Chapter Text
Bokuto ran his hands over the spines of the paperbacks like a child, settling on a blue hardcover book near the end and pulling it out dramatically.
Kuroo snorted. “I told you, there’s no secret passage. I would’ve found it by now.” Bokuto glared at him and defeatedly tucked the book back in. It’s one of the thousands in the used bookstore, books covering just about every inch. Paperbacks, hardcovers, ones that have been taped so many times that Bokuto can’t read the titles, others that are practically new, dozens upon dozens.
Bokuto pulled out the book next to the one he just tucked in, visibly deflating when nothing happened.
“Bro,” Kuroo sighed. Bokuto had been dragged here by the one and only, Kuroo the nerd, claiming he needed new reading material. On the other hand, Bokuto periodically picked up a mainstream adventure book and read it incrementally, slow to the point where he forgot the first chapter before he hit the main problem.
“Go look in the second aisle over there,” Kuroo said without lifting his eyes from the book titles. “Find something.”
Bokuto was about to complain when Kuroo glared at him. He pressed his lips together, they had to be quiet. Classical music was playing softly, bells jingling whenever the door was opened. The bookstore itself radiated peacefulness, filled with yellow light and plants in every crack where a book wasn’t.
Wood creaked under Bokuto’s feet as he ducked into the narrow aisle, scanning the spines. Contemporary coming of age books it seemed like. Bokuto recognized the name John Green as he skimmed other titles, fidgeting and reading the backs. However, they weren’t much help. How was knowing the book was a New York Times bestseller going to inform him of the actual plot of the book?
“Hey Bo,” Kuroo appeared at the end of the aisle, carrying three books. “This is the third aisle. Anyways, Suga-san here can assist you. He’s the nerdiest nerd there ever was.”
Suga, a soft silver-haired employee, grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment, coming from you.” Kuroo disappeared, probably to find more dead trees with ink laced up with string.
“So, I’m Suga.” The employee turned his attention to Bokuto.
“I’m Bokuto,” Bokuto responded, smiling broadly back before glancing helplessly at the books.
“Looks like you’re looking at young adult kind of romance?” Suga examined the shelves. “What are you interested in?
“Honestly,” Bokuto huffed, “I don’t know. I’m not that much of a reader.”
Suga laughed respectively. “You’ve got many grand adventures ahead of you then. In general, what do you like?”
Bokuto racked his brain. “Um, books with jokes and happy endings usually. And no Shakespeare.” Bokuto shuddered from the memory of his English class. He was infinitely glad second year was over, it had been brutal.
“Alright.” Suga’s eyebrows drew together thoughtfully. “So let’s go with something less traditional. How do you feel about adventure? Romance? Horror?”
“Uh.” Bokuto was out of his depth. “Adventure is good. I like that. Romance is okay, but it’s alright if that’s not the main focus. Horror’s alright.”
“Perfect, okay. Wait here, I’ve got two good ones in the back.” Bokuto nodded. Suga reappeared with two books on top of each other momentarily.
“So I’ve got The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and Turtles All the Way Down. They’re both teen fiction, nice if you’re getting back into reading.” Bokuto picked up the first one.
“I think I’ll try this one.” He’d heard about this one from Kuroo. Something about it being great and everyone should read it before they die or go blind. Bokuto promptly thanked Suga, and paid, finding Kuroo outside, eyeing more books than the five he already had.
“Kuroo!” Bokuto yelled as he thumbed the first page of the book open, horrified. His friend was on the opposite side of Bokuto’s room on the floor, completely absorbed in another book.
“What,” Kuroo responded, annoyed.
“There’s writing in this!” Bokuto flipped through a few pages. There was deft, sketchy writing in margins done by a gray pen.
“Yeah,” Kuroo said unfazed. “It’s a used bookstore Bo. People draw in the books all the time and then trade them in.”
Oh.
“Can I write in it?” He grinned at the possibility.
“You could. But generally it has to be related to the book. Not like what you had for lunch or something. And go easy.”
“I know that.” Bokuto picked up a black pen and hovered it over the inside cover when he realized he didn’t know what to write. The gray pen had left a list of books by the same author, a quote, and a doodle of stars along with a name. Akaashi Keiji - May 14, 2018.
Bokuto scratched his name down, under Akaashi’s. Bokuto Koutarou - June 9, 2020.
As he got drawn into the plot, he scanned Akaashi’s grey marks subconsciously. They were sparse at first, growing until they covered page numbers, decorating the edges of each page. Bokuto learned in between doodles of scenes that Akaashi underlined character and plot points, arrows led to margins with thoughts, and that circles around quotes were rare and for emphasis. Very funny, or beautiful, or applicable ones that needed to be stressed, Bokuto only found a handful. The margins were full of comments on the character’s actions, author’s word choice, concentrated jot notes and light sketches.
The dry humour in the book was continued in the grey pen, witty jokes and clever allusions. Bokuto wrote quips back periodically, most of the time underlining Akashi's comments and doodling absentmindedly. His hands got used to the weight of the book as he sunk into the story, deciphering the gray words and grinning along the way. It felt like reading the book parallel to someone else, real time commentary that was just as interesting as the book itself.
Bokuto surprised himself when he finished the book after six days. Akaashi and his gray pen left a book recommendation at the back, Looking for Alaska by John Green.
Bokuto surprised himself again when he found himself in the used book store with Suga, specifically asking for Looking for Alaska. Suga grinned and traded Looking for Alaska for A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy for Bokuto. Flipping over the front cover, he checked for Akaashi’s name. Bingo.
Looking for Alaska wasn’t as funny as Hitchhiker’s, and Akaashi’s commentary reflected that. It was deeper, picking through the character arcs and circling good metaphors and passages. Bokuto appreciated this John Green guy, even though his writing style was different. Not as interesting to Bokuto, but the gray pen circled a lot of quotes, emphasizing them, so Bokuto figured John Green was talented if Akaashi liked him that much.
One of Us is Lying.
The Fault in Our Stars.
It.
A Very Large Expanse of Ocean.
Percy Jackson.
Eleanor and Park.
Bokuto found himself going back to the book store every week, sometimes twice to pick up a new book. He would have never considered picking up any of them, save for Akaashi’s recommendations.
The gray pen got him through It’s scary scenes and the depressing end of more than a few romance books he may have ugly cried for. Tear stains mangled the ink, Akaashi also having marked places where his own tears had fallen. Bokuto loved the jokes in Percy Jackson, even though he was probably a little old for the series, laughing out loud every chapter with Akaashi’s grey pen, favouring the words “dam”, “schnist”, and “nobody”.
Kuroo had been floored when Bokuto had pulled out The Fault in Our Stars, interested in this so-called “Akaashi Keiji who has done the impossible, converting Bokuto into a reader”. And Bokuto had to admit he would like to know a little more about the boy reading these books before him. Who listed character traits, called out any mistakes loudly, drew hearts around romance scenes and broken ones around tragedies. His marks were endearing, like a side adventure only Bokuto knew about.
About two months after finishing a Hitchhiker’s Guide, Bokuto was scanning the shelves for a book called The Hate U Give, the latest recommendation from Akaashi Keiji. He was wandering around, worried someone else had already taken it out since it wasn’t in aisle three. Bokuto rounded the corner to find a boy perched on a counter, reclining against yet another wall of book stacks and eyes crescented as he concentrated on the book, immersed in another world.
He looked up, startled at Bokuto’s footsteps. Lips parted slightly in surprise, a pen poised in his right hand that he tucked behind his ear.
“Hi.” Bokuto just really had a talent for conversation.
“Hi,” the boy greeted, sliding off the counter. He was tall, on the side of lanky, and his aura radiated quietness.
“What are you reading?” Bokuto asked after a second, bothered by the contrast of his voice that was interrupting the silence of the book store. The boy blinked at the question, as if startled, and then raised the closed book while stepping forwards. There was a paragraph on the front instead of a title, and a design of multicoloured lines caught Bokuto’s eyes.
“I’ll Give You The Sun by Jandy Nelson.” The book was flipped over, held out to Bokuto, description up. Bokuto took it with care, eyes skimming the synopsis. Two twins, NoahandJude, who grew from inseparable children to intense rivals.
“Is it good?” Bokuto asked the raven haired boy, reading the cover. We were all heading for each other on a collision course, no matter what. Maybe some people are just meant to be in the same story.
“Oh, yes,” the boy breathed. “It’s written so metaphorically, in this way that’s captivating. I love it.” The boy’s mouth quirked into a little smile, clearly thinking back to a quote or a scene in the book Bokuto hadn’t read.
“I’ll put it on my to be read list.” Bokuto could make an exception from Akaashi’s list to try this. He held out the book to hand back. The boy made no move to take it, instead pulling the pen from behind his ear and shaking his head.
“You can read it now if you’d like to,” he said. “I was marking that one but I’ve actually already read another copy of it about a million times.”
“Oh.” Bokuto ran a hand down the front. “Okay.” He flipped open the cover. Ah. Yes. Akaashi Keji - June 31, 2020. Bokuto grinned.
Wait. That was today. Bokuto thought for once, struggling to put a puzzle together.
Oh.
Oh.
“Akaashi Keiji?”
“Huh?” The boy looked surprised, taking a step backward.
“Is your name Akaashi Keiji?” When the boy nodded slightly, Bokuto felt a thrill at finally meeting him. He explained hurriedly, “Um, I picked up a Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and followed your chain of recommendations. Your comments are the best!” Bokuto grinned. “I’m Bokuto Kouratou.”
“Oh,” Akaashi said faintly, a pink tint on his neck. “I’m Akaashi Keiji, although I suppose you know that.”
“Yeah,” Bokuto smiled. “It’s kinda cool, I finally get to meet you after reading all your comments.
“What did you think of them?” Akaashi asked, ducking his head.
“I loved them! They were so smart and funny and it was like we were kind of reading the book together but in code or something.” Bokuto recalled the hundreds of margins he’d read full of grey pen.
“Thank you,” Akaashi smiled, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t think anyone would really follow them.”
“Akaashi! Of course they would. It made the boring parts less boring and the interesting parts more interesting!” Bokuto grinned, hoping Akaashi wouldn’t be offended without the use of an honorific. In his head, Bokuto had always associated the grey marks with Akaashi, not Akaashi-san or Akaashi-chan and saying anything else would be weird. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Akaashi smiled. “I’ve only marked half of that one, just to let you know.” He gestured towards I’ll Give You The Sun loosely.
“That’s okay,” Bokuto reassured. “Tell me about it now.”
Akaashi hesitated. “No, no spoilers. I’ll be here for the next few days, so we can talk about it after you’re done.”
Bokuto ripped through the book.
“Akaashiii!” Bokuto rushed over to the reader the next day in the evening, who was sitting on the counter like last time and reclining against the shelf of colourful books. He had another book in his lap, focused on his signature grey pen writing a note. Akaashi’s chin jerked up at his name, pressing a finger to his lips instinctively.
“Sorry,” Bokuto grinned, leaning on the wooden counter and placing I’ll Give You The Sun down. “I finished it,” he whispered.
“Hi Bokuto-san,” Akaashi smiled. “That was fast. Did you like it?”
“Yeah, the time skips were interesting. I got kinda confused though. And the second half got boring without your comments, so I wrote some of my own.” Bokuto held up a black pen, which he had forgotten to put down in his rush to get here before the sunset and it was too late.
“I’m really glad you liked it,” Akaashi picked up the book. “It’s my favourite.”
“I can see why,” Bokuto grinned, and then prompted, “look at the note I wrote on the last page.”
Akaashi’s nimble fingers opened the book from the back, scanning Bokuto’s messier black writing.
Talk to me about the book over ice cream?
Akaashi’s eyes widened. He scribbled something back hurriedly and handed the book back to Bokuto, crossing his arms and suppressing a smile. Bokuto’s eyes jumped to the word, and he beamed.
Sure.
Their conversation flowed between the different books, and then characters, to Bokuto’s volleyball interest and Akaashi’s love for writing his own stories. How long Akaashi had been reading (about a gazillion years), and how Kuroo got Bokuto into reading in between comparing ice cream flavours. The consensus was anything with chocolate was superior. Akaashi smiled, flustered when Bokuto mentioned following Akaashi’s trail of recommendations for two months, and linked their pinkies together. Bokuto beamed, a second later throwing Akaashi’s hand into the air so he could catch it in his own and fold their fingers together.
“This okay?” Bokuto asked when Akaashi looked towards the ground.
Akaashi nodded, the setting sun enhancing his blush. He mumbled something.
“Sorry?” Bokuto worried he was being too forward. He stopped grasping Akaashi’s hand so tight.
“It’s okay Bokuto-san,” Akaashi spoke up assuringly and tightened his grip, running a thumb over Bokuto’s knuckles. Bokuto’s mouth parted in a little “o”.
“If it’s okay with you,” Akaashi added quickly.
“Same. I mean yes, yeah it’s okay. It's, yeah. More than okay,” Bokuto rushed to confirm. Akaashi laughed musically, and Bokuto smiled back at Akaashi’s grin.
“Same.” Akaashi tilted his head, a little breathy. “More than okay.”
“I think I need to circle another part,” Bokuto mentioned, clicking the pen in his right pocket once. It could stand to be circled a few times, since he certainly hoped it was applicable and important to now.
“Which one?” Akaashi asked, amused, the ghost of his smile still there.
“The front cover.”
We were all heading for each other on a collision course, no matter what. Maybe some people are just meant to be in the same story.