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This was way too much effort, Kenma thought, sighing as he set the tripod upright and secured the camera on it. If Oikawa hadn't promised him that new game, he would be at home, replaying the first title in the series…
Well, he’d be doing that anyway, but it was cold out here. And the grass was itchy.
Kenma pressed the button to record, pointing the lens up at the sky and the constellation there. The Feline-- Oikawa probably thought it was fitting or something, to send him to watch the meteor shower from a constellation of his old high school's mascot. It wasn't really.
Kenma sat himself on the ground, pulling his knees to his chest. He tried to tug his socks up and his pant legs down to block out the scratchy grass tips, to no avail. “Ugh.”
With one last glare at the grass, Kenma pulled out his console and flicked it on, starting up his game. He didn't bother muting it; partly out of spite, mostly because he didn't think it mattered. The meteor shower wasn't likely to have sound effects. Anyway, the soundtrack of this game was a good one.
Several minutes passed, enough time for Kenma to beat two levels, definitely. But then his screen began to get harder to see-- he was pretty sure shooting stars weren't that bright…
Kenma raised his head to find that yes, it was getting brighter, and now that he was paying attention, the air seemed dryer, too, warm and crackling with energy that made the hair on his arms stand on end. Whatever this was, it wasn't a normal meteor shower at all.
He should never have agreed to this. Oikawa owed him two games for this. Or maybe three.
Kenma jammed his PSP back into his pocket and lunged out of the way of whatever that giant glowing thing was, just before it hit the ground. It was a bit of a distance away… in fact, Kenma probably hadn't even had to move.
… Oikawa definitely owed him three. Dirt and dust and even loose leaves or blades of grass sprayed outward from the impact, enough of it reaching Kenma that he had to cough to clear his throat. And now his favorite hoodie was dirty. And probably smelled vaguely smoky, like the rest of the plain did now. Great.
Again: “ Ugh .”
When the dust had cleared, Kenma was surprised at the general absence of meteor. If there was no meteor, what had fallen?
The answer turned out to be: a human. Or at least, a humanoid. Kenma didn't know, really, and he didn't dare approach it (him? her? them?) until he was certain. This wasn't one of his games-- even though it sure seemed like one of them… this would actually be a really interesting premise if no one had used it yet...
Anyway, it wasn't a game, and if whatever (whoever?) that was wasn't safe, Kenma could suffer from far worse than a little inconvenience. (Speaking of games though, his was still on, and the tinny soundtrack coming from his speakers was lending all of this an almost comedic effect. He switched it off; he’d just started anyway, so there was no progress to worry over.)
Even if he-- as the figure stood, Kenma could tell it was most definitely a he -- was safe, though, Kenma wasn't sure he was sane.
Kenma trusted his mental faculties enough and had an open enough mind to allow this odd and very incomprehensible event as real, so the one whose sanity he was questioning was the… star… there.
He was muttering to himself, groaning and grumbling something about… zoos? No, Zeus . Greek gods? Huh. It felt a little weird for Kenma, since they were currently in Japan, but maybe the man wasn't Japanese at all. He looked it though.
Plus, that was hardly the strangest thing about this encounter.
… encounter felt like a poor word choice. This guy didn't seem alien and sci-fi so much as faery and fantasy (or maybe closer to god/demi-god; faery sounded dumb). Oikawa would want to call him an alien though.
Kenma resolved never to tell him about this if he hadn't had a similar encounter. Maybe he’d talk to Suga or Yaku. Those two were mellow enough. And actually helpful.
He eyed the man curiously. Messy, raven hair that spilled over into a fringe covering one eye-- seriously, that was a mess . It might have been from the fall and the air currents, but… Kenma had a suspicion it was always like that. His face in general had a sly sort of look to it; narrowed eyes and a sharp jaw, a mouth that look predisposed to smirking. The wry smile he was currently wearing as he complained to himself only drove that point home. In terms of brute strength, he definitely had Kenma beat (not that it was difficult, but Kenma did play volleyball to a certain extent). He was taller by at least half a foot, it looked like. He also had broader shoulders (that the setter's eyes lingered on a little) and a generally thicker build, corded with muscle and skin a shade darker than Kenma’s own.
(Kenma further noted, with a mixture of amusement and secondhand embarrassment, that he was only wearing a thin white skirt of sorts, like a starter character for an RPG or something.)
Kenma’s quiet scrutiny came to an end as the man finally turned the 45 degrees or so necessary to move Kenma from his periphery to his main line of vision.
They blinked at each other.
Kenma’s every instinct was to duck his head, stick his hands in his pockets, and walk away. That's what he usually did. People were annoying, and interacting with them was stressful. But he resisted that urge as best he could; there was enough distance between them that if the man seemed dangerous, Kenma could probably still get away. He didn't really know why he was considering something like that, though… Maybe he was a little loony after all. If he were in his right mind, he would be long gone by now.
The star, for his part, seemed rooted to the spot by the same force that gripped Kenma. His eyes were wide, mouth still open mid-word, and he was looking straight at Kenma. Kenma really thought he ought to leave. Now.
But he didn't. He stood, stock-still, like a deer in headlights.
The other man seemed shocked, but not hostile, so Kenma allowed some of the tension to leave his body-- not quite all of it, though. Better safe than sorry. Then, finally, the surprise melted away into a friendly (though a little uncertain) smile.
“Hello there, I… well… I didn't hurt you, did I, kid?”
His voice had a teasing lilt to it, just under the surface of his tone. As if he were used to laughing at himself and others both. From his behavior, it was clear that he wasn't the haughty sort who found himself above disgrace, and that was another point in his favor, Kenma supposed. Also, he spoke Japanese, so at least Kenma had been right about his race.
But “kid”?
“I’m not a kid,” Kenma huffed. “I’m 21.”
The other man again looked a little startled by this information, looking Kenma over as if seeing him all over again. Kenma tried not to squirm. He hated being looked at.
“Oh. My apologies then.”
Kenma nodded his forgiveness.
“I… would it be all right if I asked for some help? I suppose I'll be back here on Earth for good now--” the man began, and Kenma took immediate notice of the word back. He was from Earth originally? How? What?
See, this is why Kenma preferred the virtual world over the real world. The real world made almost no sense, even with his unusually high perception skills.
“-- and I need to find somewhere to stay, you know, and food…” A flush trickled across his face, and he averted his gaze. “Clothes, probably. Even back when I was imprisoned this sorta thing--” he tugged at the fabric of his… skirt-- “was basically an undergarment.”
Kenma’s eyes went round. Oh no. What was he supposed to do with that? He didn't want to offer. He couldn't! But he was hardly cruel enough to just let him loose on a world he no longer knew...
As if on cue, the setter's phone chimed, signalling a text. Suga.
Kenma read the text quickly. The same thing had happened on the other end of town where Suga was? He flicked his attention up to the star, who was watching him in puzzlement. He didn't seem familiar with a phone either… hm…
Tapping out a response, the setter sighed in relief when Suga promised to come get them. At least he didn't need to figure out a solution himself.
“Excuse me?”
Kenma lifted his head. Bobbed it once. “Yeah. Sorry. My friend will be coming to get us. He’ll help.” Probably.
“Oh! Great. Thank you.” The man approached at a jog, but clearly thought better of it on catching Kenma’s reactive flinch, slowing instead to a walk and coming to a complete halt a decent distance away from him. That was… considerate. “Sorry. Can I ask what name you go by?”
“...” Was that safe? Eh, whatever. “Kenma. Kozume Kenma.”
“Kuroo Tetsurou,” came a response that Kenma didn't really need nor want, but he filed it away in his head anyway.
“Hm…”
“You… aren't very fond of conversation, are you?” When he didn't receive an answer, he went on, “That's all right. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” He smiled again, and Kenma bit his cheek, because for some reason, he had nearly returned it on reflex. Kenma had almost never done that except with Shoyou.
He ducked his head so that his fringe covered his face, and he wouldn't have to see Kuroo’s grin anymore. This was unsettling. Kenma really hoped Suga got here soon.
/////
Conversation with: Yaku Morisuke
Hey Yaku, did Suga
text you too?
Yes, it happened to me too.
I'm going to kill him if you guys
don't get here next. He keeps
calling me short. And cute.
HE PATTED MY HEAD THAT'S
IT THIS NOODLE-LIMBED
FUCKER IS DEAD.
Um.
Conversation with: Sugawara Koushi
Suga maybe you should
get Yaku first.
Image attached
…
Yeah probably. Sorry Kenma,
looks like you’ll have to wait a
while longer.
K.