Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kenma sighs as he lets his gaze trail out the window. It’s been gloomy all day, the sky overcast and dreary. It’s perfect for a day tucked in his bed and playing all his favorite games to his heart’s content.

But instead, he’s stuck here at school, dreading the fact that it looks like it’s going to rain because that means he’s probably going to get drenched on his walk home. He grimaces just imagining the feeling of his cold, wet clothes sticking to his skin.

“Kozuke,” his teacher calls out, snapping Kenma’s attention back to the class. He nearly stands until he realizes she didn’t actually call on him — just his classmate with an eerily similar surname. “Read the next passage.”

Kenma sighs and slumps back into his seat. English is his least favorite subject by far. 

It had been fine enough when he was in middle school and had been able to get away with just memorizing a couple of phrases, but now in high school, he’s been forced to start reading and reciting stories. And every single time Kenma is called upon to read a passage, he wishes he instead had the option to just shrivel up and die.

Which is why he usually tries paying attention during this class. He doesn’t ever want to endure the humiliation of admitting to the whole class that he has no idea what’s going on. But this story they were currently reading is so awful he can barely be bothered.

Apparently,it’s meant to be some sort of love story, but everything about it feels wrong. It tells the tale of a flamboyant, shallow love that looked pretty but was full of imbalance and subtle shows of disrespect between the couple. And while he’s no relationship expert, he could tell when something sounded fake or unhealthy. 

Luckily, since he’s already been called on for the day, he can just check out of the lesson for the remainder of class. He leans more comfortably back in his seat, and tries to keep his face looking somewhat interested as he starts to daydream about the new game he has waiting for him at home.

That again reminds him of the impending rain and this time he tries not to let his face change as he thinks about what he’s going to do. He hadn’t brought an umbrella to school because the sky had looked clear that morning, but maybe Kuroo had one they could share? Ah, but when he and Kuroo share umbrellas, Kuroo always holds it too high and ends up getting Kenma wet. 

Maybe if they held it together?

“So as a reminder, your written assignment is due in a week,” their teacher announces, snatching Kenma’s attention and distracting him from the funny feeling rising in his chest. Once her words register, he scrunches his nose. He hates written assignments — English has so many dumb little rules. “Remember, it’s about looking at the themes of love in the story we’ve been reading, and either agreeing or disagreeing with the theme.”

Kenma sighs as he packs up his things. The last thing he wants to do is work on this, but he hasn’t thought about the assignment once since his teacher had talked about it last week, and he needs to get started on it if he’s going to turn it in on time. At least he’s done with class for the day. All he needs to do is make it through practice that afternoon, and he’ll be done for the day.

Kenma pulls his phone out as he makes his way out of his classroom and towards the clubroom. Distantly, he recognizes that he should probably look up, but he knows he can count on Kuroo to keep him out of the way. 

Kenma stops. 

Where’s Kuroo?

He looks up and finally notices that Kuroo is not next to him. He’s usually waiting outside of his class at the end of the day so they can walk to the clubroom together, Kenma not needing to falter as Kuroo fell into step beside him. But today, either Kenma had missed him or Kuroo just wasn’t there. 

Kenma feels a weird tug at his stomach at both thoughts. 

“Kenma!”

He turns at the sound of his name, and sees Kuroo weaving through the crowd of students to get to him. 

“Sorry, I had to run back to my class to get this,” Kuroo says once he reaches him. Kenma looks down at the proffered hand and sees an umbrella. “I started keeping a small one in my desk just in case.”

As if to punctuate his point, the sound of thunder rumbles from outside. It still hasn’t started raining yet, but it really is only a matter of time.

“I forgot mine,” Kenma says as he starts walking again, feeling much more settled with Kuroo at his side. “It didn’t look like it was going to rain earlier.”

“It’s fine, we’ll just share mine,” Kuroo says with a shrug as he falls into step with Kenma. “It’s what we usually do anyway.”

“Yeah, the usual,” Kenma says dryly. “Where I get soaked because you’re too tall and hold the umbrella up way too high.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m too tall,” Kuroo teases, holding the door out of the building open for Kenma. “Besides, that just means you’ve got to stand closer to me.”

“You’re so dumb,” Kenma replies, but the smile tugging at his lips belies the effect, and he knows Kuroo had caught it by the grin on his face. He rolls his eyes. “Let’s just get to practice already. Maybe by the time we’re done the rain will have passed.”

Unfortunately, they’re not so lucky. During the last half of practice, the rain had finally started falling, the sound reverberating from the ceiling into the entire gym. By the time the team has finished cleaning and packing everything up, it’s coming down in sheets. 

“This is kind of ridiculous,” Yaku sighs as he peers out of the clubroom. 

“Any chance we can just wait it out?” Lev asks as he finishes pulling his shirt over his head. “We can play games like truth or dare, or never have I ever, or—”

“Kuro, let’s go,” Kenma says, tugging insistently at his jacket. He may not be excited about the rain, but there was no way in hell he was going to risk playing something like truth or dare with Lev.

Kuroo picks up his sport’s bag, and tosses the clubroom keys to Yaku. “You all can stay if you want, just remember to lock up.”

“Aw, you’re not gonna stay?” Lev asks, but Kenma is already stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him before he can listen to any of his complaints. The last thing he needs is the rest of the team all agreeing with Lev and coming together to ask him and Kuroo to stay for ‘just one round’.

Nothing was ever ‘just one round’ with this group.

The door opens again, and Kenma looks to the side to see Kuroo looking at him expectantly.

“I didn’t want to play,” Kenma says as he starts walking further away from the room, only to stop when he realizes Kuroo is the one who remembered the umbrella.

“I didn’t say anything,” Kuroo replies, though the look on his face speaks volumes. “Even though I have to admit that walking home when it’s raining isn’t one of your better ideas.”

“We just have to walk to the train station, don’t be so dramatic,” Kenma says as he takes the umbrella from Kuroo’s lax grip to open it himself. The sooner they started walking, the sooner they could get back to his house where it’s dry, warm, and free of Lev.

“Yeah, I’m still holding this,” Kuroo says as he moves to take the now open umbrella back from Kenma, but Kenma dodges his hand, staring at him with narrow eyes. Kuroo narrows his eyes right back. “Kenma, every time you hold the umbrella, it always ends up hitting my head.”

“Crouch then,” Kenma replies as he holds the umbrella over his head. 

“Oh my god, why are you so difficult?” Kuroo groans before he wraps his own hand around the hand Kenma is using to hold the umbrella. “There. Now we can both have a say over how high we hold it.”

And then Kuroo starts walking. And usually Kenma would fight him on this a little more because Kuroo’s hand is bigger than his and would definitely win out in any tug of war situation that would break out between them — except, for whatever reason, the moment Kuroo had held his hand in his own, the assignment from his English class pops into his mind. 

And it stays in his mind as they make their way to the train station. Usually Kenma has a game to distract his mind with, but he can’t really pull his handheld out right now. Kuroo is talking to him and Kenma listens absentmindedly — Yaku solved a problem faster than him in class today, Bokuto had texted a funny meme to the captain’s chat— but he can’t seem to shake his mind off the assignment he has due at the end of the week.

He’s known about it for a while, but hadn’t really worried much about it before. But that was before he had finished reading the book, and realized that despite all its failings, it had been trying to be a love story.

It’s a simple story of ‘boy meets girl’, but it had been full of deceit and lies and pretty words, and everything had gotten resolved much too easily by a grand gesture at the end. The boy and girl live happily ever after, and none of their previous problems are ever addressed.

Kenma narrows his eyes. Who could think love is as shallow as that?  

“You’re being even quieter than usual,” Kuroo says as they approach the train station. Kenma lets out a sigh of relief at the sight of the building — he’d be able to play a game or two on his phone under its precious cover — before Kuroo’s words register in his mind.

“Just an assignment I’ve got on my mind,” Kenma says with a small shrug. Once they’re under the cover of the station, they lower the umbrella and Kenma is pleasantly surprised to see that he’s completely dry. He looks up from his inspection to see Kuroo glancing away from him with a proud smile on his face. 

He purses his lips, but lets him have this.

The rest of the way home is much more like the usual. By the time they reach their stop, the rain has calmed down and Kenma can probably get away with walking the rest of the way home with just his hoodie.

He still steps under the umbrella with Kuroo anyway. 

And this time he actually responds to what his best friend is telling him. He refuses to laugh at some of his more ridiculous stories, but he can’t help the huff of amusement that comes out at a particularly funny one about him and Yaku.

“Yaku is the more responsible one between the two of you,” Kenma says as they enter his house and make their way up to his room. Neither of his parents are home yet — most likely delayed because of the rain — and Kenma is glad he doesn’t have to deal with Kuroo shouting his greetings across the house. 

“You’re only saying that because he spoils you!” Kuroo exclaims as he tosses his bags on the floor of Kenma’s room. “Everyone else knows that he’s the scariest of the upperclassmen.”

“You don’t get to critique him on that, you spoil me more than anyone,” Kenma says pointedly as he starts pulling out his homework from his bag. At Kuroo’s silence, he looks up to see Kuroo looking at him with an indecipherable look in his eyes. It only lasts a moment, fading away once Kenma catches it, but it makes Kenma frown nonetheless. 

But he’s right. Kuroo has a tendency to let Kenma get away with a lot. Kenma is well aware of it. He’s used it to his advantage a couple of times. But it’s in the same way that Kenma has a hard time saying no to something when it’s Kuroo asking.

And then again, completely unprompted, his assignment from earlier pops up in his mind.

Kenma frowns. Maybe that’s a sign that he should start working on it.

About half an hour later, he wishes he had just ignored the sign.

Kenma reads a few lines from the book in his hands for the umpteenth time, and then collapses back onto his bed with a groan.

“That doesn’t sound like someone successfully completing their homework,” Kuroo calls from his place on the floor, and Kenma rolls onto his side to shoot him a glare. Kuroo looks up at him from where he’s writing in his workbook with a grin. “What’s got you so moody?”

“This stupid English assignment,” Kenma muttered as he glanced at his book disdainfully. “I’ve got to write about love of all things.”

“What’s so stupid about it?” Kuroo asks as he slides closer to the bed to grab at the book. Kenma lets him take it without a fight and Kuroo skims the page Kenma has it open on. “Oh, my class didn’t have to read this last year — what’s it about?”

“It’s some dumb love story that’s super outdated and is the worst representation of a ‘loving relationship’ I’ve ever read in my entire life,” Kenma deadpans as he looks at the cover of the book. “It doesn’t ever talk about feelings or trust or any of that - it’s just about looking nice and showing off.”

And none of that is what love is supposed to be about.

But Kenma can’t quite place why he’s so vehement about this. He knows objectively of course that the story was wrong, but it was also deeper than that. He feels down to his core that he absolutely knows there was a better way to go about love. He feels like the reason he knows is just on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t quite figure it out.

“Since when did you become the all-knowing authority on love,” Kuroo teases as he rests his chin on Kenma’s bed, and Kenma bristles before a frown mars his face.

Because it’s not like Kuroo’s wrong.

Kenma’s never really thought much about love or being in love or anything like that before. He doesn’t know where this feeling of rejection towards the story is coming from, or why he’s so adamant about the fact that he knows better.

Maybe the story is just that poorly written.

Either way, he doesn’t really have the words to explain any of that to Kuroo without sounding crazy.

“You don’t have to be a love expert to know that book is full of shit,” Kenma ends up saying as he pulls the book back from Kuroo’s grasp. “The bigger issue is that I don’t know what love is supposed to be like. If my argument is that this book is wrong, then I have to give my own explanation of how love should be portrayed.”

“You’re good at finding flaws, not so good at finding the good parts, huh,” Kuroo says with a quirk of his lips. Kenma rolls his eyes and Kuroo chuckles at him. “I mean, there is no singular right way to be in love.”

Kenma blinks at Kuroo, and Kuroo sighs and straightens his back a bit.

“There are countless stories with hundreds of different ways love is portrayed, right?” Kuroo starts as he trains his eyes out Kenma’s window. “And while not all of them are great, most of them have something right. But it’s all a little different. Because those stories are written by people, and each person has a slightly different understanding of what it feels like to be in love,” And Kuroo finally looks back to Kenma, and Kenma blinks in surprise at the smile on his face. “So, all you’ve got to do is find the best understanding of love for you.”

Kenma furrows his brows.

“For me?” he asks, wondering what that has to do with anything.

“Well, not for you personally,” Kuroo says quickly before clearing his throat and backing away from Kenma’s bed to turn back to his workbook. “I mean, like, for your assignment. Obviously.”

Kenma hums in response, not quite buying what Kuroo was saying, but having had enough of discussing the topic of love to let it slide.

Besides, what Kuroo had said makes sense. If Kenma can’t think of what love is supposed to be about, he can just try seeing how other books speak about it.

But just the thought of trying to sit through endless love stories in hopes of finding something that makes sense to him is enough to give him a headache. Even more so is the fact that he’s not just trying to find some explanation, but ideally one that’ll resolve whatever feeling he gets in his chest from the assignment.

But Kuroo did also say stories were written by people. 

Maybe he can just ask around and see what other people think about love. It would be embarrassing as all hell to broach the topic, but once he explains it’s for an assignment it should alleviate any awkwardness. And it’ll be easier than pouring over books for days on end.

Just to be safe though, he should probably start with asking someone who would be unlikely to make a big deal out of the situation.

-

“You want to hear about what I think love is supposed to be like?” Yaku repeats as he raises a single eyebrow. He’s looking at Kenma with a gaze that can almost be described as knowing, and Kenma finds he doesn’t like it at all. “Does this have anything to do with Kuroo?”

Kenma scrunches his eyebrows. “Kuro? No? What, did he tell you about the assignment?”

“What assignment?” Yaku deadpans and Kenma gets the feeling he’s said something wrong. 

“It’s for a paper for my English class,” Kenma says slowly as he trains his eyes on the net he’s undoing. Yaku is on the other side helping him, and Kenma had figured now was as good a time as any to spring the question on their libero. “We have to figure out what we think is a representative theme of love.”

“Oh, that’s what this is about,” Yaku says flatly, and his tone causes Kenma to glance curiously at him. Yaku sighs and continues, “Well, I didn’t have to do that assignment, but maybe—Kai!”

Kenma whirls around to see Kai walking out of the equipment closet. Yaku waves him over, and Kenma resists the urge to grimace. He does not want more people finding out about this. 

“Did you ever have to do an assignment in English where you talked about love?” Yaku asks as he approaches, and Kenma glances around to make sure no one else is paying attention to them. 

“No, nothing like that at all,” Kai replies as he looks between Yaku and Kenma. “Why do you ask?”

“Kenma’s got a paper he needs to write on it,” Yaku says and Kenma purses his lips. He does not remember asking Yaku to speak for him. “He’s got to figure out what love is supposed to be about.”

Hearing the words repeated out loud is so much worse than saying them himself. He turns his head, untying the final strings of the net, and oblivious to the frantic silent conversation Kai and Yaku are having. 

“So,” Yaku says loudly, pulling Kenma’s attention back to him. Yaku still has that knowing look in his eyes, and Kai’s smile looks strained, and Kenma is worried about what it all means for him. “A story that I’ve read that I think sums up love pretty well is one about these two idiots who’d been in each other’s lives forever. And no matter what trials or issues or assholes they had to deal with, they stuck by each other’s side. Their love was constant through it all.”

Kenma blinks at the word choice, but there is one thing that Yaku says that sticks out.

Constant . Kenma considers the word carefully. It sounds nice in theory, but he doesn’t think anything can really be completely constant. People change and grow and it only makes sense that love changes with them. What could have started as one type of love can switch to something else entirely. So, even if the love was there, it was always growing with them.

Kenma pauses. Them. Who’s them?

“I think that’s a good message about love,” Kai adds carefully and Kenma looks over at him. “But I think Kenma should look into this more on his own.” 

“Well, I think Kenma has looked into this enough on his own,” Yaku replies, turning to glare at Kai, and Kenma feels so lost right now. “We’ve given him time, so maybe all he needs a push.”

“Or we let Kenma work through this at his own pace, without meddling,” Kai says placatingly. “There’s no rushing these sorts of things.”

“I mean, it is due on Friday,” Kenma speaks up, and Kai and Yaku both turn to him as if they’d forgotten he was there. He looks away from their intense gazes and continues, “So, there is a  bit of a rush.”

“Right. Friday,” Yaku says blandly. All the fight seems to leave his body, and he gives Kenma a wry smile. “Well, if that helped any, feel free to let me know and I can get you the book I was talking about.”

“Wait, that was a real story you were talking about?”

“Kai, of course it was. I wasn’t going to just give him fake homework advice for the sake of…”

Kenma tunes the rest of their conversation out at that point. He hadn’t expected his talk with Yaku to last so long anyway, and he needs to hurry if he’s going to change and make it to class on time. 

Making his way from the gym and to the clubroom, Kenma isn’t surprised to see that the room is now mostly empty. He is surprised to see Fukunaga as one of the last people there. And maybe it’s because Fukunaga had already been someone he’d been planning on asking, or because his interaction with Yaku and Kai had still left him feeling on edge, but for whatever reason Kenma finds himself blurting out:

“Shouhei, can I ask you what you think about love?”

Immediately, Fukunaga’s eyes go wide and quickly begin scanning the clubroom. Kenma furrows his brow at the response, and slowly turns to look around the room as well to see what he’s missing. 

“Um, am I really the best person to be asking about this?” Fukunaga asks and he has never seen the put-together second year look so nervous in his entire life. Kenma huffs. “Like someone who has more experience, or someone who has been meaning to talk to you about this, or actually how about specifically-”

“It’s for an assignment,” Kenma says, cutting him off. Fukunaga freezes and then a second later all the nervous energy seems to drain from his body. Kenma narrows his eyes. “What did you mean by someone meaning to talk to me about this?”

“Uh… Yamamoto?” Fukunaga replies, and Kenma raises his brow at the way the sentence tilts up into a question at the end. “You two are in the same class, right?”

“No,” Kenma replies shortly. None of Fukunaga’s actions are making any sense, but he at least looks more normal than before, so Kenma just brushes past it. “Anyway, I have an assignment that needs me to think about how to best portray love, and I was wondering what you thought.”

“I’m surprised it’s not coming easy to you,” Fukunaga says, but before Kenma can ask what the hell he’d meant by that, Fukunaga continues, “But, I’m not really sure either. It’s kind of an intense question to be asking high school students. But if I had to pin it on one thing, it’d be this song my dad plays a lot. It talks about love as the sort of thing that comes and goes, y’know? Like a blink and you’ll miss it forever type feeling.”

Kenma nods slowly, carefully considering Fukunaga’s words.

He can definitely see where he’s coming from. Love is something that can spark completely out of nowhere, and if you don’t take that risk you can lose your chance at it. That’s what makes it so sought after, and why people were willing to do crazy things for it.

But that doesn’t quite settle with Kenma just right. Because love isn’t always like that. Sometimes it builds, slowly, and surely, day by day, until it just… Kenma blinks. He isn’t sure until what exactly, but he knows that it wasn’t always something that faded in and out. It can be constant.

But then why did Yaku saying constant not fit right either? Kenma feels his head throb.

“Thank you,” Kenma replies, looking down to continue packing his things. Even if it hadn’t been very helpful, Fukunaga had still helped him narrow it down... kind of.

“I didn’t help much, did I?” Fukunaga asks with a wry grin, and Kenma guiltily looks away. Fukunaga chuckles good-naturedly. “Can I ask you something?” he continues, and Kenma looks at him warily as he zips up his bag. “Why ask me this?”

“Well, I already tried Yaku and Kai,” Kenma replies with a shrug. “And I’m not asking a first-year for help with my assignment. Also, Taketora would combust the moment I mentioned the word love.”

“That’s a fair point,” Fukunaga laughs. “But I mean, isn’t there someone a little closer to you that you should be asking?”

Kenma frowns as he follows Fukunaga towards the door of the clubroom. He doesn’t know who else there could be to ask on the team that wouldn’t result in him just making a fool of himself. Unless...

“Do you mean Shouyou?” Kenma asks as they open the door. Fukunaga looks exasperated as he opens his mouth to reply, but he’s cut off by Kuroo who happens to have been waiting.

“What about Shrimpy?” he asks, as he straightens off the railing he’d been reclining on.

“Shouhei thinks I should ask him for help on my English assignment,” Kenma answers, pulling out his phone. He isn’t sure if he agrees with Fukunaga, but Hinata does have a tendency to speak without thinking. Maybe if he asks him, he’ll be able to get past whatever hurdles are holding him back from verbalizing the weird thoughts in his head. 

“Really? What makes you think that?” Kuroo asks Fukunaga, curiosity and confusion clear all over his face. Fukunaga looks back and forth between them in bewilderment.

“I didn’t— that’s not what I—,” he stammers out before he just throws his hands up. “Oh, whatever! Yeah, ask Hinata, why not?”

Fukunaga storms away from them then, and Kuroo looks down questioningly at Kenma. “What did you do to him?”

Kenma shrugs. Fukunaga’s behavior had been so strange Kenma thinks it might not have anything to do with him. What could he have done to warrant such a reaction, anyway?

Looking down at his phone, he goes to text Hinata to see if he’d be free to talk about the assignment. Kenma hears Kuroo chuckle, and follows him as he starts to lead them both towards their classes.

“You’re really listening to Fukunaga’s suggestion, huh?” Kuroo says as he glances down at Kenma’s phone screen. “I thought you didn’t want to ask first years?”

“Yes, but Shouyou isn’t a first-year here , so it’s not as bad,” Kenma says as he hits send on the text and slides his phone back into his pocket before any of the teachers can see it. “Plus, I can probably ask him without mentioning it’s an assignment and he’d just go along with it.”

“Yeah, that he would,” Kuroo chuckles as he approaches Kenma’s classroom. He pauses outside the door, and turns to look at Kenma. “Lunch on the roof? So you can work on that one game without worrying about getting your handheld taken away?”

“Okay,” Kenma replies with a small nod, and Kuroo smiles and brushes Kenma’s hair back before heading to his own classroom. It isn’t until he turns the corner that Kenma realizes that he’s still staring after him. Shaking his head at his absentmindedness, he makes his way into his classroom and tries to ignore the way his chest seems to tug at him.

He’s not very successful, though. Throughout all of his classes, he’s distracted with the thoughts going through his head.

Yaku and Kai had said that love was constant, but that didn’t feel like quite enough. Fukunaga had said love was fleeting, but that didn’t seem right for him at all. Kenma still has that feeling in his head, like when you’re trying to remember the perfect word for what you’re trying to describe, but only come adjacent to it; or, whenever you walk into a room with the intention of doing something, but as soon as you enter the thought leaves your mind.

The remnants are there, yes, but it’s not enough to figure out exactly what it is he can’t place.

By the time his classes have let out for lunch, Kenma thinks he’s got a headache coming with how much he’s overthinking the whole situation.

The only thing that makes him feel better is that Hinata has replied to his text. He’s immediately brought back down when he sees Hinata wants to call. 

“Just call him now, you’re both on your lunch breaks,” Kuroo says when Kenma tells him about it. Kenma huffs, and Kuroo just rolls his eyes. “Well, you’re the one who wanted to hear his thoughts. This is just how he wants to share it.”

Kenma glares at Kuroo for a moment more before he pulls out his phone and dials Hinata. The phone barely begins ringing before Hinata is answering with a loud and excited, “Kenma!”

“Shouyou,” Kenma replies, pulling the phone away from his ear as Hinata starts to ramble in response. Kenma repeats, “Shouyou, I can barely make out what you’re saying.”

Kuroo’s obnoxious laughter by his side goes both noticed and unappreciated.

“Sorry, sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to ask me something like that!” Hinata says as he finally began speaking at a suitable volume. “Why’d you want to ask me about love anyway?”

“It’s just something that’s been on my mind,” Kenma replies, hoping his vague answer appeases Hinata.

“Oh, okay!”

Kenma’s first win of the day.

“So I thought about it and I think I know how to describe the feeling of love,” Hinata continues and Kenma eyes widen. This is the most confident he’s heard anyone sound all day.

“So I think the first word that best describes it is PWAW’!” Hinata starts, and Kenma facepalms immediately. Kuroo’s laugh begins encroaching into hyena territory, and Kenma wishes he had something to throw at him. “But that’s just at the beginning! After a while, it turns into GAH until finally you feel like WOOSH.”

“Thank you, Shouyou,” Kenma deadpans. He can’t believe he’d thought this would work. “This has been really... informative.”

“But you know what’s funny?” Hinata continues, seemingly ignoring Kenma. “When I asked Kageyama,” and Kenma shudders at the idea of asking the scary setter anything related to love, “He said it was more like BLAM and FWOOM and GRAH. And I think that is right for him, just like my words are right for me. So maybe you just have to find your own words like that.”

“Huh,” Kenma says softly. He feels Kuroo looking at him now, laughter having faded away, but he’s still considering Hinata’s words. Maybe he has to find a way to put what everyone has been telling him in his own words.

Not that he knows how to begin understanding any of the ‘words’ Hinata or Kageyama had come up with.

“Thank you, Shouyou,” Kenma says again, this time much more sincere. They chat a bit more before Hinata says he really needs to eat, and Kenma promises to text him later to answer his questions about the new game Kenma had recommended to him.

“So that sounded like it turned out good,” Kuroo says as Kenma lowers his phone. Kenma doesn’t reply right away, instead taking the time to scan Kuroo’s lunch until he sees the banana he has tucked away and he snatches it from him.

“Hey!”

“That’s for being obnoxious,” Kenma says as he unpeels the banana and takes a large bite. Around his mouthful, he continues, “And it was. Sort of. I think I need more time to think about it.”

“I think you’ve been spending just a bit too much time thinking about it,” Kuroo says as he picks at the food in his bento. “Do you want to play your new game after practice to get your mind off it?” And Kenma’s eyes light up before he remembers what had happened when Hinata had come over last.

“I only have one working controller,” Kenma says with a sigh as his shoulder slump. “Shouyou messed up my other one by practically throwing it at the screen.”

“He came over weeks ago; why haven’t you gotten a new one yet?” Kuroo asks as he pushes Kenma’s own lunch closer to him. He rolls his eyes, but does scoop some of the food into his mouth before continuing.

“Too much effort — it was the anniversary edition and I doubt the store has it in stock right now,” Kenma says before he looks up to Kuroo with a small frown. “We can save it for another time.”

“It’s okay, I can just watch,” Kuroo shrugs and Kenma immediately shakes his head.

“It’s better as a two-player,” Kenma replies, though that isn’t completely true. But he had been expecting to play this game with Kuroo, and it feels weird not playing it like that now. Looking down to try and get a scoop of food with less vegetables, he misses the soft look Kuroo gives him.

“Well, then at least try and hold off on asking more people,” Kuroo suggests and Kenma looks back up at him. “Take in whatever Hinata said that made you look so sage and pensive.” 

Kenma flicks a spare bit of rice at Kuroo, but does take what he says to heart. But how does he rework the two contradictory things he’d heard that morning?

In his next class, he figures that there is something constant to love. It may not be all there is, and to reduce it to that would understate the rest of it, but he thinks if it’s there, it’s there. It’s unconditional, and not likely to simply fade away.

In the class after that, he thinks he knows what he can agree with Fukunaga on. Love is a choice. Even if it’s constant, a person has to choose to act on it. And if they never do, they run the risk of keeping the love stagnant forever.

And it’s that thought that puts an ache in his chest that lasts all the way to practice that afternoon.

But everything also feels closer than ever. Kenma pauses as he holds onto the volleyball he’d been chasing after into the corner of the gym. And he doesn’t know why, but something about the yellow and blue of the volleyball pulls at something at his chest like a thread he’s been trying to unravel for hours without seeing the end.

“Kenma?”

Kenma looks up to see Shibayama staring at him nervously. He’s surprised the first year is approaching him — given how nervous he always seems to be around Kenma — and he wonders if he’s missed some important announcement.

“I, uh, I heard about your assignment.”  Kenma is fully prepared to kill whoever is responsible for this spreading around. “And I just wanted to say that I don’t really know anything about love but...my parents call each other partners all the time. And I think when I fall in love, I’d want something like that too.”

“I don’t know if that helps,” Shibayama trails off, nervously tugging at the bottom of his shirt, but Kenma is barely paying attention because that’s been the closest anyone has gotten to what Kenma is feeling. 

Love is about being partners.

He tries to think on that more, try and continue pulling on the string that he knows is leading him somewhere important, but then Coach Nekomata is blowing his whistle and Kenma loses his entire train of thought. 

“Thank you,” Kenma says quietly to Shibayama, who gives a startled bow in response, before joining the rest of the team to huddle around.

The rest of practice, Kenma knows he’s off. He isn’t playing badly, but he’s distracted, and a distracted setter can ruin the flow of a whole practice. He tries to focus on what’s happening, on what his team needs from him, but a part of him is trying to find that thread again and it’s clear he’s not all there when one too many balls are set just a little short.

“Are you feeling alright?” Kuroo asks him as they take their first break. Kenma shrugs, not sure if he can explain away any of his behavior. Kuroo frowns, and glances over at Nekomata. “Maybe you should go home early. We’ve been wanting to have Tamahiko practice setting some anyway.”

Kenma can’t put to words why, but the suggestion stings more than he expects. And he’s really getting tired of not being able to put words to what he’s feeling.

So he agrees. And as the whistle blows and the rest of the team continues to practice, Kenma’s walking out of the gym by himself with a heavy feeling in his stomach.

He gets changed in the club room by himself. He starts the walk to the train station by himself. He looks at the umbrella he had brought just in case by himself. 

And Kenma likes his alone time. It was nice to spend time by himself, tucked away from the rest of the world. Likes it especially on days like this when the sky is overcast and dreary, but no rain has fallen yet.

But he thinks he maybe takes for granted the time he spends with other people, because for some inexplicable reason, he feels so lonely the entire way home. And this loneliness leads him to thinking about the question that’s been plaguing him the whole day.

And at this point, it’s barely even about the assignment. He can’t tell if the assignment is amplifying something or simply just messing with his head, but the whole situation has got Kenma obsessing about a phantom feeling and he hates it. He hates how invested in this he is, his inability to figure it out despite his investment, and most of all how close he feels to reaching it but still coming up short. No matter what he does or who he talks to, nothing is working for him.

Kenma blinks.

What works for him . This isn’t just about finding some abstract version of love that’s ‘correct’. It’s about finding the love that works for him. But somehow... Kenma feels like he already knows what that feels like. He can’t describe it or put it in words, but the only reason everything else feels so wrong must be because he already has something that feels right.

But how can that be? Kenma’s never associated himself with love at all before, and yet now that he’s forced to, he feels as if he’s known it all along.

But it’s bone-deep, and his feelings aren’t working with his brain and he’s just so tired of not knowing, of having the words on the tip of his tongue and then having them yanked beyond his reach.

Partners. That’s what Shibiyama had said that had resonated so clearly with Kenma; but, beyond that he has nothing to go on.

Frustrated and drained, Kenma flops down on his bed. He doesn’t want to deal with this anymore. He closes his eyes, and lets his mind wander as he fades into a nap.

The word partner continues to linger.

-

Kenma wakes up feeling groggy and with his head throbbing. He groans, rolling over and pulling his blanket even higher over his head. He’ll sleep the rest of the day away if he wants to.

“You wake up and immediately go back to sleep, even though I know you haven’t had dinner yet.”

Kenma’s eyes snap open.

He bolts up in his bed to see Kuroo sitting on the floor of his room, working on his homework like he belonged there.

“Have you just been in here while I was sleeping, like a creep?” Kenma asks, voice still raspy from sleep. He blinks rapidly to clear the sleep from his eyes, and is about to clear his throat before he sees a glass of water waiting for him on his nightstand.

“No creepier than the time you came into my room in the middle of night because I accidentally took your game with me, or the time you had a knife in your sports bag,” Kuroo lists and Kenma narrows his eyes. He’s purposefully taking those instances out of context. “Not to mention the time — ”

Kenma throws one of his pillows at Kuroo, cutting off whatever embarrassing instance he’d been about to bring up. Kuroo laughs, and Kenma feels his lingering exhaustion and stress melt away.

He can’t even remember why he was so tense in the first place.

Suddenly, the assignment and the word partners flashes in his mind, and Kenma groans as he falls back on the bed. Maybe he can just sleep forever, and never have to worry about any of his problems again.

“Wow, this assignment must really be killing you,” Kuroo says as he closes his workbook and turns to face Kenma fully. 

Kenma rolls over on his side to face Kuroo, studying him for just a moment.

“How’d you know it was the assignment that’s still bothering me?” he asks slowly as he keeps his eyes trained on Kuroo. He’s been awake for less than five minutes, there’s no way he’s given anything away that would lead his best friend to coming to that conclusion.

Kuroo shrugs before leaning back on his hands. “I don’t know, I guess just did,” he says with a small grin. And his words aren’t much on the surface, but Kenma feels them resonate with him. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, trying to find the best way to word his thoughts. But when he looks up to see Kuroo’s patient gaze, he’s speaking before he can think.

“Do you think…” Kenma starts slowly before taking a deep breath and sitting up fully. Kuroo looks surprised but remains silent, so Kenma continues, “Do you think that people can fall in love like that? Like they don’t know how or why or are even barely aware of it, but they just are. They’re just in love. And since they don’t really understand how it happened, it’s hard for them to put their feelings into the right words.”

And now that Kenma’s saying this out loud, he realizes how right it feels. It just makes sense. Love creeps up on people, and sometimes it’s impossible to tell that it’s there until it’s too late.

But he’s still not sure why he feels this so confidently.

“That’s probably true for some people,” Kuroo says slowly as a smile starts spreading across his lips, but there’s nothing happy about it. It’s rueful, and just a touch bitter, and the sight of it on Kuroo makes Kenma’s brow furrow. “But I think for other people...it’s more like a smack to the face. There’s no build-up or treading, but instead it’s like being pushed into the deep end.”

Kenma blinks. “That sounds awful.”

Kuroo laughs humorlessly, and Kenma feels even more concerned.

“You have no idea.”

Kenma frowns as he studies Kuroo more intently. His best friend’s eyes have been trained on the ground this whole time, and Kenma wishes he would just look up because he just sounds so forlorn and he wants to do something about it and he doesn’t know what.

What about this topic is making Kuroo act like this; look like this?

And then Kenma realizes he’s never asked Kuroo about his take on love. 

He’s asked him clarifying questions of course, and told him about the assignment overall. But he’s never asked Kuroo what love meant or felt like to him. He hasn’t even considered it.

But why hasn’t he considered it? And why, now that he is thinking about it, does he feel like he already knows the answer? 

Kenma feels closer than ever to some grand revelation, something that would finally explain why these past two days have been so off, why this whole topic has been invading all his thoughts. He wants to pull on this new string, pull on all the strings until he gets to the answer, but then Kuroo moves to grab his bag and he’s snapped out of his thoughts.

“Sorry, I didn’t come here to be a creep or make you think even more about the assignment that’s stressing you out,” Kuroo says as he digs through his bag. His entire demeanor seems back to normal, and Kenma doesn’t know if he should encourage it or ask him what had been wrong.

“No, you just came to do homework on my floor,” Kenma teases hesitantly, the jab falling flat but Kuroo’s huffing out his laughter all the same as he pulls out a small plastic bag.

“No, I only did that because you were sleeping like a bum in the middle of the day,” he says as he tosses the bag to Kenma.

Kenma catches the bag with minimal floundering, and shoots a glare at Kuroo. “You could’ve just woken me up…” Kenma starts, but he trails off as he notices the print on the bag. 

It’s from his favorite game store.

“You’re an actual demon when someone wakes you up,” Kuroo jokes, but Kenma is too focused on the bag to really pay attention to the words — or the nervous tilt to said words.

He reaches in the bag, and his eyes widen as he pulls out the plastic casing for a new controller.

The same controller he’d been complaining about just earlier to Kuroo in passing. Kenma’s lips part as he studies it, and then he looks back down at the bag and realizes there’s more. He spares a silent glance at Kuroo, and Kuroo seems to take that as some sort of cue to start talking.

“I just, well, you seemed so dismissive of the idea that they didn’t have the controller, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to call and ask,” Kuroo says as Kenma turns the bag so he can look deeper into it and Kenma’s breath hitches. “And they said they did, and I was going to suggest we go after practice but you weren’t feeling well so I just went myself.”

Kenma stares at the second item in the bag for a long moment before he pulls out the charm Kuroo had gotten him. It was a keychain, innocuous in every way, except for that fact that it had Kenma’s favorite animal crossing character, Punchy, munching on an apple.

“And this?” Kenma asks, and his voice sounds much more raw than he expected it to. And he doesn’t know why he’s so moved by this, why it means so much that Kuroo had seen the charm and gotten it for him, but he feels everything he’s been struggling with rising up in him at once and incredible and overwhelming and devastating and just so much .

“I just figured it’d make you feel better,” Kuroo says and he’s now smiling like he should be, with all the happiness he should always be feeling and —

Oh. 

Oh. 

Oh, god.

Is he... is he in love?

Is he in love with Kuroo Tetsurou?

Has he been in love with Kuroo?

Is that what these feelings have been? Why he’s been so confident about knowing what love is, why he started finally noticing the tugs in his chest around the guy, do other people not feel this warm and happy and good around their best friends?

“He’s even eating an apple — perfect right?” Kuroo adds like the complete dork he is as he leans closer to get a better look at the charm, and Kenma realizes that, no, there’s no way what he’s feeling right now could ever be explained away by friendship.

Then suddenly Kuroo’s proximity registers, and that coupled with Kenma’s new understanding about his feelings for Kuroo cause his entire face to heat up. He doesn’t need to look in a mirror to confirm that his cheeks are turning scarlet, but if he needs confirmation, the way Kuroo’s eyes widen as they scan his face seems to do the trick.

“Are you okay?” Kuroo asks in alarm, and Kenma just shakes his head because he can not begin trying to explain half the thoughts going through his head.

“I’m fine,” Kenma says quickly, sliding away from Kuroo and pushing his blankets fully off him to stand. “It’s just a little warm, and I haven’t eaten anything, plus I still need to shower…”

And Kenma is fully aware of the fact that all his excuses are weak, but Kuroo doesn’t push. He just gives Kenma a strange look, and turns back to his workbook. Kenma’s heart thuds.

How had he missed the signs?

“I’ll leave you to take care of all that then,” Kuroo says and Kenma realizes belatedly that he’s not turning to work on his homework, but instead to tuck it away. He bites his lip, wanting to ask Kuroo to stay a little longer, but also knowing it’s probably for the best if he gets some time alone.

Kuroo stands from the floor, and stretches his arms high above his head before turning to Kenma. “Are you going to be alright for morning practice tomorrow?”

“Yeah, today was just an off day,” Kenma mumbles and Kuroo nods, appeased. He moves to walk out of the room, but Kenma grabs him by his jacket sleeve. Even if he’s going through a minor crisis, he’s not going to let Kuroo just leave like this. “Thank you. For the game. And the charm. It… it really helped.”

Kuroo smiles large and wide again, and Kenma feels a little helpless at the sight. “Anything for you Kenma, you know that.”

“Because you spoil me,” Kenma says softly, but it lacks all the teasing from the day before.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” Kuroo sighs, and a ghost of the forlorn expression from before grazes his face before he raises his hand to Kenma’s head. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?”

Kenma nods silently and then just stays standing in his room as Kuroo finally exits. He waits until he hears him go down the stairs, leave the house, and then counts to ten before he allows himself the proper freak out he’d been suppressing for the past couple minutes.

He’s in love with Kuroo. He’s in love with the guy who could name all the noble gases on the periodic table in order. The guy who has literally the worst sounding laugh Kenma has ever heard. He’s in love with his ridiculous, dorky best friend who’d  gone out of his way to get him a new game controller after he mentioned it once just to make him feel better after an off day.

Kenma’s legs give out from underneath him and he barely catches himself on the side of his bed before collapsing on the floor.

Part of him wishes he hadn’t figured it out. Things were going to be so awkward around Kuroo now. He was able to distinguish differences in Kenma’s facial expressions that not even Kenma was capable of picking up — trying to hide this from him is going to be a nightmare. And he’s going to have to hide this from him. He doesn’t want to even begin to think of what it’ll do to their friendship if he finds out.

So yeah, a part of him hates this. But another part, an arguably larger part, is kind of in awe because Kenma’s in love. The feeling he’d been looking for, that had been just out of arm’s reach, that seems to linger over him more naturally than any other feeling is love. Love for Kuroo. 

Kenma brings his hand up and clenches it over his chest.

Despite all the trouble it caused getting to this point, and all the trouble it may cause in the future, Kenma thinks he wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything.

Chapter Text

Kenma can’t believe he thought that realizing he was in love was a good thing.

It’s been two days since his revelation and the entire time he’s been a mess. He’s noticing things about Kuroo now, things that he thinks he had always noticed, but had never fully appreciated. 

He notices the way Kuroo adjusts his stride to match Kenma’s inconsistent ones as they walk to school while Kenma is distracted with the game in his hands. He notices the way Kuroo’s hand hovers over his shoulder or head or back, but never makes contact. He notices Kuroo’s arms and the way they flex when he receives a particularly strong spike during practice.

He notices so much that he wonders how he never realized his feelings before. Wonders how he saw all this and never thought twice about it.

Wonders how he could be such an idiot .

Talking with his friends to confirm his feelings had only made him feel more embarrassed. Just the day before, he’d had a conversation with Yaku that still made him blush when he thought back about it.

“Yaku,” he had quietly said when he entered the gym. 

No one else is there yet, and Yaku looks surprised to see him. Or maybe just surprised to see him alone, if the way his eyes search around Kenma is anything to go by.

“Kenma, you’re never here this early.” Kenma thinks that’s a kind way to say he’s never here this early without Kuroo. “Is everything okay?”

Kenma nods slowly, picking at the edge of his shirt. “I just have one more question. About the assignment I asked you about yesterday.”

Yaku perks up, and pats the bench beside him. “What’s the question?”

Kenma hesitates before he takes the seat. The proximity is a little nerve-wracking - he can feel Yaku looking at him from his peripherals - but sitting next to him means he has a perfectly valid excuse to not look directly at his face. 

He doesn’t think he could ask this if he had to look at Yaku’s face.

Just the thought of the question makes Kenma’s ears burn, and he pulls his knees up to his chest to try concealing his face before he tentatively asks, “Do you think it’s possible to...be in love with someone, but not know it for a long time?”

Saying the question out loud sounds even dumber than it did inside his head. Kenma resists the urge to clench his eyes shut, waiting for Yaku’s response. When he gets nothing, he chances a glance to the side, only to see Yaku staring at him with his jaw practically on the ground.

Kenma’s eyes widen, completely unsure of what to make of the reaction, and Yaku immediately closes his mouth with an audible click.

“Um,” Yaku says, still looking completely bewildered but clearly trying to conceal it. “That, that’s great Kenma!”

Kenma’s eyes squint. “What’s great? I asked if it was possible…”

“Yes,” Yaku replies immediately, looking very emphatically at Kenma. “I think it’s completely possible to be in love with someone without realizing it. Especially when you’ve known them for a very long time.”

He says the last part pointedly, every other word coming out sharply, and Kenma ducks his head to hide the blush rising on his cheeks. 

He’s known Kuroo for a very long time.

“Oh,” Kenma says softly. His heart is racing in his chest and he isn’t sure exactly what to say. It all feels more real now, knowing that what he feels is actually possible and not just the result of some delusion his heart came up with to screw him over.

Yaku shifts beside him, and Kenma looks over to see him looking at Kenma with concern. Yaku opens his mouth, but is interrupted when the doors to the gym swing open.

“Yaku-san, Kenma-san, perfect!” Lev says as he walks in,  Shibayama following behind. “My favorite senpais are here!”

“You say that about all the upperclassmen,” Shibayama says as he goes to the closet to bring out the net. Yaku looks between Kenma and the first-years, but Kenma is already standing up. The last thing he needs is for this to spread around like it had the day before.

His conversation with Yaku had lingered with him for the rest of the day. He’d considered texting Hinata about it, but he figured he would just get a bunch of made up words thrown at him again. He couldn’t really handle that considering the fact that when Kuroo slapped his hand with a bright smile on his face after a successful quick attack, Kenma got it. His heart did in fact go ‘gwah’.

So now he sits in his room, the sun now setting and Kuroo at home helping his dad with dinner, and tries to figure out what to do with his feelings.

He knows he can’t tell Kuroo. That would change everything. The idea that Kuroo would feel the same is...

Kenma’s heart speeds up and he feels his mouth go dry. 

Impossible. It’s entirely impossible.

It’s also a thought that won’t leave him alone. 

Because what if there’s a chance that Kuroo is like him? He has the feelings buried deep, and just needs a push to realize them. 

But then there’s also the possibility that he just doesn’t love Kenma. Not in the way Kenma loves him, at least.

Pursuing it probably isn’t worth the risk.

His phone pings then, and Kenma rolls onto his side to reach out for it. He frowns as he reads a reminder from Kuroo telling him to do his homework.

Oh yeah. He still needs to do the stupid assignment.

It would make sense that now that he’s figured out he’s in love, Kenma wouldn’t have any issue with it anymore. However, as his many attempts from yesterday to do just that prove, this is not the case. Kenma had stared at the paper in front of him for hours, completely unable to come up with the words to describe the feelings in his chest.

He figures he owes several apologies to the writers he’d been critiquing before. 

But it’s hard! His love for Kuroo isn’t something that just came out of nowhere. It’s been there for a while. How can he describe something so innate to how he feels on a day to day basis. It’s just...love. It’s always there.

Unfortunately he can’t write ‘love is just love’ for this paper, so he’s been stuck for a full day now. Well, even more stuck than he was before. 

Then it crosses his mind. Of all the people he’s asked, he hasn’t asked Kuroo what his take on love is. His heart skips at the thought, and Kenma has to resist the urge to scrunch his nose at his own reaction. 

But he also can’t help it. His mind is still stuck on the possibility that maybe Kuroo could feel the same way. If Kenma had been too dumb to realize his feelings, it’s completely possible the same was true for his idiot best friend.  

Besides, Kuroo’s the one who said love was different for everyone. He wouldn’t know that unless he had his own ideas about love too.

Mind set, he tapped out a quick message to Kuroo asking for help with his homework. Just a few seconds later, his phone was buzzing with a reply.

17:03

be there in five

Even though there’s no one around to see, Kenma buries his head in his pillow to conceal the smile he felt rising on his face. He is never going to forgive himself for not realizing this sooner. He should use this the next time Kuroo refers to him as the brain of anything. 

If he ever gets the courage to tell him. If Kuroo wants to be friends after that.

Kenma’s heart stills and then he shakes his head at the thought. He doesn’t need to worry about that. He’s not telling Kuroo anything. He’s just...getting a read on the situation. 

He hears his front door open, and he swallows. A very immediate read on the situation. 

He sits up in his bed, legs crossed in front of him and pillow still held to his chest by the time Kuroo enters his room. He has his bag slung over his shoulder, and is smiling until he registers Kenma’s location.

“I thought you needed help with homework,” he says as he makes his way to the center of the room before carelessly dropping his bag. Kenma shoots him a flat look at the loud thunk it makes, and Kuroo just shrugs.

“I do need help with homework,” Kenma replies carefully. He’s stalling, he knows, but this is harder than he thought it would be, and he hadn’t really planned on having Kuroo stare down at him while he asks him about his personal thoughts on love. 

“You shouldn’t do homework on your bed Kenma, we’ve talked about this.” Kenma rolls his eyes at the lecturing tone in Kuroo’s voice, but he does dutifully get up from his bed as Kuroo pulls his desk chair out. This at least means he has an excuse not to look at Kuroo. Kuroo continues, “Your brain associates your bed with sleep, not work, so you won’t be able to give it your best if you try doing homework from there.”

“Okay, Kuro I’m already sitting.” Kenma sighs as he pulls his assignment out, but the end of his lips to quirk up. Being around Kuroo and his dorky nature makes it difficult to stay nervous. He hears more than sees Kuroo move back to his spot on the floor, and he resisted the urge to turn and steal a look at him.

“So what’s up?” Kuroo asks, the sound of rustling paper signaling that he’s about to work on his own homework. Kenma clicks the pencil in his hands a few times before he let out a steadying breath.

He can do this. It’s probably normal to ask your best friend how they feel about love. 

“This assignment is still giving me trouble. The love one, I mean,” Kenma says slowly, eyes trained resolutely on his paper. “So I was wondering if I can ask you a question?”

He expects an immediate reply, a teasing remark or enthusiastic yes, from Kuroo. What he isn’t prepared for is the moment of silence that meets him. His grip tightens on his pencil, and he wonders if Kuroo can tell. If Kenma hesitated for too long, or has been too obvious or something has happened and Kuroo has realized that Kenma’s in love with him.

He feels like his heart is about to leap out of his throat.

“Yeah, no problem.” 

Kenma exhales quietly, but shakily as Kuroo speaks. He’s too grateful that he broke the silence that he doesn’t even catch the hesitation lingering in Kuroo’s voice. 

Kenma absentmindedly scribbles on his paper, trying to do something with his nervous energy and praying his voice sounds steady as he says, “So I’ve asked a couple of people this, but I was wondering...what being in love means to you?”

“Like I said before, I think it varies person to person - ”

“That’s not what I mean,” Kenma interrupts, frowning at Kuroo’s answer. It sounds stiff and rehearsed, and he can’t help but feel confused by Kuroo’s strange behavior. “I mean for you, personally, what does being in love mean?”

This time the silence that follows feels never ending. Kenma drags his pencil on his paper up and down over and over again until the mark left behind is so dark it rivals the roots of his hair. He doesn’t want to look back at Kuroo, both because he doesn’t want to pressure him, but also because he doesn’t want to show how eager he is for an answer; how restless the silence is making him.

The clock on his desk changes time for the fourth time, and Kenma really can’t help himself anymore. He turns back, slowly at first, but then swivels his entire chair around when he realizes he can’t catch sight of Kuroo without doing exactly that.

But when he looks at Kuroo, he’s not even looking at Kenma. He’s looking at the ceiling with a look so fond Kenma’s heart skips so loudly in his chest that the sound pounds in his ears.

He’s never seen Kuroo look so fond in his life. 

“For me,” Kuroo says, his voice soft not in its volume, but in its tone, “For me, being in love is being at home with someone. Not like the place, but like my heart feels at home with them. I feel settled around them, I guess. There are a lot of things I’m stressed about, and a constant stream of thoughts going through my mind, but when I’m with them it all calms down.”

Kuroo laughs softly then, and his eyes trace over the room. They never settle on anything, but Kenma wishes they would so he could have some idea of what was going through Kuroo’s mind. His eyes continue their path until they finally land on Kenma, and he feels his entire body freeze. He doubts his heart is even beating at this point. 

Kuroo opens and closes his mouth three times before he gives a helpless sounding huff.  “To me, being in love is somehow feeling like I’m the best version of myself around someone, but also wanting to keep being better for them.”

Kenma feels his throat tighten again, this time not because his heart is erratic with nerves, but because what Kuroo says is exactly how he feels. 

He has always felt best with Kuroo by his side. People make him nervous, and self-conscious, and unsure, but he’s never been more okay with being himself when Kuroo was with him.

But he also wants to be better for Kuroo. Better in ways he hasn’t been able to figure out yet because Kuroo never makes him feel lacking, but he knows there’s so much more he can do for him. 

Guess that should have clued him in about being in love as well. 

Kenma opens his mouth, but his mouth feels dry. He tries swallowing a few times, but the words still come out rough when he asks, “Do you think you’d know if you felt like that?”

Because he needs to know this now. He can’t hear Kuroo perfectly word the array of feelings that have taken home in Kenma’s chest and not know. 

But Kuroo barely gives him a moment to think about it. He laughs, the sounds harsh against Kenma’s ears and says, “I think it’d be impossible not to.”

Kenma wants to point out that it’s not impossible. That Kenma has gone for a very long time not knowing he felt that way. That for so long he had no clue that the feelings in his chest were love instead of whatever excuse Kenma used to explain them away.

He wants to say all of this, except it’s abundantly clear that Kuroo knows what love is supposed to feel like. He knows and he would never miss it, and Kenma feels as if his heart is being crushed because then there’s no way he would ever return his feelings.

The only chance Kenma has for Kuroo reciprocating anything is if he had just been like Kenma. Because Kuroo has never acted in love with Kenma before. He has treated Kenma the same for as long as he could remember, growing more social and outgoing with other people, but never treating Kenma any different. There’s been no awkward confessions, no flustered behavior between them. 

Just their friendship, the same as always. 

And maybe if Kuroo had been on the brink of an epiphany, then things would be different. Kuroo could realize his feelings for Kenma, and then tell Kenma about his feelings because he knows Kuroo wouldn’t be able to keep it to himself, and then…

Well, it doesn’t matter now. Kuroo doesn’t feel the same. Kenma knew that already, but he’d stupidly gotten his hopes up and now has to deal with that. 

“Thanks,” Kenma says, unable to help the way the word falls flat. He’s lucky he was able to say it at all. 

“...No problem.” Kuroo seems to deflate a little. Kenma eyes him, but Kuroo just goes back to his homework without another word.

Kenma turns to his paper and stares at the blank page. He might as well just pull out another assignment. He knows he won’t be making any progress with this tonight. 

-

God, Kenma wishes he hadn’t been so dramatic the night before. 

No, he hadn’t particularly felt like writing about love after having it confirmed that his feelings weren’t returned, but now it’s the day before he has to turn into the stupid assignment and he has a grand total of: nothing. He’s even skipped practice to try finishing it, and he still has nothing to show for it.

He stares blankly at the paper and wonders if he can get away with stealing Kuroo’s words. Would that be too obvious? It would certainly be too embarrassing. But Kuroo had made it sound so relatable - and particularly poetic.

Who else does he know that can make love sound like that?

Kenma blinks. Oh. He’s been a huge idiot twice now. Maybe he’s having an off week.

Whatever the case, he grabs his phone and dials one of the first names on his contact list. 

The call is answered on the second ring. “Kozume-san?”

“Akaashi, I don’t know how many times I need to tell you to just call me Kenma,” Kenma replies, happy the other setter answered but knowing that probably wasn’t the best way to start the conversation. The sound of Akaashi clicking his tongue at him only makes him more certain. 

“If that was all you wanted,” Akaashi trails off, and Kenma rolls his eyes at him.

“No, no, I’m...I’m actually calling because I need some help. With an assignment.” Kenma twiddles his pencil around as he speaks, hating the way he’s blushing even if there is no one around to see him.

How many people is he going to have to tell about this cursed assignment?

“Doesn’t Kuroo-san usually help you with these kinds of things?” Akaashi asks bluntly, but not unkindly. He sounds more curious than anything else, and maybe a touch concerned.

Kenma bites his lip, trying to come up with the best way to phrase his response. “I tried asking Kuroo already, and it’s not that he wasn’t helpful...I just think you might be better suited.”

He’s better suited because he’s a nerd who actually likes literature and English, but Kenma doesn’t bring this up.

(He also doesn’t point out he’s better suited since Kuroo’s answer still stings when he thinks about it too much, but Akaashi doesn’t need to know that anyway.)

“I suppose I can try.” Akaashi sighs, and Kenma hears what he assumes are the sounds of Akaashi getting settled.

“Well, the part of the assignment I’m stuck on is where we’re meant to describe how we think being in love should be portrayed in literature,” Kenma says, a bit surprised by how easily the words come. Maybe saying something enough times lessens how awkward it feels to say it.

“I’m not sure this is my area of forte.” Kenma rolls his eyes, wishing Akaashi could see it over the phone. Akaashi talks like this in regular conversation, he should have no issue with helping Kenma with his stupid assignment.

“That’s bullshit.” Akaashi makes an offended noise, but Kenma continues past it. “You once compared Bokuto to a star completely unprompted.” Akaashi makes a choking sound, and Kenma ignores it. “You’ll definitely be able to help me find the words to describe how being in love feels like.”

Akaashi clears his throat a few times. “That’s not what I mean.” His voice back to being carefully composed. “What I mean is what works for me isn’t necessarily what will work for you.”

Kenma narrows his eyes. “Are you calling me dumb?”

“No, but I might start to if you don’t let me finish.” Akaashi sounds increasingly more annoyed, so Kenma just purses his lips. “I’m saying you shouldn’t be trying to get your ideas about love in someone else’s words. You should be describing it in your own way.”

“Oh my god, why is everyone saying this to me?” Kenma groans, frustration over the assignment finally mounting. “Kuro went on and on about how love is different for everyone, and that does nothing to help me finish this.”

There’s a pause, and then Akaashi speaks in a knowing tone that worries Kenma. “What all exactly did Kuroo say when you asked him for help?”

“Um, lots of things.” Kenma doesn’t trust Akaashi enough to tell him about the conversation. He’s one of his closest friends, but Akaashi is probably so lovesick he has a sixth sense for these things now. If Kenma tells him about his conversation with Kuroo from the night before, Akaashi’s going to know immediately how gone Kenma is for his best friend. “I’ve got to go work on the assignment you couldn’t help me with, bye.”

He hears Akaashi begin to say something, but he hangs up before he can finish. He refuses to think about how incriminating it is that he cut the conversation off so quickly. 

He glares down at his paper, and then deflates as he admits defeat. He’s not going to be able to come up with anything. Whatever. It’s one assignment, and Kuroo will help him study for exams anyway. 

Kenma pauses. 

He looks down at his paper, and writes down a single bullet point:

• Love is what happens when someone helps you study for exams.

It’s strange, and probably a little too specific, but it does give him an idea. Maybe he can start like this. He can write all the things Kuoo does for him - things like bringing him a charm and a controller when he’s feeling down, things that added up and made Kenma realize he’s in with him. 

He sits up more properly at his desk, and begins to write. And write. And write.

Soon he has a list that encompasses half the length of the paper. He looks it over and rereads all the things on the list. The actions vary from never pushing Kenma past his boundaries, to always having just enough spare change on him for a hot chocolate. He looks and he smiles as he thinks back on the memories the list spark in Kenma.

Even if Kuroo isn’t in love with him, it’s the fact that he did these things at all that made Kenma fall for him.

Kenma furrows his brows. Well no, that isn’t quite right either. He loves all these things Kuroo does for him, but that’s not the reason he loves him. Him helping Kenma with homework or pulling him to the side when he’s overwhelmed in a crowd aren’t the reasons why he fell for him. Rather, it’s because he's the kind of person who would do those things in the first place. 

It’s who he is that made Kenma fall in love. It’s everything else that has just kept Kenma in love.

And then Kenma is writing even more. He writes about the type of leader Kuroo is. How he can inspire the team to look up to him without ever talking down to them. He writes about how Kuroo is able to admit when he’s wrong, and is never too prideful to apologize. He talks about how attentive he is. How he always keeps everyone in careful consideration, whether that be Kenma and his anxieties or his teammates and their insecurities.

Kenma writes more than he ever has for any assignment. He wouldn’t say he’s swept up in the assignment, but rather that every time he finishes one thought about Kuroo, another one pops into his head. 

He writes so much he doesn’t notice when Kuroo waltzes into his room like he does practically every evening. 

“So you did actually skip practice to work on your homework.”

Kenma jolts at the sound of Kuroo’s voice coming from directly behind him, and immediately covers his paper.

It’s definitely the wrong move.

“Oho, what’s this?” Kuroo asks, coming around his desk chair to try and get a peek at his paper. “I was interested in what had captured all your focus before, but now that interest has reached a whole new level.”

“No, Kuro,” Kenma says, trying and failing to come up with a reason for Kuroo to just let this drop. “Stop it - just, just go away.”

Kuroo peaks around his shoulder, and Kenma hunches himself over the paper even more. Kuroo laughs in response. “Come one, at least tell me what it is!”

“Absolutely not!” Kenma snaps, turning to glare at Kuroo, and narrowing his eyes even further as Kuroo’s eyes glint mischievously.

“Kenma, everything you’re saying makes me want to see whatever it is even more, you know I won’t let this go.” Kuroo smirks at him, confident and smug, but Kenma knows that if he gives him a single solid reason Kuroo will back off. He’ll tease Kenma relentlessly sure, but he’ll stop pestering him about it. 

He’s pretty sure he wrote that word for word on the paper too. 

Distracted by his thoughts, he doesn’t notice when Kuroo leans around his other side until he says, “Oh, it’s for the love assignment?”

Kenma freezes, his eyes going wide and his grip going lax, and Kuroo takes the opportunity to swipe the paper from him.

Kenma feels his heart begin to race, begin to sprint, begin to practically hurdle over itself as Kuroo leans away with the paper in hand. Kenma spins his chair almost violently to keep Kuroo in his gaze, and when the chair settles, Kuroo is leaning against his bed with the paper pulled to his face. He’s not reading it, just looking over the paper at Kenma with a grin.

“Honestly, I don’t know why you’re making a big deal about it,” Kuroo says before his eyes finally drop to the paper. Kenma’s breath seizes in his chest. “I know talking about romance isn’t your favorite thing, but it’s just an assignment…”

Kuroo trails off, and his brow furrows and Kenma kind of wants to shout at him to stop reading. Because he never uses Kuroo’s name anywhere in the list. There’s nothing there that explicitly says he’s talking about Kuroo.

But it’s obvious. It’s so obvious. 

Who else has taken care of him when he’s gotten so sick his vision started to blur, or would buy him apple turnovers from the 7/11, or is comfortable to be with even in complete silence, or never asks Kenma to change, only encourages him to grow.

There’s no one else he could possibly be talking about.

So he wants to shout. Wants to rip the paper from Kuroo’s grasp and maybe kick him for taking it from him in the first place. Wants to burn it so there isn't evidence it ever even existed, and then pretend like he’d never written it in the first place. 

Except...after writing everything down, there’s a part of Kenma that wants Kuroo to know. Wants him to see that Kenma sees everything he does for him. Wants him to know he remembers it all. Wants Kuroo to know that he’s loved, because the least Kenma can do after everything Kuroo has ever done for him is make sure he knows how loved he is both for it and despite it.

So he stays frozen, caught between wanting to keep his feelings private and wanting to thank Kuroo in this terrifyingly vulnerable way when Kuroo’s entire body freezes. Kenma isn’t sure what he’s read, doesn’t know what point gave it away. But Kuroo’s eyes aren’t moving anymore, and he really doesn’t seem to be breathing, and Kenma isn't sure what to do .

Then Kuroo clears his throat once, then twice, before he says, “Love is seeing a rundown volleyball net on an old, dirt field, but feeling happy because of the memories you made there and the person that is a part of those memories.”

Kenma blushes even harder than he already has and just stares back, because what is he even supposed to say? There’s no way to twist the words. It’s clearly about Kuroo.

Kuroo glances down at the paper again, and then he does a double take, reaching up to pull the paper even closer to his face. Kenma’s shoulders slump because what else could there possibly be on there that’s more shocking than what Kuroo’s already read?

And then Kuroo’s speaking again, his voice rough and shaky. “You love this person not because there’s a reason to love them. The reasons can come and go. You love them because they managed to squeeze their way into your heart, and you make the choice to let them stay.”

Kenma’s breath catches. That’s the part he’d just finished when Kuroo had walked into the room. Kuroo still has the paper pulled up to his face like some old man who’s lost his reading glasses, and Kenma can’t see his face or figure out how Kuroo’s feeling.

He knows how he himself is feeling. The dread that’s been steadily rising in his chest is impossible to ignore.

“Kenma…” Kuroo finally says, and he sounds breathless. “This sounds like...you can’t be…”

Kenma scrunches his nose. Of all the reactions he’d been prepared for, Kuroo telling him his feelings weren’t possible wasn’t one of them. He looks defiantly at Kuroo even if he still can’t see his eyes. “What does that even mean, ‘I can’t be?’ You’re the one who said love works differently for everyone. Well this,” and he gestures in front of him, unsure if he’s talking about the paper or the Kuroo. “This is how it works for me.”

He’s proud of himself for not stuttering or shaking, but the brave face can only last so long. Kenma feels like he’s on the verge of tears.

Kuroo finally lowers the paper from his eyes to look urgently at Kenma. “That’s not what I,” Kuroo starts before he cuts himself off. He takes a deep breath and smoothes the wrinkles he left on the paper. “First of all, I’m sorry for being an ass and taking this from you. I was just curious, and then that got even worse when I saw it was for your love assignment - which I hate by the way.”

Kenma blinks rapidly at Kuroo in confusion, both because of his words and the direction he was taking the conversion. “Why would you hate it? It’s my assignment? You didn’t have to do shit.”

Kuroo hums in response, eyes trained on his shoes. “Yeah, well seeing you so stumped by it made it pretty clear to me that you had no feelings for me at all even though I’ve been in love with you for years.”

Kenma feels as if his heart, his mind, his soul all flicker at once, shutting down for a split second before bursting back to life. His lips part at Kuroo’s words, somehow barely processing them but also repeating them over and over again in his head like an echo. Seemingly blind to Kenma, Kuroo continues.

“Then you kept asking people,” Kuroo says with a humourless laugh. “I don’t think you understand how much shit I had to deal with from the team because I have no subtlety at all and they’ve known about how I’ve felt for about as long as I have.”

“It ended up being all I could think about since it kept coming up.” Kuroo finally looks up at him, and Kenma inhales sharply at the look on his face. It’s the exact same fond look from the night before. “And when you asked me what I thought about love, I almost confessed.”

He stands properly then, no longer leaning back against Kenma’s bed but instead taking a few tentative steps towards him. “I almost told you that I’ve been in love with you since my first year of high school when I found you asleep by the gym, waiting for me to finish up practice just so we could walk home together - even though the middle school got out early and you could’ve just gone home.”

Kenma doesn’t feel like crying anymore, but a pressure similar to the one crying causes is starting to build his chest. He feels overwhelmed in a way he’d never been by Kuroo before, but he doesn’t want it to stop.  

“But then I looked over at you, and you were so tense, and I didn’t know why exactly, but I figured the last thing you needed was me springing all that on you.” Kuroo stops a couple of inches from Kenma now, and Kenma wants to reach out to him but the tension in the room keeps him still. Kuroo brings up the paper again and breathes heavily as he scans it over again. “But now this…”

“I was tense because I realized I was in love with you when you brought me the controller and the stupid Punchy charm and I wanted you to be in love with me too,” Kenma says all in one breath. Kuroo looks at him stunned, and Kenma clenches his fists at his sides. “I wanted you to be, but I wasn’t sure, and I was so nervous…”

Kuroo reaches out hesitantly before wrapping his hand around Kenma’s wrist and gently pulling him closer to him. “We’re so dumb,” he says softly.

Kenma tilts his head up to look up at him with a glare he knows lacks any heat. “No, you’re dumb. You should've just confessed ages ago and cleared things up for me more quickly.”

“What?” Kuroo asks with a laugh and the dumbest, happiest smile Kenma has ever seen on his face. “If anything you’re dumb for having your epiphany over a Punchy charm. I do nice things for you all the time, why did it just click then?”

“It’s not my fault being in love with you feels so normal,” Kenma snaps back, and the jovial expression on Kuroo’s face fades into something more careful as he stares down at him. Kenma huffs, and averts his eyes as he says, “Being in love with you came so naturally I didn’t even notice it happening. It just did and it took me being forced to think about what being in love even meant to realize that it was what I felt for you.”

The blush on Kenma’s face is burning hotter on his face than he’s ever felt in his entire life, but the hand gently tilting his chin up distracts him from it before he can think too much of it. 

“Can I kiss you?” Kuroo asks, leaning down enough that their breaths begin to mingle. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for the past 15 minutes now, and at this point I’m on the verge of dying.”

“Please,” is all Kenma manages to get out before Kuroo is pressing their lips together. Kenma squeezes his fist around the front of Kuroo’s shirt, and immediately follows Kuroo’s mouth when he tries to pull away.

They’ve both been waiting for this for a long time. They’re allowed to savour the moment.

-

That night, they stay up late fixing up Kenma’s assignment, and a week later he gets it back with a 98 on the upper right-hand corner.