adults au.

boys, girls, and all in between would wonder how you, of all people, could manage to snag the famous bokuto koutarou's heart.

"senpai! what's bokuto-san like?-"

"aye, my kouhai! you could teach me some of your tricks, huh?-"

and all comments you can think of in between, praise and criticism included.

"you're perfect for each other!-"

"they look horrible together—"

nevertheless, in spite of any and every opinion, you and koutarou would always stick together like superglue (and everytime either of you would make that joke, kuroo would whine, saying that he's the original puzzle piece stuck together with kotarou), absolutely unaffected by it all.

ironically, your boyfriend was the clingier one between you two; he'd always call you before practice, and even send you selfies during the little break in-between. while you most certainly were in deep admiration for him and his actions, it escalated to a point that you had to scold him for being late to practice more often than not. akaashi even made a joke about the sugary relationship, saying, "bokuto would probably take a spike in the face for you."

and even the strenuous exercise for a national player like the hyper man could not stop either of you from happily jumping into each other's arms, talking about each other's days, sharing food, and those discreet intimate moments.

the male volleyball team of japan had agreed to host a small, exclusive birthday party for their coach- whom you also grew to be quite familiar with after a number of video calls from your lover and fortnightly personal visits during the past five months. said lover had planned to invite you, but you declined, for you felt like you were an intruder to the party. after all, it was a party for the volleyball team, and although it flattered you to know that the boys saw you as part of the family, that didn't make you feel any less of a third party wheeler. instead, you promised to have a separate date night the owlish twenty-two-year-old, to which he jubilantly agreed.

"it's your turn to pick the place, koutarou,"

literally a day after the farewell party, date night- or rather, date day- happened, and now you glanced at koutarou who decided to visit your cozy castle at two in the afternoon.

"it was? i forgot. oops." he chirped, scratching his chin in confusion; you could only chuckle.

"well, that won't make me choose a place, kou."

without a shadow of doubt, koutarou it to bits when you called him that. it made him feel incredibly special, having a nickname made by a special someone just for him. in addition, it puts him in this i'll-do-anything-for-you mindset, although you didn't mean to do that; it was just a thing you picked up over time.

"aw! fine... oh, oh! let's go to the arcade!" he exclaimed, excitedly waving his hands in the air.

so off you two went, having yet another great time of your life. the two of you had gone on many, many dates, each just as wonderful, or sometimes even more, than the last. you never intended on spending excessively on dates despite koutarou's quick fame and money. he wasn't a millionaire but he was actually beginning to earn more than you. not that you minded, as long as he was by your side at the end of the day to whisper to you goodnight and cuddle.

arcade fun had to be cut short after an hour and a half when the overexcited man became hungry.

a meal wouldn't hurt.

"it's my turn," you spoke up, "and i choose to eat... there!"

you pointed to a humbly-furnished restaurant, and were just about to lead your lover there, when he tugged at your fingers gently, holding you back.

"uhm, can i ask for a favour?" he began slowly, and softly, you surrendered to softening your stance. to answer his question you nodded.

"can... can i choose where to eat?" it was as if he was feeling so timid about such a request, you almost laughed at that.

"of course, koutarou. i don't mind. lead the way!" you answered cheerfully, lifting his spirits as he immediately interlocked his fingers with yours, bringing you to a barbeque restaurant.

how unsurprising... of course he'd want yakiniku.

he unabashedly led you through the crowded, semi-smoky restaurant, until he found an open booth.

"wait here, i'll bring the meat for us to grill!" he chirped, so enthusiastically it made your heart skip beats. he didn't even wait for an answer when he dashed off, that smile never leaving his face.

unsurprisingly, people were able to instantly recognize the one and only boyfriend of yours. what caught your attention was the amount of people that actually had even the slightest interest in sports, but you remained unaffected- or so it seemed. you could feel strangers beginning to crudely stare at your relaxed figure, and you could practically hear their mental comments.

koutarou came back precisely forty-two seconds later with two plates of raw beef strips- for the yakiniku- and some vegetables to complete the wholesome meal. and some extra in case you wanted any.

as the athlete was grilling food, he seemed... bothered? he wouldn't look you in the eye, as if grilling beef was suddenly the most interesting thing in the universe. his movements were. much stiffer than usual, and he even gave more food to you.

well... i've found a topic for lunch time.

when koutarou finished putting food on his plate, and after you said your thanks for the meal, you gave a long, unwavering stare at said man, who still wouldn't look at you. it wasn't until you called him specifically did he make eye contact.

"kou."

he gulped his food down, and stared with those wide, golden pupils of his that emanated nervousness.

"yeah?"

"what's bothering you?" you asked, considerably softer than before. you even held his hand in assurance that it was okay, whatever he could bring on won't affect you. and it seemed to work, because the aforementioned man relaxed his tense shoulders, and his expression seemed calmer.

"promise you won't get mad at me?" he squeaked out, and his vulnerable gaze made you nod, eager yet sincere.

"of course; i could never get mad at you."

a beat; a pause. koutarou took a bite from his meal, and then scooted towards the edge of his seat, grasping both your hands like it was the end of the world. that sort of freaked you out, but you promised not to get worked up.

"i'm... i have to travel to europe for the next two weeks for the olympics."

out of the blue, you felt like stifling a laugh- for you knew it was about work and you trusted him anyway, but because of how your boyfriend seemed to feel about this, you sighed the feeling of laughter away, while trying to calculate wise and comforting words to say.

"that's all right, dear. you don't have to be so worrisome about that."

koutarou furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"huh? you're not upset if we get separated and i leave you?"

the fact that he raised his voice (though by the slightest) left you flabbergasted to some extent (and it was starting to catch the attention of other customers, which you tried to avoid as much as possible) but you refused to let that show. you also could not understand the words the way he did. nonetheless, you tried your best.

"what? we don't have to break up, if that's what you think."

that caught koutarou's attention, and he seemed to calm down reasonably.

"huh? how does that work?"

"we will just call and text each other every day. every night, if you're busy at daytime. don't worry, i will make sure there won't be a day i can't talk to you!" you grinned, ending the conversation by feeding him some food, to which he happily obliged.

about three days after the date, you found yourself in the airport waving your farewells to your one and only, as well as giving him the classic goodbye kiss. no, not that "one last time" kiss, but rather that "see you soon" kiss.

it could be both, though?

you slapped your face, catching your lover's attention.

"oh, there was a mosquito."

thankfully, koutarou believed you (despite it being the middle of summer), even scanning your facial features for any mosquito bite. when he was satisfied he treaded towards the plane with his teammates, waving another goodbye to you, which you returned,

you plopped down on the soft sofa, staring at the extravagant chandelier hanging right above.

koutarou always wanted a chandelier, for some odd reason. said the rich people always had one, i guess he wanted the world to know he was rich? even though we barely get visitors, pfft. you smiled softly at the nostalgic memory.

get yourself together! nothing bad will happen to koutarou, kuroo's practically a good luck charm. after convincing and scolding yourself, you fell asleep.

the last time bokuto koutarou contacted you was before he boarded the plane.

it's been eighteen hours, and there had been no sign of your beloved.

you glanced at your phone: 2:04a.m. and yet, you were still at the airport, waiting for the aforementioned male; you had been waiting for nearly six hours. every time you'd ask the staff what happened, they would dismiss you so naturally like it was part of their job to do so, sending you into a deeper internal frenzy. at one point you had to plead to a kind-looking attendant, who brought you to a far distance from the area where bokuto was supposed to enter; away from the other attendants.

"miss, i'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but... the plane that you're talking about... crashed."

the world stopped spinning and all other noise was blocked out instantaneously, as you subconsciously gripped the hem of your shirt, fiddling with it to no end. tears threatened to spill over your lashes and you wanted the ground to simply swallow you whole.

"re-really? as in, the madrid-to-japan flight? the one with the japan national volleyball team with it?" you choked, your confidence and strength failing. the attendant softened her gaze at the realization, that you were the supposed girlfriend of the legendary bokuto koutarou.

well, not anymore.

"um... yes. i'm sorry for your loss." she murmured, truly remorseful as she gazed at the shiny marble floor.

"no! no, you mean to say every single passenger is dead?" you cried, miserably attempting to cover your teary cheeks with the collar/hood of your jacket.

"we... we don't know. all we know is that the plane was hit in the first class area on the side, where apparently all the athletes are- were, staying." the attendant let out in one breath. uou put a hand on your mouth to cover up the uneven breathing and soft cries of emotional and mental agony, as your heart twisted and contorted in unending torturous pain.

you refused to listen anymore, but a part of you still wanted to know more, as if what she said wasn't enough. but you knew your heart wouldn't be able to take any more damage, and it seemed that the woman was anxious to say anything else.

"okay, uh-" you deeply inhaled- "uhm, th-thank you."

you were suddenly exhausted, and so you let your feet drag you away from the airport and into the outdoors, taking the first taxi home. it was only at home, when you truly cried and broke down, crying for your now ex-boyfriend's name, as if he'd come back to you.

re-edited!

—oct. 5, 2019