Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The sound of his footsteps thudding against the soiled floor of the forest is beating heavily in his ear. Kenma’s breath comes out in pants, oxygen burning his lungs as he continues running forward, occasionally whipping his head back to see if he has created any distance between him and the man. 

His mother’s warning about strangers had ran through his head the moment he spotted the man. Kenma took off in a sprint when he noticed him lurking behind the trees, watching him, but not approaching. He’s sure he has been running for ages already, the feeling of lead-legs and sweat beading around his hairline a sure sign that he has been running for a long time. Yet, everytime he thinks he has created enough distance between them, he ends up in his original spot by the rocks. The person still stands half hidden behind the trees each time Kenma runs through. 

It was during his third lap of running past his original spot that the man told him running was futile and that Kenma was only tiring himself out. That makes Kenma run faster. He knows that he has been running in circles and had half accepted the man’s words as well, but that didn’t stop him from running. Kenma thinks that he would rather die with a low HP bar like the characters in his games, rather than say he didn’t try. 

He runs for another while, perhaps two to three more rounds before he finally drops to the ground in exhaustion, watching his chest heave up and down across the crowns of trees. He lets his head roll to the side with his mouth wide open to take in gulps of air, when a pair of geta-clad feet entered his field of vision. Kenma has half the mind to close his eyes and play dead, but he knows that his laboured breathing is a dead-giveaway. He slowly lifts his eyes up from the geta to glance at the person in front of him. 

The man ( was he really a man? ) was wearing a black yukata with thin dark-red stripes going down the entire garment. His obi belt is of the same red tied low on his hips, exposing a sliver of the man’s chest. Kenma may only be eight years old, but he knew a well built body when he saw one, and this person is well built . Though Kenma thinks the strangest thing about this person is the cat mask on his face (the second strangest thing was his weird nest of black hair). White, gold, red and black swirls come together to form the face of the cat, and the mask ends just at the tip of his nose, effectively concealing the upper half of his face. It’s a traditional Japanese mask as far as Kenma could tell, one that he would find in the stalls of summer festivals. Though unlike the festival masks, the one that the man is wearing doesn’t have any holes for his eyes. The mask’s eyes are closed and flick outwards with black ink instead, much like the way his Mum would draw on her eyes whenever she went out. Kenma briefly wonders how the man could see through the mask, before remembering his current predicament and scrambling away backwards.

The man seems to sense his fear and immediately stills, with his hands up in the air in front of him. Like this, Kenma spots a folded fan tucked securely inside the man’s obi belt. Kenma stops moving backwards as well, but he remains seated and tries to put on his most intimidating face.

“Woah, no need to have such a scary face, kid.” The man’s voice sounds teasing and not at all like someone who was threatening. Kenma doesn’t let down his guard.

“Who are you?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at the stranger. He’s grateful that his voice didn’t come out shaky, despite how nervous he feels inside.

The man in front of him laughs, loud and boisterous, though it doesn’t sound like those evil condescending laughs that villains normally do before they kill the hero. It sounds more similar to his Dad’s laugh whenever Kenma asks him a question, only to realise that it was a stupid question later on.

“Well, what if I don’t want to tell you who I am?” His voice is slightly mocking, Kenma could tell that much, but it isn’t in a bad way. The man sounds more curious and cautious than anything. 

“Then I won’t tell you who I am, either.” Kenma tucks his legs up to his chest and places his crossed arms on his knees, resting his chin on his arms whilst staring up at the man.

The man chuckles again and also takes a seat on the ground, maintaining a safe distance between them. They stare at each other in silence—well, Kenma assumes that they are; he still can’t see the man’s eyes no matter how hard he looks at the mask. 

“Since you asked me a question, do I get to ask you one too?” 

The man’s voice startles him out of his thoughts. Half of Kenma wants to remind him that he technically didn’t even answer his question properly, but he nods his head anyways. He notices the way the man’s face shifts, what little of the man’s face Kenma could see anyways, as if Kenma’s answer surprises him.

“Hmm, well then my question is: what are you doing here, like how did you end up here?” It’s a fair question, Kenma thinks, considering that they’re sitting in the middle of a mountain forest. 

“Those were two questions,” he replies instead.

“Brat,” the man mutters under his breath, but his tone is light. He doesn’t take offence to Kenma’s sass like he knows some other adults would have if he responded to their question like that. “Just pick either one to answer.”

Kenma takes a moment to consider whether he should respond with another ‘bratty’ answer or if he should be honest with the man. He looks at the man again, sitting upright with his legs crossed and hands resting on his knees, patiently waiting for Kenma’s answer and thinks that he seems harmless enough. For now, Kenma’s mind alerts him. He is still a stranger; a strange man wearing a cat mask in the middle of the forest, at that. He looks up to see the sky peeking through the treetops and guesses that it’s probably late afternoon already. He is glad that the sun sets later during this time of the year.

“I’m lost,” Kenma eventually mumbles out.

“But I’m sure my uncle is looking for me right now,” he tacks on, just to be safe. He’s sure his uncle isn’t actually looking for him right now; he’s probably still out working at the fields during this time. 

“Ahh, that explains why you’re here. Humans don’t normally wander around these parts of the forest.” The man stretches his arms out behind him and leans back on them casually.

Humans? Did Kenma hear that right?

“Does that mean you’re not a human?” Kenma has to convince himself that even if the man wasn’t human, he could have easily killed him already if he wanted to, but he hasn’t yet, so there is no reason for him to be scared. That still doesn’t stop his heartbeat from increasing.

“I suppose not.” The man’s tone is nonchalant, and Kenma can’t decide if it is a good sign or not.

“Then are you a ghost?” Kenma doesn’t know if ghosts are supposed to be see-through or not, but the man ( not really a man if he wasn’t human now, was he? ) is definitely solid like Kenma.

“Nope,” the man pops the ‘p’.

“A spirit?” 

“Nope.” The same popped ‘p’.

“Then maybe a demon?” Kenma wonders.

“Woah, hold up there, kid. Don’t you think it’s rude calling someone a demon? Didn’t your parents teach you manners?” The man didn’t sound offended, nor angry with him. 

Kenma furrows his brows and considers his words. It might be a little rude of him to call a stranger a demon, but then again, that would apply to humans, and his parents have never taught him how to interact with beings that weren’t humans. He didn’t even know that non-human beings existed before now, and he doubts his parents did too. But then again, the man could still be pulling Kenma’s leg all along and turn out to be a person with a strange hobby or something. 

“Then what are you?” Kenma asks. He doesn’t like how curious he sounds, and Kenma could tell that the man is also amused by his interest if his grin is anything to go by. 

The man leans his weight on one arm and brings his other up to his chin, stroking it in faux thought. “I guess I’m what people call a yokai . Nothing specific, but still a supernatural being. I’m sure you would have heard of us at least once, or do people not tell their youngsters tales anymore?” 

Kenma narrows his eyes at him. Of course he’s heard of yokai before. He specifically remembers his uncle warning him about how a yokai would come slithering from the forest to eat him shred by shred in his sleep if he didn’t eat his vegetables. He ate them for two months straight despite hating them at the time because of his uncle’s prank. Kenma only learned that it had been a lie when he didn’t get eaten by a yokai after not eating his vegetables at a family dinner. Now he takes whatever his uncle tells him with a pinch of salt.

“I know what a yokai is,” he retorts. He doesn’t like how the man had called him a ‘youngster’. Kenma admits that he is younger than the man by quite a bit, but he was already eight, and would be nine in a couple of months. He’s even one of the oldest boys in his class, so he was no ‘youngster’. 

“How come you don’t look like a yokai then?” Kenma asks. He knows that it’s a slightly rude thing to say, and if his Mum were here then she would have scolded him, but she isn’t here and Kenma is curious. The man also looks nothing like how folklores describe yokai .

The man laughs under his breath. “You sure are a curious one, aren’t you?” 

Kenma can’t tell if that was an insult or a compliment, so he remains silent. “I guess I’m more like a cursed child than anything, but yokai is definitely a better fitting name now.”

Kenma blinks his eyes in confusion. “You’re not a child, I’m a child. You’re more like an adult or something”.

Now it was the yokai ’s turn to look at Kenma. At least, Kenma assumes the man is looking at him. His head is facing directly at Kenma, but he isn’t saying anything. Kenma starts to panic. Did he say something wrong? Is the man not actually a man, but a child instead? Did yokai ’s age differently from humans?

The man breaks into an amused smile, and Kenma lets out a breath of relief he didn’t know he had been holding. 

“You might be right,” he agrees. “Hey, isn’t it starting to get late though? Shouldn’t you head back home?”

Kenma glances back up at the sky and sees that the other is right. The clouds have taken on shades of pink and orange, and the sky was no longer the clear blue from a while ago. The sun sure does set quickly in the countryside, Kenma thinks. 

“I want to go home, but I’m lost.” Kenma says, but he doesn’t make a move to stand up. He knows that it would be better for his uncle to search for him if he stayed in one place as well, rather than moving around. 

The man makes a sound of understanding, though Kenma isn’t sure how a yokai of the forest could understand him being lost in said forest. 

“Well I could always take you back,” the yokai suggests. Kenma looks up from where he had been focused on plucking the grass from the ground. “And stop pulling the grass like that, you’re hurting the forest”. 

Kenma looks directly into the mask’s eyes as he tugs another strand of grass from the root. He hears the yokai mumble another ‘brat’ under his breath. 

“What if I don’t want you to know where I live?” he questions defiantly.

The man stands up to dust off his yukata and then stands to wait expectantly for Kenma to do so as well. When Kenma follows suit, much to his legs dismay, the other man offers out his hand in front of Kenma. 

“How about I lead you to the bottom of the mountain and then you should be able to find your way home from there, right?” the man suggests. Kenma knows the way to his uncle’s house from the bottom of the mountain. Follow the path straight down, turn right until you see the convenience store with the big dog sitting in the front and then turn left. His uncle’s house was the second one on that street. 

Kenma nods his head, but makes no other indication of moving. 

“You have to take my hand or else you won’t be able to reach the way out,” the man says with a little less patience than before. Still, Kenma eyes the hand in front of him warily. 

“Tell me your name first,” he insists.

The man sighs loudly, which almost causes Kenma to jump backwards from the sound, before he cards a hand through his hair. “Fine, the name’s Kuro alright? Now c’mon, if you want to leave this mountain before the sun fully disappears we need to leave now.” 

Kenma nods again, and reluctantly takes the man’s hand. He finds himself pleasantly surprised when he realises that Kuro’s hand feels exactly like a normal person’s hand, warm and steady and nothing like the way he imagined a yokai ’s hand to feel like.

“Kuro.” Kenma repeats, testing the name against his tongue. He finds that he likes the sound of it.

Kuro makes a questioning sound and starts to walk at a leisurely pace. 

“Nothing, I was just seeing how your name would sound if I were to report you to the police.” Kenma says casually.

“Hey, listen here you brat.” 

There is no real threat behind Kuro’s voice, so Kenma rolls his eyes at him. 

Kenma doesn’t know which direction they’re walking in. He isn’t even sure if Kuro could see where they were walking with his mask covering his face, but the longer they walk, the more the path starts to clear up. Or perhaps he had stayed out for long enough that everything is starting to look the same to him. Kenma interrogated Kuro with an onslaught of questions ( Where do you live? How old are you? Can you see behind that mask? Why do you wear it anyways, it looks weird? Do you have magical powers?) which Kuro surprisingly answers in a stride ( I live in the forest. I’m older than you. Yes I can see and I wear it because I have to, especially around you. And I don’t have magical powers per se, but some abilities that humans might consider ‘magical’) . Kenma is about to ask him to show him some, when Kuro announces that they have arrived. True to his words, Kenma sees the tall and worn torii gate that indicated the beginning of the mountain forest. From where they are standing, Kenma could even see the outlines of the shops that are at the end of the path if he squinted. 

“See, I told you that we would make it before the sun fully sets.”

Kenma looks into the distance and sees that Kuro is right once again. The sun has set more than before, but half of it is still peeking through fields on the horizon. 

“You should show me your magical abilities,” Kenma says, turning back to face Kuro, only to earn him another snort of laughter from him.

“Yeah no, kiddo. I told you that I was going to lead you out of the forest and that’s what I did. My job here is done, there’s no need for any magic show here.” Kuro lifts a finger to point at something in the distance, and Kenma turns back around to look, only to see the same scenery of fields and small houses

“What’re you pointin-” Kenma turns back towards Kuro, annoyed that the strange man has managed to trick him, but he only sees the mountain forest behind him. Kenma whips his head around to search for Kuro. Is this another one of the yokai ’s tricks? He scans the entire area around him and sees nothing but trees and shrubs, as if Kuro had simply vanished into thin air. Kenma narrows his eyes; even he has more manners than to leave without saying goodbye. 

If Kenma had stomped the whole way down the path with a pout on his face, then nobody had to know. 

By the time he makes it back to his uncle's house, the sun has already set, and Kenma finds the older man mounting his motorcycle. 

Upon spotting him, his uncle not so gracefully stumbles out of his motorcycle to throw his arms around him. Kenma earns himself an earful for returning after the sunset, but he could tell that his uncle isn’t angry at him - well, not fully angry with him - by the way his arm remains around his shoulder as he brings him inside for the dinner his aunt had prepared.

Later that night, when his uncle and aunt were tucking him into bed, Kenma had asked them about yokai . Instead of receiving a response, his uncle had burst into loud laughter, the one that sounds the same as his dad’s, and even his aunt had hid her chuckle behind her hand. His aunt had kissed him on the forehead as she tucked the blankets higher, reassuring him that he didn’t need to worry about any yokai as they only came out if he didn't eat his vegetables. Kenma wasn’t satisfied with the answer, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to get any more answers out of them.

—

Kenma wakes up early the next day. He knows that there is only one person who is able to answer his questions about yokais , and he is willing to see if he can meet him again. 

Kenma makes sure to ask his aunt to pack an extra juice box and more snacks than usual, as he is planning on spending the day out. His aunt raises her eyebrows at him, but doesn’t comment on his request otherwise.

With his hat on his head and his Gameboy in the backpack on his back, Kenma sets out for the mountain forest by the time the clock hits 11 am. He doesn’t have a goal in mind, his entire plan being him getting lost so that he could chance seeing Kuro again. He knows that all he has to do is pass the torii gates of the mountain, and then he could wander around.

The forest looks exactly the same as yesterday, with its tall trees that stretched up towards the sky and the small shrubs lining the floor. He can hear the chatter of birds somewhere in the distance and the rustle of leaves that sound too strong - too near - to be anything but wild animals. 

He must have been wandering for an hour already, everything looks the same around him and he has no idea how far or deep into the forest he is. He manages to find a small clearing that seems safe enough for him to sit down and have some snacks at, and maybe play on his Gameboy as well. 

Today, without the fear and panic running through his veins, Kenma can actually hear the sounds of the forest; the rustle of the trees as a breeze passes by, the chitter of birds somewhere in the distance. He tucks his knees against his chest and takes a bite of the tuna mayonnaise onigiri that his aunt had packed him for lunch. Kenma thinks that his game’s OST compliments the sounds of the forest.

He is halfway through his second onigiri, and nearly three-quarters through his apple juice, when he hears a rustle behind him that sounds too close and too strong to just be the wind. He pauses his game and sets the console down besides his lunchbox, before getting on his hands and knees to crawl closer to the bush behind him. A part of his mind is telling him that he is being reckless, a word that he had learned in school last term and something his Dad often calls his Mum when she throws the karaage chicken into the oil without a second thought. He supposes that he got this trait from her. Still, the other and bigger part of his mind is telling him that he isn’t in danger. He might have found exactly what he came here for.

There is a bit more rustling, before Kenma pushes the branches of the bush away to reveal the person he has been looking for. Kenma finds Kuro squatting behind the bush and holding up his paper fan with both hands to cover his face. Kenma doesn't know how a measly paper fan could hide the big man and thinks that he’s being silly. He also realises that he is wearing the exact same clothes as yesterday, mask and all included.

“What are you doing?” Kenma asks. A grown-man looking yokai squatting behind a bush to hide from a child, a human child, looks pretty ridiculous.

Kenma nearly falls backwards when the fan is snapped shut in his face. 

“The question is, what are you doing here, child?” Kuro snaps at him, but Kenma doesn’t think that he sounds angry, not fully angry at him. It is just like how his uncle had given him a lecture yesterday in his fake-angry voice. He doesn’t understand why grown-ups pretend to be angry when they’re not.

“You didn’t show me your magic yesterday, so I had to come back today.” Kenma explains, moving to sit down more comfortably with his legs crossed. He is vaguely aware that his Gameboy is still on behind him, and that his precious battery life is burning by sitting there, so Kenma twists his body to reach and turn the Gameboy off after saving his progress. Suddenly a shadow looms over him, blocking out the sunlight, and Kenma looks up to see Kuro standing in front of him (behind him? Kenma still had his body twisted) with his arms crossed over his chest. Kenma can’t make out Kuro’s face properly, with the angle he is looking up at and the sunlight coming from behind the yokai, but Kenma can still make out the scowl on the other’s face.

“Did you just teleport here?” he asks as he sits properly again, this time facing Kuro.

“I thought I made it clear yesterday that you shouldn’t be here. Maybe I should just eat you, that would save both of us the trouble,” Kuro mutters under his breath, avoiding his question.

Kenma rolls his eyes before picking up his half eaten onigiri again. This one is braised beef, and although it’s a little too salty, the flavour is still really nice. He makes a mental note to ask his aunt to give his mum the recipe for when he returns home.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me? I could totally eat you right here and now,” Kuro threatens, sitting down in front of him. He keeps the same safe distance as yesterday and sits with the same immaculate posture and crossed legs.

“If you wanted to do that, then you would’ve done that yesterday already”, Kenma mumbles through the straw of his juice. “Besides, I don’t think I’m tasty. My aunt always says that I’m too skinny.” Although he can’t see Kuro’s eyes, he could still feel the yokai scanning his body up and down.

“She’s right, you are too skinny. Do they not feed you enough?” Kuro sounds almost offended for him. Kenma only shrugs his shoulders and continues chewing the last bit of his onigiri.

“Want to eat this instead? It’s grilled salted mackerel inside”. He pushes his lunchbox with the remaining onigiri closer to Kuro, who only - what Kenma assumes at least - stares at the tupperware.

“You do realise we were just talking about how you were too skinny, and probably don’t eat enough. Why are you offering me your food?” Kuro’s voice sounds suspicious, and Kenma only shrugs his shoulders again, focusing more on finishing the last of his juice box.

“I’m kind of full.” Kenma slowly reaches for the lunchbox again. “Besides, if you don’t want to eat it, then I guess one of the forest animals would be happy to try it”. He deliberately slows down his outstretched arm and watches in amusement as Kuro snatches the onigiri from the box.

“You’ll mess up the natural food chain,” he complains. “Kids these days are so ungrateful, you shouldn’t waste food”. Kenma watches with wide eyes as the other devours the onigiri in three bites and licks his lips and fingers in gusto afterwards. 

“Now that you ate my food, you can’t eat me anymore.” Kenma says, as he reaches for his lunchbox again to clip the lid back on and return into his bag. He is vaguely aware of Kuro watching him, but he ignores him in favour of packing up his own rubbish from lunch. 

Kuro leans back on his arms, and Kenma thinks that this is the most relaxed he has ever seen the yokai. 

“I see, so that was an exchange? You’re quite a smart child, tricking me like that.” Kuro’s voice is more drawn out now and Kenma is aware that the other is teasing him. Not that he couldn’t bite back.

“Or you’re just not that bright of a yokai ,” he retorts.

Kuro brings a hand up to his - very exposed - chest in dramatic despair. “You wound me, kiddo. But I don’t want to hear that from someone like you. You’re not that bright either if you’re lost in the forest two days in a row”.

Kenma rolls his eyes again and suppresses the smile twitching to make its way on his lips. “You literally just called me smart not even a minute ago. Clearly you’re not that bright if you can’t even make up your mind.” 

Kuro lets out another dramatic gasp. “No, you’re not smart.”

“No, you.”

“No, you.”

“No, you”

“No, you .”

“You’re literally arguing with a child right now, what does that say about you,” Kenma giggles,  and he finds it hard to believe that he’s having an argument like this with a yokai out of all things. 

Kuro tsks loudly, and crosses his arms back over his chest. Kenma thinks that he looks more like a bratty child than he did himself. He could picture Kuro stomping his foot in frustration as well. 

Kuro turns away from Kenma. 

“Hey, how does your mask stay on your face without a string at the back?” Kenma asks. The mask on the yokai’s face didn’t seem to have any ear loops, nor did it cover Kuro’s mouth, so Kenma rules out the chance of there being a mouthpiece for him to bite onto to hold the mask in place.

Kuro scoffs. “Well of course I don’t need a stupid string to hold onto my mask. What do you think I am, a human ?”

Kenma considers it for a moment before shrugging his shoulders again. He grabs his Gameboy and loads up his game again. Now that he has eaten and has found what he came into the forest looking for, Kenma decides that he deserves to take a break with his game. He is vaguely aware of Kuro watching him play, but he ignores the other in favour of concentrating on his screen. As strange as it is, Kenma thinks that this must be what hanging out with friends feels like. It is kind of nice.

He isn’t sure how much time has passed, but he managed to finish two side quests and is well into clearing his third one when Kuro suddenly startles, as if he had fallen asleep laying underneath the sun without realising it. He sits back upright and directly faces Kenma.

“What is it?” He asks, glancing up briefly at the other before returning his focus back on his game.

Kuro remains silent and with Kenma focusing on the silence, he is able to start picking up the other noises in the forest. The buzzing of cicadas as well as other sounds of animals he couldn’t identify. Kenma wouldn’t be surprised if Kuro tells him that those are the sounds of other yokai . He takes another glance at the older and is about to repeat the question when Kuro speaks up.

“Aren’t you scared?” Kuro asks.

“What?” Kenma stops tapping at his Gameboy and looks up at Kuro. 

“Nothing, nevermind,” Kuro brushes off as he moves to stand up. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna sit around all day, let’s go somewhere,” Kuroo suggests, as he held out his hand for Kenma again. 

Kenma scrutinises the hand offered to him. “Are you going to kidnap me?”

Kuro snorts. “Don’t flatter yourself, kiddo. If I wanted to, I would have done so yesterday.”

Kenma considers it for a second before pulling his backpack on and taking Kuro’s hand. He notices how the yokai ’s one fully engulfs his own. 

“Where are we going?” Kenma asks.

Kuro hums, but doesn't respond to his question. Kenma wishes that he could see the yokai ’s face in order to see what he is thinking.

“What, am I that handsome that you can’t stop staring?” Kuro teases, peering down at Kenma through the mask.

Kenma rolls his eyes again. He can’t believe that the yokai next to him is actually supposed to be older than him. He wonders whether it is a lie that older people are supposed to be more mature. “I can’t even see your face; how am I supposed to know if you’re handsome or not?”

Kuro chuckles. “So you would admit that I’m handsome if I didn’t have the mask on?”

Kuro is facing the front of again, guiding Kenma to wherever it is that they were walking to, as Kenma keeps his eyes up at the other. He hasn’t tried imagining Kuro’s face yet, and he thinks that he probably won’t be able to.

“Probably not, especially not with your hair like that.”

Kuro whips his head down so fast that it wouldn’t surprise him if it suddenly falls off. “Excuse me? What’s wrong with my hair?” Kuro exclaims.

Kenma stares ahead of them. The forest still looks the same to him, but he figures that if anything, Kuro should know where they are going, even if he isn’t watching where they are walking to at the moment.

“Bush,” Kenma mutters under his breath.

Kuro sputters and Kenma can imagine his eyes going wide. “Are you suggesting my hair looks like a bush?” 

Kenma doesn’t get to reply as Kuro walks straight into the bush in front of him, which he had failed to notice earlier.

Kenma thinks that Kuro looks funny like this, with the lower half of his body hidden inside the bush, and only his torso and up peeking through above the leaves.

Kuro turns to him, and Kenma thinks that the mask looks almost accusatory, yet he feels no anger behind it. “Is this what you meant with bush, or my hair?” Kuro asks, as he moves to carefully step out of the shrub. He’s still holding onto Kenma’s hand, so Kenma has to lift himself onto his toes as Kuro uses his hands to stabilise himself maneuvering out of the shrub. 

Kenma can hear Kuro muttering to himself, something about having picked up a little brat and he vaguely realises that Kuro was talking about him, but he doesn’t let that get to him. He’s called him that before, and all the other times were without malice, so Kenma thinks that it would be safe to assume that this time is the same. 

Kuro is nearly out of the shrub, when a loud yowl rings through the area, and suddenly the shrub is moving too much for it to be just from Kuro’s movements. Kenma feels his face pale as he sees the thing step out of the shrub. It is small, reaching only up to Kenma’s waist, but the thing looks absolutely hideous. If Kenma thought that the monsters in his games looked bad, then this thing in front of him is ten times worse. It has green-ish fur sprouting out of its round body in patches, and the parts that weren’t covered in the matted fur, are covered by brown scaly skin that looked in desperate need of some deep skin moisturiser. Its beady eyes are trained on Kuro and the thing has its mouth pulled back in a snarl, exposing rows of tiny sharp teeth. 

“Watch it, Cat-boy!” The thing croaks out, voice as gravely as it looks. 

Kenma scrunches his face, and it takes everything in him not to give into his brain sending out signals to make a run for it. Kuro calmly steps out of the rest of the shrub, nothing like the clumsy way he was navigating himself out earlier. He stands in front of Kenma, blocking him out of sight of the thing, still holding on tightly to Kenma’s hand. 

“Now, now, there’s no need to be so brash, Mr. Wood-Imp. This was purely an accident,” Kuro says, his voice coming out smooth and suave. A part of Kenma is glad that Kuro had blocked his sight of the hideous thing, but another part of him, the smaller and curiouser part of him, wanted to see more of the creature. 

“You think stepping my tail off was an accident? This wasn’t the first time I’ve heard this excuse; I’m not going to fall for it again.” Kenma hears a thud, and he imagines the imp stomping his foot against the ground. 

“Well then, let me.” Kuroo says as he reaches his other hand behind him. For a split second, Kenma thinks that he was going to grab him and sacrifice him to the ugly imp creature, but then Kuro grabs onto the paper fan that was tucked inside the obi belt, and he gives Kenma’s hand a small squeeze, as if he sensing the spike in Kenma’s nerves. He unfolds his fan with a dramatic flap on the side, as if he were in a historic drama, before bringing it in front of him and out of Kenma’s side. 

A flash of light bursts in front of Kuro, before Kenma sees red smoke curling and wisping up into the air. 

“There, all good. See no harm done,” Kuro quips, and Kenma can almost hear the grin in the other’s voice. Kenma hears a gruff humph before the imp flies into a shrub further away from them. Kenma thinks that he might have missed the imp moving back altogether if he had blinked in that moment. 

Nothing happens for a moment before Kuro turns around to face Kenma. 

“Sorry, did that scare you?” he asks.

Kenma shakes his head.

“Hah, it’s not good to lie, you know?” 

“Then you shouldn’t have asked such an obvious question,” Kenma retorts.

Kuro laughs out, and ruffles his hair with the hand that was holding the now folded paper fan. Kenma shoots him an annoyed look, but Kuro is already looking away. 

“Now, let us continue!” He points in front of them, and tucks his fan back into the obi belt.

They don’t encounter any other yokai after that on their walk. Kuro had explained to him that that wood-imp in particular was just a grumpy one, and they were unfortunate enough to encounter it out of all the yokai in the forest. He reassured Kenma that normally yokai are much more gentle, preferring to stay out of each others' and anyone else’s way. 

Kenma’s hand grows clammy in Kuro’s hold by the time they arrive at their destination. He doesn’t know himself why he was still holding onto Kuro’s hand, but he kind of likes the way it makes him feel safe and secure inside the large forest. Kuro tells him to close his eyes and Kenma only raises an eyebrow, but does as he was told. 

He feels Kuro let go of his hand, and Kenma nearly shoots his eyes back open in panic. 

“Don’t worry, I’m still here,” Kuro mutters from behind him. He has placed both of his large hands on Kenma’s shoulders, and he gently nudges him to move forward. Kenma has to squeeze his eyes shut together to prevent himself from opening them until Kuro says so. They only take another ten or so steps forward before Kuro tells him that he could open his eyes. 

Kenma doesn’t think that he could have prepared himself for the sight in front of him even if Kuro told him about it beforehand. Before them lies a tree that stretches up as far as Kenma can see, its trunk so thick that Kenma thinks it might even be large enough to fit his house back in Tokyo inside. The tree’s roots are sprawled out against the forest floor, extending and twisting in all sorts of directions, bleeding out of the tree like an endless ocean of roots. Kenma could see that some were as tall as Kuro himself, and so thick that not even a chainsaw would be able to cut through the root. Kenma thinks that the tree must have been over thousands of years old, the bark patterned in a way that only old things were like, yet Kenma can feel how strong the tree is. He can feel the way the tree beat like the heart of the mountain forest, and the way it breathed life into every being living here. There is a part of him that thinks that the tree must have been a spirit itself. He doesn’t know how he had missed seeing the tree from outside of the forest; he is sure that it loomed over the other trees in the forest and stood out in a way that no other tree did.

“She’s pretty impressive right? We call her the Mother,” Kuro explains. Kuro is also facing the tree, no doubt taking in its magnificence like Kenma is. Kenma doesn’t fully understand it when Kuro calls the tree, the Mother , doesn’t get how a tree can be a mother, but he nods anyway. The tree feels magical in its own way, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Kuro were to tell him that spirits and yokai came from this tree. 

“Isn’t this tree special? Why’re you showing it to me then?’ Kenma asks instead. He may only be eight years old, but he knows enough about people to know that they would exploit anything and everything they thought was special. 

“I get a feeling that you’re not going to leave me, or any of this alone anytime soon. So I figured I might as well show you from the beginning,” Kuro explains with a shrug of his shoulders. Kenma wants to tell him that he has a stupid amount of trust in an eight year old, but he decides against it.

“I stay here every holiday. I live in Tokyo, but my parents can’t take care of me during the holidays because of work, so I stay here with my uncle,” Kenma shares. He can feel Kuro’s stare on him, but he keeps his eyes on the tree. Kenma finds that the light of the sun reflects off the tree in a way that makes it almost seem like the tree is shimmering. He wonders what it would look like during sunset.

“I kind of reckoned that you weren’t from around here,” Kuro says, and now it was Kenma’s turn to look back at him. “I mean, you’re stupid enough to come into the forest. No one from the area comes up as far as you do.”

Kenma scrunches his nose at the insult, but chooses to let it slide this time. “Why, what’s wrong with the forest?”

Kuro is looking off into the distance, and lifts a finger to point at something. “You see that?”

Kenma follows the direction of the finger. It looked like any other part of the area surrounding the Mother-tree, with roots crawling into the ground covered in moss. “Do you mean the root?” Kenma asks.

Kuro looks down at him as if he had just said something offensive. 

“Okay wait, here,” Kuro holds his hand out for Kenma again, and Kenma only slightly stares at it. He wonders how Kuro’s hand could look so much like a human’s. He takes hold of Kuro’s hand and looks in the direction that he was pointing to before. 

Oh, Kenma sees it now. Sees them now. 

All around the Mother-tree, all around them were spirits and yokai of all types. They looked nothing like the wood-imp that they had encountered earlier, and more like the spirits he sees in his video games. Near transparent beings coloured in pale blues and pinks and oranges, not taking in the shapes of any animals that Kenma has seen at all, but then seeming like they took the shape of all animals alike. It was the most magical sight Kenma has ever seen.

He reaches his free hand up at a curious pink sprite that has been fluttering around them. The little thing lands to sit on the tip of Kenma’s fingertips and Kenma has to stifle his gasp to not scare it off. 

“Kuro, look!” Kenma lifts his fingers up for Kuro to see as well.

Kuro smiles at him, and pets the little sprite with a finger. It nuzzles into his touch before flying off again, re-joining the group of other sprites that looked like it. “Cute, right?”

Kenma nods at him, and marvels at the sight all around him. The sun was starting to set, and the forest around him was most definitely sparkling now.

“But these spirits are the reason why locals don’t venture up here,” Kuroo continues. “More like the reason they can’t come up here.” 

Kenma waits for Kuro to continue explaining as he makes eye contact with a deer-looking spirit. The spirits here remind him more of Pokemon than animals honestly. 

“The forest is grown in a way so that if people venture too far, they’ll be trapped in there.” Kenma gasps, and whips his head back to look at Kuro. He could feel a trickle of fear starting to chill his body. Did he let his guard down too early? 

“Don’t worry, you’re safe with me,” Kuro laughs at him, and Kenma is only mildly annoyed that Kuro would scare him like that. “But yeah, normally villagers would become lost and trapped in the forest. I guess enough people have become lost that they have started to avoid going past the mountain path in general.”

Kenma doesn’t understand why the forest would trap people, but he is still too shy to ask. He guesses that his confusion must have played out onto his face, because Kuro continues his explanation. 

“The forest only started doing that a couple of centuries ago, in order to protect the spirits and yokai that live here,” Kuro says as he pets a cat-looking spirit that has settled itself on his shoulder. He scratches it a bit more under its chin, before tapping it twice and the spirit jumps off his shoulder and vanishes into air. Kenma hopes that Kuro didn’t kill the spirit, though a part of him knew that Kuro wouldn’t do that. 

Kuro squeezes Kenma’s hand in his grip. “We should start heading out too.” Kenma nods, and turns around after one final look at the Mother-tree. Their walk through the forest was a lot more lively now that Kenma paid more attention to their surroundings. He could see the little sprites and yokais alike dancing in the distance, and if he strained his ears, then he could hear the sounds that he originally thought were birds, but now knew were spirits.

He tightens his hold on Kuro’s hand the closer they approach the torii gates at the bottom. He didn’t want the other to disappear like he had the day before. 

“Are you going to meet me here tomorrow as well?” He asks, looking up at Kuro. 

Kuro smiles down at him. “Why do I get a feeling that you won’t accept ‘no’ as an answer?”

Kenma gives him a small grin. 

“Fine, just make sure to bring more of those rice balls tomorrow,” Kuro says. Satisfied with the answer, Kenma lets go of Kuro’s hand.

“See you tomorrow then,” Kuro offers a smile, and Kenma returns it.

Over dinner, his uncle asked him about his day, and it seemed like he had no clue what his nephew had been up to. Though when Kenma returned the empty lunch box to his aunt, the twinkle in her eye told him that she wasn’t as clueless as her partner. 

—

The days passed like that. Kenma would trek up the forest path to meet Kuro, who would be waiting for him by the large torii gates. They would spend their days exploring the forest, with Kuro showing him parts which he thought had the prettiest view, or ones which had the sweetest berries which they could snack on underneath the late-summer sun. On days when Kenma was feeling too tired to go exploring, they would sit by the trunk of a large tree, Kenma playing games on his Gameboy, and Kuro taking naps beside him, using the forest sounds and the game OST’s as lullabies. 

The day that Kenma had to return to Tokyo was fast approaching, and he didn’t know how he felt having to leave behind his new friend. Kuro was the first person he considered as his actual friend. He was unlike all the other kids back in Tokyo who would pull faces behind Kenma’s back when they thought he couldn’t see. But he was also unlike all the adults that only patted Kenma on the head and then instantly dismissed him, as if he were a house cat or something. 

Kuro is waiting for Kenma at the torii gate as usual. It is just before noon; Kenma had been stuck inside trying to appease both his uncle and aunt about having packed all of his luggage before he would take the train back home to Tokyo tomorrow morning. Kenma had been tossing and turning the night before, trying to think of a way to tell Kuro about his approaching leave. 

“Hey, you’re late today,” Kuro says as he stands up from where he had been resting on a rock. Kenma briefly wonders if that might be too visible of a position, that other villagers might see him if they were to walk up this path, but then he remembers Kuro’s words about no people venturing up this far. 

“Sorry, I had to pack my bags,” Kenma mumbles. If Kuro didn’t have his mask on, then Kenma was sure the other would’ve made a surprised face. 

“Oh yeah? Are you going back to Tokyo?” Kuro asks as he takes Kenma’s hand in his and leads them off into the forest. Kenma hopes that they won’t explore too far today; he was still feeling tired from having tossed and turned all night, and this morning whilst packing his bags with his aunty hasn’t been the best for him either. 

Still, Kenma nods in response. “School holidays are ending, so I have to go back home tomorrow. But I’ll be back here next holiday.” 

Kenma looks up at Kuro and catches the smile on his face. He knows that they had become friends, but seeing that Kuro was also looking forward to him being around still made him feel happiness in a way that he thought only video games could bring.

“Where are we going today?” Kenma asks. Kuro grins at him, and tugs his hand lightly forward.

“Well I think the lake up the front has one of the best napping places,” Kuro suggests, and Kenma couldn’t wait to spend time with his new friend there.

—

Kenma’s trip back to Tokyo passes by in a flash of friendly train guards and blurred scenery and before he knows it, he is back in school. In between familiarising himself with some new faces of classmates and trying to make sure to hand in his homework on time, Kenma starts to think that maybe he had just imagined the entire encounter with Kuro. The more he thinks about it, the more surreal it seems to him. Kenma wonders if everything had just been one long fever dream instead of days spent outside with a stranger - no, a friend - that wasn’t even human. Kenma knows that he has an active imagination - his teachers have mentioned it plenty of times on his report card - and he also knows that prefers spending time inside his head instead of with others, yet he still isn’t sure whether he is capable of actually imagining the entire encounter.

His doubts, however, clear up when he sees the cat sitting on the edge of his fence one morning on his way to school. The cat is fat and fluffy, and its coat is almost sparkling in the light. The only way he knows that he isn’t imagining the cat is because he is able to reach his hand out and feel the cat’s soft fur underneath his fingertips. When he asks his mum about the cat over dinner, she shrugs her shoulders and says that she hasn’t seen a cat like that before. He doesn’t dwell on it.

During his next holidays, he is whisked back to the countryside to spend time with his uncle and aunt. Kenma spends most of his time underneath the shade of the forest though, either walking around exploring with Kuro or simply just sitting there playing his games as Kuro naps beside him. Kuro ends up opening a whole new world to Kenma, and Kenma can’t even be mad at him for it.

But the yokai world isn’t the only thing that Kuro introduces Kenma to. The more time they spend together, the more Kenma appreciates having someone there by his side. Kuro is a steady force that Kenma has grown to appreciate, and he has come to know a whole new meaning to the word ‘ friendship ’ that he didn’t know of before. But whilst their friendship is growing, something else seems to grow alongside it that Kenma can’t put a name to, and he’s not sure how he feels about this new uncertainty. 

The last year of middle school is upon him before Kenma likes to admit. He had received an acceptance letter into a highschool, Fukurodani Academy, that one of his neighbours went to. The choice of highschool hadn’t mattered to him, but his mother had heard from one of her friends that it had been a good school, so Kenma applied. Regardless, he is excited to tell Kuro of the news of his acceptance. 

His aunt and uncle meet him at the train station with hugs and over-enthusiastic back pats. He tells them of his acceptance into highschool, and they respond with more over-enthusiastic congratulations and promises of a big dinner celebration. But during the whole ride, Kenma only stares out of the window and feels his heart speed up at the sight of the mountain. 

—

“Kenma!”

Kenma looks up from where he is splayed out on the couch, snacking on an apple slice that his aunt had cut up after dinner. 

“The summer festival is this weekend, did you bring a yukata with you?” His uncle asks as he sits himself down on the other side of the couch. Kenma tucks his legs up to make room for him, and his uncle smiles at him appreciatively as he flips through the channels on TV. 

Kenma thinks of the clothes he had packed this time around and shakes his head. He didn’t pack a yukata - didn’t even think that he owned one, other than the one that he apparently wore as a toddler - and his uncle makes a sound in understanding. 

“Well, you’re lucky we have a store just a couple of blocks down that rents out some. You should go check it out soon so you can reserve a nice looking one.” 

Kenma makes another sound of agreement as he continues tapping at the cat cafe game he has been engrossed with in the last couple of days. It wasn’t his usual type of game, but the characters were cute and the tasks were just rewarding enough for him to pass time with.

“I’ll go the day after tomorrow,” he says as he stands up, stretching his arms above his head.

“Oh? You busy going out with a friend tomorrow?” his Uncle asks.

Kenma twists his phone in his hand as he starts to walk towards the bathroom. “Something like that.”

“Well, you should invite that friend of yours to the festival then, it’s always more fun going there with friends. Your Aunt and I will be helping out around, so we won’t be able to show you around.”

Kenma considers his words and tells his uncle that he’ll consider it, before bidding him goodnight. Kenma ends up lying wide awake on the futon in the room, thinking over his uncle’s words. He wonders if Kuro had ever been to a festival before, let alone a human one. He wonders about how the yokai would react if Kenma were to invite him to the summer festival. He thinks of Kuro wearing his yukata and mask, and thinks that he would fit right in. Would anyone suspect that Kuro wasn’t human? Would there be other yokai that looked like Kuro mingling amongst the crowds of the festival? Kenma ends up drifting off to sleep with more questions than answers,and an eagerness to see Kuro the next morning. 

—

It turns out that Kuro had been to a festival before. In fact, he had been to many festivals before - both human and yokai one’s - as he enjoys the atmosphere of them. It also turns out that Kuro would be “ more than honoured ” to accept Kenma’s invitation to the festival.

“This is the first time you’re inviting me anywhere, in all of our years of friendship, Kenma-kun,” Kuro drawls out.

“Stop teasing me, Kuro,” Kenma huffs, knitting his eyebrows together in concentration as he invades a goblin camp in his game. 

They’re sitting underneath the shade of a large tree by the river, a spot that has become one of their favourites over the years. It provided cool shade during even the warmest summers, and protected them from the light snow during the winter. The river is calming enough that occasionally Kenma was able to spot other spirits resting and playing around nearby, and the sounds of the water were a nice change from the usual sounds of traffic he was used to in the city. 

After a couple more taps and one and a half broken weapons later, Kenma manages to reach a good save point, so he sets his switch down. “Do you even have any money to spend at the festival?” Kenma asks.

Kuro lets out a snort. “Do you really think yokai need to stoop to the level of humans and use something as superficial as money ?”

Kenma squints at him and sighs, resting his own head against the trunk of the tree. “Just say you don’t have any money, I’ll bring some extra.”

Kuro scoffs but doesn’t deny it this time, so they sit there together in silence. They do so until Kenma’s phone starts ringing from his pocket, and Kenma answers the call from his aunt.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ll go now and should be there in like 20 minutes. Mhm okay, bye.”

Kenma pockets his phone again, and dusts off his pants when he stands up. Kuro is leaning up on one elbow now whilst facing him expectantly.

“My aunt booked a fitting at the yukata shop since I don’t have one my size for the festival,” Kenma explains. “I was going to go tomorrow though.”

Kuro makes a sound of understanding and stands up with a stretch as well. “Well, it is in a couple of days. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t prepared one sooner.”

Kenma shoots him a glare as they start walking back towards the mountain path. “Sorry that not all of us wear a yukata all year round.”

Kuro snorts out a laugh again and Kenma feels his own lip tugging up, but he refuses to admit his amusement.

The path they’re walking on is a familiar one, walked on by both of their feet more times than Kenma can count. He kicks a couple of stray pebbles and wonders about the festival. It would be Kenma’s first time at the summer festival, despite him having visited the countryside since he was young. They had always coincidentally fallen on day’s where Kenma had already returned to Tokyo, and the one time he was in town for the festival, he had fallen sick with a fever after playing around with Kuro in the stream the day before. He hasn’t visited any festivals in Tokyo either, save for the cultural festivals his school hosts, but Kenma has the faintest memories of colourful string-lights, candied apples and freshly grilled takoyaki from when he had been a toddler. A twinge of sadness washes over him at the thought that his parents couldn’t join him this time like they used to, but knows that they would still be excited to hear his stories once he returns back home. 

They arrive at the torii gates, and Kuro slows to a stop there like he does every time. He has a big grin on his face, and Kenma returns the look with a small smile of his own. 

“I probably won’t be able to come here tomorrow. My aunt and uncle are running a stall at the festival and they’ve been asking me to help prepare,” he says.

“Such a nice nephew, Kenma-kun,” Kuro teases, and Kenma scrunches his nose at the joke.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you Saturday night then. I’ll meet you here, it’ll be easier,” Kenma says.

“Are you worried for me?” Kuro fakes a sob, and Kenma nearly takes back his invitation. Nearly .

He huffs and turns around, walking away to the sound of Kuro’s hyena laugh.

—

Kenma finds that helping his aunt and uncle prepare the stuff for their stall might be even more time consuming than playing video games. He didn’t even realise when the entire day had passed by packing bouncy balls and paper scoops into large boxes, ready to be set up as a booth tomorrow. Kenma is lying in his bed and is acutely aware of the yukata hanging by the door, the one his aunt had helped him pick out the day before, after many different fittings. He tosses and turns on his mattress at the irrational thought that people will look and stare when he shows up wearing the yukata tomorrow. 

A part of him knows that he will only be another face in the crowd for them, the same way those people will also only be faces to him, yet the thought that people will judge is still there. He eventually manages to fall asleep after several hours, his final thought before drifting off being that of Kuro attending the festival with him tomorrow. 

He’s fiddling with the case of his phone as he waits for Kuro by the torii gates. Kenma had helped his aunt and uncle unpack all the boxes and set up their ball game booth earlier, but they had shooed him away to get ready about an hour ago. The sun was already making its descent in the distance, yet the heat was still unrelenting. He regrets not taking the paper fan his uncle had offered him earlier.

There’s a sudden harsh gust of cool air against his ear and Kenma lurches forward.

“Heh, did I scare you?”

Kenma gives Kuro an unimpressed look, and the other sheepishly scratches the back of his head.

“Okay, I’ll pretend that I didn’t see anything, you can stop looking at me like that now,” Kuro drawls out. 

Kenma lets out a sigh and turns to start walking back towards the village, not wanting to fall into Kuro’s provocations with this heat. 

“By the way, you’re looking real good there, Kenma-kun. We’re almost matching.”

Kuro is wearing the same thing he does everytime Kenma sees him, yet somehow in the glow of the setting sun, it feels like Kenma is meeting a whole different person. And what Kuro said was right. Kenma wore a light gray patterned yukata, and the colour of his dark red obi was nearly identical in colour with Kuro’s. Kenma was now feeling grateful that the yukata store didn’t have the obi he originally wanted in his size. 

Kenma ducks his head down to hide his heating cheeks. “We should go. It’s probably starting already.”

Kuro makes a sound of acknowledgement and holds his hand out for Kenma.

“Let’s go then?”

He takes the offered hand into his own and feels Kuro squeeze them together. Holding Kuro’s should not make Kenma’s heart beat as fast as it does - he’s held Kuro’s hand plenty of times before, less so in recent times, but still more than enough times - so he doesn’t understand why his heart would pick up speed at the feeling of Kuro’s warm hand around his own. 

By the time they make it back into town, the sun is already starting to sink behind the mountains. There are string lights lit in all different colours hanging from the fronts of stalls and the sound of taiko drums and shakuhachi playing from speakers that Kenma can’t see. The festival is only starting, but there are already more people present than Kenma had expected. He wonders if there were always this many people in the town and he had somehow missed them by spending his free time in the mountains, or if these people travelled here from afar. 

“So what do you usually do first?”. 

There’s a light buzz of conversations around him, and Kenma is so caught up avoiding people around them and their stares that he nearly misses Kuro’s question.

“Oh, uhm…” He darts his eyes around and spots a little girl looking at them. When their eyes meet she gives him a cheeky smile, showing off a missing front tooth. Kenma tries his best to return a small smile and he sucks in a sharp breath when her smile widens at that. He takes another deep breath and reminds himself that other than the little girl, no one was looking at them, he has nothing to be afraid of. 

“I don’t really go to festivals, so I’m not too...” Kenma trails off.

Kuro makes a sound of understanding.

“Well, there’s something I want to get first and then we can get food. How about that?” Kuro suggests.

Kenma shrugs his shoulders, but still smiles in relief to know that Kuro wasn’t expecting him to have everything planned out. He lets Kuro lead them through the bustle of people to whatever place he has in mind and Kenma is amazed at how seamlessly Kuro blends in with everyone around them. Had he not known, Kenma thinks that he too would have thought that Kuro was just another person celebrating the summer festival, not a yokai mingling amongst humans. Kenma briefly wonders whether there were any other yokai blending in with everyone else at the festival like Kuro was. 

He ends up being so caught up in his thoughts that he bumps into Kuro’s back, not realising that the other had stopped. Kuro doesn’t say anything, but smiles down at him all the same. 

Kenma is a little suspicious at first, as Kuro smiling down at him like this was usually followed by a teasing remark. But this time his smile was missing the tilt of his lips that adorned his face whenever he was trying to take jabs at Kenma. Instead, his smile is a gentle lift of his lips, showing off his row of perfect teeth with the slightest glint of his sharp canines. Kenma wishes he could see more than just his smile, wishes that he could see the look of Kuro’s eyes when he smiles at him like this as well.

His thoughts are interrupted by a sudden darkness and Kenma’s hands fly up to his face, where he feels the uneven texture of papier mache underneath his fingertips. He takes the thing off his face and stares down at a cream and gold coloured cat mask. Kuro is grinning at him, and Kenma only raises his eyebrows in question. 

“I bought this for you so that we can match,” he says whilst pointing at his own mask. He fights the blush making its way across his cheeks at the implications of his words. The mask did look similar to Kuro’s, the same cat face that would cover the top half of his face, but anyone could tell that Kuro’s one was by far more eloquent than his own. 

“Wait, how did you even buy this? I thought yokai don’t have money,” Kenma asks. He glances at the stall vendor and sees him sparing them no mind, so clearly Kuro didn't steal the mask like Kenma was afraid he had. 

Kuro takes the mask out of Kenma’s hands and gently adjusts it onto the side of his head. “As much as I like it when we’re matching, I think it’s better if you wear it up here so you can still see.” He taps the tip of Kenma’s nose with his finger and then intertwines their hands once again, leading them off somewhere else. Kenma can’t deny the way his heart starts pounding against his chest.

“And to answer your question,” Kuro glances back at him and Kenma immediately recognises the mischievous tilt to his grin. “Let's just say that I happen to come upon a nice little shrine that has been devoid of a deity for a while. But you people don’t know that, so…” 

Kenma nearly stumbles from surprise. “You stole money from a shrine?”

Kuro has the audacity to look smug about it, and Kenma wonders if it was a mistake inviting someone who seemed to be unconcerned about getting punished by the gods. 

“Well the money was just sitting there. It was like it was waiting for me to take some, so you can’t fault me, right?” 

Kenma doesn’t know if he should roll his eyes at Kuro’s reasoning or send a quick prayer to the gods to ask for forgiveness. He ends up letting out a small chuckle instead, and squeezes their hands together as they worm their way through the crowds. 

They end up near the food stalls and Kenma nearly drools from all the different smells in the air. There are lines of people in front of the takoyaki stall and the okonomiyaki stall, and even the yakisoba stall, but Kenma’s eyes drift towards the stall selling sweet coloured candied apples. 

Kuro seems to sense his next words, because he is suddenly steering Kenma straight into joining the takoyaki line.

“You should get proper food before you eat dessert,” Kuro nags and Kenma turns to make a face at him. The line moves up and they follow.

“Takoyaki isn’t ‘proper food’ either, Kuro.”

Kuro squeezes his shoulders in retaliation and Kenma swats at him. “It’s still more proper than drowning an apple on a stick in sugar and calling it a day.”

Kenma makes a sound, but refuses to admit defeat. Fortunately for him, he didn’t need to worry about it for long, as it was nearly their turn to order. 

“Do you want the traditional one or the one with crisps inside?” Kuro asks.

Kenma considers the question for a second, but it wasn’t a hard choice. “Let’s get the traditional one.”

Kuro beams down at him, and Kenma only realises Kuro has patted his hair in approval when his hand was gone. It takes a second for him to process the touch, and then a second more for the touch to really set in.

Heat bursts across his cheeks and Kenma ducks his head to let his hair fall in front of his face. He feels his heart beat against his ribcage and wonders if this was supposed to be normal. Is it healthy for his heart to be beating this fast?

“Oi, Kenma. Did you want the six or nine pieces?” Kuro calls out and Kenma hadn’t even realised when he has moved up. 

“I think six should be fine. Unless you’re hungry.”

Kuro puts his hand across his chin in exaggerated thought before turning back to the vendor. “We’ll take the nine pieces please.”

Kenma hands over a 1000yen note before Kuro has the chance to and the vendor thanks them enthusiastically before poking up the takoyaki and handing him back his change. 

“No fair, you should have let me pay for it,” Kuro complains, and Kenma gives him a look for it. 

Kenma sighs and moves to the side as Kuro accepts the steaming plate of hot food. “I don’t know how I feel about eating food that has been paid for with stolen money.”

Kuro pokes a piece of the takoyaki and brings it up to his mouth to gently blow on, and Kenma grimaces at the thought of eating something so hot straight away. He looks around and spies the relatively short line of the candied apple stall, so he tugs at Kuro’s sleeve to get his attention. Kuro stops for a second and nods, and lets Kenma lead them to join the line while he continues cooling his takoyaki. 

“Here.”

Kenma tears his attention away from the line of apples and sees Kuro holding out the takoyaki he was cooling. “I told you that you should eat some proper food before ingesting all that sugar.”

Kuro pushes the toothpick a bit closer to him and Kenma eyes the takoyaki for a second, before glancing at Kuro and then back at the takoyaki. He tries to ignore the heat in his cheeks as Kuro feeds him, but finds himself flushing even more when a smile breaks out across Kuro’s face as he starts eating. Kenma knows that the takoyaki is just a plain one, but the temperature is just the way he likes it and somehow so, so , much more tastier than the ones he’s had in Tokyo. He wonders if it has anything to do with the company he’s with. He ducks his head at the thought and brings his hands up to feel the flaming in his cheeks. 

Something thuds against his head and Kenma instantly looks up to Kuro holding the takoyaki in one hand and a bright red candied apple in the other, centimetres away from his forehead. 

“Did you just hit me with that?” Kenma asks accusingly as he rubs over the slightly sore spot.

“I, as the youth call it nowadays, ‘bonked’ you with it,” Kuro says proudly. 

Kenma scrunches his nose at him and snatches the apple from his hand before unwrapping it. “When did you even buy it?” 

Kuro pops a piece of takoyaki into his mouth before shrugging. “Just then.”

Kenma narrows his eyes at him, but nibbles on the apple regardless. “I thought I told you not to buy food with the money you stole.”

Kuroo grins at him. “Well lucky you, that was the last of it anyways. I might have stolen the money, but I at least have some consciousness to only take a little bit.”

Kenma doesn’t know if that is supposed to make him feel better or worse. Kuroo offers another piece of takoyaki to him and Kenma takes it after a moment of contemplating. He goes back to his apple afterwards and declines when Kuro tries to feed him another one. 

Kuro frowns at him. “I thought I told you to eat some proper food first. You’re gonna end up getting a stomach ache if you don’t.”

Kenma makes an exaggerated show of biting into the apple whilst looking straight into the eyes of Kuro’s mask. He hears Kuro mutter a small ‘ brat ’ under his breath and hides his smile behind the apple. 

“We’re not gonna go anywhere until you eat another one,” Kuro says adamantly and Kenma makes a face at him. 

“Fine,” he says as he opens his mouth to let Kuro feed him another one. 

They watch people passing by as Kuro finishes the rest of the takoyaki, and Kenma continues making his way through the apple. They’ve fallen silent, but it's not uncomfortable. The silences between them are never uncomfortable. At least, not like they are with his classmates whenever they find out that Kenma would rather sit down with his PSP instead of play soccer with them outside.

Kuro tosses the empty plate into the bin provided by the stall and brushes his hands against each other. “Ready to go?”

Kenma nods, and sees the way Kuro’s yukata sleeves slip down to reveal toned arms as he stretches his body. Kenma looks away. 

“Oh wait,” Kuro turns back around and leans down in front of Kenma’s face just as Kenma leans back. He brings a hand up and swipes at Kenma’s cheek before bringing his thumb to his mouth. 

“Sweet.”

Kenma watches as Kuro walks casually away while he combusts on the spot. His half-eaten apple nearly slips from his grip.

“Hey, you gonna join me or are you planning on spending the entire festival in that head of yours?” Kuro calls out, and he has the audacity to smirk as he looks back at Kenma.

Kenma shakes his head to clear his thoughts and runs to catch up with Kuro, but he knows that he can’t hide the red of his face. He lets his hair fall in front of his face and pretends to busy himself with the rest of his apple as he lets Kuro lead them around.

“Why’d you do that? It’s dirty,” Kenma mumbles into his snack. 

Kuro hears him anyways and hooks his arm across his shoulder, leaning some of his weight against Kenma. “Why not? Besides, I wouldn’t let you walk around with food on your face. What do you think the other yokai would say about me when they see you looking like a mess?”

Two things catch Kenma’s attention. “So you were thinking about yourself?”

“Is that really the thing you should be asking about?” Kuro asks through a laugh.

Kenma jabs him in the ribs. 

“Are there really other yokai at the festival?”

Kuro nods and then uses the arm resting on Kenma to point off into the distance. “See that old lady over there?”

Kenma squints into the direction Kuro is pointing to. “You mean the short one with the floral kimono and fox mask?”

Kuro nods and then lowers his hand again. They start walking in a different direction from the old lady. 

“Yeah her. She’s one of the oldest yokai in the area and she comes down to enjoy the human festival every year. Some of the others think that she’s the mountain god herself, but I personally think it’s someone else.”

Kenma turns his head to look at the lady again, but the spot she was standing on just seconds ago is now empty. Kenma shudders and he feels Kuro tighten his hold against him. 

“No need to be scared Kenma, you've got me here to protect you,” Kuro teases and Kenma scrunches up his face. 

“Wow you can be so expressive sometimes, Kenma-kun. No, don’t glare at me now, I was only teasing you,” Kuro complains dramatically and Kenma considers pretending not to know him by walking away. He stays by Kuro’s side nonetheless.  

They end up walking near the game stalls of the festival, where Kuro lets go of Kenma to let him get a closer look at the different types of games they offer. They watch some games, cheering with other onlookers when people do well and looking away when they miss. Kenma plays a couple of games himself that he not-surprisingly scores small wins at. He ends up gifting a little cat keychain to Kuro and watches as he excitedly ties it to the bottom of his fan. Kenma even manages to rope Kuro into playing a couple of games, both with and against him. By the end of it, Kenma ends up having spent most of his summer allowance. But looking at Kuro’s barely contained excitement as he drags him off to ‘ somewhere special ’ makes every yen worth it. 

Kenma doesn’t know where they’re walking towards, but all he knows is that they’re walking away from the festival and into the mountain. Yet Kenma doesn’t feel scared. He hasn’t felt scared being alone with Kuro since the first time they met. The lights of the festival fade out the longer they walk and it’s hard to tell the time in the darkness. His phone is tucked into his small drawstring bag with his other belongings, and Kenma is mildly surprised that the thought of bringing it out to use hasn’t crossed his mind yet. 

His feet are starting to ache in the geta and now that he’s just blindly following Kuro somewhere, he’s starting to notice the summer heat again. Kuro must feel his restlessness, because he suddenly slows down his pace to walk next to Kenma instead of in front of him. 

“Just a little more, yeah?”

Kuro sounds apologetic about making Kenma walk this much, so Kenma tries his best to grit through it, even as his breath starts coming out in short pants.

When Kuro finally announces their arrival, Kenma kicks off his geta, shoes be damned, and braces his hands on his knees. He hears Kuro laughing at him, but he finds that he has no will to snap back at him. 

“My, my Kenma. You should really consider exercising more if you’re already this tired from just a walk.”

Kenma glares at him and takes another deep breath. At least the air was clean and clear up here. He brushes strands of hair that have stuck onto his face away, before walking over to Kuro. 

“I actually am going to join the volleyball club.”

Kuro doesn’t say anything, but Kenma imagines his eyebrow lifting underneath the mask. 

“I thought it would be a good way to make friends as well, like you said.” Kenma mutters as he tries to brush away the hair that has stuck onto the back of his neck. 

“Want me to tie your hair up?” Kuro asks whilst holding up the yellow spiral hair tie he had won earlier, one of his only wins, if the team games he played with Kenma weren’t considered. 

Kenma normally prefers having his hair down so that it could partially decrease his field of vision, and Kuro knows this too, but he thinks that Kuro also knows that he would rather have his hair tied up now than having it stick to the back of his neck like cling wrap. 

So he nods his head and turns around, letting Kuro brush away the parts of his hair that have made their way onto his skin again. Kenma understands why Kuro has made them track up the hill now, and understands why he had called it ‘somewhere special’.

From his point of view, Kenma could see over the entire festival lit up in all its various colours and bustling from all the people. He feels Kuro removing the mask and brushing his hand through his hair, so he remains still as he lets his eyes wander around to take in the sight of the festival from above. He can make out the takoyaki stall and the candied apple stall, and even the game stall his aunt and uncle are running if he squints.

“It’s really nice here,” Kenma says, and he’s only mildly sad that he isn’t too big on photography. He’s sure his dad would have loved taking all sorts of photos up here with their view. 

Kuro chuckles and continues running his hands through his hair. He feels Kuro brush the strands together and then there’s a flapping sound before Kenma feels cool air against the back of his neck. He hears the swish of Kuro’s paper fan and hums in appreciation as he starts to cool down a little. 

“It is a nice spot, right? I found it a while ago but haven’t been here in a while, I’m surprised that it’s still undisturbed” Kuro comments. Kenma wants to add that it might be because it takes too much work to get up here in the first place, but he remains quiet. He hears the flap again and then feels Kuro’s hand run through his hair one more time. There’s a small tug and then he hears Kuro make a satisfied sound from behind him. 

Kenma doesn’t know if Kuro purposefully left a couple strands of hair in front of his face or not, but he appreciates it either way. “Thanks Kuro.”

Kuro beams down at him and Kenma finds himself smiling along as well. Kuro also hands him his mask, and Kenma adjusts it back onto the side of his head like how Kuro had done for him earlier.

“By the way, I’m proud of you, Kenma.”

“Huh?”

Kuro walks over to sit by a tree overlooking the festival and then pats the spot next to him. Kenma takes a seat next to him with his knees tucked to his chest. 

“I mean, I’m proud that you’re putting yourself out there, you know? It’s pretty scary starting something new all by yourself.” 

Kenma thinks that Kuro might be looking over the festival, but he isn't sure, not with his mask on. He briefly wonders if Kuro was speaking from his own experiences. He turns to rest his chin on his knees, and notices how the people seem to have shifted to the side.

“What’s happening over there?” he asks. 

 Kuro makes a shocked sound, and Kenma spares him half a glance.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what happens at the end of festivals?” Kuro asks him back, sounding affronted that he even had to ask. 

Kenma makes a face at him. “Of course I know about the fireworks. I just didn’t think that it was the time for it already.”

“Yeah well-” Kuro doesn’t manage to finish his sentence, as he is cut off by a loud fizz and a bang, before the distant sound of cheering could be heard. 

The sky erupts in sparkles of colour and Kenma is mesmerised. He remembers being scared of fireworks before, but he has come to like the constant sound of them being fired off, as well as the way they would paint the sky in colours as the world stopped and stared. 

By the end of it, Kenma feels like he can still hear the fireworks exploding and he’s sure that he can see bursts of colours behind his eyes each time he closes them. 

“That was really nice, right? I feel like they went all out this year.” Kuro says, and Kenma nods his head in agreement. “Maybe it’s because they knew our Kenma-kun will be here this year.”

Kenma scrunches his nose and gives him a shove, but doesn’t try to hide his smile as Kuro makes a big show of dramatically falling over. 

“You wound me Kenma.”

Kuro jumps back onto his feet and dusts himself off, before stretching his hand out for Kenma. "Shall we head back or do you want to stay here for a bit longer?"

Kenma thinks about the long walk back and grimaces. He then thinks about staying here for longer and having to walk down the hill later when he would be even more tired and grimaces again. "Let's go back now," he decides as he takes the hand offered to him.

Kuro pulls him up in one swift motion and then Kenma is dusting off his own yukata. He gazes over the festival one last time, soaking in the view as much as possible before turning back around. "You should take me here again next time."

Kuro hums and starts walking slowly, to let Kenma put on his geta again and catch up with him. The walk back feels just as long, if not longer than the walk towards the hill and it's not until they're halfway back that Kenma realises he has left his pouch behind.

"Crap," Kenma mutters, abruptly stopping in his tracks. Kuro makes a curious sound and Kenma looks at him in both panic and exasperation. "I forgot my pouch on the hill."

Kuro's mouth drops and Kenma mentally prepares for the nagging that he was sure would follow, but Kuro remains silent. A warm breeze picks up and Kenma already dreads the walk back up the hill. He mentally reprimands himself for being so careless, and if it were anything else, he would have just left it there. But he can't lose his PSP and phone, he wouldn't survive without them.

“I’ll go get it quickly while you wait here,” Kuro suggests quickly. “It’ll be faster that way.”

Kenma wants to disagree, but he knows that Kuro was right. Still, he’s not sure how he feels about being left alone in the forest at night. Kuro must sense his hesitation, because he is quick to ruffle Kenma’s hair and give him a reassuring smile. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you can even miss me,” he says teasingly, and Kenma regrets thinking that he didn’t want to be left alone before. 

“Sure whatever, I’ll wait here,” he says as he walks over to sit on a fallen over tree stump. Kuro beams at him, and then he is gone in a flash. Kenma blinks back his shock. It sometimes slips his mind that Kuro was very much yokai , and could very much do yokai things. He wonders what other things Kuro could do.

He lets out a sigh, and only then realises how quiet it has become without the crowds of the festival. There’s the light sound of cicadas buzzing in the distance and the ruffle of leaves as the occasional breeze passes, but otherwise everything is quiet. While Kenma generally isn’t one for noise, this silence is unsettling and oddly uncomfortable in ways he doesn’t know how to describe. He hopes that Kuro would return quickly.

“H-ey b-oy,” a croaky voice calls, and Kenma whips his head around to try and find the source. 

“O-ver h-ere,” the voice calls again, and Kenma squints his eyes to look behind the large tree the voice seems to come from. 

He takes tentative steps closer to the tree and narrows his eyes into the darkness. He wishes more than ever that he had his phone on him now. Upon closer inspection, he notices two glossy eye-like things on the tree, and when the voice calls out again, Kenma can see the row of bark-like teeth underneath. Kenma tries not to let his revulsion show on his face, but he’s not sure how well that goes when the mouth opens up wider to reveal more sets of misshapen teeth.

“W-on’t you be a d-ear and h-elp this p-oor t-ree out,” the tree says as it stretches a small branch out towards him. “H-ere, t-ake my b-aby and p-lant him s-omewhere nice p-lease.”

The leaves of the branch shift away to reveal a small seedling sitting on top of what Kenma supposes was the palm of the tree yokai’s hand. He looks up at it’s face again, and see’s it crying pitiful tears of tree sap? Kenma doesn’t know whether the wet looking thing trickling from its eyes was water or tree sap, and he’s not too keen on finding out. 

The tree is making more pitiful crying noises and Kenma cringes at being put on the spot. He’s never been too fond of crying children, let alone trees that cry. He briefly wonders what was taking Kuro so long. 

The branch moves a bit, as if urging Kenma to take the seed, and the tree yokai starts to bawl a bit harsher, the sound more threatening than pitiful now. Kenma’s not sure what to do, but he knows that he wants the sound to stop so that he can go back to waiting for Kuro in peace, so he reaches out for it. He’s not sure if these are what people consider gut feelings, but something in him screams to turn around and run away from the tree. Kenma feels a shiver run up his spine and the arms on his hair stand up, the closer he gets to the seed, and stops himself just centimetres away from it. 

“Wh-at’s w-rong b-oy?,” the tree asks again, shaking its branch more incessantly. Something seems to rumble from the ground, like a large truck passing by, and then it grows stronger and stronger. When Kenma looks back at the face of the tree, its meek expression has been replaced by something more sinister and menacing. 

Kenma takes a step back, and finds his back meeting a wall of roots and leaves, where it had been open air just seconds ago. He can still make out the other side through the gap of the roots, but notices how it’s quickly growing and thickening all around them. 

“What’s wrong boy? Won’t you help a poor tree out?” The voice is darker this time, frightening and seemingly coming from all around him. The tree has also grown larger and stronger from before, and Kenma can feel his heart pounding against his chest. 

The branch holding the seed is in front of him again and inching closer and closer towards him. Kenma clenches his hands to his side and turns his head away from the branch, leaning as far away as he can get from the branch whilst holding his breath. His mind flies to Kuro. Didn’t he say that Kenma had nothing to be afraid of? That he would be there to protect him? That he would be back before Kenma could even miss him? Well Kenma misses him a lot now, more than he ever has, even back in Tokyo. 

“Oh, what do we have here?” 

Kenma feels relief wash over him at the sound of his voice and looks up to see Kuro floating in the air above them, with his fan held up in front of him and Kenma’s bag hanging from his left elbow. 

“Well why don’t you let me join in on the fun as well?” He drawls out cheerily, but even without seeing his eyes, Kenma could tell that Kuro was anything but cheery at the moment. Kenma watches as Kuro folds his fan close again and slowly lowers it to aim right at the tree yokai. 

"What do you thi-" 

The tree yokai doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence, as a beam of dark red light is pointed right in between its eyes and then it disappears into a puff of black smoke. Kenma stumbles as the wall of roots disappear into smoke behind him as well, and then suddenly it's quiet again, as if the tree yokai was never there to begin with. 

Kuro floats down in front of Kenma with a step and Kenma lets out a sigh of relief. 

"You okay?," Kuro asks whilst holding his arms open, and Kenma takes half a step before letting himself fall into his embrace. Kuro wraps one arm around him, and uses the other to card through his loosened hair. 

Kenma nods his head against Kuro's chest and lets out another sigh. 

"You must've been scared, right?" 

Kenma nods again. 

Kuro makes a small cooing sound, and caresses his head more. He feels Kuro’s hand smooth down his hair and then stroke up against his head again. Kenma frowns, but remains still in his arms until he feels it again. Kuro is petting down his hair, and then up again. Down and then up. 

“Kuro,” Kenma complains, as he pulls himself away from him. “You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?”

“It seems like I’ve been caught,” Kuro says as he laughs sheepishly with his hands up in the air, and Kenma sends him a glare as he tries to smooth his hair out again. Kenma walks over to the tree trunk he was originally at, and lets himself drop into a seat. He feels like his mind and body are lagging behind in trying to process the encounter from before. Kuro kneels down in front of him until they’re face-to-face and gives him a small smile.

“Sorry that I came so late,” Kuro apologises as he takes Kenma’s hands into his own. “Some of the smaller ones took your bag and were pretty interested in that thing you always play on.” 

“My PSP?”

“Yeah, that. So it took a bit of convincing, but I ended up getting it back for you,” Kuro says proudly as he lets go with one hand and shakes his arm to get a hold of the bag. He ends up placing it on the trunk next to Kenma before taking his hand back into his.

“What was it trying to give me?”

“Oh that?,” Kenma watches as Kuro’s lips turn down into a frown and he imagines him narrowing his eyes. “That’s how he catches his prey. Once you touch the seed, it’ll latch onto you and start using you to feed and grow itself.”

Kenma pales at the thought.

“Pretty gross, right?” Kuro snickers.

“It normally targets animals, but I think you’ve probably developed a more noticeable aura by being around me all the time,” Kuro explains as he lets go of his hands and sits back on his heels. He gives a small smile, but Kenma notices the clenching of his jaw and the way his smile comes out strained.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I was careless to leave you alone like that.”

Kenma shakes his head. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

Despite Kuro’s reasoning, Kenma doesn’t blame him. It wasn’t Kuro who had tried to attack him, so he shouldn’t be the one apologising. 

Kuro lets out a loud sigh. “This shouldn’t have happened in the first place...Wait, here take this.” 

Kenma watches Kuro untie the string bracelet around his wrist. It’s thin and plain black, and looks like it is made out of leather. Kuro has worn the bracelet since the first day Kenma has met him, so he has never put much thought to it. He doesn’t question Kuro’s request for him to keep the bracelet, he trusts him wholeheartedly. Kuro holds his hand out expectantly, so Kenma lifts his own one for him to hold.

Kuro wraps the bracelet around his wrist once, and then twice before tying it securely at the bottom of his wrist. Kenma looks down at him tenderly cradling his hand, all whilst caressing his thumb over the skin of his wrist and feels heat burst across his cheeks. Kuro brings Kenma’s hand close to his own face, close enough for him to feel the hot puffs of Kuro’s breath against his skin, and Kenma feels goosebumps erupt all over his arm. He can see Kuro hesitate, a centimetre of space between his face and Kenma’s palm, so he takes it upon himself to close the contact, pressing his palm against the warmth of his face. A smile breaks out on Kuro’s face and he nuzzles his cheek against it, moving his hand up further until he engulfs Kenma’s into his own.

Kuro’s skin is soft underneath his touch. Soft and warm and so human-like, that if Kenma were to close his eyes, he could pretend that Kuro weren’t a yokai. Kenma snaps his eyes back open at the ghost of Kuro’s lips brushing against his skin. He can’t tell for sure, but he thinks of Kuro looking at him through the mask, meeting his gaze, the both of them conveying feelings that words couldn’t. He dips his head, feeling the thump, thump, thump of his pulse beating underneath his skin as if trying to break out, and hopes that Kuro isn’t able to feel it. 

As if it were happening in slow motion, Kenma watches Kuro turn his head ever so slightly to plant a gentle kiss against his wrist, right above his pulsepoint.  

“Now I’ll always be able to protect you.”

( A whisper against his wrist, a promise on his heart.)

Kenma’s breath catches in his throat and he feels his heart hammering against his chest. He doesn’t need to see to know that there's a furious blush donning his cheeks right now. He instinctively looks towards the floor, letting strands of hair fall from his pony-tail and in front of his face. He tries not to think of Kuro’s heavy gaze behind the mask. 

“Kuro,” Kenma whispers, leaning closer to the warmth of the other. Kenma thinks that Kuro’s gaze is like a feather, brushing softly against his face in small strokes. 

He hears Kuro suck in a breath, and then he rips himself away as if scalded by fire. He cards his hand through his hair and laughs awkwardly. 

“W-we should probably head back soon, it’s getting late,” he says after clearing his throat.

Kenma nods his head, but can’t stop his mind from spiraling. Did he read the situation wrong? Kenma knows that compared to others his age, he’s rather inexperienced in - in what even was that? Kenma scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. Why did he feel the need to be closer to Kuro? Why was his heartbeat picking up speed when recalling the soft brush of Kuro’s lips on his skin?

“Kenma?”

Kenma snaps himself out of his thoughts at the sound of Kuro’s voice. 

“I- Yeah, I’m good, sorry,” Kenma apologises with a small smile, and Kuro returns one of his own. 

“Shall we go?,” Kuro asks with an extended hand, and Kenma doesn’t hesitate as he takes the offered hand with a hum. Kuro squeezes their hands together and Kenma squeezes them back. 

(“ I’m sorry. ”) 

(“ Don’t be, it’s alright. ”)