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A sharp gasp ripped from Kenma’s chest. He’d tried to open his eyes, but was met with an incredible, stabbing pain. He stilled instantly, trying to slow and deepen his breaths in hopes the agony would pass.
“Oh, you’re awake!” A voice cut through the air, coming from somewhere just above Kenma’s head. It was a little too loud and definitely on the cusp of panic.
Kenma tried to nod to acknowledge the observation, but was immediately overcome with a wave of nausea. He stilled, focusing on his breathing so the sensation would pass. The immense pain radiating through his head was subsiding at least, but he still felt trapped in a thick, heavy fog. Normally he’d have an indication at least of which direction he should walk to leave the mist, but he had no such inkling.
If he didn’t feel so sick maybe that would worry him more.
He tried to open his eyes once more. It wasn’t as horrible as his first attempt had been, but it still brought on another intense wave of pain. He hissed, tossing an arm over his eyes. He needed to just breathe for a while. Nausea still lurked in the back of his throat, but that too was passing. Just breathe.
“Are you okay? You look pretty green.”
Oh, yes. The voice. Kenma had forgotten that he wasn’t alone. He could sense a hand hovering over his arm, unsure. Kenma took one last steadying breath before responding.
“I’m a wood nymph. I’m supposed to be green.” His voice was low and hoarse, made rough around the edges from biting back the niggling urge to vomit.
“Okay, that’s good,” the voice said, a bit relieved. “But are you supposed to bleed out the side of your head?”
Kenma winced, made suddenly aware of the wetness against the back of his arm where he’d cast it over his face. “No,” he whispered, “That’s not supposed to happen.”
The voice hummed, high and anxious. “Alright, well, I’m gonna be real. I don’t really know how to help wood nymphs. My specialty is supposed to be dead people and you’re very clearly not dead, so… What do I do?”
Kenma took a few more breaths to try to clear the fog in his head. What did he need?
“I need to get back to my tree.”
“Your tree?”
“Yes. Wood nymph. I need to get back to my tree.” Kenma hummed, trying to think through the haze. “It’s an apple tree.” He paused, took a few breaths. The pain was fading to a dull ache, but he couldn’t shake the fuzzy disorienting feeling.
The voice waited patiently, but Kenma could feel the tension radiating next to him.
“If I can just get back to my tree,” he sighed, “That should clear my head.”
The voice let out a thoughtful noise. “Will getting you back to your tree stop the bleeding?”
Kenma cringed. He had forgotten about that.
“No, that isn’t how it works,” he sighed.
“Right then.” Something rustled beside Kenma. A large, warm hand closed gently around his shoulder. The voice was softer when it next spoke. “I want to help you. I can carry you inside and bandage you up. Then, I’ll help you find your tree. Okay?”
Kenma nodded.
He was still afraid to open his eyes, so when a pair of strong, solid arms wrapped underneath his shoulders and knees to lift him dizziness overwhelmed him. He grabbed weakly at soft material, turning to press his face into a warm chest to try to ground himself. A spiced, heady smell enveloped his senses, reminiscent of the incense and smoke from a funeral pyre.
Whoever carried him moved carefully, but with purpose. Kenma listened to the way their footsteps sounded, needing to focus on anything other than the vertigo and nausea. He noted when they changed from the soft rustling through grass to a dry shuffle over packed dirt, then finally creaking over old wooden planks.
Kenma groaned as he was settled slowly onto a plush couch, the change in position once again unsettling his stomach. He really, really would rather not throw up.
“You’re looking a little wilty,” the voice pointed out, apprehension still clear underneath the lighthearted joke. “Can I get you something to eat?”
Kenma managed a small shrug, not quite trusting his voice. He was still desperately holding back the contents of his stomach.
“I don’t want this to come off as offensive or anything, but like… Can you eat apples?”
Kenma huffed out a surprised laugh, caught off guard. When he didn’t immediately spill his guts, he figured he was safe to talk.
“Yeah, I can eat apples. It might actually help a lot until I can get back to my tree.”
The voice let out a little noise of conviction. Kenma listened as footsteps hurried off to another room, quick and determined.
Kenma really, really wanted to open his eyes. He was inside now, and resting on a couch, so it should be fine, right? Even so, he moved very cautiously. He dropped his arm slowly from his face, wincing at the wet, sticky sensation. Then, ever so slowly, he peeled his eyes open.
It hurt a little, but it wasn’t unbearable. The room he was in was pretty dark and sparsely furnished. The furniture looked old, but well taken care of. Nothing hung on the walls, there were no books on the shelf–nothing at all to indicate what sort of person might live there.
“Alright, I sliced up an apple for you, and here’s a glass of water as well.”
Kenma looked toward the voice as it came in from the hallway. He couldn’t stop the little gasp that fell past his lips.
The voice belonged to a very tall, very handsome man. His hair was dark and messy, falling almost artfully over one eye. His shoulders were broad and his muscles well defined, but he wasn’t bulky or intimidating. He was smiling, looking incredibly soft and gentle for someone his size.
Kenma tore his gaze away to stare at the floor, feeling an embarrassing heat rise to his cheeks as the man sat across from him on the low coffee table and offered him a small plate. He took an apple slice and nibbled at it cautiously. When he didn’t immediately feel like heaving, he took a slightly larger bite.
Almost instantly, he felt the fog in his head start to lift and the ache in his head ease. His nausea settled as he finished the first slice, so he happily took the whole plate. The man smiled, seeming relieved that Kenma was perking up so quickly.
“Let me just go get those bandages then,” he said, setting the glass of water well within Kenma’s reach. Kenma hummed in acknowledgment, closing his eyes once more to focus on his food and the surge of wellness it was bringing on. The apple was crisp and delicious, one of the best he’d ever eaten.
The man came back with a wet cloth and a small roll of bandages. He looked to Kenma for permission before gently wiping away the blood and dirt on the side of his face. The rag was warm and soft, and as it cleared away the mess on his skin Kenma was surprised at how much better it made him feel.
“It actually doesn’t look too bad,” the man murmured, lightly grasping Kenma’s chin to tilt his head a bit as he inspected the wound. “The cut is pretty shallow. Head wounds can be deceiving like that. I’ll go ahead and wrap it just to be safe.”
Kenma let him work, trying not to think too much about how fluttery his heart was under the careful ministrations of the stunning man before him. Once the man finished, leaning back to inspect his work, Kenma cleared his throat a little. “Can you tell me where I am?”
The man’s eyes softened, apologetic. “Well, I don’t know exactly how you got here, but this is my little section of the underworld.”
Kenma’s eyes widened in shock. The underworld? How did he end up in the underworld?
The man, evidently misreading Kenma’s reaction as one of fear, was quick to wave his hands placatingly. “Please don’t worry, though! I promise I’ll take you back to your tree. You’re not dead, so I don’t have to keep you here. You must have just fallen through a tear and hit your head on the way down.”
Kenma hummed. “So, who are you, exactly?”
The man before him smiled shyly, tilting his head to the side as he rubbed the back of his neck. “My name is Kuroo Tetsurou, I’m a spirit guardian.”
Kenma raised an eyebrow, a silent request for more explanation.
“Spirit guardians are just assigned to different sectors in the underworld to help sort through good and bad souls, ease confusion, make sure they end up in the right spot and don’t get stuck, that sort of thing. I like it pretty well, but I haven’t been doing it for very long yet so there’s still a lot I don’t know.” He gestured to the now empty plate in Kenma’s lap and then the room around them. “For instance, I don’t know why I have food in my pantry, or even this house. I don’t need to eat or sleep or anything. I kind of just rest here when my supervisor, Yaku, tells me to take a break so he can focus on other rookies’ training.”
Kenma hummed thoughtfully and sipped at his water. With the apple having eased away his pain and nausea and his wound tended to, he was feeling incredibly drowsy. “Well, ‘m glad’ju have this place,” he slurred, blinking slowly.
Kuroo smiled at him, features open and kind. “Me too. Maybe you should lay down for a bit and try to get some sleep before I take you back to your tree?” Kenma only hummed, setting down his glass of water for fear of spilling it as it started to weigh heavier in his hand.
“You’re welcome to sleep here on the couch,” Kuroo offered, “But I also have a pretty nice bed. You’d probably be more comfortable there. At least, I assume so… I’ve never really used it.”
“Bed sounds nice,” Kenma muttered, head drooping as exhaustion fast overtook him. He’d never slept in a bed. It would be interesting to try one.
“Of course,” Kuroo said, reaching out to help Kenma up. He leaned heavily into Kuroo’s side as he led him down the hall into another sparsely furnished room. This one contained a rather large bed, made with fluffy pillows and an extraordinarily plush looking blanket. Kuroo drew the covers back and helped Kenma crawl in, waiting for him to settle back against the pillows before tucking him in.
Kuroo turned to leave the room, but then froze in his tracks. “Oh,” he said, turning, “I just realized I never asked you for your name?”
Kenma was fading fast, the edges of his consciousness crumbling away. He let out a tiny, content sigh and nestled deeper into the comfortable mattress, relishing in the velvety warmth of the blankets. He wouldn’t last much longer.
“Name’s Kozume Kenma. Please call me Kenma.”
Kuroo might have said something in response. Kenma was aware of a smooth tenor voice drifting across the room to him. But sleep was calling him and he couldn’t ignore it any longer.
✧✧✧
“Is this your tree?” Kuroo asked, looking down at the wood nymph beside him.
The little guy nodded, a small smile lighting up his delicate features. If Kuroo had a heart it might have skipped a beat.
“Well, glad I could help,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Sorry about your head, I hope you recover quickly.”
Kenma nodded, reaching up absentmindedly to toy with the edge of his bandages. “Thanks for your help,” he murmured, “I would have been lost without you.”
Kuroo’s stomach squeezed tight. He wished desperately that he could think of a way to spend more time with the nymph, but it wasn’t possible. He needed to remain in the underworld, and Kenma needed to remain with his tree.
At least he was used to being alone.
“Well, it was nice meeting you! Feel free to drop by anytime, but maybe try to avoid doing so literally.” Kuroo plastered a cheeky grin on his face to hide his distress. He really had enjoyed Kenma’s company.
Kenma made a little noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, then walked up to his tree. Kuroo watched as the nymph pressed his palm flat against the trunk and murmured something under his breath. Moments later, a low branch just above Kuroo’s head rustled. He looked up and watched in awe as a little bud burst open into a small white flower. Before his eyes, the blossom gave way to a shiny, flawless apple. It was mostly pink, though a spray of gold adorned one side.
Kenma gestured to the apple, well within Kuroo’s reach. “I want you to have it,” he said, “As a thank you.” He looked down at his feet, bare toes digging into the lush grass. Kuroo swore he could see the faint green deepen over his cheeks. “Besides,” he continued, “I owe you one for your pantry.”
Kuroo beamed at the nymph, reaching up to take the apple. He sensed this was something very special, a gift not often given.
“Thank you,” he said, holding the apple close to his chest as he trailed a finger over it. The flesh was smooth and oddly warm. He saw Kenma shiver out of the corner of his eye.
“Well, guess I’ll be off then,” he said, giving Kenma a little wave. He turned and walked off a little way into the forest, not wanting to tear open a portal to the underworld right in front of the nymph. Once his back was to Kenma, he let his calm facade crumble away and frowned. He’d have to talk to Yaku when he got a chance and ask him if he could perhaps arrange his schedule so he could visit Kenma’s forest every once in a while. Surely Yaku would understand… The souls of the dead weren’t much company.
He sighed as he ripped a portal open and stepped through to his front porch. He tossed the apple gently into the air a few times, wondering as he stepped inside if planted seeds would sprout in the underworld. Would Kenma be able to visit him then? Or was he linked to the parent tree?
A rustle from the bedroom stopped him in his tracks.
Was someone in his house?
No way. None of the other spirit guardians ever dropped in without warning, not even Lev. Was a lost soul trapped in his house? That would be bothersome, but not unheard of. Kuroo set his apple down on the small table beside his front door for safekeeping and walked silently toward his bedroom. He’d left the door open, so he slowly peeked around the doorframe.
“Kenma?”
Kuroo stepped into his bedroom, perplexed. The little wood nymph was sitting in his bed, looking just about as confused as Kuroo was.
“Didn’t I just leave you with your tree?” Kuroo asked, gesturing vaguely toward the ceiling with his thumb. He let out a nervous laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. “What, did you miss me already?”
Kenma furrowed his brow. “You mean, you didn’t do this?”
Kuroo stepped closer, searching the nymph’s face for any hint that he might be playing a trick on him.
“No,” he said slowly, “I left you at your tree and then came right back home. How did you get here?”
Kenma stared down at his hands, playing with his fingers. “I sat down under my tree right when you left so I could rest a little longer. But then I got really cold all of a sudden.” He shifted on the bed, drawing his legs close to his chest. “I tried to stand up to go sit in the sun, but then I blinked and I was here. In the bed.”
Kuroo groaned. This couldn’t be good.
✧✧✧
Kenma was surprised, to say the least, about how well he’d taken to the situation.
After his initial vanishing act and subsequent reappearance in Kuroo’s bed, the spirit guardian had been just as stumped as he. He took Kenma right back to his tree, only for the same thing to happen immediately.
After a laughable amount of trial and error, they learned a few things.
Firstly, Kenma only reappeared in Kuroo’s room once Kuroo stepped back into the underworld. As long as Kuroo stayed with him, or in the general area, Kenma could sit by his tree as long as he wanted. The problem was that Kuroo couldn’t stay away from the underworld for too long, lest newly departed souls start running amuck. However, he made a point of taking Kenma home for at least a little while every day so he could be with his tree and get some sun. Before long, they were going on long walks through the woods together on days Kuroo wasn’t so busy. Kenma taught Kuroo about all the different plants to pass the time, and Kuroo always listened intently.
Secondly, Kenma felt fine while he was in the underworld, despite being so far from his tree, as long as he ate one of Kuroo’s apples each day. Neither could figure quite why that was, but attributed it as likely due to Kenma’s being linked to an apple tree. Oddly enough, the pantry replenished with fresh apples every day. Kuroo had no explanation for that either. He did grow worried that Kenma would tire of eating the same thing every day, but Kenma assured him it was fine. The apples were delicious, and he liked watching Kuroo cut them into perfectly even little slices just for him.
Finally, and not really related to whatever was going on with their whole inseparable problem (probably…?), they both really liked each other’s company. Maybe they were both just lonely from having spent so much time alone, but Kenma truly enjoyed being around Kuroo. For a man who dealt with death every day, he was surprisingly sweet. Maybe being empathetic came with his line of work. He was incredibly sensitive to both the needs of lost souls and Kenma’s wellbeing. He’d initially promised to leave Kenma to his own devices as much as possible, since the whole situation was probably his fault and he felt terrible about it, but Kenma genuinely liked being around him. So for the most part, they stayed together.
Kuroo promised he would get help from his supervisor, Yaku, as soon as he could. He was pretty sure his elder could help them figure out what was going on. The problem was that the senior spirit guardian constantly had his hands full, what with a whole fleet of rookies to train. Evidently, Lev (an absolutely useless spirit guardian, but pretty nice once you get to know him) was such a handful that the more capable newbies, like Kuroo, went weeks or months without check-ins from Yaku.
Kenma found he didn’t particularly care how long it might take for Yaku to fix things.
As the days and weeks passed, they learned more about each other. Kuroo was fascinated with Kenma’s life as a wood nymph. He said he didn’t mind working with the dead, but it was so beautiful that Kenma helped keep the forest around his tree healthy and thriving. He was very interested in seeing if he could get seeds from Kenma’s tree to grow in front of his house, so Kenma decided to help him try. It took a little encouraging, but Kenma managed to get two little sprouts going.
Kuroo was absolutely over the moon. Unlike Kuroo, Kenma did have to sleep every night. They fell into a habit of Kuroo lounging in bed beside Kenma each night, talking until he fell asleep. When Kenma woke up, he almost always found him crouched beside the little saplings, cooing at them and just staring at them in awe.
“It’s so nice to have a little bit of life down here,” Kuroo explained one morning when Kenma asked him why he was so enamored with the baby trees. “Everything is so static in the underworld. But these little guys grow and change every day. It’s remarkable.”
Kenma almost hoped that Yaku would never get around to them.
✧✧✧
After three long months, Yaku finally appeared at Kuroo’s front door.
“Sorry, Kuroo,” he said with a sigh when the tall spirit guardian opened his door, “I haven’t been meaning to neglect you. Lev is just such a handful. ”
Kuroo waved his hand in the air, nonchalant. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I know how it is.”
Yaku grinned ruefully at his charge, then ducked forward to give him a solid chop to the ribs. Kuroo wheezed, caught off guard, before bursting into laughter.
“You’ll never understand my pain,” Yaku lamented, brushing nonexistent dust from his hands. “Now, tell me, how have things been? Souls are all in order? Wings coming in nicely?”
“I have wings?!” Kuroo twisted around frantically, scrabbling at his back.
“Oh, did I neglect to mention?” Yaku grabbed Kuroo’s shirt to stop him spinning, then ran his hands between Kuroo’s shoulder blades. He hummed thoughtfully, sticking his tongue out as he felt around.
“Yep, I think you’ll start to see some development soon!” he confirmed. “I can feel the little wing buds coming up. You’ll want to find someone to help you massage that, by the way. It’s gonna hurt a bit. Oh, and watch out for ingrown pinfeathers! Those are a real bummer.”
Kuroo stared at his senior in shock. “Yaku, I don’t want to be rude, but how do you forget to mention to someone they should expect wings to sprout out of their back .”
Yaku crossed his arms over his chest and let out a long-suffering sigh. “I really am sorry about that, I’ve just got so much on my mind. A handful of the newbies are just so helpless, especially Lev. It’s been eating up all of my time, I hadn’t even stopped to think of what I might be forgetting to tell you.”
Kuroo nodded, making note to have Kenma feel around his back later to make sure he hadn’t dreamt up the whole conversation with Yaku.
Ah. Right. Kenma.
The wood nymph was napping in Kuroo’s bedroom, so Yaku hadn’t seen him yet to ask what was going on. For a fraction of a second, Kuroo considered not bringing it up to his superior. Kenma didn’t know he’d dropped by, and Yaku had no idea Kenma existed. He could just… neglect to mention it, and things would remain as they were.
He really didn’t want Kenma to leave.
But he couldn’t in good conscience do that to the little nymph. He needed his freedom back, so he could walk through his forest and live in the sunshine without being tied to a being of the underworld. He needed warm breezes and open skies, not stale air and wailing spirits.
Besides, Kenma would probably still want to be his friend. They could visit each other at least, maybe every few days if Kenma wasn’t tired of him.
And if he was, at least Kuroo had those little apple trees to watch.
“So, anything to report?” Yaku asked, moving into the kitchen to take a seat. “Questions? Comments? Concerns?”
Kuroo shifted uncomfortably. What was the best way to do this?
“Kuroo?”
Kuroo and Yaku both looked toward the hall, where a very sleepy wood nymph was standing at the entrance to the kitchen. Kenma was wearing one of Kuroo’s shirts, which was long enough to fall about mid-thigh on the shorter man. He rubbed at his bleary eyes, mouth falling open in a little yawn. His hair was rumpled from his nap and his cheeks were a brighter tint of green from having just woken up.
Kuroo had never been so overcome with the desire to cover someone in kisses.
“Yes, Kenma?” he asked, watching Yaku as he addressed the nymph. His supervisor simply looked curious, remaining silent.
“I’m thirsty.”
Kuroo chuckled fondly. “I’ll get you a glass of water then, sprout. Why don’t you sit at the table with Yaku?”
At the mention of the elder spirit guardian’s name, Kenma’s gaze flicked to the table. All vestiges of drowsiness left him in an instant. He was wide awake. Kuroo had never seen Kenma afraid, not even when the screams of lost souls woke him in the middle of the night. His expression was still mostly neutral, but Kuroo could just pick up fear in the tightness around his eyes and the slight curl of his shoulders.
Was he afraid of Yaku?
“Your name is Kenma?” Yaku asked, trying to ease some of the sudden tension. “I’m Yaku, it’s nice to meet you.”
Kenma nodded, moving to sit at the table. He chose the chair furthest from the spirit guardian and stared resolutely at the table.
Kuroo quickly fetched the glass of water, then returned to sit beside Kenma. If the little guy was scared, the least he could do was offer a sense of security. He shifted so he could knock their knees together a bit. Kenma sipped his water and continued to study the grain pattern on the table.
“Yaku,” Kuroo started, clearing his throat, “I actually did have a question for you. A few months ago, Kenma fell into the underworld and got a little banged up on the way down. I helped him get cleaned up and sorted out and took him back to his tree. He’s a wood nymph, by the way.”
Kuroo glanced to his side to make sure Kenma was doing alright. He had his glass clutched tightly in one hand, while the other fiddled with the collar of his shirt.
“When I came back to my house after dropping him off, Kenma had appeared back in my bedroom.” Yaku quirked a brow, but made no move to interrupt Kuroo. So he continued.
“We’ve tried everything we can think of to get Kenma home, but every time I leave him he just appears back here. I know it’s odd, but can you help us figure out what’s going on?”
As Kuroo finished explaining the situation, a sheepish grin spread on Yaku’s face. “Ah, Kuroo, as it turns out… Wow, did I really not mention this to you during your orientation?”
Kuroo narrowed his eyes at his superior. “Did you not mention what, exactly.”
Yaku threw a hand behind his neck, rubbing at it as he let out a nervous chuckle. “Well, ah… Did you by any chance give Kenma some food that first day you met?”
Kuroo’s stomach dropped.
“Yes,” he said hesitantly, “I gave him one of the apples from my pantry. And he has to eat one every day now or he gets sick from being away from his tree.”
Yaku winced. “It just so happens,” he explained, “That if a spirit guardian gives food to someone not of the underworld, and if that someone accepts it of their own free will… Well, that’s a marriage contract. You two are married.”
Kuroo’s jaw dropped. He heard Kenma’s glass clatter to the table beside him.
“We’re what!?” Kuroo leapt up, ready to jump across the table and strangle Yaku. Could he kill another spirit guardian? He’d be happy to find out.
“Kuroo, please, calm down and–”
“Calm down? Calm down? Yaku, how could you neglect to mention something so important? You’re telling me I’ve gone and sentenced Kenma to a life trapped in the underworld? A wood nymph trapped in a land without forests? And you want me to be calm ?”
Kuroo noticed Kenma trembling by his side. He elected to spare Yaku for the time being, and fell back into his seat beside Kenma. He reached out slowly, taking the wood nymph’s shaking hands in his own.
“Kenma, I’m so, so sorry,” he said, squeezing cold little hands between his own. “I had no idea. I had no intention of trapping you here with me, I swear. I promise, I’ll do whatever I have to to free you.” He whipped his head around to glare at Yaku. “He can be freed, yes?”
Yaku nodded frantically. “It’s possible, yes, but–”
“No, please.”
Both Kuroo and Yaku directed their attention to the shivering nymph.
“No what?” Kuroo asked gently.
“I don’t want to leave.”
Kuroo’s stomach soared into his throat. “You… what?” he choked.
“I don’t want to leave.”
“But Kenma, you’re shaking like a leaf. Are you afraid I won’t let you go? You don’t have to worry about upsetting me.”
Kenma shook his head. “I’m not afraid you won’t let me leave. I’m afraid you’ll make me.”
Yaku coughed from across the table. “Well, I’ll just… Go ahead and step out then. You two seem to have a lot to talk about.” The little spirit guardian turned and fled, leaving no room for protest from Kuroo.
Kuroo let him go. He was right, after all. He and Kenma did have a lot to talk about.
He cleared his throat and looked down at the wood nymph in front of him. Kenma was staring resolutely at Kuroo’s chest, his long hair falling messily about his face. Kuroo, unable to stop himself, reached out and pushed the soft locks behind Kenma’s ear.
“What’s that about being afraid I’ll make you leave?” he asked gently. He was confused, but he felt a warm glow of hope burning from somewhere deep in his chest. He tried to push it down though, waiting with bated breath to hear what Kenma had to say.
“I like it here. With you. I like being with you. I don’t want to leave.”
Kuroo failed to bite back the desperate whine that rose from his chest. He hadn’t been prepared for Kenma to say that.
“But, Kenma,” he whispered, “We’re married. I married you without your knowledge or consent. I didn’t mean… I wouldn’t want to force that on anyone, least of all you.”
“It’s not forced,” Kenma murmured.
The glow in Kuroo’s chest started burning hotter. He wouldn’t be able to keep it in check much longer.
“It’s… not?” Kuroo asked cautiously.
“No,” Kenma confirmed, “We can be married. It’s nice.”
Kuroo was absolutely beaming, his stomach soaring. “Yeah?” he asked, “You mean it?”
Kenma scrunched his nose, sticking his lip out in his signature pout. “Of course I mean it.”
Kuroo was overjoyed. “Kenma. Can I please, please hug you.”
Kenma nodded, and not a moment later Kuroo was on his feet with Kenma wrapped tightly in his arms. The little wood nymph smiled into his chest, nuzzling close and grabbing tight to the back of Kuroo’s shirt.
“Please,” Kenma whispered, “Don’t ever let me go.”
“Never.”