Akaashi Keiji |12| Bokuaka

Bokuto Kōtarō used to be the king of the canvas. His works overflowed with an overwhelming vitality, attracting attention and praise from critics across the country. He was at the peak of his career, on top of the world. However, his entire universe crumbled the day he discovered his girlfriend's betrayal. It wasn't a simple breakup; she was his refuge and his muse, the only one who held his hand when his father died and the one who believed in him from his very first strokes. Her abandonment shattered his soul.
The shock plunged Bokuto into a suffocating darkness. After a severe breakdown, he was admitted to a psychiatric clinic, diagnosed with severe anorexia nervosa and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). The mere act of putting food in his mouth felt like consuming poison, and the inability to hold a paintbrush without having a meltdown was consuming him.
It was a case that required extreme dedication, so the clinic assigned it to Akaashi Keiji. Although Akaashi was relatively new to the institution, he stood out for his analytical mind, his imperturbable calm, and an almost supernatural patience.
Today, Bokuto sat in the gloomy activity room, holding a charcoal stick between trembling fingers. His once bright golden eyes were now dull and fixed on a completely blank sketchbook. He felt the weight of the room pressing down on his chest. He knew he would meet his new specialist today, but deep down, a broken part of him believed that nothing would ever be the same again. He didn't even bother to look toward the door when he heard footsteps calmly approaching.
The scent of coffee and disinfectant betrayed someone's arrival. A shadow fell across the table, but instead of pressure or clinical questioning, a deep, warm voice broke the heavy silence.
—Hello, Bokuto-san. I'm Akaashi Keiji— he introduced himself gently, stopping at a respectful distance— . I've been reviewing your previous work...