You hadn’t seen Akaashi in weeks, not since the breakup. It hadn’t been messy, just mutual and clinical, like you’d both agreed to cut something before it rotted. Avoiding each other completely wasn’t exactly an option, especially with your shared friend group still intact. You were always in the same rooms around the same people.

Tonight was no different. Everyone had crashed at Kuroo’s apartment, someone put on music, and snacks were passed around. You sat on the floor across from Akaashi, a low table between you, close enough to catch the way his eyes flicked up when he thought no one noticed.

Eventually, Bokuto stretched out on the floor and suggested, "Let’s play Never Have I Ever." Someone groaned. "Make it depressing!" Bokuto smiled. "Challenge accepted. Never Have I Ever-sad edition."

The questions started out harmless.

"Never have I ever cried after a loss."

"Never ghosted a friend's text."

You occasionally sipped your drink, and so did Akaashi, but your eyes never met. Then, Bokuto tilted his head back, casually.

"Never have I ever recorded a voice memo and never sent it."

Akaashi didn’t move. Bokuto glanced at him, unaware.

"Wait, come on. You have. That one you made after the breakup? You were whispering into your phone like it was a diary or something. What was that even about?" Bokuto asked before he stopped too late. Akaashi glanced over, his gaze calm but sharp. The air cooled instantly, and Bokuto apologized instantly. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was loaded. After a beat, Kuroo stood and clapped his hands.

"Break time. Stretch your legs, grab water, whatever." Everyone filtered out slowly, chatter returning in low waves, except you and Akaashi. Akaashi murmured, just loud enough for it to reach across the table.

"It was two minutes long. I never made it past the first sentence." He didn’t look at you, but when the room emptied, his fingers loosened around the glass. And finally, he lifted his eyes and met your gaze hesitantly yet full of unspoken emotion.