by the lakeside
bokuto koutarou(horror!AU)
it shouldâve been the perfect summer getaway. you were both in need of some down time away from your busy careers. but things get a little eerie when thereâs a voice in your head that isnât yours and you find out that youâre not alone in that pristine white house on the hill.
genre: horror, angst, fluff if you squint
tw: descriptions of drowning, asphyxiation, strangulation. suggestive sexual situations.
a/n: i promise iâll proofread this later and also write an epilogue but until then please enjoy this story it took me way longer than necessary to write. iâve read it so many times that i donât find it scary anymore. but i hope you do! :)
word count: 6k
my body feels like an empty shell sometimes, a carcass I am dragging around. when I look into the mirror I donât recognise myself. i donât recognise him, either.
â·Â Â â·Â â·Â Â â·Â
bokutoâs hair gleams silver in the glorious morning light. wind blows through your own strands as you zip past the lush green meadows. you could see the sheep dotted on the grassy planes like puffs of pure white clouds. far away, there stood giant mountains. their high peaks looked like they were breaching the baby blue ceiling of the sky. you only notice your gorgeous surroundings with half a mind, because your eyes keep trailing back to the man besides you. you admire his profile, the sharp slope of his nose, the chiselled cheek bones and jaw line. you zero in on the plush of his lips and it is then that you notice his teasing grin.
âadmiring the view?â he asks.
âmhmm. a sight for my sore eyes.â and he truly is. your gaze drops a little lower. his toned chest peeks from where the buttons of his shirt have come undone. his biceps flex and strain against the fabric as he manoeuvres the steering wheel. he looks like a movie star, straight out of the golden age of film. the red vintage convertible he drives only adds on to your day dream. you canât help but feel like a heroine starring in your own block buster romance. heat rises to the tip of his ears and the back of his neck at your shameless appraisal. bokuto notices the way lust is barely concealed on your face. he fucking loved the way you looked at him, like he was the guiding star you were always attuned to. the one for whom youâd always search for in an endless night sky.
âyour eyes are sore from staring at your computer screen all day everyday.â he ignores your attempts at flirting, and instead addresses what has been eating away at his mind lately. heâs been worried about you. you often called him out for pushing himself to the point of breaking when it came to volleyball. but, you never noticed how you were inclined to do the same when it came to you own work; buried under papers and ink, day after day as your work ethic kept you confined to your study room. you being a best selling author, him a pro volleyball player; you truly were the power couple worthy of everyoneâs envy and admiration, but your lives could get stressful at times.
âkou, Iâm sorry âm dragging you away from your routine. the game season starts in two months. you should be hitting some balls right now.â you withdraw your hand, and he instantly misses your touch. you appear a little crestfallen as you opt to idly fiddle with the lace bordering your sundress.
âhey,â his voice is silky, tone slightly chastising. âdonât apologise. this was my idea anyways. we need some time away. from everything.â
âyou know that,â he continues, âiâll never be too busy for you, right? it makes me feel lonely when you just withdraw from me... shut me out.â his face eyebrows furrow a little. âfor you Iâll always carve out time.â
bokuto had a way with words that always left you stupefied. they werenât embellished and gaudy, like yours. all you ever did was spin fairy tales. Yes they were beautiful, but they were also false. unlike you, he always spoke from his heart, and you wonder if that was why his sentiments without fail reached others.
âoi- donât fall asleep.â
âiâm not sleeping!â you snap out of your reverie. âiâm sorry i⊠never realised youâd feel that wayâ puffing out a sigh, you lean back lazily on the leather seat. âi havenât been feeling much inspiration lately, and when i do write i just hate every word of it.âÂ
âmaybe I should retire,â you muse. ânever write a word again. let people remember me as the genius author Iâm not.â
âbut you are a genius writer!â bokuto insists. âgive it a fifty years and theyâll be teaching your work as a part of the curriculum. iâve never read anything better!â
âthatâs because you rarely read!â
âi am a picky reader,â bokuto shrugs, cocking an eyebrow as he looks at you haughtily. âso congratulations that your writing actually piqued my interest.â
snorting, you pinch his thigh.
â· Â â· â· Â â·Â
itâs almost evening by the time you drive past a small sleepy town. the few houses have their curtains drawn. thereâs a small supermarket and a polyclinic but you notice how the streets are mainly empty, save for a couple of children who play seven tiles on the roadside. fifteen minutes and more grassy meadows and sheep later, you arrive at what looks like the edge of the world. surely youâre being a little dramatic calling it that, but the road winds up the gentle slope of a hill and on top of it sits a pristine white house. bokuto pulls up the car in front of massive wrought iron gates, a chain holds it shut.
âokay, but when nori said âvacation homeâ, this is not what I had in mind. Is he actually the heir to a conglomerate or something?â you observe, definitely appalled.
âuh- knowing his stingy ass, iâm not sure?â bokuto sounds and looks puzzled as well, so you know he wasnât expecting it either. he reconfirms the address konoha had messaged him. âdo we climb the gates? because he never gave me a key or anything. he said the place has a caretaker whoâd-â
âhow can I help?â
your heart leaps to your throat, and both you and bokuto snap your heads to your left to look at a man who stands on bokutoâs side of the car. neither of you had seen him approaching and it was as if he were a magician, materialising out of thin air. old, sinewy and dressed sharply in a suit, heâs hunching to be at your eye levels. upon closer look the fabric of his clothes looked worn out and they fray at the edges. his hair is slicked back and he wears gold rimmed spectacles, its lenses the shape of half moons. his smile is serene, demeanour dignified but thereâs shrewdness in his tone.
âum- hi.â bokuto greets recovering first. âi am konohaâs friend. i assume youâve been expecting us?â
a beat passes.
âindeed. allow me to show you around.â
bokuto parks the car under a shed close to the gates and you walk down the stretch of the garden. it is immaculately kept, and roses of all colours bloom neatly in rows. a giant sycamore tree stands close to the house, its branches brushing the roof. when you stand on the porch of the house the gate seems miles away. bokuto wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close to his side. he sneaks a soft kiss under your left ear as the caretaker opens up the door for you.
the inside of the house is splendidly furnished and it leaves you awestruck. simple but gorgeous, a modern castle of sorts. a cream colored leather sofa sits in the centre of the living room, the rug in front of it is white and fluffy. There is a box television- the kinds popular decades ago, and you wonder if it actually works or if itâs just for show. the chandelier above is a million crystals and an open kitchen makes up the far end of the living room. a stair case winds its way up. but, what truly catches your eye are the massive french doors which open up to the stretch of a green lawn. calling it a backyard would be a bit inadequate; for the trimmed grass meets the surface of a great lake, its water like molten lava reflecting the evening sky. you can see the outline of ducks waddling away, probably on their way home. the lake stretches out for almost a mile and after that you see nothing but the thicket of the woods. it is almost the end of july, so while the days are warm, the temperatures tend to dip quite a bit at night. you shiver a little and snuggle closer into bokutoâs side. the caretaker, in his monotonous voice, explains to you how your room shall be upstairs,  the one to the right. there were four other rooms which were mostly empty and locked for the sake of easy maintenance. you tune him out when he moves on to the instructions regarding the heating and locking systems.
youâre entranced by the house, and standing there in its magnanimity you feel like youâve been drawn into a picture book. you can imagine breakfasts every morning on the front porch. afternoons spent lolling on the grass besides the lake. you would keep a vase filled with freshly cut roses from the garden, in the centre of the kitchen table. spend the nights sitting in front of the fire place when winter laid its thick blanket of white snow outside. your high flying careers felt like a distant dream. your laptop back home could collect all the dust it wanted to. you could just stay here forever wrapped up in each others arms.
iâm lonely. i hate how youâre always away from home because of volleyball.
bokuto notices your distant look , the slightest way your lips are set in a grimace. it tugs on his heartstrings. makes it difficult for him to breathe.
bringing his mouth close to your ear, he whispers your name bringing you out of your head. you blink, biting back the ugly realisation that had just intruded your brain. you had never felt that way before, you had forced yourself not to. it was long ago when you had decided that youâd never make him choose between you and volleyball. or maybe that loneliness was something youâd always felt. but because you were afraid of it; you had hidden it under your skin, in between your bones.
if i could, iâd steal you away and keep you all to myself. in a cage just for me and you.
too afraid that heâll somehow read your mind, you step away from him, disoriented by the venomous voice of your subconscious as you look around for the old man.
âhe left while you were zoning out, princess. said heâs going home.â he pulls your back against his chest, long fingers begin snaking up a well known trail up your thighs. your cute little sundress does little to stop him. âheâll be back by noon tomorrow, to tend to the garden and all that.â bokuto speaks in between the kisses heâs placing along the side of your neck. âapparently, he lives in that town we drove by earlier.â
âmhmm.â
âwant to live in a house like this someday.â he asks you, his voice hushed. Â you rest your head back on his chest, as love and lust pools in your stomach and clouds your thoughts.
iâm scared someday youâll leave me behind.
âme. you. maybe a dog. maybe⊠children?â he continues and your eyes widen at that.
âyou want all that?â
âwith you? yes I want everything. iâll take everything that you can give me.â
liar.
you turn around and pull bokuto into a heated kiss. his chapped lips meld into yours and your teeth clack a little from the suddenness of your movement. by now it is completely dark outside and the living room is dimly lit by a lamp. bokuto seems unaware, too lost in you to be notice space and time. but, a weird sensation surrounds you. you feel the whisper of a cool breeze, a murmur disturbing the stillness of the house. with one hand, bokuto cups your behind. the fingers of his other rake through your hair. itâs a buzz now, like a thousand bees hovering over your heads. you feel dazed, youâre needy, youâre confused.
thereâs someone else here. the two of you are not alone.
âow,â you yelp in pain.
bokuto jumps away from you, but his hands are badly tangled in your hair.
âI told you to tie your hair in the car!â he is laughing. âitâs a nest in here!â
the buzzing dies down. the silence that follows is deafening. you wonder if youâre delusional with the lack of sleep.
as bokuto carefully weaves his fingers out he places a chaste kiss on the little crease in between your eyebrows. he finds you so cute, it physically hurts him. Â
âdonât worry, babygirl,â his voice drops a few octaves. âwindswept looks sexy on you.â
â· Â â· â· Â â·Â
later that night as you are lie under the drapes and canopies, you notice how the bedroom is much like the rest of the house- fit for royalty. bokuto snores softly, but you lie awake with your head on his chest. his heartbeat is a mind-numbing rhythm. a thin sheet of sweat covers your bodies and you try to ignore the wetness in between your legs. you should probably change the sheets as well, but your body refuses to move and you donât know where to find any new ones. sleep evades you so you let Bokutoâs question roll around in your mind. a forever with him. of course you would say yes. there was nothing more that you wanted than that. but the dread from earlier which you had managed to keep at bay with lust, slowly begins to resettle in the pit of your stomach.
he promises you an eternity now, but heâll leave you behind soon.
you somehow clamber out of bed, making sure not to awaken bokuto. picking up his shirt from where it lies on floor, you put it on. the bedroom has identical doors from the living room, made of glass, and they open onto a small balcony. you draw open the lacey curtains and step out into the chilly night air. the sight that awaits you makes you gasp. a fine mist rolls over the water, but the lake itself is still.  its surface is like taut cellophane. beyond the lake where the woods begin, it is pitch black darkness and you cannot tell where the woods meet the moonless sky. itâs a new moon night, but where you expect to see the stars is an empty hollowness. its eerily silent. too silent. no insects trill. no wind blows. you stare intently into the water for so long that you swear you see something lurking just underneath its surface.  the mist that hovers slowly inches towards the house, coiling like endless bony fingers.
that pool of velvety darkness, i wonder what itâd feel like against my skin.
come to me then. feel it for yourself. your voice, no, her voice purrs.
you whirl around to see bokuto. heâs standing a feet away from you, rubbing sleep from his eyes.Â
âwhoah! easy,â bokuto exclaims, surprised by your jumpiness. no way it had been him who had spoken moments ago. âwhat are you doing outside?â he asks. âi nearly got a heart attack when I saw someone standing out here.âÂ
you look back towards the lake, and youâre utterly confused. the mist seems to have instantly vanished. you can even hear the water now, softly undulating. it appears akin to a creased sheet of silk.
had you been hallucinating? dreaming with your eyes open?
you fight down the growing panic and instead walk over to him, squishing his cheeks. you softly kiss his pout. âaww. babyâs scared?â you coo.
he grumbles something about you catching a cold but tugs you inside and you decide to let it all go. youâre tired and tomorrow will be a new day.
had you turned around, youâd notice how the stars were glittering like cold hard gems in the night sky.
â· Â â· â· Â â·Â
you were pleasantly lazing about in the sun. the lake was a glittering blue and the woods looked benign during the day. they werenât as dense as they appeared to be in the absence of light. from where you lay, the house looks like an entity of its own. imposing and regal. bokuto is dressed casually in a t-shirt and sweatpants as he plays around witha volleyball, tossing and spiking it all by his lonely self. you didnât remember seeing him pack a volleyball, but then again somehow he always seemed to miraculously have a one at his disposal. today, he hasnât gelled his hair up in its usual style, so it flops onto his  forehead in a way you wished heâd leave it more often.
ây/n! nice receive!â he hollers at you.
he spikes the ball aiming straight for your stomach and you somehow manage to block his assault. thank god he hadnât used a quarter of the strength he usually puts into his spikes.
your strong and annoying man.
âyou trying to murder me or what?â
he pulls you up to your feet. âiâll be teaching you how to spike, drama queen. itâs insane how youâve been with me for all these years and havenât learnt a thing or two about volleyball. people would die for a one on one training session with me.â he brags as he fetches the ball from where it had rolled off to.
you try to copy his motions, but what he can effortlessly pull off is an impossible feat for you. you send the ball upwards and jump as you try to match your timing to spike it. but before you can hit the ball it lands on your head.
bokuto is losing his shit, doubling over with laughter. and you try to look angry but end up giggling with him.
âi give up!â you complain. plus my boobs jiggle since iâm not wearing a sports bra,âÂ
âbabe, thats kinda the point!â he beams.
a perfect spike lands on his face.
âowww, thatâs foul play, y/n! â he yells. rubbing his nose, he walks over to you.
âyou should be punished!â he scolds you, but places a kiss on your temple. his hands wander downwards to unzip your dress. he lets it fall to the ground. you know where this is headed. you think heâs going to kiss you so you close your eyes and lean towards him but before you can react, heâs bending down and suddenly youâre being lifted. he has you over his shoulders and your peals of laughter warm his heart. he hadnât heard that sound in a while.
bokuto marches straight into the lake and dumps you in. the water is cool and refreshing, just as you had imagined it. itâs shallow enough so youâre chest deep in the water when your feet are planted at the bottom. his body glistens with dampness, hair a floppy wet mess. he was so beautiful, that even though it was irrational you felt a little bit shy. youâre splashing each other with water, the atmosphereâs light and bubbly with amusement. bokuto tries to catch you but you slip out of his reach. he is being his loud and  dramatic self as he falls face down into the water, complaining as he comes up with his eyes screwed shut.Â
âi swear iâd rather be blinded by your beauty than this water.â
you shake you head, feigning disdain and then youâre swimming away from him, towards the safety of the house. it must almost be noon, and you vaguely remember its time for the care taker to come around. you did not want to be seen in your wet underwear. bokuto calls out to you, apologising. there is water in your ears, it laps all around you as you swim. it dulls all sound and every other sense until the only thing you hear is your thumping heart. when you come up for air, you can see the blue sky, when your face is in the water you can see the stones and pebbles littering the bottom.
but, when you come up for air again, the sky is overcast. laden with dense gray clouds.
the water runs icy, lead flows through your veins. your body is sinking like a ship. it feels like youâre trying to move through viscous jelly. when you try to pull up for air you cannot break through, the surface traps you like its the cellophane you remember seeing the night before. a tight grip on your waist, abruptly pulls you under. your flailing hands try to grasp at nothing in particular. you wonder if its bokuto just messing around, but you know it isnât. you donât feel his presence anywhere. your fingers suddenly entangle into something. your eyes burn when you try to open them and look. jet black strands of hair, a bone white face, a mouth that is open like a gaping wound. you scream and nothing but gurgles and air bubbles escape you. you try to pull back but your hands are stuck in the weedlike hair. Funny you think of the evening before, when bokutoâs fingers had entangled in your messy hair the same way.
âkouâŠkoutaro!â you try calling for him. you hear your disembodied voice, feel the water flood your mouth, your nose. but you feel all alone with that woman straight out of nightmares. fear has you in its grip, your minds a mush.
you hate him so damn much. you hate him, you hate him, you HATE him. Â a voice repeats the same words in your head. you wonder if it sounds like your own or someone elseâs. you cannot tell the two apart.
you feel a hand wrap around your arm, its large and warm and it feels like home. as it drags you out of the water the ashen face seems to quiver and distort. her eyes flicker open. they roll in their sockets but when they fixate on you, you see eyes just like your own. but they are transparent like marbles; burning with betrayal and accusation.
â· Â â· â· Â â·Â
you wake up with a start to screams piercing the air. they are shrill and blood curdling. your hands are on your ears as you try to block out the sound but it only gets louder. it takes you a moment to realise that the screaming had been you. bokuto holds you in his arms, you can feel him shaking underneath your palms that grapple at his back.
heâs crying.
no! why is your bokuto crying? you pull away a little just enough to look at him, but the way his features are twisted in melancholy punctures a hole through your heart.
ây/n, babe⊠babe,â his lips quiver stealing away speech but he forces himself to speak. â i looked everywhere in the water but I couldnât find you. you were swimming and then you just stopped. i thought you were fooling around but you were down there for too long. so i come over but... I couldnât see you anywhere at first. i panicked! holy shit... i was panicking.â he shifts away from you, an arms length away. leaning back on the sofa, he stares up at the ceiling. âYou werenât even struggling, just stopped moving. Do you remember what happened?â bokuto drags a hand down his face. heâs visibly distressed.
âi donât know what happened,â you croack. âit felt like I was stuck. my feet wouldnât come lose. as if someone was there with me in the water, holding me downâŠâ a sob escapes you.
bokuto pales a little at your description. but there had been no one but the two of you in the water. hell he hadnât even seen any fishes.
he had pulled you under in the first place hadnât he. thereâs no one here but the two of you.
you remember not being alone in the water. you remember the heaviness. but nothing else.
bokuto opens his mouth to say something, but you cannot concentrate. the urge is too strong. before you can think, before you can answer. you are bending over and puking your guts out.
â· Â â· â· Â â·Â
you spend the rest of the day, clinging to bokuto. and he doesnât mind. he seems to be craving that constant feeling of your skin on his. something to remind him that you were okay, that you were here now. he makes his way around the kitchen with you stuck to him like a little koala.
âsit down on that chair just for a minute, y/n. i canât find the plates!â he tries to loosen your chokehold on him but you only tighten it and bokuto booms out a laugh.
âi swear youâre lucky youâre cute.â Â
âjust consider this weight training.â
bokuto had put together a light meal. you reckoned youâd be unable to stomach anything too heavy.
âwe were supposed to be having fun. i feel like iâve ruined everything.â you mumble gloomily. youâre sitting on the chairs you pulled up around the kitchen island. a make shift dining table.
âitâs okay. its enough to just be together.â
âoh no been away from you for a five whole minutes.â your expression is of mock worry as you rush over onto his lap. you immediately bury your head in the crook of his neck, his familiar scent calms you down. he chuckles at your antics.
âdo you think we can just go home?â you ask apprehensively, still feeling bad about having spoilt your perfect little getaway. Â âi donât feel like staying here anymore.â
âsure, baby girl .â bokuto replies in a heartbeat, and you wonder if he feels the same unease in remaining here any longer.
âwe can leave tomorrow morning.â he suggests. âit might be a bit too late to leave now. plus, caretaker-san didnât even show up today.â
âis it okay to just leave?,â you ask.
from where bokuto sits on the dining table in the kitchen, he can see the doors in the living room that open up to the porch. itâs around three in the afternoon. the weather was beginning to turn awfully gloomy.
clouds slowly fill the sky eclisping the sun that had shined all day. it leaves everything in shades of gray.
â· Â â· â· Â â·Â
you wake up alone in bed. the remnants of an eerie dream still lingers in your mind. you had been combing your hair, which was unusually thick, dark and long. you kept brushing the silky smooth strands, on and on and on, until they started coming loose in your hands. shuddering as you recall it, you turn around to see the wall clock read nine p.m. where was kou? at some point you had fallen asleep although you did not remember coming upstairs to the bedroom. he mustâve carried you from where you and him had been lying on the sofa downstairs, idly chatting.
your body is still heavy with exhaustion but you force yourself to sit up. hearing the water running in the bathroom, you call out to bokuto. âkou?â you pad your way over to the bathroom. when you open the door there is no one inside. water drips from from a leaky tap into an empty bath tub. strange. where had the sound been coming from then?
you find yourself mesmerised by your reflection in the mirror right across from you. when you step inside the bathroom, the tiles are dry and frigid underneath your feet. the lights are off, however, the bathroom is faintly lit up by the light filtering in from the frosted windows. the bags under your eyes are dark and puffy, your lips look ashen. you look like you had lost a tonne of weight over the span of the past few hours. tracing a finger along the outline of your reflection, you notice how your eyes were a forlorn abyss. hollow like the dead.
mine. stay with me. donât leave me alone. a voice whispers to you and you listen, enchanted.
you see the corners of your lips quirk up in your reflection. your expression twists into that of deranged happiness.
so, youâll stay?
you donât feel the smile on your face.
youâre backing away slowly. a scream dies in your throat.
that isnât you. itâs her.
youâre running full speed out of the bathroom and you make it just in time as the door slams shuts behind you. the edge of your thin white slip gets caught in between but you yank it loose with enough force. bursting out of the room like a bat out of hell youâre hurtling downstairs. you have to look for bokuto. you must leave. now!
youâre me, i am you. he doesnât love you, so just stay with me. Iâm lonely.
you try to call out to bokuto but you cannot find your voice.
and then you see him. sitting on the sofa. the relief you feel is momentary. the old television is on, and the screen is grainy with static but bokutoâs eyes are intent on it. heâs still as if he were carved out of stone. he doesnât acknowledge your presence just keeps staring ahead with an owlish gaze. you place a shaky hand on his shoulder and he finally turns to look at you.
his eyes that usually are like pools of golden honey are dark and murky like cheap kerosene. his features are sharper, more cunning. a devil in your loverâs skin. the mist outside thickens, appearing as if they were pale white walls surrounding the house.
i told you to just stay with me. you shouldâve stayed with me in that cool dark water.
he doesnât love you, i do.
suddenly bokuto is stalking towards you, his movements hypnotic like that of a panther, sinuously fluid, predatory. a feral look glints in those foreign eyes. he slams you against the nearest wall, his hands tightening over your neck. your head meets the hard surface with a thud. those large arms that have always felt like home suddenly feel empty and cold like a prison cell.
youâre just a prisoner in his cage. he doesnât love you like I will.
black spots fill your vision, as your air supply is slowly being cut off. âkou- please donât.â you whimper. a flicker of recognition flashes through those eyes, but the grip around your neck only tightens. âkou-â you call again softly. tears fall freely down your face. your hands go limp by your sides and in the process you knock over a vase that had been on table besides you. it falls to the marble floor with an obnoxious crash. the ceramic splinters into a hundred pieces. bokutoâs eyes widen and the darkness from his face lifts. it is as if a thick patch of clouds obscuring the moon had drifted past, letting its pure light fall to the earth once again. heâs your bokuto once again.
horror struck he lets go of your neck and catches a glimpse of the angry red fingerprints left behind like a morbid necklace. you collapse to the ground.
a door bangs shut somewhere in the house, startling you both. bokuto is about to crouch down next to you when suddenly the volume of the television is cranked up. the harsh static sound grates your ears, like a drawn out growl. thereâs thumping coming from behind every surface of the house- the walls, the floors, the ceilings. every door, every window swings open only to shut back with a bang, over and over until shards of broken glass lie like a carpet all over the floor. the house is alive with the breath of countless souls that live in its every crack and crevice. you both look on with horror as heavy mist begins to pour into the house. bokutoâs teeth chatter with fear, and he tries to get you to stand. he follows your gaze which is fixed to where your bedroom had been. and he sees it then. on the door which opens into the room, thereâs a shadow of a woman. he can discern the long straight hair which she combs on and on and on.
âf-fuck!â he spits.
he harshly pulls you over his shoulders but transfixed you crane up your neck to continue looking at the shadow. hastily he manages to grab the keys which he had hung on a hook by the main door. the shadow grows darker, more defined as if whoever it belonged to was coming closer. he feels you struggling and you scream to be let down.the main door to the house is already open so with one last glance at the chaos behind, you are both bolting out of the house.
ây/n, run! to the car. hurry, hurry, hurry!â he shuts the door, hoping it would buy you some time. heâs not really sure what heâd just seen or what any of it meant. but thinking would come later. he grabs your hand as you start the mad dash across the front garden. you notice despite your compromised vision due to the mist, how the roses look wilted. the grounds gooey and wet underneath, and your feet sink into the soft mud making movement sluggish. but you donât stop. moments later, the door behind you flings open with enough force that it comes loose from its hinges. the whole house seems to be angry.
come back here.
donât leave me alone.
an overgrown root coils around your calf and yanks you back. your hand slips out of bokutoâs and he turns around, horrified, to see you being dragged into the ground. like you were falling into quicksand.
âhold on to my arm,â bokuto bellows, âand just donât. let. go!â
the circulation in your leg is being cut off and you cry in pain. you can feel the disgusting way the soft earth keeps parting further to let you in. you want to let go, give in to the struggle. maybe itâd be better to just lie buried here, decomposing till you forget whats fear, whats pain.
your name is rolling off bokutoâs tongue like a chant. his muscles burn with strain. the sweat and slick makes his grip on you weak and he notices how youâre letting go. he reads the resignations on your face. but why are you letting go? why are you trying to leaving him alone?
bokuto loses his footing and falls backwards and almost loses you, but he manages to interlock your fingers. heâs grunting with effort, and roars with frustration when it doesnât seem to be working. it is then when you see the blood covering his feet, the glass splinters buried deep into his soles. in your haste to get away you never noticed how he had walked all over the shards with you over his shoulder. the ache in your heart swells. you know heâd never leave you behind. it was the two of you, or none of you whoâd make it alive out of here.
the thought of bokuto buried deep into the ground, lips blue and crusted with mud gives you a renewed conviction. with the last spurts of energy you hold tight onto bokutoâs arm with one hand. the other digs into where you find soft but solid ground. you attempt to claw your way out and fight the drag of the noose around you ankle that tries to pull you in the opposite direction. away from bokuto. bokuto is inching backwards, his voice hoarse with all that screaming as he does his utmost to haul you out.Â
rain begins to pour in heavy cascades even though there hadnât been a single cloud in the obsidian sky. and suddenly you feel earthâs hold on you go slack. bokuto and your efforts come to fruition as your foot comes loose and you tumble straight on top of bokutoâs body. but its too early to celebrate. a loud thunderclap spurs you both into action and you run and run, fighting the burn in your lungs until you reach the car. bokuto, is grateful, infinitely grateful that the keys had remained in his pockets during that struggle. he hands you the keys and with no time to waste youâre running to the car, afraid that something inauspicious might happen again if you didnât hurry. bokuto notices with relief that the iron gates are not chained shut like they had been upon your arrival, and with some effort he swings them open. bokuto clambers into the passenger seat and you floor the gas as you drive straight out of the gates, into a calm quiet night.Â
it takes you a moment to notice that the rain had stopped.Â
â· Â â· â· Â â·Â
the two of you are covered in dirt, in blood. absolutely shattered with exhaustion. bokuto finally feels the pain that had been dampened by adreneline. it now ignites like an inferno. he almost tears his lip trying to bite back a whimper. in the rear view mirror, you catch a glimpse of the house. it looks regal and imposing, as it had when youâd first arrived. you can see the dimly lit bedroom, the curtains billowing gently in a slight breeze. the glass on the doors is intact. the garden is immaculate once again and you can see patches of soft grass spread out where the mud had almost eaten you up alive just a few moments ago. a shaky laugh escapes Bokuto, and before you know it, feeling delirious, youâre laughing with him.Â
bokutoâs phone rings and the sound cuts short your hysteria. with some effort he retrieves it from the dashboard where heâd left it two days ago. he had planned on not letting anything distract him from you on this short getaway. he puts it on loudspeaker.
âthey picked up!â you hear Konoha say to someone and the collective sighs of relief are audible.
âdude, where have you both been? weâve been calling you all day. ms. nakamura told me that you never made it to my vacation home?â
âms. nakamura?â bokuto rasps.
âyeah, the caretaker I told you about?â
âthe caretaker was a man!â you snatch the phone with from bokuto with one hand while other remains on the steering wheel. youâre yelling at the receiver like a mad woman. âwe came to your villa, but that man opened the gates. listen, thereâs something wrong with the house and lake behind it is-â
âwhat lake? there are only corn fields behind my house. which is, by the way, a traditional japanese one. where the fuck have you both been?!â
you and bokuto look at each other in confusion, and you hit the brakes. you glance back at the house which is now far, far away. if you squint your eyes you can see the outline of a man at the gates. the lamp in his hand glows golden like a distant star.
a womanâs shadow is dark and lonely against the delicate lace of the bedroomâs curtains.
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