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When they told Kuroo that love runs deep, he laughed it off as nonsense, as if even in a million years, it would never occur for him to love anyone in a similar way that he witnessed in his companions.
"Love is for the weak!" His naive and denial self once declared at the empty halls of the gym.
"W-Well it is totally not! Look at me! I am strong because 'Kaashi is at my side!" Bokuto argued, pointing at the setter besides him before crossing his arms like a little boy in a pout.
Kuroo crossed his arm as well, mimicking the gesture as he begrudgingly wanted to disagree but his best friend was too precious to dagger by words. "Love is not for me, I guess? It's good that you have Akaashi tho, you two make a good pair."
Growing up, Kuroo had never seen one example of a healthy and admirable relationship from his environment.
Every night, his parents fought, over the top screams and the loud shatter of objects filling the house as he tried to muffle it through hiding his head in the pillows.
When he asked, "mom, why are you and dad always arguing?"
She replied that they fight because they love each other, which was one of her greatest mistakes as young Kuroo resembled love as nothing but a raging storm that could never be tamed nor leave without ruining the peace in your life until it takes all of what you could offer and the things you couldn't.
He tried to hope once that the dynamics of his parents will change– that maybe they will be one of those loving family similar to those depicted at the television and on his middle school textbooks, but those came to an end when his parents divorced. Just like that, Kuroo thought it probably was a generational curse now that would be passed to him.
It never crossed his mind once that a day would come that he would look at someone the way Bokuto gazed at Akaashi with adoration, pure gush of warm affection desired by the whole world to have.
He wanted to ignore it because he didn't want to eat his own words.
He never thought of him as such, similar to Oikawa and Iwaizumi, the high school sweethearts that even in the distance of California to Argentina have conquered love with their passion and promise driven vigor.
He never had those virtues made for love anyways.
How could Kuroo even compare himself to Kageyama and Hinata? That innocent kind of oblivious love, those which desire runs far just to grow with each other, their love that drives them both until they fulfill those declarations they vowed to fulfill in middle school.
Kuroo could never compare to them, because he had his own kind of love to live with now.
Seeing the blonde from afar the flower decorated isle—delicate and lean body embraced by a white suit as the veil peppered with little beads of pearls and striking glitters flowed in the air as he walked—it all made the tears in Kuroo's eyes worth the fall.
After years of constant self numbing, deprivation of feelings and beating himself up emotionally for showing interest at the middle blocker in a romantic light, he finally came to his senses that it was not wrong from him to love, that maybe, just maybe he wouldn't end up like his parents.
That at some point, perhaps love could be for him too…
Kei's lips turned to a tight smile, his eyes also catering the tears similar to Kuroo. Those kinds of tears that are never left swelling, those that are… as he stated, worth the fall, worth the ache after.
The first time Kuroo laid eyes on the groom, uninterested eyes meeting his devious one at the training camp, it sparked an unknown feeling within him in which he categorized as simply an urge for the middle blocker to be better and appreciate the art of volleyball through the skills and motivation he denied himself of.
He watched all of Tsukishima's games after he spent time with him at the training camp, he found himself always smiling quietly whenever he saw him push through challenges, from matches to matches, Kei improved enormously.
Then, the Karasuno and Shiratorizawa flashed before Kuroo's eyes as Kei was not more than six steps away—when Tsukishima managed to block one of Wakatoshi's spikes, it was the turning point for him.
Right, it is love.
His heart thumped as if a million soldiers were hunting him down, pointing a bullet at him in which all came to a halt when he admitted that, yes, I am very much in love with Tsukishima Kei.
It was a hard pill to swallow along with his past proclamations that he would never cross and deem to want the relationship his friends have.
And yet, the moment he stared at Kei who was a few feet away from where he stood in front of the isle, there was no hesitation, no second thoughts nor time needed because yes, yes he would give his life for him.
Tsukishima Kei was his own love to have.
Theirs was never the same as Bokuto and Akaashi, Oikawa and Iwaizumi nor Kageyama and Hinata… they were farther than that.
Kei believed he was dull, but Kuroo found him mesmerizingly bright.
A golden soul was Kei–the one who sacrificed every sleepless night to stay up in the train station to wait for his lover to come back home with him no matter how cold the night winter was.
Kei is patient, sometimes there are words he could not utter and show by actions but he slowly gets there, surprising you with his progress and form of expression.
Kei is forgiving, whenever his lover calls him that he couldn't arrive at their dinner, he reassures him before staying the night back at the apartment, eating some strawberry flavored popcorn as he reads a book with his warm cup of coffee.
There are things Kei can't admit, such as his love for sweets–affection and food wise. He can't deem to say I love you in a straightforward manner, it irks the irritation in him when he says that but maybe it wasn't because he was mad, he was shy– maybe even embarrassed.
There were times where Kei stitch his mouth close, no words falling out of his delicate lips and eyes filled with… varying emotions Kuroo couldn't tell apart.
He will cry, cry his heart out secretly and then after, he will smile. With that, Kuroo learned that after the raging storm, it was indeed… calm, a paradise of warmth.
When whispering his love, Kei had those averting eyes as he nips at his lower lip, fingers fiddling behind his back before finally saying the phrase that unavoidably crushed Kuroo's heart to pieces.
Kei was the epitome of love. The sweetest memory to have and the person you never want to ever stray away from your arms.
"Tsukishima," Kuroo let out an exasperated gasp as he was met with the intoxicating beauty in front of him.
"Kuroo-san," Kei mumbled, the quiet yet evident crack on his voice muffled by a quick sniff. He reached for Kuroo, intertwining his own arms with him as they both took slow steps forward, each lift of their foot creating a merciless haywire of wild emotions as they slowly approached the end of the aisle.
It was an overwhelming feeling.
The agonizingly sweet music was menacing to Kuroo, the constant ringing of the wedding bells were deafening along with the cheers and sobbing of the crowd. Why was it that he was running out of that warm feeling of delusion he created?
Oh, right. Kuroo forced a smile when they finally reached the end of the isle.
Kuroo wanted to run back and tag Kei along with him, to escape this antagonizing fate he had to face and bring the core of his heart with him as they face the tides of life together—which was a fantasy he didn't, and will never get to live.
Then, his pitch black irises met strong yet mellow olive ones.
Wakatoshi loved Kei openly, expressed his interest with braveness and courage and showed his love loud and clear for every people to hear. Something which Kuroo never did, but he had the chance to.
It could've been Kuroo. It was ironic. He was always the nosy and talkative one while Wakatoshi was the opposite, quiet and reserved.
All he had to do back then was to admit and confess because Kei showed interest, but doubt and fear engulfed him to the point where he felt that his lips were sewn and glued until he cannot utter a thing.
Why was he realizing all of this just now? It could've been years ago, unlike now that all he could do is walk the love of his life in the aisle.
"He is all yours, Wakatoshi. I wish both of you nothing but the best, congratulations again." Kuroo didn't want to let go of Kei, but the conscience of having repressed feelings for the groom on the day of his wedding was already eating him alive.
"Thank you," Wakatoshi gave him a genuine smile as his eyes reflected the very same happiness Kuroo longed to have.
"Tsukishima," I love you. Please, be with me instead. Kuroo handed Kei's hand to the other groom. "Always feel loved because you are, thank you for everything, really."
"Kuroo-san, thank you as well."
"Go on then, Mr. Ushijima." He ushered Kei to finally walk besides Ushijima.
Kuroo watched as Kei's back got farther and farther away from his reach, as all lights came to fade for him, the moonlight no longer reaching him.
Who was he kidding? Kuroo wasn't the one who Kei waited for late at night on a cold winter night in the train station to come home to his arms, he was the worried friend who decided to follow Kei when he found out about his plans.
He witnessed how Kei rushed towards Wakatoshi at midnight, engulfing him in the arms that Kuroo wished he could be the one wrapped around with it instead.
Kuroo wasn't the one who cancelled their plans for dinner–he was the one who called Kei if he wanted a company in which the blonde agreed. Kuroo watched in silence as Kei read his book with Ushijima's high school jacket keeping him safe.
The inviting smell of coffee and strawberry popcorn has become a bitter gourd for Kuroo, because those are comfort foods for when Kei's lover didn't come home.
And never once did Kuroo hear Kei say I love you for him. He was merely an observer, watching those bashful eyes as he third wheel for the love of his life and his partner. He always hid those jealous and pained eyes when he brushes it off as something cringe worthy.
Wakatoshi is his companion, and the man he wanted to exchange lives in order to spend his life with Kei.
"Today, we all will witness the unity of two amazing people—Tsukishima Kei and Ushijima Wakatoshi, as their love has made them reach this far and will continue to do so."
Kuroo gazed at them, noises of his surrounding blurring little by little as the obvious tightness in the couple's interlocked fingers because of their overwhelming joy became a hurdle to the beating of Kuroo's heart.
It all narrowed down to the words Kuroo didn't want to hear yet have to.
"Do you, Ushijima Wakatoshi, take Tsukishima Kei as your lawfully wedded husband, for better and for worse, in sickness and in health, and until death do you apart?"
In Kuroo's own head space, he heard his name instead, muttering a quiet "I do," as he imagined the scenario all over again in which there, he stood as the groom next to Tsukishima Kei.
"I do." Ushijima squeezed Kei's hand, chest rising heavily as he held his breath, waiting upon his groom's answer.
"Do you, Tsukishima Kei, take Ushijima Wakatoshi as your lawfully wedded husband, for better and for worse, in sickness and in health, and until death do you apart?"
Maybe in a universe when it could have been him... Kuroo wished, he could only wish.
"I do," Kei answered with contentment as Kuroo completely shattered.
The very same warm voice embedded with the gentlest and finest tone as if it could never harm you, bestowed Kuroo with a permanent scar he knew he would carry for centuries and life times.
"With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may now kiss the groom," the priest smiled from ear to ear.
Ushijima lifted the veil then held Kei's face with utter care, eyes overflowing with love as he wiped the tears on the cheeks of the blonde. Kei chimed a giggle as he inched his face closer to his husband.
The moment their lips met in the middle, melting in each other's warmth, Kuroo almost thought his knees would give out as he wallowed in self loath.
His eyes were wide open—the tears he forced not to fall finally lowered their defense as they came streaming on his cheeks without the sign of halting anytime soon. He bowed his head, hiding the face he considered was a shame, a lost cost now.
Kuroo wanted to laugh at his own idiocy, at his own delusion because at one point in life, he believed that he had certainty to be the one that Kei will marry.
All those lingering stares they shared, those meaningful gestures as they stayed up with each other under the stars talking about love in general. Those are the signs that Kei gave to him and yet, yet he failed to make use of them.
He distanced himself–moving town after town with an excuse to find where he was really meant to be. Kuroo ignored the constant reminder that Kei was waiting for him, that Kei genuinely wanted to be with him–he was patient for almost four years, until Kuroo was ready, but Kei was now the one contemplating.
Akaashi warned him then, that Kei had come running to him, asking about Kuroo and if he would really come back because what they had stood a chance–he warned Kuroo to find his own way quicker because Kei will stray away, be caught by the winds of time until he will be completely out of his grasp.
He shrugged it off, believing that no matter how much he puts Kei through, he will always stay there because he lovesKuroo. Kei is patient, Kei is forgiving, Kei is love, until he had enough.
"Kuroo-san… I tried, I really did, believe me, please… but it was suffocating me– the constant thought that what if, what if I was waiting for nobody at all? I just, I loved you so much it cost me every single part of myself until, until I was this– empty, alone and full of doubt and I just– I'm sorry, please…"
"Hey," Kuroo called, lifting Tsukishima's chin. His eyes were scratched red, those tears made of pain and years of bottled up suffering finally gushing down. "Don't beat yourself up… for the record, I do love you, Tsukki. I just wasn't brave enough, but you? You're strong, very courageous, you did great, moonshine."
Kuroo embraced Kei, as tight as he could because now, this was probably the last time he would be able to do this.
He wrapped his arms around him, those same arms that wanted to reach out to Kei but never did. Kuroo placed his chin atop Kei's own which was buried in his chest, resting his eyes shed their own grief.
Kuroo kissed the muse of what he feared, the embodiment of his love—of what could've been his, but never was.
"Find someone who can…" treat you the way I never did, the way you deserved. "...ease your heart and do the things I failed to give you."
They could've made it, but Kuroo being the best man instead of the groom said a lot.
It was Kuroo's fault after all, he was the one who solely is to blame. Who was he to mourn for a loss he willingly gave?
He lifted his face once again, tear streaked eyes reaching out at the newly wed couple while Ushijima lifted up Kei, kissing the tip of his nose as he giggled and then waved the bouquet with the most blinding glow Kuroo had ever witnessed.
Now, it crossed his mind that if Kei was to wed with him, those eyes wouldn't shine as much nor would those lips ache from all the unconscious smiles, giggles and laughs that chimes with enticing melody because a train wreck like him, was never worth to be under the presence of an angel such as Kei.
Kuroo chuckled as another one of his conclusions struck him. Now, he knew that a stray will never be enough to stand by the moon–a stray like him was meant to admire from the ground, gaze at the sky to witness its solemn yet contrasting vibrant beauty.
They told me I could never survive without love, I laughed at them. Now, I slowly am eroding with the fact that I am barely surviving because I did not listen.
Kuroo and Kei were nothing like the vigorous and patient love Iwaizumi and Oikawa have. They were nothing like the soft caress and affectionate gazes such as Bokuto and Akaashi nor the challenging and passionate fire between Kageyama and Hinata.
It was nothing of those love, as it ended unrequited, a goddamn cruel tale of cowardly and fear induced lost boy who once admired the moon with love, and will continue to do so.
Tsukishima Kei was not the love Kuroo Tetsurou was meant to have.
It burned, yet Kuroo chose to live with a scar rather than forget the man who showed him love.