Chapter Text
The Diverse Gamers Community Gala was apparently a very big deal .
Kenma realized this as he first stepped into the large ballroom and noticed the tower of champagne glasses.
…And somehow resisted the urge to groan and hide.
But just barely.
(Maybe he groaned. Just a little bit.)
Koutarou nudged him with his elbow, looking like an unfairly attractive CEO from a Korean drama. Which, Kenma supposed, He kind of is.
A sleek silver tie, and an all black three piece suit- Koutarou had even managed to tame his hair by a slight margin, a valiant attempt to style it back with product. The soft glow of the chandeliers caught on his shining Rolex.
(He'd insisted on buying each other matching ones after their first big game...even if Kenma didn't need one and Koutarou couldn’t use analog clocks.)
Kenma had managed to clean himself up as well, lthough his transformation was a bit more of an extreme change from his usual attire.Boktuo said he looked like the last glorious chicken wing at the bottom of the bucket. Shouyou had replied similarly, saying Kenma looked like a lake in front of a severely dehydrated man.
Kenma understood neither of these comments but accepted them nonetheless.
His assistant, Yaku, had picked out his outfit, thankfully. If Kenma had been left to his own devices, he’d probably just wind up wearing the nicest stain-free hoodie he owned.
Instead, he wore a crisp white dress shirt underneath his black suit jacket, his pants matching. His suit was tailored expertly to fit his slim frame, and his clean black dress shoes were so shiny that they reflected the light of the ballroom.
Along with his watch, Yaku had found a shirt-collar link somewhere in Kenma’s needlessly expansive closet. Each side was a small metal wing, connecting each side of his shirt’s collar by a delicate golden chain, the metal sparkling against the white fabric. He’d even put in some earring studs to match (not at all inspired by the new piercings Kurekoma had shown off in his latest stream. Definitely not.)
Kenma had even attempted to style his hair for the occasion, wrangling the two toned locks into a half up/half down style, leaving his face a bit more open. Small strands had already fallen out, but Koutarou said they framed his face, whatever that meant.
He looked good.
And he kind of felt good too.
He still wanted to grab a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter and down it.
...But when he did, Koutarou just laughed.
.
Kenma stayed close to the food bar, a task he had perfected after years of office parties and school-sanctioned dances. After a few incredibly “enthralling” speeches, (Kenma had to pinch Koutarou to wake up on more than one occasion) the gala was in full swing.
Meaning, people attempt to make connections and eat cucumber sandwiches while some underpaid musicians played another instrumental Taylor Swift cover. Kenma thought to himself as he put another shrimp cracker on his plate.
Koutarou was having a vastly different experience, flitting around from person to person and asking all the right questions.
"Oh really? How's your daughter?" "Yeah! I saw that stream, it was pretty insane." "So how's your work going on the Blueberry project?" "Oh, you're starting a second channel? Cool!"
"Yeah, we've been thinking of hiring them to compose a score for our next game. No telling!" "God, I haven't seen her in forever! How is she?" "I agree, we need more LGBTQ representation in video games!"
"You're sponsoring a volleyball team? Which one?"
It reminded Kenma of the way Hinata had ran around earlier in the cafe, the Bird Barista floating into his head. Kenma busied himself with the thought of a new game pitch, an excuse from having to interact with others, instead writing new ideas into the notes app of his phone. He also ate tastefully decorated shrimp crackers and as he inwardly thanked his friend for not forcing him into any conversations, he decided to try the spinach dip next.
That all got boring quickly, however, and he soon resorted to observing the crowd around him.
He watched people pass his tiny table with sharp golden eyes, making out the faces of an industry that he’d only ever really seen through a screen. (He probably never would’ve seen them without one, if not for Koutarou)
He was surprised that there were quite a few faces that he recognized. He had seen Lev, (A.K.A Lev9000 ) a streamer that often collaborated with Kurekoma, make a small scene after discovering the chocolate fountain. Asahi Azumane was wandering around with his business partner Sawamura Daichi; They had produced and composed a number of scores for all sorts of games, and were some of the biggest and youngest names in their field.
(Asahi has managed to trip over his own shoes 5 times and counting)
Yachi Hitoka, an up and coming voice actor, stands at another high rise table with Kiyoko Shimizu, probably the best CGI animator of her generation. He spotted Tsukishima Kei, an esteemed game critic famous for his scalding sarcasm in YouTube reviews, talking to Yamaguchi- Bokuto’s assistant that had coincidentally won a raffle to come to the gala.
Kenma swirled his cup of ginger ale in his hands, staring into the bottom. He wished he was at home. Kurekoma was probably streaming right now, but Kenma didn’t even know that much- Koutarou had confiscated Kenma's phone for the night, somehow under the absolutely baseless
impression that Kenma would attempt an escape or hide under the buffet table playing otome games.
...in Koutarou’s still-absolutely-and-totally-wrong defense, that's exactly what happened at the last party Kenma went to. In fact, he hadn't even realized the event had ended, and was found by a late night janitor.
Curse Koutarou and his long legs. Damn them.
He sipped his ginger ale semi-mournfully. Genshin Impact called to him. He wondered how many Pokemon Gyms he could find around here-The convention center was farther out of Tokyo than he usually ventured. Kurekoma 's stream was an actual siren’s song.
It's been 3 hours, he thought to himself. Maybe Koutarou will have mercy on me and give it back. And thus, Kenma made the executive decision to leave his post in search of his wild haired friend, weaving silently through the crowd.
25 minutes passed without any sign of Bokuto or his phone. Which was weird, honestly, because usually his Loud Friend was very easy to find. On the premise that Bokuto Koutarou was a Loud Friend, however, if Kenma didn't find him, then Koutarou would probably find Kenma.
Even so, Kenma kept looking. He thought of his comfortable duvet as he walked, weaving between throngs of CEO’s and streamers and animators alike. The plush pillows, the memory foam mattress. Kenma would probably live in his bed if he could.
Out of this stuffy suit too. Ahh, my faithful sweatpants. They still haven't pilled after 10 years. Oh, I can get some hot tea too. That sounds nice. Mmmm. Relax, drink, watch some Kureko-
Kenma felt like he'd been body tackled with the way Koutarou had come up and...tackled him. So, yes, it was a body tackle. Koutarou could never half-ass a tackle.
"Kenma! Where've you been, dude?!" Koutarou asked as he leaned on Kenma's shoulder.
"Guh." Was the only sound Kenma could produce with the actual giant crushing him, his arms going limp like a cat being held at the shoulders. Koutarou laughed with his whole chest. Kenma knew because he felt his skull vibrate as a result.
"Come on! I want you to meet someone." He said, releasing Kenma. Kenma gathered himself from the attack, fixing his now slightly-rumpled clothing. Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. He couldn’t avoid interacting with anyone for long. Kenma turned around, and his golden eyes focused on the one and only-
Akaashi Keiji.
"Ah. Hello."
Kenma said, bowing slightly before offering his hand to shake. Akaashi took it; He was dressed nicely as well. He wore a dark green suit, and what looked like a dusting of golden glitter on his eyes. He was very beautiful, and it took 0.2 seconds to realize that this man was Koutarou's soulmate.
No real reason, or evidence behind such a drastic realization...just a feeling.
Kenma tended to listen to those.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Akaashi Keiji." Akaashi Keiji said, introducing himself. Kenma nodded before releasing the other man's hand.
"I know. Kozume Kenma."
Akaashi quirked an eyebrow at him, a flash of amusement flickering across his face. "You know?" He questioned, curiosity and a vague sense of amusement tickling his words.
"Koutarou's talked about you enough, I feel like I know you already." Kenma deadpanned. Koutarou sputtered indignantly, but Akaashi paused for a moment, his eyebrows raising even further.
And then he laughed .
His face lit up like a sparkler, and Kenma understood what Koutarou saw in him. He decided that he and Akaashi would get along well.
It seems that Akaashi had decided the same, because he told Kenma as much. "We'll get along just fine, Kozume-san." Kenma gave him a small smile.
"Kenma is fine. I agree, Akaashi-san." They both turned their heads and looked at Koutarou in simultaneously. Bokuto just laughed, rubbing a hand across his face.
"What have I done..." He huffed out a laugh.
Kenma didn't exactly know how someone could quietly smile, but Akaashi managed to. "By the way, I have someone I think you'd like to meet." Koutarou gasped.
“Really?! Lead the way, Akaashi!"
I think that fits my criteria for socialization today, maybe now I can- Kenma was yanked out of his thoughts by Akaashi leading him gently by his wrist. "You too, Kenma."
Kenma sighed quietly. Foiled again. He followed Akaashi anyway. It seemed that wherever Akaashi would go, Koutarou was bound to follow. And Koutarou had his phone.
They found another vacant high table and Akaashi pulled out his phone. "I'm going to let him know where we are."
Kenma glanced at Koutarou who continued to stare at Akaashi. Well, it wasn't really a stare as much as Koutarou looking at Akaashi with so much damn yearning that Kenma felt a little ill.
Kenma made a face at Koutarou. "Ew." Koutarou was shaken out of his longing and stuck his tongue out at Kenma. Kenma just sighed.
"Koutarou, It's been three hours."
"Yeaaaah?"
Kenma deadpanned at the taller man. "Phone."
Koutarou shook his head. "Nope. No way, I finally got you into one of these things, I don't want to find you hiding in the bathroom playing Mystic Messenger at 4 in the morning." Koutarou ranted, gesturing wildly before pausing.
"Again."
Kenma rolled his eyes. "Phone, please. "
Koutarou shook his head again. "Nope, nope, nope." He said, smiling rather annoyingly.
“Koutarou, I am a 25 year old man. Give me back my cellular device.”
Koutarou merely laughed at him.
Alright, that’s it.
He wanted to at least catch the last couple minutes of Kurekoma’s stream. But his precious phone was held captive by the unfairly large giant that he called a friend.
Thus, Kenma’s inner rage was unleashed.
"Koutarou, give me my phone back or I swear to god I will grind your bones into flour and have Shouyou use it to make muffins, of which I will throw every single one off the top of Tokyo Tower never to be enjoyed ."
His words sliced through the air and a dead silence fell across the table. Akaashi looked mildly amused, and Koutarou’s face was aghast.
Someone laughed.
It was loud. Almost like a hyena, full of fast inhales and exhales, gasping for breath and shrieking.
" OOoooh my god," The stranger howled.
Kenma turned around so fast he almost got whiplash.
He knew that laugh.
Standing right behind him was someone that he had seen everyday for the last ten years without ever actually meeting.
Someone who had been with him through the screen, cackling, screaming, or just talking. THe person who, when Kenma thought he wasn’t gonna make it, thought the company would fail, and he would fail, cheered him up just enough to keep going. Who had rescued him from behind a screen while Kenma had cried in the bathroom after their first review. Who he’d seen throughout the seasons, throughout hard times and good times and maybe this wasn't how you were supposed to think about your favorite internet personality, but that’s how Kenma thought about Kurekoma .
His hair was even wilder in person.
His dark eyes had teared up from his laughter, now reduced to hiccuping gasps. His maroon dress shirt hugged nicely to his chest, framed by a black suit jacket and matching slacks. It moved up and down with each gasping breath, which, Kenma thought, is what a chest is supposed to do when you’re gasping for air.
So why am I so fixated on it? I breathe too.
It’s very hard to take your eyes off of someone like him, it turns out.
He attempted to focus on the diamond studs in his ears, but those were much too close to the taller man’s lips for any words that came out of Kenma’s mouth to be somewhat coherent. In fact, it seemed like anywhere near his face was too close to his lips.
“Oh, Kuroo, you found us.” Akaashi exclaimed. He seemed to finally catch his breath. “Ah, yeah.”
Kenma truly thought he had died, because Kuro-
Kurekom-
Just, Kuroo - was standing right in front of him and just…
Smiling?
Kenma did a double take.
Yes, those were definitely Kuroo’s eyes staring at him.
That’s-
“OH MY GOD???”
Kenma jolted a bit at the shocked yelp, his hair standing on end.
“You’re Kurekoma !” Koutarou continued, gaping at the man in front of Kenma.
Kuroo’s eyes rather unfortunately- Or very fortunately, depending on if you were Kenma or not- flicked away as the tall man gave a shining smile to Koutarou.
“In the flesh!” He responded, seemingly unphased.
Koutarou sighed happily, shuffling closer to Akaashi so that Kuroo had room to stand at the table. “Akaashi, you’re the best! My name’s Bokuto Kotarou, it’s great to meet you, dude!” He said, holding his hand out for a shake.
Kuroo grinned, stepping closer to the table to join them, all feline smiles as he shook the offered hand. “Bokuto, you said?” At least now he wasn’t as close to Kenma as he had been.
Kuroo sent a pointed look at Akaashi that flew directly over Koutarou’s spiky hair. It could’ve been the light, but Kenma thought he saw Akaashi’s ears darken by a fraction.
“Kuroo Tetsurou. It’s great to meet you too.” Kuroo smiled. He seemed to do a lot of that. Kenma’s cheeks hurt a little just thinking about it.
“Me and Kenma watch your videos; Well, both of your videos,” Boktuo started. “Religiously, man! Ah, this is so cool!” Koutarou looked at Kenma, his owlish eyes wide.
“Aren’t you glad you came, Kenma?!” He exclaimed, buzzing with excitement
Kenma immediately stiffened under the gaze of the three of them.
Iwaizumi can take over the business. I’ll get Shoyou to hide the body. I’m gonna kill him.
He tried to keep his voice even and calm, his eyes at a spot somewhere above Kuroo’s left shoulder, and his expression disinterested. He nodded his head curtly, and spoke quietly, his hand held out tentatively.
“Kozume Kenma. Nice to meet you.”
“Kuroo Tetsurou.” He responded. Looking at it, actually looking at it: Kuroo’s smile was not unkind. Mischievous? Yes. Did he look like he wanted to eat Kenma a little bit? Possibly. But was he being polite, and not crawling into his personal space or shoving himself at Kenma? Was there something in his eyes, in his smile that looked genuine?
Also yes.
“Pleasure’s all mine.”
That grin would be the death of him.
The moment his fingers touched Kuroo’s, it felt like an electric shock. More than a shock- Like there were a thousand lightning strikes connecting in the skin that separated them.
Zap zap zap.
He shook Kuroo’s hand quickly, tearing his own hand back as soon as he could. Kuroo blinked, his hand still hovering mid-air.
Out of everything, every possible reaction-Kenma didn’t expect him to smile.
The conversation picked up quickly after that. Koutarou and Kuroo were becoming fast friends, and although Akaashi was much quieter than the other two, he had managed to win some huffs of laughter from Kenma (after a particularly good set of whispered one liners).
Kenma tried his best to tear his attention from the curve of Kuroo’s jaw, or how the golden light of the room glanced across his face.
It’s a miracle that with how much Kenma was watching Kuroo’s mouth, he almost hadn’t noticed that the man had begun to talk to him.
“You work with Koutarou, right?
Kenma nearly choked on his goddamn ginger ale.
But the key word was nearly, and so he didn’t choke, even if he sputtered a bit.
“Uhm...yes.” He said, wiping a bit of stray ginger ale from the side of his mouth. It went down the wrong pipe, was all. Yes, that was definitely it.
Kuroo nodded. “What do you guys do, anyway? Or like, what do you work in?” Kuroo questioned.
He didn’t know? He could understand not knowing who he was- Again, Kenma wasn’t exactly the poster child for Bouncing Ball , preferring to do his work internally- but Koutarou had become a prevalent face in the gaming community. He had a KFC commercial and everything; It was hard not to know who the boisterous man was.
“...Games, if you couldn’t tell.” It was a cop-out, but Kenma was having a hard time grappling with the fact that he was existing right now.
Kuroo chuckled at that. “That’s fair; Koutarou said something about you two watching my videos a lot?” The statement was pointed, but Kenma didn’t see where. He simply nodded in response. Kenma was an honest man, but that didn’t mean he’d be telling Kuroo just how much he watched his videos. Or how much he liked them or him for that matter.
Kuroo was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “What do you think your favorite video is?”
Kenma raised an eyebrow in question. “Of- Of mine, I mean.” Kuroo added. Was it his imagination, or did Kuroo seem... nervous?
“Trying to test your own fans?” Kenma spoke quietly, a small smile weaving its way across his lips. (It often did when it came to Kuroo).
Kuroo chuckled, the blush covering his cheeks obviously no more than a trick of the light. “No, I just...like seeing what people like, I guess.” Kenma looked into his ginger ale as Kuroo spoke. “It’s fun, seeing what kind of person someone might be from what video they like the most.”
Kenma hmm-ed , swishing his drink. His favorite Kurekoma video? Was it even possible that he had one?
“What kind of person?” Kenma asked quietly.
“Well...oh here’s a good example.” Kuroo began. “I asked my friend Tsukki this one time, and he’s a super serious dude, very no nonsense.” Kuroo said, making a mock serious face.
“I asked him what his favorite video of mine was- Expecting some snarky remark about how none of them were, or at least like a dark playthrough or something- but he told me that his favorite was this one where me and my other friend did that…watermelon rubber band challenge?”
Kuroo let out a huff of laughter. “That video is just an absolute mess- I started that day in a white shirt and by the end I looked like a Game of Thrones extra.” Kuroo shrugged as Kenma muffled a chuckle into his cup.
“It was just funny; it was probably because he has a thing for my other friend- He was the one that did it with me- but it’d be nice to think that ole’ Tsukki still has some spark of joy in that cold heart of his.” Kuroo grinned at Kenma, all shiny white teeth that looked sharp when you looked fast enough.
Kenma felt his face heat up by a fraction.
He looked back into his ginger ale. He swirled it in the cup, thinking.
He liked the ones where Kuroo got scared; Ending in hyena fits of laughter. He liked the ones with his friends, cracking joke after joke and Kenma lay in bed half-hyperventilating. He enjoyed the serious ones, the ones with heartbreaking games and powerful messages. He liked the short ones, just 20 seconds of a random cat in the street. He liked the long ones; Hours long streams of something as seemingly trivial as Uno , or as in depth as Dark Souls .
Kenma thought some more. He was quite good at doing that.
“I...don’t think I can choose.” Kenma tried not to sound too pained.
He just liked Kuroo.
It didn’t matter if he had dug himself into a hole in Minecraft, was playing a harrowing round of WiiFit, or was just talking to a camera in a quiet room.
It was Kuroo. All of it.
He tried not to be terrified of that.
Kuroo raised his eyebrows in surprise before smiling. “Y’know, I don’t think I’ve gotten that one before.”
Kenma shrugged limply in response, a bit shocked by his own feelings. “Any close seconds then?” Kuroo grinned at him. Kenma didn’t refrain from rolling his eyes.
He let out a huff of amusement at his own immediate answer.
“The Cartridge Cats playthrough.”
Kuroo’s eyebrows rose high to his hairline. “ Cartridge Cats ?! Really?!” Kuroo exclaimed before smacking a hand on his forehead and laughing. “Holy shit, I haven’t heard that name in forever. That was a long time ago, damn.”
Cartridge Cats had been one of the first games that Bouncing Ball Corp. had released; It was a small, awful project that Kenma had hoped he could forget for years. His ideas had been shoved down the drain, and the small team they’d been able to hire had been more interested in scamming them than anything.
But then Kenma had found Kuroo’s playthrough.
He had hovered his finger over the play button for 5 minutes, a silent debate between accepting his shortcomings or avoiding it.
He pressed play, and laughed harder than he had in his entire life. He rolled on the floor of his apartment- Actually, literally, rolled as Kuroo’s onscreen cat became so malformed and glitched that the poor man had just gotten up and walked to the corner of the room, crying in laughter.
The game was absolutely horrible, and it was a nightmare to play.
But it was hilarious to watch.
(They had been sharing an apartment at the time, and Koutarou had rushed into the room in fear of Kenma having some sort of an attack- He’d never heard the younger man be so loud)
Kenma smiled. “It was an awful game.” He said. Kuroo sighed. “That it was.”
“The graphics-” Kenma started.
“The controls-” Kuroo added.
“The cats.” They spoke in unison.
They stilled in unison too, and Kuroo looked at him a little wide-eyed and blushy. But, you know, the lighting in here had made Kenma think people had been blushing all night so that was probably it.
“God, the cats.” Kuroo whispered, but he was staring at Kenma like he wasn’t saying that at all. Kenma nodded simply.
“The cats were the hardest to animate.” Kenma noted. “Yeah, I mean-” Kuroo stopped short.
“Wait...what?”
Kenma just looked at the flabbergasted man next to him, taking a calm sip of his ginger ale. Inwardly, he was freaking out at the way Kuroo stared at him. Looked at him at all.
“You...You worked on Cartridge Cats ?” Kuroo asked in an odd mix of disbelief and awe. Kenma simply nodded, taking some enjoyment in the fact that he’d been able to shake Kuroo’s boots a little.
Kuroo.exe seemed to have stopped working. Kenma very nearly waved a hand in front of his face to see if he had actually frozen, before the man suddenly came back to life
“Oh my god. I just completely slandered it.” Kuroo looked at him, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I am so, so , sorry you guys must have worked so hard on it-”
Kenma giggled.
Kenma Kozume giggled.
Kenma Kozume didn’t giggle. He just didn’t.
But now he was, because here was Kuroo Tetsurou standing in front of him, freaking out about hurting Kenma’s feelings over a game that he loathed.
As he caught his breath, he almost missed Kuroo staring at him with an absolutely indecipherable look.
Kenma smiled wryly at him “I hated it too. That game sucked.”
It seemed to take a few minutes for Kuroo to reboot. “Right. Yes. Right. Awful. Game.” He spoke in chopped sentences, staring at Kenma.
He shook his wild head of hair. “What did you do on it? The game, I mean, so I know what to avoid absolutely slandering for future reference.”
Aaand he’s back.
“Well...I came up with the original idea, and Koutarou helped develop it. It was one of the first games we made.” Kenma sipped his drink. “I was sort of the manager for it, but mostly just the owner.”
“The owner? So you and Koutarou own the company?” Kenma nodded in response.
Kuroo looked thoughtfully at him. “What’s the name of it? I probably know, with the amount of games I play.” He chuckled, taking a sip of his own drink.
Kenma’s smile was small, but it was truly vicious.
“Bouncing Ball Corp. ”
Kenma narrowly avoided the epic spit take.
Lev, rather unfortunately, did not. (“KUROO!”) Kuroo whipped around to fully face Kenma. “You own Bouncing Ball Corp.?!”
Wild dark eyes, closer than he had ever imagined seeing them-
“Kenma! Here’s your phone!”
And then Koutarou was standing behind him.
“You’re free to go! Thanks for tonight; I’m gonna take Akaashi home, okay?” The taller man practically tossed him his phone before bolting out of the venue.
But before Kenma could even process that, he had something else to deal with. He turned back to see the same wide eyed expression adorned on Kuroo’s face.
“Yes, Kuroo.”
Oh.
That was new to say.
Kenma felt his face heat up a little before he did something incredibly stupid.
Something incredibly un-Kenma.
“...Give me your phone.”
Kuroo’s eyebrows raised.
But he did. Kuroo handed Kenma his phone, unlocking it as he went.
Very, very quickly, Kenma typed in a new contact.
“Here.” He said, handing the phone back to a still flabbergasted Kuroo.
“Text me if you want. Koutarou will probably want to see you anyway.”
Kuroo just nodded. “Right. Koutarou.”
Kenma nodded, and just stood for a second, not sure where to go; Turning around to leave this party, and this boy with his wild black hair and his cat eyes.
“You too, right?”
Kenma stopped, turning back around. Kuroo still stood there, phone in hand.
“...You’d want to see me too?”
As If that wasn’t unbelievably cheesy.
Kenma’s eyes widened, and he was sure Kuroo could see the crimson covering his face.
Tonight was full of surprises, perhaps.
“..Yes.” Kenma said, quietly, so no one but impossibly him could hear.
Kuroo smiled. It was soft, and fond, like they had known each other for much longer than they really had.
Kenma turned and ran out of the party.
.
It’s weird meeting someone and knowing so much about them, but them not knowing a thing about you. And most people never got to know Kenma. Not really, at least. He could count the people that did on one hand.
His mom, Koutarou, Shouyou, Iwaizumi, and...
His soulmate.
They couldn’t exchange names. At least not until after they met. Even something that vaguely resembled Kozume Kenma would instantly turn into a smudge on his skin.
But even so, his soulmate knew everything about him. A feat that few can accomplish.
So in turn, he learned everything about his soulmate.
Kenma knew his soulmate loved cats. He knew that in middle school, his soulmate had somehow managed to pop a volleyball in his first big game. He knew that his soulmate loved chemistry, even if he hated the class.
He lived in Tokyo, too.
Kenma huffed quietly into his comforter.
In the end, there were a number of reasons that Kenma couldn’t like Kuroo.