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Kuroo always thought the way you and Kenma interacted was interesting.
He refrained from using ‘weird’--scared that it would come off as harsh and paint you two as alienated and make you feel disconnected from others due to your nontraditional dynamics. That certainly wasn’t the case--you and Kenma weren’t weird, just different, interesting, and so on and so on.
Kuroo liked to observe. It’s what he did. Especially when it came to his two closest friends.
Kenma met you in your first years of high school, where you two were in the same class. Contrary to popular belief (“popular belief” being the conclusions drawn by the others on the volleyball team who were close enough to observe the way you three interacted), you did not grow up with him and Kuroo, and at the beginning you and Kuroo were completely separate beings--completely separate types of a friend for Kenma.
So, the ravenette hadn’t known about you until well into the break between Kenma’s first and second year. Kuroo always had an inkling of a suspicion that there was someone else, someone different that was just as familiar with Kenma as he was (maybe even more so), but he never pushed the topic too much, scared to push Kenma too far and make him shut himself out due to Kuroo’s constant pestering.
Kuroo knew you were different when Kenma took the initiative to let you two meet. He was enthusiastic, even. It was an emotion he rarely saw on the younger teen’s face, only peeking through his calm facade when he was playing a particularly engaging game.
Kenma had made plans (something that was a really big tell in how close you were to him) in order to properly introduce you to his childhood friend. And Kuroo watched you stumble into a cafe, scanning the room with your eyes briefly before locking onto the two of them in a booth and breaking out into a light, airy smile.
(He soon realized why Kenma wanted to sit across from him rather than next to him like he usually did when hanging out in groups. You took the adjacent seat rather quickly, and comfortably, something that Kuroo knew was a familiar action to you just by the way you and Kenma sat only millimeters apart.)
From that day on, Kenma began to involve you in his plans with Kuroo more often. Of course, the two boys still had their own alloted time for themselves but Kuroo became familiar with hearing words of “Maybe we should invite [Name].” or “[Name] probably wants to go there, too.” whenever he suggested going somewhere with the boy.
He couldn’t find it in himself to get frustrated or annoyed with you for taking time away from his and Kenma’s “guy time” --he wasn’t that childish. If anything, he appreciated you--as a person, as a friend, and especially as a friend of Kenma’s.
The latter, mainly because of just how purely comfortable you made Kenma.
Kuroo never saw Kenma act so soft as when he was with you. The descriptor was laughable--but accurate. Kenma was so relaxed and languid in your presence. It was especially strange to see how low his guard was in crowds--a side of Kenma so foreign to Kuroo, because no matter how many years Kenma spent being forced to open up (in a good way, of course) by Kuroo, crowds and cramped public spaces would always sent him in a frenzy of looklooklookanalyzeanalyzeanalzyefocusfocusfocus , and Kuroo had to slowly become familiar with methods to calm his friend down.
(It’s safe to say crowded areas weren’t really visited very often anymore, and hang-outs were naturally restricted to one of their homes or malls unnaturally early, when it was the emptiest.)
But visits to the malls on weekend afternoons became frequent as soon as you were added to their equation. Kuroo watched you and Kenma walk into packed merchandise stores, fluttering about excitedly (the excitement was mainly on your part) and pointing out things of interest, hand-in-hand.
That was another thing. Hand-in-hand. It was kind of funny.
It was another aspect of yours and Kenma’s dynamic Kuroo found different but good. It was another detail of how comfortable the half-blonde boy was with you. More often than not Kuroo had caught the two of you touching each other in some way--intimate, but not sexual, of course. It wasn’t strange to see you two holding hands under the table in a diner or sitting particularly close to each other on the train or, more rarely, caught in each other’s embrace--which Kenma didn't hesitate to reciprocate .
He once teased Kenma about it (with no real malice because, again, he really couldn't find it in himself to be genuinely annoyed with how comfortable you made his friend even in typically un comfortable situations), with a friendly jeering “how come you never hold my hand?”
He didn’t expect a response any different from the typical scoff and change of topic. But Kenma was quiet. eyes shifting away from his handheld game console and locked onto the floor--a subtle indicator that he was searching for an eloquent response.
“She…” he began, trailing off before trying to pick up his train of thought once more. “She’s really… nice. She makes me feel nice.”
Kuroo found that to be a breakthrough in both the relationship between you and Kenma and Kenma himself. Not only did Kenma think of you on such a high level, but you made him feel nice- -a phrase that could be taken in many different ways but no matter what, the connotations were overwhelmingly positive.
You made Kenma feel good --in general. You made him want to go to the mall. You made him feel calm in crowded places. You made him stop the subtle, constant habit of picking at his nails when he was nervous and overwhelmed. You made him want to come to practice. You made him want to wake up early.
You made him happy. Slowly, but surely, you were making him happy, you were making him motivated, you were opening up new possibilities for Kenma, changing him in subtle, helpful ways.
Kenma was still Kenma --Kuroo knew you hadn’t purposefully changed him in drastic ways and you didn't seem to plan to, either. Kenma still acted bothered by his teammates, by practice--he was still adverse to most social interactions and still had a sarcastic bite to his words. But internally he was changing, in ways Kuroo hadn’t seen before, and in ways that maybe most people wouldn’t be able to see simply because they hadn’t known Kenma for as long as he had.
Kuroo smiled, sitting next to Kenma on the couch of the setter’s living room. It was one of those rare days where you weren’t involved in their plans--Kuroo had invited himself over and Kenma didn’t bring up your name in the middle of their hang-out, so he took it as is and just let himself relax in the presence of his younger best-friend.
Kuroo thought for a moment, eyes focusing on nothing in particular as he subconsciously tuned out the sound effects coming from Kenma’s current game in favor of the distant static in his head. Now that he thought about it, he never really thought of you as anyone more than a friend of Kenma’s, but the way you two interacted potentially insinuated that you two had something more.
He almost laughed at himself. Hand holding, hugging, all these things--and the thought never passed his mind that the two of you could be dating?
Maybe it was just that he didn’t find a need to label you two. It wasn’t his relationship in the first place. It was the bond between his two closest friends, which was still something to care about (sometimes he thought he cared about it too much--all in good spirit, though), but Kuroo really only focused on how content you and Kenma were with each other. The thought of you being each other’s significant others was certainly plausible--but not a necessary component of your relationship.
Kuroo knew this. Kuroo knew that you two could be more than friends but less than lovers. Kuroo thought you two could be soulmates. In whatever way the word could be defined.
Coming back to reality, Kuroo glanced to the side at Kenma, who was slouched over and staring intently at the screen, thumbs moving in blurs across the controller.
“Hey, Kenma.”
There was silence. Looked like he wasn’t done with the level just yet. A minute passed. A little chime of victory emitted from the console and Kenma moved onto the next level, not before uttering a “yeah?” of acknowledgement.
“You and [Name],” the ravenette began. “Are you two dating?”
Kuroo watched as his friend froze at the straightforward nature of the question. His character died and he huffed out a short sigh of frustration as he restarted the level.
Kuroo forced himself to remain silent and let Kenma gather his thoughts for a minute. As expected, the boy eventually spoke up with a response. (Kuroo found familiarity in this interaction, like the last one he’d had with Kenma about you. He laughed a little to himself at how the situation just seemed to constantly come full circle.)
“No.” He responded bluntly, then. “We’re not.”
That last addition seemed significant--he could’ve left it at a one-word response like he normally might, but he added a clarification even though it wasn’t really needed. Call Kuroo an over-analyzer, but he knew how to read his friend. You’d hope he did, after all these years.
Kenma’s tone was not flat, Kuroo knew, mainly from body language rather than the actual sound of his voice. His eyes shifted from the screen, to the floor, to the arm of the sofa, and back to Kuroo.
The two friends sat in silence, watching each other. Kuroo didn’t know what he was searching for in Kenma’s gaze, and he didn’t know what Kenma was searching for, either. Maybe he wasn’t looking at him with a purpose, maybe just absentmindedly--or as an unspoken affirmation of all the thoughts and possibilities running through Kuroo’s conscious mind.
Moments passed, and Kuroo huffed out a laugh of amusement, starling and confusing his friend.
“Maybe… tell her.”
There was no need for elaboration. Kenma didn't question him, and even as he turned back to his game Kuroo knew he understood entirely what he meant by that.
That night, as Kuroo made the short walk back home, he found himself opening up his texts and finding your name, deciding to ask a simple question. Maybe he was nosy. Maybe he was curious. Maybe he wanted a confirmation for the thoughts and potential outcomes swirling through his head.
Do you love him?
He received a response in seconds.
‘Love’ is a bit of a strong word. But yeah. I do.
He refrained from responding, viewing the three moving dots on the left side of the screen until they were replaced with a rather lengthy message.
I know how he is. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going to hurt him or pressure him or do anything to rush him into something like this. I’m his friend before anything else.
Kuroo found himself smiling yet again. You really did know Kenma. So well. Scarily well. That was good, though. You were good.
And Kuroo knew that everything was fine, when weeks passed and he saw that you two still held hands. Still sat close on the trail. Still hugged and still went to malls and cafes, the three of you.
He knew that things were even better than fine when he saw you in the stands at one of their games, right near the front, waving to a certain setter and calling his name with sheer, unadulterated excitement seeping through your pores and lighting up your eyes.
He especially knew that things were great when a smile--a true, wide smile found itself creeping up across Kenma’s face.