEIJI,” Koutarou’s overjoyed voice echoed through the living room, immediately rushing towards him to fall to his knees, putting his head on his lap, “I was so worried when you just ran away! And then you lost your keys, but you didn’t hear me say your name so I panicked and then I called Tetsu, and now you’re here safe and sound!”
Without any hesitation, Keiji just fell into his arms and gripped him tightly, the anxiety finally leaving his body. His eyes fell shut as he buried his face in his neck, inhaling the comforting scent of cologne and detergent, not caring right now about the fear of overstepping. Relief was flooding his mind over not having lost his keys, one issue less and a grave one at that, too. After some hesitation, strong arms wrapped around Keiji and pulled him even closer now, Koutarou’s face buried in Keiji’s hair. One hand slid to his neck while the other held him tightly around his waist, lovingly cradling him as if he was a porcelain doll that needed to be handled with care. Slowly, Koutarou pulled Keiji more onto his lap for him to sit more comfortably, the focus clearly on Keiji’s comfort and sudden need for affection.
“Thank you for having my keys,” the raven’s words barely a whisper in Koutarou’s neck, voice still shaky. Gentle goosebumps rose on Koutarou’s neck as Keiji’s breath hit his skin, slowly transforming into a full body shudder, the grip tightening around his body. “You’re welcome, I’m just glad you’re okay.”
They were in their own little world, completely forgetting that they had some company.
“God they’re still as dramatic as ever…” – “Just let the lovebirds be, Kenma. You’re just jealous.”
“Am not.”
“You are.”
“Am not.”
The day Keiji dreaded the most had finally come.
Keiji officially finished his painting, the semester was nearly over and he had already gotten more than he’d bargained for. Not only had he finally talked to and actually befriended his neighbours, but he found the gentlest and loveliest person in the entire universe. Koutarou, who always saved him a spot in the museum and brought him a coffee, nestled himself deep into Keiji’s heart. He had no idea what to do now that he really had no reason to come back.
Right now, Keiji was standing right in front of the statue, looking up with a sorrow filled gaze, not ready yet to say goodbye. For the first time since this semester started Keiji left his sketchbook at home. Today he wanted to focus on the statue itself, not on how it was created and by whom. The deity had been part of Keiji’s life for many months now, even though Keiji’s attention shifted away from the statue towards his heart’s newest desire, the one he couldn’t have.
“I came to say goodbye, Bokuto. I know it’s stupid and maybe silly, but having met you gave me something that I haven’t had in a while. Hope, and fun. Thank you for that”
“I don’t think it’s stupid, actually. I think he would appreciate it”
At this point Keiji didn’t have to turn around to know who was standing behind him, the voice burned into his head like a prayer. The owner of that beautiful baritone voice stepped closer, now standing right behind Keiji. Personal space had never been a thing Koutarou respected with Keiji. “So you’re done with your painting? Can I see it?” Keiji knew he shouldn’t invite him over, to let him in even deeper.
Let him!
“Okay..! How about now?”
The taller one nearly jumped in happiness at the prospect of finally seeing one of Keiji’s paintings. His hands grabbed Keiji’s waist and pulled him even closer now, his chin resting on his shoulder. “Then let’s go!”
“Wait,” the raven haired artist had to fight against all of his instincts to not melt into the tender and warm arms of Koutarou, “I still need to say goodbye to Bokuto.” He wrung himself out of his arms and stepped closer to the deity, his gaze saddening under the prospect of leaving him behind, leaving that deep connection behind that he had cherished so much over the past few months. “It doesn’t have to be a goodbye, you know..,” Koutarou replied with a pout gracing his lips, as if he himself was the one who was being said goodbye too.
“I don’t have a reason to come back here anymore now that I’m done with my painting, as much as I’d like to. And I do miss sleeping in a lot,” he chuckled gently while looking up at the statue with a loving gaze, “But I wanna do something stupid.”
“Well, go on,” even though Koutarou tried to hide the pain he felt at hearing Keiji say that, the grief he was feeling was evident, “But what do you wanna do?”
“Watch me.”
Carefully, Keiji lifted his hand to finally lay it in the one reaching out, surprised at how perfectly his own fit into the deity’s. It reminded him of how Koutarou held his hand, so gentle and careful like he was the statue, and yet enough strength to feel the love radiate from that single touch. Before he could think more about the familiarity of the touch, Keiji rose up to his tip toes and put a gentle kiss on the deity’s cheek, soft lips pressing against the cold marble. To not alarm any security, he stopped sooner than he would’ve liked, finally turning around, facing Koutarou with a proud grin. But Koutarou had his face in his hands, red ears betraying him.
Feeling bold, Keiji walked right up to Koutarou and wrapped his hands around his wrists to free his face from his hands, the face flushed in a dark red. He slid his hand into one of Koutarou’s and pulled him with him. “Come on, I wanna show you my painting.”
Koutarou just followed along, face still tinted red, eyes trained on him like a puppy.
“Like I’ve said, please don’t judge the state of my apartment, I usually never have people over,” Keiji spoke carefully right before they entered, already having repeated himself multiple times on the way back from the museum. Koutarou said he couldn’t care less, that he would accept Keiji in every condition of his life. Since then Keiji had tried to ignore the tingling sensation in his stomach.
The key barely turned and Koutarou immediately barged in, scouting out the place, looking for any type of hint towards Keiji and his personality, as if he wanted to breathe in the very essence of what made Keiji, Keiji. The apartment hadn’t changed in weeks, the only new things were some more paintings, most of them inspired by the deity. Only now, did Keiji notice just how different his style of painting became after finding the statue, and even more so after meeting Koutarou. Although he would never admit it out loud, Keiji had always felt like he was missing a muse, someone who would give his paintings meaning and make them emotionally enticing, but instead all he was able to achieve was the physical image of emptiness.
Neither Landscapes nor cities were safe from Keiji portraying the loneliness that comes with being alone in a crowd. Someone has always been standing alone, off to the sides looking wistfully into the distance. None of the humans ever had faces. They were just caricatures for his feelings. Feelings of deep loneliness accompanied by the ripped out part of his soul he had been searching for all his life. And just now, for the first time, now that someone as bright as Koutarou was standing in front of the darkness of his paintings, did Keiji actually notice what had been missing all his life.
Koutarou was still looking around with fascinated eyes, in love with every painting, especially the abandoned ones on the floor, seemingly looking for reasons why Keiji didn’t think they were worthy of being finished. He took his time appreciating every brush stroke and intentional flaw, a soft smile filled with true appreciation laced his lips. At last, Koutarou noticed the latest painting on the easel, the one Keiji had worked on the entire semester.
It was a perfect recreation of the statue, but in human form, the backdrop a soft night sky accompanied by stars and the moon. The deity’s face was obscured, intentionally hidden by the shadows of the night, yet he seemed to glow more than anything else in that painting. Right as Koutarou was looking at it, the sun set slowly over the horizon, casting a soft golden glow into the apartment and onto Koutarou’s face. Standing so far away from Koutarou he nearly gasped at the true magnificence standing in his living room, especially once he turned towards Keiji with an awe-filled expression.
The sun was setting right behind his head, the glow of the rays casting a halo above his head, and that was something he couldn’t ignore anymore.
He couldn’t ignore how much warmer and fuller he felt ever since meeting Koutarou, how the night sky felt more like a home than the sunlight ever did.
How he seemed to know Koutarou as if they met each other a long time ago, the love coursing through his veins like he was born with it, with the stars woven into his DNA.
The memories of a thousand lifetimes crashed into his mind, making his head spin with millions of conversations and intimacy, moments of comfort and promises that transcended time and space until the stars were re-written to carry his name. Keeping it safe from the eternal slumber.
Akaashi Keiji, 22, struggling artist and caffeine addict, finally opened his eyes and remembered how the emptiness in his chest came to be, for he gave away his heart a long time ago, to the only person who would ever be worthy of it.
“Kou.”
“Yeah?”
“You came back to me.”
Koutarou, who has been watching his face with hope written across his very own, gasped softly at Keiji’s words. Having waited for this moment for centuries to come, the period of painful waiting and distance had finally come to an end. He knew the moment he looked into his eyes, the loving sparkle finally more prominent than before, no longer in denial over the obvious truth of a century long love.
As if struck by lightning, Koutarou came dashing down the few metres in between them and immediately pulled his Keiji into his arms, the most boisterous, loudest, but happiest laugh rang through the apartment. He picked him up and spun him around, not caring for any collateral damage he may have caused to his surroundings. The only thing that mattered to him in that moment was Keiji, who was finally his. No longer able to wait he leaned down and crashed their lips together in a passionate kiss, the longing and pain of being separated for so long coursing through them until the kiss reflected just that. Hasty hands wrap around Keiji’s waist, no longer careful to not hurt him, this time finally being allowed to press into his skin to make it remember who it belonged to. Keiji’s hands immediately cupped his face and caressed his cheeks gently. They were shaking from the adrenaline and slight exhaustion of remembering a thousand lifetimes. A little whine left Keiji as he had to pull away for air, then a little chuckle against his Koutarou’s lips.
“At least you didn’t destroy my gardenias this time.” – “I already apologized!”
They both laughed at the shared memory, still lovingly enveloped in each other’s arms, right where they belonged. Koutarou, who had finally lost the cap to let his spiked hair breathe, wiped over Keiji’s cheek since he apparently started crying at some point. “I knew you’d remember me, my world,” he whispered against his lips right before pressing another gentle kiss onto them, no longer able to hold back any of his affections. “If I hadn’t been so stubborn, I would have remembered a lot sooner, I think my past self tried to help me.”
“Let me guess, you ignored him?” – “Of course I did, who do you think I am?”
Another laugh filled the cold room with warmth and love, this time it was Keiji who pressed another kiss to his lips, carefully swallowing the laugh of his star.
Now it was Koutarou who pulled away, carefully letting go of Keiji to take a step back, “Now that my love can finally remember me, it’s time for what I should’ve done centuries ago,” he whispered before pulling the chain out from underneath his shirt where two silver rings were dangling.
“Yes!” – “Let me get on my knees, god Keiji! I wanna do this right, jeez-”
The lovebirds couldn’t stop giggling at each other’s antics, too smitten even after all these years apart, their love not wavering even once.
Centuries later, Koutarou found himself once again kneeling in front of Keiji, holding his hand with gentleness and care, the other holding out the ring engraved with stars.
“I’ve said this before and I will say it again: You are everything to me. Ever since the moment you picked me out of your gardenias – which I still am very sorry for – I knew I needed to have you, to have you be mine forever. Your love for the world and its inhabitants inspired me to be better myself, to care about this silly world and witness it myself, through my own eyes and with my bare hands. And not only did you love the world, but you also loved me, the stars who kept shining only for you ever since. All the constellation's brightest supernovas were created out of love for you, Keiji. Finally, after my travels I realised that the world is nothing against my world, you Keiji Akaashi. As long as the stars continue to exist will I love you, to eternity and back. May the dark be gone from your life, I’m here now as I promised to you years back, so will you now keep your promise, too, and marry me? Become the world my stars shine for?”
As always, Keiji could only nod, for his voice was lost in the sobs pushing through his throat, too overwhelmed with the insane amount of love he was feeling for his deity, his star, his Koutarou.
As he finally slid the ring onto his finger, Keiji caressed his cheek, pulled him up and kissed him once more, the saltiness of his tears mixing in-between the taste of their lips.
The kiss was a short one since they heard loud meowing coming from Keiji’s balcony, interrupted by two way too noisy cats who could not keep to themselves even if they wanted to. They were sitting on the banister, the black one wrapped around the calico one.
Pushing Koutarou away, Keiji ran to the balcony door and flung it open.
“YOU”
Before either cat could react, Keiji already grabbed the calico one and cradled him in his arms, the black one hissing at the loss of his partner, now swatting at Keiji’s arm. “How dare you not befriend me sooner, you little shit!” he gasped at the calico cat, who finally wrung itself free from Keiji’s arms and transformed back into the human form Keiji had grown to love in his past life.
“Well, we didn’t wanna overwhelm you, and you seemed fine with the way it was,” Kenma finally spoke, the usual sadness in his eyes, about which Keiji finally had an idea why it was there in the first place, gone. The black cat finally transformed back, too, now there was the one face Keiji could live without sitting on his banister with crossed arms. “Don’t believe him, Ji, he couldn’t handle you not recognising him,” he revealed with a smug grin, obviously gaining himself a whack over the head by Kenma, who didn’t deny Kuroo’s addition.
As much as Keiji wanted to hate Kuroo and his smug ass, he missed him, too.
Koutarou finally followed, now wearing a pout over being interrupted in his sweet moment with Keiji. He wrapped his arms around him and pulled him back into his chest, seemingly no longer capable of any physical distance. A big, wet kiss was planted on Keiji’s cheek with a smack sound in combination with a satisfied hoot.
“Well, I guess we should leave the lovebirds for now, they have a lot of catching up to do,” Kuroo giggled while pulling Kenma back to the banister, both transforming back to jump over to their own balcony.
Here, in Koutarou’s arms where warmth found itself back into Keiji’s body, he knew he finally found his way back home.