Chapter Text
The pizza parlor door's bell sounded a little louder than usual, like the force with which it was hit nearly knocked it off its string. More like a car hitting a metal pole than a delicate ring, and yes, Kuroo knew what both sounded like.
In other words, Kuroo didn't have to turn around to know Terushima had arrived. Tsukishima kept sipping his soda leisurely, Kuroo's jacket draped around his shoulders. He used to look so stiff in it, awed almost, the blush traveling up his neck as he traced his hands over the fabric.
A year later, it was like a second skin, and having Kuroo by his side was just as normal.
It never stopped satisfying him though, and Kuroo inched closer, the only one unconcerned with Terushima's frantic gaze. Suga and Yamamoto munched on their pizza a little too happily as they watched the scenario played out, and only Futakuchi looked somewhat concerned as he turned around in his seat.
They still weren't dating, but Kuroo liked to think they were making progress.
Kuroo and his boyfriend grinned as they watched Terushima barrel in too fast, nearly tripping on the freshly mopped floor, excitement carrying him to their usual table. The anxiety resting over all of them didn't seem to be affecting Terushima, at least not yet.
Then again, Kuroo didn't exactly feel it as bad this time around either. He'd be safe and sound, packed into Tsukishima's home, now their home, with their friends for the night.
So, he relaxed, knowing a bruise was the worst injury Terushima would probably suffer in the next 24 hours.
Without missing a beat, Matsukawa walked over to Terushima's hunched over form, placing the wet floor sign down a moment too late. Kuroo loved this place, even as Semi rolled his eyes from the counter. Whatever, as long as Kyoutani kept giving them free pizza, they'd keep coming back.
Though, Tsukishima had made him quit for his own safety reasons, which Kuroo gladly complied to. Bokuto and Akaashi were more than happy about that too, their faces less troubled as he'd dropped them off at the airport. They'd better get him a good souvenir from Hawaii, or there would be hell to pay.
Kuroo's grin grew as Terushima sprung up, like a daisy (after it had been trampled by a tractor), and flashed them the grin he'd managed to preserve through all the struggle and strife of the past year. Staying up late, working with law firms, collecting petitions...
He'd spent his every waking moment towards drumming up legislation proposals, attempts to end the Purge, and he'd gathered a following to rival the opposition.
Now, it was just a matter of time. Another year, and things could be different...
Kuroo never thought he'd see the day where he'd be so optimistic again, prepared to fight the good fight.
It's what made watching Terushima fumble about as promising as it was funny.
The leader's hand landed on Futakuchi's shoulder immediately, out of habit, while the other grabbed a slice of pizza. "Sorry I'm late...had to turn in a final essay. Whoever decided the day of the Purge would be a good time to make a final paper due is evil, and I hate them."
Aside from that, Terushima had gone back to college, his path to law school bright and already blazed with opportunities.
Even still, he managed to make time for his crew, terrible influencers and all.
"Feel like going on a quest? We could drive a hole through your professor's house this time," Suga proposed, the mischief in his eyes too deadly to be a joke. Tsukishima tensed against him at the idea, and bless Yamamoto, he delivered a dutiful slap to the back of Suga's head.
Luckily, Terushima had common sense.
"I don't think I'm that desperate," he said, and the table sighed in relief. Maybe because they all knew no matter how much they complained, they'd have no choice but to go. But for now, all was right in the world.
Or, as right as it could be, on the worst day of the year. Hopefully one of the last, and it eased the weight on Kuroo's chest, the panic is his mind. They had a plan, they had each other.
They'd be more than alright.
At the thought, he leaned down, kissing the top of Tsukishima's head. The table gagged collectively, though he was almost 100% sure Terushima and Futakuchi were just jealous.
Perhaps tonight, all alone, there would finally be a breakthrough between the two of them.
Kuroo could dream.
"Alright, alright," Futakuchi groaned as Tsukishima smirked at the affection, unafraid to bask in it. Kuroo loved him even more, for accepting everything bravely.
"Enough. You guys ready to go?" Futakuchi asked with a final gag, looking around the table. Suga and Yamamoto nodded excitedly, more than ready to be safe and cooped up in the large house on Elm.
Not West Elm, but Elm.
They had two hours to go, more than enough time, but the antsy-ness hadn't completely left them. They rose from their chairs, already clamoring over each other. The sun had already started to lower as afternoon turned to evening, and Tsukishima began collecting his to-go back with shaking hands.
Something he'd never be over, none of them would be. But they took care of each other, and Kuroo helped his boyfriend stock up on more than enough junk food to last him the night.
He looked up as the group traveled to the door, waving to Matsukawa and Semi with well wishes. The two had already begun to close up, and Kuroo was thankful the company had decided to stop operating during the Purge.
As much happiness as his last delivery had spurned, Kuroo knew no amount of money justified that experience.
And of course, he'd rather have his friends be safe. Semi shot him one last smile before disappearing into the back, and Kuroo knew they'd all be okay.
He looked to where Terushima strode towards the door, careful of his steps this time around. Always a fast learner, that one. As expected, his friends swarmed him fondly, the leader of their pack, and it warmed Kuroo's heart more than anything.
Well, almost.
Ready to go, Tsukishima laced their hands together, and Kuroo let him lead. It tended to work out better that way, especially on this date. It was surreal to step out of the door with one last wave, letting the smell of fresh pizza and cheese bread leave his nose, the ring of the bell less ominous than he would've thought.
He'd give Tsukishima credit for that too, just because.
As if sensing Kuroo's cheesiness, Tsukishima looked back, gaze telling, and Kuroo couldn't wait to hold him close for the night. They both looked up, eager to watch the rest of the group gather around the SUV parked outside.
When he and Tsukishima had finally gotten around to buying a car together, no other kind would do.
Yamamoto's loud reassurances that he'd packed enough snacks didn't even bother Kuroo this time, nor did Suga's complaints about ice cream or Futakuchi's incessant fidgeting with the radio as they all piled in.
He took his rightful place behind the driver's seat, for it had been agreed upon that Tsukishima would always drive, no matter how capable Terushima became.
Tradition, they called it.
And of course, with tradition, came routine. The bullet proof vests and emergency weapons in the trunk were a precaution he and Tsukishima would never go without, no matter how much time they had or how clear the roads looked.
In the end, they'd never stopped being protectors, like Tsukishima's dogs, curled up at home and waiting for their arrival.
Didn't matter how smooth the sailing became, Kuroo wouldn't lose this, and as if reading his mind, he met Tsukishima's gaze in the rearview mirror.
Bright, loving. Kuroo's.
They pulled out of the parking lot as the parlor's lights shut off, the arguing in the car blending together as it usually did, but none of it made him have regrets.
Once upon a time, Kuroo dreamed he'd be rich enough to move away from this cursed nation, safe and healthy with all his friends without the Purge looming over him every month until March rolled around.
His plan hadn't unfolded in the way he'd predicted, but the goal was looking to be promising. They'd fix this nation instead, one step at a time, and meanwhile...
Meanwhile, he'd enjoy what he could, even the smallest things, even in the darkest of moments. When the pain and reminders were too much, he'd make it. He had help this time, way more than enough.
Just twelve more hours, he told himself.
They would handle that just fine.