Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“It's like just before dark, jump in the car

Buy an ice cream and see how far

We can drive before it melts kinda feeling

That's how your love makes me feel inside”

- How You Love Makes Me Feel, Diamond Rio

“You’re such a sap, you know that, right?” Kenma asked with a laugh.

“I’m not a sap, it’s objectively interesting,” Kuroo countered, as they stepped off the train.

“Forgive me if I believe the science-obsessed sap doesn’t have an unbiased opinion on the neuroscience of soulmate colors,” he retorted.

“Correlation does not equal causation,” he clicked disapprovingly, “You don’t think it’s overwhelmingly cool that some abstract concepts of love and soulmates leads to a biological change in visual ability?”

“I mean, I guess it’s sort of interesting, but I’m not going to get an advanced degree in neuroscience to study it, because I am not a science-obsessed sap. Wait you know all about it, right?” Kenma asked, putting away his phone.

“Well, of course I do. Why? Feeling romantic?” he responded, comically waggling his eyebrows.

“No, I am not. I was wondering if it was really early for Akaashi and Bokuto. They’re our age. I know people talk about being able to see colors for the first time as this huge important event that effects the rest of our lives, but Akaashi is a first year in high school. Doesn’t that seem early?” Kenma pondered.

“Well, it’s not the earliest by a wide margin, but it is pretty early. Most people experience it between seventeen and twenty. It’s not uncommon for it to happen during high school, but logistically, not everyone is going to have already met their soulmate by high school. Think of how few people we see every day. One of them would have to be your soulmate for you to see colors before high school ends. Plus, some people have known their soulmates for a very long time and only experience the colors due to some random event. That’s what I want to study!” he excitedly prattled on.

“I suppose that’s a fair point. I’ve heard a lot of the games I play will be way cooler when I have the ability to see more than just different shades of grey.”

“Kenma, to be clear here, you’re excited to meet your destined soulmate, the love of your life, so that video games will be more fun for you?” Kuroo asked, unable to hide his smile.

“I mean, yes?” he responded awkwardly.

“You’re such a romantic,” Kuroo laughed, ruffling his hair, “Have you figured out what you wanna do yet for a job?”

“In a crazy dream world, I would love to be a streamer and a professional gamer, but more realistically, I think I would like to go into video game design. I know it’s brutal work, but I think it’d be cool,” he answered honestly.

“I think that’s a perfect answer. I also think that you should try streaming.”

“Streaming, when? And with what fanbase?” Kenma said, brushing the idea off.

“Now? Whenever? Whoever will listen? Even if it’s nobody, you could still practice streaming and stuff or post a video online or something? Kuroo insisted.

“I’ll think about it,” Kenma said, mostly not meaning it.

“I wanna ruin our friendship

We should be lovers instead

I don't know how to say this

'Cause you're really my dearest friend”

-Jenny, Studio Killers

Kuroo reached his arms up in a big stretch when they turned onto their street. They’d been out late and he was tired.

“You know, Kuro,” Kenma started softly.

“What’s up?” Kuroo asked through a yawn.

“Well, I know it was a while ago now, but do you remember when you said I should start streaming?”

“Yeah, and I still think so. Do you want help setting up your accounts?” he asked.

“Actually,” he said quietly with a shy smile, “I had thirty people watch me stream yesterday.”

That’s when it happened. He stopped in his tracks. It was quick and fast. It was disorienting in the most incredible way. Even though it was nighttime, Kuroo was thrilled to see the amount of colors surrounding him. It was unbelievable. He’d of course known that Kenma’s eyes were golden and that their tracksuits were red, but he didn’t know what it meant for something to be golden or red. Kenma’s eyes were the color of taking a nap in the sun, and his jacket was the color of adrenaline. It’s impossible to imagine colors you cannot see and even though it had only been seconds, Kuroo couldn’t believe that he’d spent his entire life not being able to see that the sign on the bakery they loved looked like how a soft blanket feels like. He made a mental note to figure out what that color was. He loved it.

He threw his arms around his friend, no- his soulmate, in pure, effusive joy. He picked Kenma up and swung him around. He couldn’t stop smiling.

He let go of Kenma just long enough to say, “I’m so glad it’s you!”

The look in Kenma’ golden eyes made the hair raise on the back of his neck. Kenma stared at him, open mouthed, in desperation. He spoke in a very low tone, “Did it just happen for you?”

“Yeah of course it did, I can’t believe it took us this long to find out! Your eyes are unbelievably cool. You need to open your front camera,” he said with a cheesy grin.

He watched Kenma squeeze his eyes shut and put his face in his hands.

“Kenma, what’s wrong? Am I too much? I’ll tone it down if you want? I’m just, this is so awesome!” Kuroo asked, gently grabbing Kenma’s arm.

Kenma slowly lowered his arms. Took a deep breath in. A deep breath out, still not opening his eyes, “It- uh- Kuro- I uh-“

Kuroo could feel the fear enter his body, “Kenma, what’s wrong?”

Kenma, now staring at the ground, said quietly, “I’m so sorry. It didn’t happen for me.”

Kuroo froze. He’s read enough studies on this to know the odds on what happened, “Please. Please, no. Please.”

“Kuro, I’m sorry. Is there a way to fix this? Something you’ve read? If someone would know what happened it’d be you,” he asked desperately.

Kuroo took a moment to gather himself, “There are three options. The first one is that you have a medical issue. The second is that your soulmate isn’t me. The third is that you don’t have one at all.”

“None of those answers are okay,” Kenma responded, devastated.

“If it makes you feel any better, they’ll be able to tell you pretty much right away if it’s a medical issue, plus, if it is, then at least you found out something is wrong sooner than later,” he said trying to be optimistic.

“What are the odds of that?” Kenma somehow managed to ask even though he felt like his throat was entirely closed.

“Not good,” Kuroo responded honestly.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Well, you should see a doctor. You should talk to your mom. Do you want me to come talk to her too?” Kuroo asked, trying to keep his tone light.

“I think I’d rather do it alone. I’m sorry for all of this,” Kenma said.

“Don’t be sorry over something you can’t control. I’m sure you’ll see the doctor and everything will be fine. Plenty of people are born naturally colorblind, so they would never notice if it happened. Maybe that’s your case,” he said firmly.

“Good god, I hope so.”

“You could be a happy bride and we could still be blissfully in love

Instead of being 25 and already feeling like you have had enough

You could be my one regret, infinitely spiraling me down

Sometimes the world feels loud

Heavy as the setting sun

Oh, I'm counting all the numbers between zero and one”

-&Run, Sir Sly

Kuroo was on the longest run of his life. He was hoping that intense physical activity would be able to drown out his mind. No matter how hard his lungs burned in his chest, he could still feel the overwhelming sensation of crushing worry overcome him. He knew the exact odds of what was happening and they weren’t good for him. Most likely Kenma had a different soulmate. That made up the vast majority of the cases. Then it’s possible he had something wrong, like color blindness, or something worse like a brain tumor. Kuroo insisted no author of life would be cruel enough to have them be soulmates and then lose each other so quickly.

He had to stop for a minute, his legs screaming, and his lungs fighting for air. Last night he had loved seeing the different colors, but now they just made him angry. He didn’t need a reminder that he was probably about to enter a living hell. He knew the numbers. He was betting on a really small chance here, but he had too. Miracles happen all of the time. It’d be fine. Kenma would come back to him with some benign diagnosis and they would start the rest of their lives together. It’d all be fine.

He knew it would be hours until he got to see Kenma again. His appointment would have just started and he was a few hours away. His mom took him to one of the more well known doctors who specialized in this kind of thing. Kuroo knew his work and trusted him. Nevertheless, he needed to distract himself while waiting for his miracle.

He tried suffocating the thoughts by running until he was out of breath. He tried drowning out the thoughts by playing his music so loud into his headphones that he surely was sustaining hearing damage. He tried forcing them out by distracting himself with a difficult homework assignment. He tried lessening them by trying to meditate.

He didn’t win. In the hours it took for Kenma to call him, he spent most of the time wallowing in his own anxiety.

“Remember once upon a time, when I was yours and you were blind

The fire would sparkle in your eyes and mine

So tell me you love me, if you don't then lie, oh lie to me”

-True Love, Coldplay

Even though Kuroo had checked to make sure his phone volume was up and his notifications weren’t on do not disturb, he was still somewhat shocked when it rang. All of the anxiety that had been building to this moment had somehow left him calm. His mind was cleared as he answered the phone.

“Kuro,” Kenma started.

“Kenma, please,” he said, the calmness leaving his mind as soon as he heard the tone of Kenma’s voice, “Please tell me you’re okay.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.

“I’m medically fine,” he said slowly.

Kuroo felt his heart shatter. Who would have thought that hearing his friend was perfectly healthy would be so hard for him?”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said quietly.

“Kuro, I’m so sorry. If anyone deserved to have the perfect soulmate, it’d be you. It’s so unfair,” Kenma said.

“I uh, well, can you come over when you get home?” Kuroo asked, holding back tears.

“Of course I will. I’ll let you know when I’m almost back,” he said, trying his best to be reassuring.

Kuroo nodded, and then realized Kenma couldn’t hear him.

“I’ll be here,” he squeaked out.

As the phone call ended, he pulled open his laptop. Tears streaming down his face, he read article after article confirming what he already knew. Kenma was his soulmate, but he wasn’t Kenma’s. How unbelievably cruel, he decided. He debated whether soulmate was even the proper word if it was possible for soulmates not to match up. He found that there were meetups for people this happened to, that they get together and support each other and often get married. The thought made him sick. He didn’t want to be discarded in to the pot of people who didn’t belong.

What would he do? What could he do? He abandoned his research for a pillow instead. He cried silently begging for the sleep that came to take him away from this reality for a few hours.

“Here I am staring at your perfection

In my arms, so beautiful

The sky is getting bright, the stars are burning out

Somebody slow it down

This is way too hard

'Cause I know, when the sun comes up

I will leave, this is my last glance

That will soon be memory”

-Daylight, Maroon V

Kuroo slept soundly, dreamlessly, until a hand in his hair woke him up.

“Hey,” Kenma said softly, “We should probably talk.”

Kuroo rubbed his eyes, disoriented. For a second, he had forgotten what had happened, but it all came rushing back.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, slowly sitting up and moving over to one side of the bed.

Kenma handed him a drink and sat across from him.

“I hate that those words are the first ones you chose to use, you know that? You know what this means and you don’t deserve it. Don’t feel the need to be glad I’m okay. Be mad I’m okay. I’ll forgive you, I promise,” Kenma said slowly.

Kuroo took a sip of the too hot decaf coffee Kenma brought him. It was his favorite, but right now it only tasted like boiled tears.

“But I am glad you’re okay. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you,” he said, trying to feign nonchalance.

“That’s fine. I’ll be mad enough for the both of us then. Have you thought of what you want us to do about it?” Kenma asked, looking up at his friend.

“I really still want to be friends Kenma. I don’t think I want to live life without you,” he said, crying once more.

“Christ Kuro, you can’t get rid of me that easily. Of course we will still be friends. That’s not what I was saying at all,” he said putting his hand on Kuroo’s ankle.

“What are you saying then?”

“I mean, do you want to give this a chance? We could give it a go. I’m okay with that,” Kenma started.

“I assume the doctor told you what this means,” Kuroo said.

“Well, yes, but-“

“Then you know that by far the most likely option is that you have a soulmate out there for you.”

“Yes, I do know that, but if you wanted to, we could try to be together. Maybe I don’t have a soulmate at all and this would work for both of us? Or maybe I won’t find them until I’m fifty anyway. It could be worth a try,” he insisted.

Kuroo sat in silence for a long time as he thought about what that meant. For a brief second, he wondered if Kenma lied about being healthy, but why would he do that? He decided he needed to take an analytical approach to this. He thought through everything he knew about the neuroscience of soulmates. Everything he knew said being with Kenma wouldn’t work out.

“We can’t,” he said, trying to choose the logical choice.

“Sure we could-“ Kenma started, but was cut off.

“Until you find your actual soulmate. You’re in your second year of high school now. The odds you find one within the next three years are really high. So sure, I could live the perfect relationship I’ve always dreamed with my soulmate, for them to leave me for someone else as soon as tomorrow,” he said, his hands clenching in anger.

Why him? He thought it over and over. Why him?

“You know, maybe I wouldn’t have to-“

“No. Kenma. No. You will not choose me over your soulmate. You will be happy with them. You will. I forbid you from even considering that,” he said, trying not to let the anger into his tone.

“But what about until then?” Kenma asked, calmly.

“I can’t do it. I would rather never have loved than to have loved and lost,” he said, disagreeing with a certain poet, “I couldn’t handle losing you.”

“Are you sure? I’ll be okay if you change your mind, but until then we’re still best friends, you know that? I won’t lie and say that nothing has changed, because it has, but as long as you’ll have me around, we will be best friends,” Kenma assured.

“You said you’d be okay if I changed my mind?” Kuroo asked quietly.

“Yes. Without a doubt,” Kenma replied.

“Then I change my mind for tonight. I want to be yours tonight, and then in the morning, I’ll be done. Is that okay?”

“Kuro, it’s past midnight,” he said.

“I know, which is why you’re going to sleep with me tonight,” he said, his sadness unmistakable on his face.

“Oh, uh, I am uh-“ Kenma started.

“Oh gosh,” Kuroo said seeing Kenma’s face, correcting himself, embarrassed, “I’m sorry. I’m tired. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant literally. Like, I want you to sleep here, in this bed, if you’re okay with that I mean.”

“Oh, of course,” Kenma said peeling off his sweatshirt and jeans, discarding them onto the floor and sliding himself next to Kuroo.

“I don’t need anything else but that, and I promise, in the morning, we’ll be done, and then we can go back to being best friends, okay?” Kuroo asked.

“Of course,” Kenma replied.

Kuroo set his almost full coffee on the floor and moved over to give Kenma more room. He focused on his breathing, trying to slow it. He went to lay on his stomach, but Kenma gently stopped him. He gently nestled himself into Kuroo’s chest between his arms.

Kuroo hoped Kenma couldn’t feel him silently cry. Having Kenma in his arms was the best thing he had ever felt, and it would break his heart even more to let him go in the morning.

“And I don't cry for yesterday

There's an ordinary world

Somehow I have to find

And as I try to make my way

To the ordinary world

I will learn to survive”

-Ordinary World, Duran Duran (For a Kuroo with color, listen to Red’s cover. For a Kenma without color, listen to the original by Duran Duran.)

Kuroo took the first day of the upcoming week off, citing nausea. It wasn’t entirely a lie. Kuroo made Kenma promise not to tell anyone. Somehow the thought that even just Kenma’s parents knew was deeply horrifying. He wanted to hide it deep within himself, to pretend it didn’t happen, but he couldn’t do that if other people knew. He knew. Kenma knew. Kenma’s parents knew.

“Welcome back, captain! I do hope you’re feeling better. Can I have you come talk to me after you change?” Coach Nekomata asked in his typical half-enthusiastic tone.

Kuroo changed quickly. He’d done everything quickly that day. If he rushed through everything and gave himself and endless amount of tasks, he wouldn’t have time to think, to feel, or to cry. He made his way to Coach Nekomata who was quietly waiting by himself in the hallway.

“Coach, I’m sorry I missed yesterday-“ Kuroo started as he walked down the hallway towards him.

“Don’t bother, it’s okay. Come walk with me.”

Kuroo stared, suspiciously, but followed behind his coach.

“So, Kuroo-kun, tell me, what’s your favorite color of things so far? I’m dying to know,” he said.

“How did you know? Who told you?” he asked, horrified. Had Kenma told him? Who had Kenma told?

Coach laughed, “I saw you staring in awe at the volleyballs. I figured you’d spent enough time with them to no longer be in awe of them.”

“They are not what I was expecting, sir,” he replied honestly.

“So, what’s something that you found pretty, or awesome, or even surprising?” his coach asked.

Kuroo’s first answer, that he was infatuated with Kenma’s golden eyes, was one that he discarded. He gave his second answer, “The bakery by my house has a light purple sign on it. It’s such a fulfilling color. Feels safe, if that makes sense.”

“It does make sense. Mine was that I hated the color of my bedroom. It was this awful burnt orange color,” he said with a laugh.

Kuroo smiled gently. He actually really enjoyed the dark green color his room was painted and thankful for it.

“Forgive me for being presumptuous,” Coach Nekomata started, “But I assume I now have two players who can see in full color?”

Kuroo stopped dead in his tracks. He thought he had made it though the conversation and was in the clear. He did everything he could to not break down, but it wasn’t enough. The tears streamed down his face that was red from embarrassment. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than this moment.

“Sorry, I uh-,” he choked out.

“No, don’t be sorry. This is clearly my fault. I am the one who needs to be sorry. It was inappropriate for me to ask,” Coach responded equal parts solemn and regretful.

“I really wanted him to see his own eyes,” Kuroo said quietly, not knowing why he said it, “But he can’t. At least not until he finds the right one for him.”

By the time he finished saying it, he was embarrassed and wished he could take it back. He wished he could take it all back. Why couldn’t he have just lied and said it was some girl at a coffee shop or something?

“Go home and don’t come tomorrow either. These things take years to heal. You certainly won’t be healed in three days, but maybe you’ll be able to be more productive then. And if not, then don’t come then either, but I won’t let you back on this court until at least Thursday. I’ll tell the team I sent you away to do administrative business for me and that I don’t know when you’ll be finished. Please go eat something, and really feel your sorrow. Pretending it’s there isn’t going to help. You have to let it all out, or it will find its way out in ways you don’t want,” he said calmly.

“We agreed not to tell anyone,” Kuroo said, regretting how weak his voice sounded.

“Your secret is safe with me. You know where to find me if you need to talk. I’ll go wrangle the others so you can sneak out,” he said with a tone of finality and walked out.

Kuroo stood there for a long time in silence. For a long time the only people who knew were Kenma, Kenma’s parents, the medical staff Kenma saw, Coach Nekomata, and then a few weeks later he drunkenly confessed his woes to Bokuto and Akaashi. He didn’t want to, but he needed someone his own age that understood. He regretted it in the morning, but they all promised to keep his secret.

“Singing out, I never meant to cause you trouble

And I, I never meant to do you wrong

And I, well, if I ever caused you trouble

Oh, no, I never meant to do you harm,”

-Trouble, Coldplay

The second he was taken off the court, Kenma went to go give him his iPad. It brought Kuroo a lot of joy to know that Kenma made a friend that he really cared about, even if he did just spent the better part of the morning launching an incredibly detailed attack meant specifically to destroy that friend. Sure, Hinata and Kenma didn’t have a normal friendship, but that was fine. Kenma wasn’t a normal person.

The game went on and on without Hinata and Kenma hadn’t come back.

“My Kenma sensor is going off, he’s been gone too long and probably got lost again. I’ll be back,” he said waving to his teammates.

Kuroo had been friends with Kenma long enough to be used to the fact that Kenma was a professional at wandering off and getting himself lost. The year Kuroo was in high school and Kenma was still in middle school, Kenma had gotten off at the wrong stop on the train multiple times on his way to the school even though he had been going there for three years by then. He just got lost often. Kuroo never considered this in a judgmental way, just a factual way. Sometimes he’d have to go look for his best friend. It was just what he did. This was expected.

What he didn’t expect, was to see his friend sitting against a wall with his knees to his chest and his hood pulled over his face.

“Kyanma, everything good? You’re missing the game,” Kuroo called out.

Kenma didn’t respond. He figured this was a fairly regular case of panic. Sometimes when he was alone in big crowds, Kenma would panic, but thankfully it was pretty easy to get him out of that funk. It used to happen enough that they even had a code word that indicated to Kuroo that Kenma needed out of a situation, but lately it’d happened less and less.

“Kenma,” he said placing a hand on his shoulder and crouching down, “What can I do for you?”

Still not responding, Kenma took deep breaths. Kuroo pulled Kenma’s hood back to see that he had been crying, and crying hard. He sat down on the floor next to Kenma.

“Hey, what’s going on? I know you’re stressed for him, but he’ll be fine. Guarantee he learns from this and somehow develops even more stamina. He’s going to truly beat the whole world one day, you know that?” he said with a laugh.

“He’s being taken back to the hotel, but I was too distracted by how his really orange uniform perfectly matches his really orange hair to care,” Kenma said quietly.

The sentence hit Kuroo like a ton of bricks. He felt liked he was the one that was going to panic now.

“Kenma, you don’t mean?” Kuroo started hesitantly.

“I do. This was quite a place for it to happen too. There’s color everywhere. So much of it. So many different colors. It’s overwhelming. It’s unbearable,” Kenma said, too quietly, too quickly, and too pointedly.

“So you’re upset because this is a lot to take in? I get that. You should have seen me staring at the volleyballs the first day back,” he said, reassuringly.

“That’s not why I’m upset,” he choked out.

“Oh no. Kenma, did he not have the same? Wait, he’s really sick right now Kenma, don’t lose hope if he doesn’t. He probably will when he feels better. It’s common for things like that to happen. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Kuroo said honestly.

He knew the stats better than anyone, after all. He threw his arm around Kenma’s shoulders. “I’ll be here for you until he gets better, alright? I know it’s hard.”

“Kuro, stop talking,” Kenma said. He didn’t say it in a mean or rude or even joking way that he usually did. He meant it plainly, and Kuroo obliged.

Kenma took a breath to steady himself, “He already did. He saw them first, actually. It happened so fast. I thought it was his fever until I saw it too.”

Kuroo didn’t expect that. He couldn’t tell whether his heart was broken or if it was better. This hurt, bad, absolutely, but he was also glad that his best friend would have someone, and be happy with them. He was also glad that the waiting game ended. There were days where it was all he could do not to beg Kenma to be with him. That wouldn’t be an issue anymore. He would move on. Most of all, he was happy for Kenma. All he ever wanted was for Kenma to be happy.

“Then why are you so upset? This is the start of the coolest thing ever. You remember how you told me once that you wanted to see how different your video games looked? Now that we’re done with the tournament, you can go play for hours. It’ll be like playing your favorite games for the first time all over again.” Kuroo smiled, imagining his friend playing video games with wide eyes, taking in all of the color work.

“Don’t,” Kenma said.

“Don’t what?” Kuroo asked.

“Don’t act like this is all fine. It’s not all fine. This isn’t fair. It’s not okay. I was hoping that maybe I just wouldn’t have a soulmate, or maybe they wouldn’t have me back so that you didn’t have to do this alone, so stop. Stop consoling me. Be sad, be angry, hell even be jealous. Be jealous of Shouyou. Be jealous of me. Pick one. Pick both. But don’t sit here and act like this is a cheerful, happy, moment. It’s heartbreaking and you know it,” Kenma said.

“Well, since you want me to be upset, would you say that you owe me?” Kuroo asked calmly.

He debated whether or not to take his arm off of his friend’s shoulders but decided against it. Kenma would move him if he didn’t welcome the contact.

“I owe you everything. Are you kidding me? How could I not?” Kenma put his head into his hands.

“I don’t think you owe me for a second. It’s not something you could control, so why would I be mad at you, but if you insist that you owe me, you have to do two things for me, got it?” Kuroo said.

Kenma nodded in response.

“The first one is that I demand you go be happy. Maybe you don’t have to be happy right away, but soon, you should be happy. I want you to go on stupid dates, and hold hands, and call him sweetie pie or whatever, and share desserts and all that fun stuff. Nothing would make me happier than to see you happy,” Kuroo said, mostly meaning it. There was something that would make him happier, but it wasn’t possible, so it wasn’t worth discussing.

“I can’t,” Kenma said.

“You owe me, remember?” Kuroo said.

“The second thing?” Kenma asked.

“This is the hard one. You have to tell him. I don’t care if it’s today or in a few months, but ideally not longer than that. He needs to know and it’s wrong to hide it from him. If that means I don’t get to be around you as much, then so be it,” Kuroo said, less sincerely this time. Not getting to see Kenma would ruin him, but he had a feeling Shouyou wouldn’t feel that way, “He deserves to know the truth, but more than that, you deserve to not have to hide it from him. I know that’s not gonna be easy, but can you do those two things for me?”

“I can’t,” Kenma said.

“Can you promise me that you’ll try to do them?” Kuroo asked.

Instead of responding verbally, Kenma slid out from under Kuroo’s arm. He slipped his pinky finger around Kuroo’s. A silent promise.

“Late night watching TV

Used to be here beside me

Used to be your arms around me

Your body on my body

When the world means nothing to me

Another's arms

When the pain just rips right through me

Another's arms”

-Another’s Arms, Coldplay

After Kenma left his place, Kuroo finally started crying again. He was glad to hear that Kenma finally told his soulmate about him. It had taken him a bit over a month. He was really glad to hear that Kenma’s soulmate was unbelievably understanding, but out of all of these things, Kuroo had to admit, he was most glad to see the way Kenma beamed ear to ear when he saw that Shouyou had texted him.

Something that Kuroo had learned in his neuroscience reading habits, was that emotions like happy and sad probably aren’t on a continuum on either side of each other. Instead of one big slider, there are two little ones. This way you could either be happy or not happy but also sad or not sad. Kuroo had become intimately familiar with this concept. He was very happy to see Kenma happy and in love. He was also heartbroken that he wasn’t the one Kenma loved. Ever since the first night he got to see the beautiful gold color of Kenma’s eyes, it felt like someone had glued both of his happy and sad switches to their maximum value when it came to Kenma. Kenma made him infinitely happy, but also made him infinitely depressed. Seeing Kenma, talking about Kenma, or even thinking about Kenma always brings Kuroo a raging storm of emotions. At this point he simply accepted it. That’s how it was, and it’s how it always would be.

Kuroo cried a lot, something that was fair to say about him in general. Eventually he told his dad, meaning the number of people who knew had grown by at least two. Sometimes he wanted to bury the truth deep within him and sometimes he wanted to sing it from the rooftops. Another duality tearing him up.

Once he felt like he got most of his tears out (he discovered that there seems to be an endless amount he can produce, but he still felt like he could at least clear most of them out, which yes, is not how an infinity works, but that’s beside the point) he pulled open his laptop. He had two neuroscience program acceptances waiting for him. He responded to both that he has grateful for their offers, but he was going a different path. He decided he couldn’t spend his life surrounded by the thing that made him miserable. The irony that he became what he wanted to research as a child was not lost on him.

There was something however, that was what he loved. He accepted that offer. He would be riding the bench pretty much every single game, probably for the rest of his career, but he was offered a position in division one. The pay wasn’t great, he didn’t know any of the players, but hey, he got to do volleyball for a living. He was lucky. He wasn’t one of those people who put enough hours into it to deserve being on a division one team, but this one thing worked out for him. It would be a good change of pace, to throw himself into something physical.

He threw himself back into his bed and prayed he wouldn’t regret his decision in the morning. He sent a text to his soulmate, his best friend, he mentally corrected himself, that he accepted the volleyball offer and then launched his phone across the room. He had plans, he didn’t need his phone for them.

These plans involved sobbing into his pillow until he became so nauseous he couldn’t breathe, and then sleeping well, like really well.

“I know that there's others that deserve you

But my darlin', I am still in love with you

But I guess you look happier, you do

My friends told me one day I'll feel it too

I could try to smile to hide the truth

But I know I was happier with you”

-Happier, Ed Sheeran

It wasn’t that Kuroo hadn’t spent time with his own soulmate and his soulmate’s soulmate, but he hadn’t spent time with them alone. He was happy for them, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him want to curl up and die a little bit.

Apparently Kenma had told his now fiancé (when you find out you have a soulmate, it’s pretty typical to get married within a year) that Kuroo was going to play division one volleyball and Shouyou wanted to ask him about the process. Unfortunately, Kuroo wasn’t going to be much help, a single coach reached out to him. He didn’t even know why the coach contacted him, he surely didn’t deserve it, but he did anyway. Shouyou’s case would be entirely different.

“What is this?” Kuroo objected as he saw that Kenma had selected Rainbow Road four times to make a terrifying custom circuit in Mario Kart.

“Someone’s addicted to this course,” Shouyou said with a laugh.

“That’s real interesting,” Kuroo said as he got ready to focus, “Because I seem to recall someone saying that only shit players that weren’t skilled enough to beat players on other courses liked Rainbow Road because it gave them the ability to make their mediocre skills look like good ones.”

“Hmm, interesting theory you have there Kuro, but have you considered that the rainbows are cool looking?” Kenma asked as he spun him out off the course with a perfectly slung banana.

“You’re such an unrelenting bastard,” Kuroo pointed out as he waited for his character to be carried back to the course.

To nobody’s surprise, Kenma took first by a wide margin, Kuroo took second, quite far behind, and Shouyou just managed to avoid getting last place. Now they get to do it three more times.

Unsurprisingly, Kenma went undefeated. Kuroo managed to get two second place finishes and two third place finishes, and Shouyou was lucky enough to make it to fifth place once. It took seven or eight races (thankfully not more Rainbow Road) for Kuroo to finally win one.

“How did you do that?” Shouyou asked, “I wasn’t aware it was possible.”

Kuroo yawned and stretched his arms, “I’ve probably spent close to the same amount of time losing to Kenma at video games as I have playing volleyball and next week I start playing volleyball professionally. He gets cocky after awhile and slips up. It helps if you start goading him a bit.”

Shouyou laughed, “Maybe Kenma should play Mario Kart professionally.”

Kenma rolled his eyes and left for the kitchen but Kuroo responded thoughtfully, “Maybe not Mario Kart, but I think there are other games he could play professionally.”

He heard a quick snort from the kitchen followed by a “Only in my wildest dreams.”

“You’ll come with me, right?” Shouyou asked, quietly.

Kuroo looked at him confused.

“When he plays his first professional tournament?”

Kuroo smiled softly, “Absolutely I will.”

“Sunshine?” Kenma called from the kitchen, “We’re out of the orange juice for your screwdrivers, what do you want instead?”

Kuroo had been pretty fine with this entire situation (considering how bad it was). Kenma was happy. Shouyou treated him well, and Kuroo was obviously always happy to spend time with Kenma, yet this was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Kuroo couldn’t in any way disagree that Shouyou was sunshine incarnate, but something about hearing that broke him a little bit in a way he didn’t think he’d be broken. Something about how domestically he said it haunted Kuroo just a little bit. Nevertheless, he just put himself into the stereotypical gamer pose so that he could try to squeak another victory from Kenma before he excused himself to go home.

He was unsuccessful and complained about this as Kenma walked him to his car.

“I just wanted to let you know that this is difficult,” Kuroo said with a shrug as he got into his car.

“I know,” Kenma said with a shrug in return, “As always, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“Eh, I’m just happy to see you, and I don’t mean that in a gross piney way or anything, so don’t feel bad, but I’m thankful he doesn’t seem to mind me being around you,” Kuroo said with another shrug.

The two fell into this pattern quite a lot. If they dropped the whole nonchalant bit, they were afraid the horribleness of the situation would eat them alive, so they pretended the whole thing was no more distressing than picking out which candy they wanted at the movie theatre.

“No soulmate of mine would deny me your friendship,” Kenma said plainly.

Kuroo nodded. Kenma nodded. Neither of them knew what to say, so Kenma went back inside and, Kuroo began his drive back to his apartment.

The entire way home, the only thing he could think of was Kenma’s voice echoing the word sunshine over and over again.

“Do whatever you want

I don't care, I don't care

Don't even tell me

I don't really wanna know

Don't ask me how's my day's been

I just wanna be alone”

-Jealous, Eyedress

Kuroo was tired after his first week of practice on his new team and tossed the half full takeout container onto the side table in defeat. He was absolutely stuffed and nursing the rest of his beer. He looked over at Kenma and noticed he was focusing way too hard on the vapid show they were watching.

“Out with it,” Kuroo said.

“Out with what?” Kenma asked folding his arms.

“You’re about to hurt my feelings, aren’t you?” Kuroo asked, calmly, “I can see it on your face.”

Kenma just looked at him, silently.

“So what is it?”

Kenma stayed silent, then turned his attention back to the show.

“Fair enough I guess,” Kuroo responded, directing his attention back to the ridiculous show as well.

He let the frivolous entertainment fill his brain. He was at least thankful for volleyball for that exact reason. He wasn’t used to being the worst person on a team and it had been physically and mentally hard on him. He had to give his all every minute of practice just to keep up. This week they were working on receives. He couldn’t imagine how much more difficult it would be if he hadn’t gone to Nekoma. It was already plenty hard.

“I’m cutting my hair,” Kenma said quietly, just over the volume of the show.

Kuroo stretched as he yawned, “Oh? How short?”

“I think it’s all coming off,” he responded solemnly.

Kuroo was surprised, “You don’t seem excited.”

“I am excited. It’ll just be shorter than it’s been since I was probably five years old. I’m nervous I won’t like it,” Kenma said.

“I think it’ll be totally fine, and if not, it’s just hair. It grows back,” Kuroo pointed out.

“Yeah, but this is a lot of time to grow back,” he said gesturing at his hair that was a bit below shoulder length.

“I think change can be a good thing. I cant even imagine you with short hair, to be honest,” he said with a smile.

“I’m getting it done next week. I wanted to donate it, but too much of it is bleached.”

“You gonna bleach it when it’s short?” Kuroo asked, “This is weird, I know. I shouldn’t be asking. And you can say no. You probably should say no, actually, but can I braid it? I’ve always wanted to and now it’s going to be gone.”

Kenma thought carefully for a moment, then nodded. “Wait, you know how to braid?”

Kuroo nodded. Kenma quickly ran his hands though his hair and sat on the ground in front of Kuroo. He handed him a hair tie. Kuroo flipped the lamp on and started slowly braiding Kenma’s hair, making sure to precisely intertwine the pieces. He really wanted it to last forever. He enjoyed every minute of it. It was exactly as he’d imagined it many times. He resisted the urge to undo the entire thing and start over again, but he knew he was already crossing a line. He used the tie to hold the bottom of the braid together and tapped Kenma on the shoulder to indicate that he was finished.

Kenma silently flopped back onto the other side of the couch and Kuroo turned the lamp back off.

“Okay, I know this was entirely my fault, but we need to get back on topic,” Kenma said.

“Wait,” Kuroo said, confused, “Your hair the only thing we’ve been talking about.”

“So, how do I even say this?” Kenma pondered out loud.

“Ah, so you are planning on hurting my feelings after all. Just go for it, Kenma. I’m not used to you not bluntly spitting out whatever is on your mind,” he said it both seriously and as a joke.

Kuroo felt all of his muscles clench. Why did everything have to be so difficult? It wasn’t even just that he lost his soulmate, but it also felt like he lost his best friend. Sure he was still close to Kenma, but there’s no denying that their friendship had suffered, and how could it have not?

“Well, I thought a long time about this, and at first I couldn’t figure out how I could have the audacity to ask you this. Then, I couldn’t figure out how I could have the audacity to not ask you this. Essentially, I’m wading in an endless pool of audacity,” he rambled quietly.

Kuroo took a deep breath in and out and then closed his eyes. He leaned his head back against the couch. He was thankful he had turned the lamp off. He was hoping that maybe Kenma wouldn’t be able to get a good look at him.

“Audacity to ask me what?” he asked, hesitantly.

He really didn’t want to know, but it didn’t seem like he’d have a choice.

Kenma finally spit it out, “To be my best man.”

“How could you ask me-“ he started, “Oh. How could you not? I see the issue.”

Yup, absolutely. He couldn’t imagine anything more fun than being the best man at his soulmate’s wedding. He had considered it, whether or not he was even going to show up. He regularly wished that this nightmare would end, but as it turns out, it only gets worse. Maybe he should have stopped talking to Kenma and tried to date someone else who was thrown to the curb. Maybe that would have stopped him from feeling like his heart was broken in half. He didn’t know how often one could endure this amount of heartbreak, but he figured he hadn’t even seen the half of it.

“You absolutely do not have to. As a matter of fact, I assumed you wouldn’t,” he said.

“I don’t want to plan your wedding,” Kuroo responded staring at the ceiling.

It hit Kuroo in that moment that Kenma would be getting married during his last year of high school. Kuroo didn’t even know that Kenma was his soulmate until further into his third year.

“You won’t have to. That’s already being covered,” Kenma said, pained.

“Then what do I have to do?” Kuroo asked, trying to hold back tears.

“Stand with me, give a really embarrassing speech about me. There is a rehearsal the day before, but that’s about it.”

Kuroo didn’t bother hold the tears back. He silently cried. He was in agony. This was agonizing. This is what friends do. Friends are each other’s best man, and he was the one who insisted they were still going to be best friends. He could just not go. God knows Kenma would forgive him, or he could go and not be the best man, but why even go then? Or he could go to the reception and not the ceremony, but then that seemed weird too. Or he could just suck it up and go, but that was also awful, just being there. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to feel? Maybe he should go. Crowds make Kenma nervous. He was always there to help Kenma with the crowds. But, oh. Kenma wouldn’t be nervous. He would be excited. There’s no confusion, no anxiety, for him. He knows what he wants and he’s getting it. That’s how soulmates work. There’s no reason to wait until you’re older to get married if you know your relationship is going to work out perfectly.

He was going to speak to ask Kenma for more time, but he didn’t think more time would even help. He knew what his answer was. All of the options were terrible. He didn’t care. What was the point of choosing one misery over another.

“You know what? I don’t even care. Send me the dates and information or don’t. I’m going to bed,” he said not getting off the couch.

“Kuro,” Kenma started, “I didn’t think this was easy, but I didn’t expect you not to care.”

“Oh, now I get blunt Kenma. No. I don’t care. I know this is rude, but your wedding is going to make me die inside even more whether or not I am a part of it,” he said coldly.

“Will you at least tell me what you’d prefer?” Kenma asked quietly, “What would make it easier?”

“Who’s Hinata’s best man?” Kuroo choked out.

“Yachi,” Kenma responded.

That caught Kuroo off guard but he wasn’t going to say anything about it.

“And who at this wedding knows the truth?”

“Nobody that you aren’t already aware of,” Kenma responded gently.

“And who else are specifically your groomsmen?”

“None,” Kenma said.

“Of course,” Kuroo laughed through tears, “Of course.”

He’d reached his end. His option was to be the best man at his soulmate’s wedding or leave his soulmate without a single groomsman.

“Kuro- I don’t-“ Kenma started, confused.

“Expand your wedding party by one or two and I’ll do it, or don’t. It’s up to you.”

“Who?” Kenma asked.

“Bokuto. Akaashi. Either. Both. I don’t care,” he said.

“I’ll call them in the morning,” Kenma said with a nod.

“Good, now please leave,” Kuroo said.

“Kuro, please, I just-“

“Goodbye, Kenma. I’ll see you. Drive safe,” he said with a half effort wave. He wasn’t trying to be rude, but he couldn’t do this anymore. He needed to be alone.

Kenma looked like he was going to protest, but instead quietly nodded and walked out.

Kuroo dragged himself off the couch and took a steaming shower. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to hate Kenma. To be mad at Kenma. To be pissed. To yell. He wanted to want to punch something (not Kenma) and he wanted to want to break things, but he didn’t. Where there should have been anger, there was only emptiness.

He knew there was no point in being mad at Kenma for something that wasn’t his fault, especially with as helpful as Kenma always tried to be. What he should have been mad at was the universe, just life in general, but he wasn’t. In that moment, he was out of anger. Out of sadness. He was out of everything but overwhelming emptiness. He was too empty to even decide if it was better that way.

“When the evening falls

And I'm left there with my thoughts

And the image of you being with someone else

Well, that's eating me up inside

But we run our course, we pretend that we're okay

Now if we jump together at least we can swim

Far away from the wreck we made”

-Happier, Bastille and Marshmello

“As great of dates as you guys have been, I’m really not ready for a threesome right now, but honestly? I could be down eventually. I’m a bit too heartbroken at the moment, though,” he slurred as Bokuto pulled off his bowtie and started unbuttoning his button down for him.

“You’re not my type Kuroo-san,” Akaashi pointed out from across the room.

“Bro,” he said looking down at Bokuto, “I’m not Kenma’s type either.”

He dissolved into laughter, then he started crying.

He saw Akaashi and Bokuto exchange a glance. What? It was funny. He awkwardly flopped his button down off and launched it onto the floor.

“You need to go to sleep, now,” Akaashi said, calmly, but firmly.

“But I’m not tired!” he protested through a large yawn.

“What are you, five?” Akaashi asked, feeling bad about how pointed the question came out. He didn’t mean it like that.

“I’m 19!” he protested.

Bokuto snorted.

“Bokuto-san, please grab him something to change into. I’ll be in the front room,” Akaashi said as he walked out.

Bokuto walked over to the dresser and pulled out a shirt and a pair of shorts.

“Put these on,” he said handing them to Kuroo.

“I’m sorry, Bokuto, I simply am taller than you and will not fit into your clothes,” Kuroo insisted, grinning.

“You’re only a few centimeters taller, my dude. Come on,” he said, dragging Kuroo to the bathroom.

Kuroo shooed Bokuto out of the bathroom and did his best to change. It was a lot more difficult than he anticipated. Getting his belt off wasn’t as easy as it should have been. After only tipping over a few times, he gave himself an awkward smile in the mirror. Getting out of his clothes and into comfortable ones felt nice. He enjoyed the feeling of cool air on his legs.

He meandered out of the bathroom to see that he was now alone in the bedroom. Where had they gone? He felt like his brain was made out of slush. Oh, the living room.

“Howdy, guys!” he said walking into the living room where the two of them were sitting and talking in hushed tones. He flopped onto the open arm chair.

“Since you’re not tired, is there something you’d like to do?” Bokuto asked.

Kuroo took a minute to move the slush around in his brain, “Hmmm can I ask you guys something?”

Bokuto and Akaashi responded at the same time.

“Absolutely!” exclaimed Bokuto.

“Okay, I guess,” Akaashi responded hesitantly.

“Well, I was trying to do something nice but now I feel like it was a bad thing to do. I’m not feeling good about it. I was wondering if I did the wrong thing,” he said as he crinkled his nose, “And usually when you feel bad, it’s because you did the wrong thing.”

“I suppose that tends to be true,” Akaashi said, even more hesitantly.

“Well, what was it?” Bokuto asked.

“I dropped off a gift for Hinata today before the wedding ceremony. Well, for Hinata Shouyou, not Hinata Kenma. Man, I wanted to be a Kozume so fucking bad,” he said furrowing his eyebrows.

Akaashi and Bokuto both widened their eyes.

“Kuroo-san, what did you get him?” Akaashi asked, concerned.

“Well,” he said, “I gave him a small notebook of stuff I thought he needed to know about Kenma. Like I know they’re soulmates and they’ll figure it out, but realistically they haven’t even known each other that long.”

“Such as?” Bokuto asked confused.

“Well, just stuff I thought would help, ya know? Like Kenma is super duper allergic to ragweed, but he always insists it’s not a big deal, so if you don’t force allergy meds down his throat in August, he’s gonna get a gnarly sinus infection, which isn’t good because he’s never had a good immune system. It takes him forever to kick an illness. Or even like how he’s terrible at finding new places. Like god awful. Sometimes even places he’s been to before so you always have to text him the directions even if you just explained them to him and he said he understood. Even if he yells at you for texting him because he simply overestimates his ability not to get lost. Oh, another one is that he really loves extra tapioca but he’s always too embarrassed to actually ask for it. He never wants to be a bother, which is ridiculous. He’s obviously never a bother. Ha, how could I forgot, I also told him that Kenma wants a nose piercing but he does know it yet. You should see the way his face lights up when he sees someone with one, but when you ask him about it, he just says he would never get one, but he totally wants one. Was that it? Wait, oh I gave him a tip at beating Kenma at smash. God knows he needs it. He sucks at it,” Kuroo rambled quick enough that he was surprised to find himself out of breath when he finished.

“Just to clarify,” Akaashi said, “You wrote that down in a notebook and gave it to Shouyou.”

“Correct,” Kuroo said with an enthusiastic nod, “But now I’m thinking I shouldn’t have.”

The other two of them sat in silence trying to think of something, anything to say.

“What? It was that bad? Tell me what you think,” Kuroo insisted.

“Honestly?” Akaashi started, “I think you need a hug.”

“You could still be

What you want to

What you said you were

When I met you

You've got a warm heart

You've got a beautiful brain, but it's disintegrating”

-Medicine, Daughter

“Ah, fuck,” Kuroo mumbled disoriented, “Oh ow fuck.”

It occurred to him that he was in a bright room in a lot of pain. Oh fuck. He was in a hospital bed. Gently moved his arm. There was an IV attached to it. He tried to move his legs but only could move one.

“What, uh” he said looking for a nurse, “What’s going on?”

“Hey,” a nurse said, rushing into the room. She pushed a button on his IV, and almost instantaneously some of the sharp pain subsided, “You’re in a Sendai hospital. You were in a car accident. You needed surgery, but you’re going to be okay.”

“Are you kidding me?” he asked.

“I’m sorry? Sir, I don’t-“

“I was starting my first game as a pro tomorrow because my teammate’s wife just had a baby. Let me guess, I have some career ending injury,” he said laughing.

“Well, most of the damage was internal, but your right femur is broken and you have two breaks in your right ankle,” she said calmly.

“I’ll be fine though, right? Like I’m not going to die or anything? Just won’t be able to play professional volleyball?” he asked.

“You’re correct. You’ll be fine, but it’s going to take a long time for the femur break to heal. I’m not sure how feasible it’ll be to play again at a high level but that’s a conversation for you to have with your doctor. Those are hard bones to heal, but you’re not going to die.”

“Well, what a fucking disappointment! If I can’t play volleyball at least let me die. Literally every time I have something in my life that I love and fulfills me, I don’t get to fucking have it? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not mad at you or anything, I’m actually thankful for you taking care of me, but I’m over this,” he said laughing and crying.

“Sir, please if there’s anything I can do?” she asked calmly.

“Oh, no ma’am. Nothing can be done for a soul as fucking cursed as mine. Every part of my life that I love abandons me, so you should actually probably just leave me now before I try to love you too. Do you think if I finally really love my life again that it’ll end? Because that’s just my luck! I feel like a mouse stuck in a godforsaken maze just getting shocked and shocked, but I can’t get fucking cheese, ya know that. I just want some godforsaken cheese,” he exclaimed, tears streaming down his face. He let out a scream that he felt begging to escape his chest.

“Sorry, he’s on a lot of pain medication,” the nurse said apologetically.

“Don’t worry, there’s not enough pain medicine in the world you can give him to fix the damage I dealt him. I got him from here. Thanks for all of your help.”

“Fucking damnit this stupid fucking fuck,” Kuroo said reaching for the tubes connected to his arm.

“Hey, Kuro, I’m going to ask you politely not to do what you’re about to do right now. This is not an action movie. If you rip those out, you’re going to bleed a lot, make a large mess, feel a lot of pain, and then the poor nurse will have to come hear you yell about cheese some more and none of us want that.”

Kuroo froze. “Kenma?”

“The one and only,” he said.

Kuroo looked up at him. He was tan and wearing a bright orange shirt branded with a Bouncing Ball logo that said Ninja Shouyou in block letters behind it.

“I don’t think you’ve ever been tanner than I have before,” Kuroo said quietly, “And your hair is growing out again.”

“It’s only been a few months since we’ve seen each other. My hair hasn’t grown that much.”

“Hmm, why are you here?” Kuroo asked.

“Because someone is a shit driver,” Kenma replied.

“I’m a perfectly fine driver, thank you very much!” Kuroo insisted.

“I’m not convinced, but whatever you say.”

“Wait, no I mean why are you here. The nurse said we’re in Sendai. Why are you in Sendai?” Kuroo asked.

“Because I’m apparently your emergency contact,” he pointed out.

“Oh god, I’m sorry. You should have just not come. I didn’t realize I didn’t change it from high school,” he admitted.

“I should have just not come? And let you keep performing dollar store brand Shakespeare for the medical staff? I don’t think so,” Kenma said.

“You didn’t know I was going to be yelling at the nurse. Checkmate,” Kuroo said.

“I’m not convinced this is a checkmate moment. I came because they called to tell me that you were in surgery for moderately severe internal bleeding.”

“You should have not come. You have better things to do with your time.”

“I definitely can free up some time here and there for my friend,” he said with a shrug.

“Well you shouldn’t have. You shouldn’t have been my emergency contact. You should have just told the doctors to fuck off and leave me alone in this room. You shouldn’t have come all of this way,” Kuroo said, anger seeping into his voice.

“Oh really? Are you finally going to yell at me?” Kenma asked, gently sitting on the bed next to Kuroo’s good leg.

“I’m pissed at myself, not you. Why would I be yelling at you? You aren’t the one who crashed my car,” Kuroo insisted.

“Oh I thought you, spurred on by the heavy amount of medication you are on, were going to finally yell at me for all of the things I’ve put you through,” Kenma said, casually, “I am the first bastard who stole your cheese, am I not?”

“Are you trying to bait me into a fight?” Kuroo asked, feeling the sharp pain in his side again.

Kenma’s eyes flicked up to the button on Kuroo’s machinery. He deftly got off the bed and pressed the button. Kuroo could feel the pain begin to ebb again.

“Are you even supposed to be doing that?” Kuroo asked.

“I’m not sure, but I watched the nurse do it, and I have a feeling it wouldn’t let me do it if I wasn’t supposed to,” he responded, honestly.

“That’s unbelievably irresponsible, Kenma. This is my health we are talking about,” Kuroo said, intensely.

“I saw the pain in your eyes. I’ve seen too much pain in your eyes. It’s hard to see,” Kenma plainly said.

“Oh? Is it? Is it hard for you Kenma?” Kuroo said, his voice getting louder.

“Yes,” he responded, “It is.”

“I swear to- wait, stop baiting me into a fight,” he said, stopping himself.

“I’m not baiting you into anything, or maybe I am. I’ve heard that I’m the keeper of the lab mice. Baiting mice may be one of my job duties.”

“Why are you doing this?” Kuroo asked.

“To be clear, all I’ve done is told you why I came, helped give you pain medication, and asked if you were going to yell at me after you started yelling at me. Oh, I’ve also made a lot of jokes about your mouse tirade. I’m not baiting you,” he added.

Kuroo took a deep breath, wincing at the pain it caused.

“You have like six jobs, right?” Kuroo asked.

“Uh, not really, but I see what you’re indicating. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I’m about to be out of one,” Kuroo pointed out.

“Oh, I can get you a job at Bouncing Ball, easily.” Kenma said.

“I don’t want a job from you. I want help thinking about what new job to get. I’ll get the job myself,” Kuroo insisted.

“Well, what do you enjoy?”

“Currently? The pain medication? Other than that, really not much,” Kuroo said sarcastically.

“Would you still be playing volleyball if you weren’t injured?” Kenma asked.

“Of course I would. I was supposed to start,” Kuroo said, sadly.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Kenma said.

“Don’t say you know when you don’t know. I didn’t tell you,” he insisted.

“I read an article about it. I was excited to watch it.”

“Unbelievable. Well, to answer your question. I’d obviously still play volleyball. It makes me happy,” he insisted.

“I’ll be back,” Kenma said pulling out his phone.

“Where are you going?” Kuroo asked.

“To cross a line.”

“Don’t you dare get me a job,” Kuroo said.

The glint off of Kenma’s wedding band as he typed something into his phone made Kuroo wish he could have more pain medication.

“What, Kuro? You gonna stand up and stop me? With what right leg?” Kenma asked, as he walked out of the room.

Kuroo steamed until Kenma came back.

“I swear to god, Kenma.”

“Your interview is in five days. It was the latest I could get it,” he said apologetically.

“I said I’m not working at Bouncing Ball,” Kuroo said angrily.

“Oh, if it were Bouncing Ball, you wouldn’t need an interview. This isn’t public information yet, but Bouncing Ball is going to announce a collaboration with the JVA pretty soon. They have a position open.”

“I don’t want a job you got me,” Kuroo insisted.

“I got you an interview, not a job. It’s something you have a natural talent for. Plus, you’ll be back in Tokyo.”

“What is it?”

“As it turns out, you have a natural blessing for convincing bratty kids that volleyball is fun. I think you could make a career out of it.”

“Why Kenma, why call, why use a favor to get me this interview?”

“For the same reason my husband suddenly started ordering my drinks with extra tapioca shortly after our wedding.”

“Because he knows how you like your drinks?” Kuroo asked.

“Playing dumb is a bad look on you. Don’t do it.”

“Like a tragedy, like a dark comedy

Laughing at each other, laughing at each other

Like, oh oh oh it isn't funny anymore

I was the man who never lied

I never lied until today

But I just couldn't break your heart

Like you did mine yesterday”

-The Man Who Never Lied, Maroon V

“Mm, hang on,” Kuroo said as he paused the game.

“What? You need a break from the thrashing I’m giving you?” Kenma asked with an amused look on his face.

“Nah, just gotta stretch out,” he sat as he sat on the ground in front of his couch, stretching his long legs in front of him, “Unpausing.”

“Ah, that was a clever move,” Kenma said approvingly at Kuroo’s last ditch effort not to die, “By the way, your leg bothering you again?”

Kuroo nodded as he was finally finished off by Kenma’s unflappable offense, “Yeah. I happened across a game of volleyball yesterday.”

“What do you mean you happened across a game of volleyball? I wasn’t aware Tokyo had a lot of pickup volleyball games for you to happen to find,” Kenma pointed out, not buying it for a second.

“What? Is all of your brain power going to trying to beat my stalwart defense? I work at the JVA. You know, the job you got for me? There is in fact a lot of pickup volleyball,” he said, thrilled to have proven Kenma wrong for once.

“What buff do you have equipped that I’m not seeing?” Kenma asked under his breath. Louder, he said, “I’m surprised it took you this long to play volleyball again, to be honest.”

“Oh, I’ve been playing for quite a bit now, but I tried jumping some blocks instead of keeping my feet firmly planted on the ground. As it turns out, my leg didn’t really like that. They said it was going to heal really well, but my ankle still has its bad days.”

Kenma paused the game and shot him a look.

“What’s wrong Kenma? You need a break from the thrashing I’m giving you?” Kuroo asked with a grin.

“Okay, I’m clearly winning, but I paused the game to get your undivided attention for a moment,” he said sweetly.

“Well, you have it. What can I do for you?” he asked, somewhat nervous.

“Oh, I just wanted to let you know that you’re a fucking moron,” Kenma said staring him down.

“Hurtful, Kenma. I’m fragile,” he said laughing and gesturing to his leg, “Please try using nice words.”

“In that case, let’s go with: Kuro, you handsome gentleman with a good personality, you’re a fucking moron. What part of jumping blocks says ‘low impact activity’ to you?”

“I thought it’d be fine. I’ve jumped plenty of blocks in my lifetime,” Kuroo said as if that argument made any applicable sense.

“Okay, but you shouldn’t have done it. You don’t want to injure yourself again. Injuries like these only get worse as you get older,” Kenma insisted.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, mom. Can I go back to playing video games if I promise to do my homework after?” he asked in his best imitation of a ten year old.

Kenma just sighed and unpaused the video game. Even if Kenma was being annoying, Kuroo was glad that he got to see him today. He’d been going back and forth between Tokyo and Osaka as he worked in Tokyo and Shouyou played in Osaka. This meant Kuroo got to see him a lot less often than he used to. It had been almost a year.

“Oh, man, you got those fancy new glasses and you still can’t see what the right move is?” Kenma asked with a laugh.

“They don’t even help me see. They just help me keep my headaches away. Looking at a screen all day is hard for some of us,” Kuroo said pushing his black framed glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Coward,” Kenma, master of staring at a screen all day, called out.

“I’m pretty sure you can’t talk shit about my glasses considering I still have twenty twenty vision and you’ve been wearing contacts since you were twelve,” Kuroo argued.

“You just admitted to me having bad eyesight in comparison to your good eyesight and still being able to whoop your ass, and don’t say it’s my contacts because I was whopping your ass back before I even had them.”

“You’re talking a lot of shit for someone who almost placed last in their most recent video game tournament,” Kuroo laughed.

“It was an international tournament and I’ll have you know that I got paid quite a bit to compete. Looks like one of us had a more successful career than the other in our childhood hobbies.”

“Damn, just launching these insults one after the other. Feeling a bit sensitive today? Or are you just jealous that my glasses make me look unbearably sexy?” Kuroo asked as he lost the game.

“Did your date find them unbearably sexy?” Kenma asked as he started another round of the game.

“When in fuck’s name did you talk to Bokuto? Can’t trust him with anything, huh?”

“After an MSBY game as I was waiting for Sho to get ready to leave,” he responded.

Of course. That made total sense. Why wouldn’t he have considered that? Maybe it was because he felt like Bokuto was the one part of his life that was going well. He was really thankful for the friendship they kept up over the years.

“Well, looks like he’s lost his hearing about my life updates privileges,” Kuroo said as he spammed an attack he hadn’t tried yet this round.

“Well, looks like the ship has sailed on that one. So, how was it?” Kenma asked, taken aback by Kuroo’s attack.

It was terrible. Unbelievably bad. Dating someone who isn’t your soulmate is not good at all, because the dating pool is made up of two kinds of people. The first kind was of people like him, who could see colors. People who had a living soulmate, but their soulmate didn’t match up with them. The other kind, which made up the vast majority of the dating pool, were people who couldn’t see color anymore because they had lost their soulmates.

While there was a dating app for people like him, he actually met his date at a dumb support group. He thought going and being surrounded by poor bastards like himself would make him feel better, as if he wasn’t going through this alone, but it only made him feel infinitely worse. Sitting in a room with a bunch of miserable people, especially because most of them were significantly older than him, was mostly just depressing. He ended up staying after to strike a conversation with the only person who seemed like they weren’t entirely miserable. She was definitely a bit older than him, but probably not that much older. She explained that her soulmate had died shortly after her eighteenth birthday and that she was mostly over it by now. She also said that she personally hated the meetings but she came to support her friend who found them to be helpful. They bonded over how awful the meeting was, and Kuroo feeling bold, asked her on a date.

The date had started well. Apparently she played on a casual neighborhood volleyball team, so they really hit it off. He told her about how he briefly played professionally, but he had to stop when he got injured so now he works for the JVA. He did his best to make it not sound as pathetic as it was. He found it really cool that she was a tenured moral philosophy professor. He also then realized that she was a lot older than he thought. She had to be at least a decade older than him, which made him feel a bit odd, but the crushing realization that his dating pool would likely be incredibly small and every one of his options would likely have something that didn’t work well with him, hit him and he decided to let it slide.

It wasn’t until after dinner when she had asked how his soulmate died that things started going south. He explained that his soulmate was alive and well and he got to see him regularly. She was shocked and seemed a bit upset. Kuroo explained that the two were childhood friends and had known each other for years and that Kenma had been married for a few years now, that he knew Kenma’s husband and was happy that Kenma was happy. It was then that she figured out that Kuroo was a lot younger than she thought and that he was still hopelessly obsessed with his soulmate.

She essentially then told him she wouldn’t waste her time with someone who was pathetically in love with someone who didn’t love him back. She argued that falling in love with him would be useless, because then she’d be in love with him and he wouldn’t love her back, because he was too busy loving Kenma who wouldn’t love him back. He tried explaining that it wasn’t weird, that he was just friends with Kenma and it wasn’t like that, but the more he went on, the more he realized it wasn’t true. Every single time he saw Kenma, it felt like a breath of fresh air and a kick to the chest. It was wonderful to just be with him, but being acutely aware of the fact that he would never be the object of Kenma’s affection took that air right out of his lungs, until he suffocated. She told him that he should stop seeing his soulmate, to rip the bandaid off, to stop contributing to his own suffering, to stop being pathetic, to stop making things awkward for his soulmate and his soulmate’s husband and to not waste anyone’s time by taking them on a date until he did that.

He waited until she left the restaurant to start crying. He cried at the table. He cried on the train ride home. He cried when he walked into his apartment. He cried as he crawled into bed and then he cried as he fell asleep.

“Oh, the date was awesome,” he said, trying to be convincing, “The only issue was that she was too old for me, and no, I didn’t wear my glasses.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Kenma said, leaning over to ruffle Kuroo’s hair, “How old are we talking?”

“I’m not exactly sure but she was a tenured moral philosophy professor,” he said with a laugh.

“Oh so she’s like way older than you. What is she, a cougar? Where did you guys even meet, a retirement home?” he asked.

“Hey, asshole, she wasn’t that old. We actually met while I was at work. She plays on a local volleyball team and I was in that gym filling out paperwork for the JVA,” he lied through his teeth.

“That’s actually hilarious. Of course you found a volleyball loving cougar. Even if you aren’t doing to date her, you guys should play together some, I mean you said the date went well, but no blocking, got it?”

“I was planning on it,” he said with a forced smile, “Oh, I meant to ask, your hair is about as long as it was when you bleached it for the first time. Are you gonna do it again?”

“You know, I’ve considered it. I don’t feel the same desire to make myself not stand out, especially considering that I spend a lot of my job being watched by tens of thousands of people, but I do kinda miss it.”

“You should totally do it on a stream, I bet your fans would be thrilled. Maybe even let them pick a ridiculous color to dye it once it’s bleached,” Kuroo suggested.

“I think it would look cool if I-“ he let his remote drop to the ground, “No, no, no fuck. No, it can’t. Give me your car keys, Kuro, your car keys.”

“Kenma what’s wrong?” he asked as he got up to grab his keys off the counter.

“Call Bokuto now, come on, which one is the key to the car?” Kenma demanded in a panic.

“The red one, you know that,” Kuroo said as he pulled out his phone to call Bokuto. He watched Kenma stare hopelessly at the keys. What had just happened finally clicked in Kuroo’s mind. It was going to be an unspeakably bad day. “Kenma, I’m driving. Take my phone. Tell me where we need to go.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know,” he said as he took Kuroo’s phone.

Kuroo grabbed him by the sleeve and practically dragged him out of the apartment to his car. Kenma was using both phones. One to dial Bokuto and one to dial his husband.

“Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up,” he said, each one louder than the last.

“Kenma, is he in Osaka?”

“Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.”

“Kenma, where is he?” Kuroo asked again, louder this time.

“Osaka. Pick up. Come on please. Please. Pick up.”

“The Shinkansen is a lot quicker than the car. We’re going to the station,” Kuroo said, turning back around.

“Bokuto, he’s dead isn’t he?” Kenma, asked in tears, “Please tell me he’s fine. Please, please, Bokuto. Say he’s okay.”

Kuroo drove faster. He knew that Shouyou wasn’t okay. If Kenma could no longer see colors, there was only one thing that meant.

“What hospital Bokuto? Which one?” he asked frantically.

“What do you mean you don’t know? How many are there?”

Kuroo haphazardly pulled his car into a spot and got out. He opened Kenma’s door and pulled him out of the car. There were multiple trains that left on this route each hour, so he knew it wouldn’t be long until they could get on one. He grabbed Kenma’s phone as Kenma was using his at the moment and brought up the website to get tickets. He had done it plenty of times when he was still playing volleyball. Luckily, Kenma’s card was saved into his phone so it took almost no time to get the tickets and the train would be there soon.

“Bokuto is trying to find where they took him. He was alive when they took him,” Kenma said, “how long?”

“The train should be here any moment,” Kuroo said.

“Do you think he’s going to be okay?” Kenma asked.

“I have no idea,” he choked out.

That was a lie. He did know. Shouyou was dead. He had read way too many articles about this stuff to not know. He had to be gone, but he couldn’t tell Kenma that. He also couldn’t lie and give him false hope. Saying he didn’t know was the only thing he could do. He wanted to tell Kenma the truth, but he couldn’t do it.

The three hour train ride was bad. Really bad. Because they didn’t reserve tickets beforehand, they didn’t have seats reserved, so they had to stand the entire way. Kuroo was using one of his arms to hold on to the handle, and the other one to wrap around Kenma. Kenma had his arms wrapped around Kuroo’s torso and was sobbing. People were staring. Kuroo prayed for Kenma’s sake that they were staring because he was sobbing, not because they recognized him. He was hoping that photos of Kenma sobbing on the Shinkansen wouldn’t be plastered all over the internet. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d accidentally gone viral with his newfound fame.

“These tired wings are falling

I need you to catch me

As I burn, as I break

I can't take it anymore

I return to the place

Where the water covers over everything

Rescue me somehow”

-Hold Me Now, Red

Kuroo sat next to Bokuto, a few rows back from the front. He had never seen his friend this solemn in his life. He had never seen him even close to this.

He watched as Kenma at the small podium floundered over his words. His eulogy had started as a cleanly written delicate speech, but it quickly devolved into a desperate free form.

“I mean, at least he died doing what he loved, right? He literally spent the last three years learning how to take care of his body and mind while playing. You guys know that? Yeah. That’s what he was doing. He took immaculate care of his body and his mind so he could always be on the court. Isn’t that fucked? Like absolutely fucked? He spent years of his life making sure he’d be well so he could play and then some random congenital defect took him out in the middle of practice? What poetic fucking irony but instead of funny it’s just unbearable. You guys know I realized he was my soulmate when he actually got a fever by playing too hard, which surely I was at least slightly at blame for? When he said he could see the colors, I thought he was delirious with fever until I saw them too. So a volleyball related illness brought my soulmate to me and took him from me. Fuck that. Fuck volleyball.”

He was about a half tone below yelling. His arms were flailing and his hair kept falling on his eyes.

“You know? I’m not even supposed to be saying fuck volleyball right now. Just a few months ago we were joking about what we wanted to happen after we died. I was dicking around and told him to leave my body in a place where there were lots of pirates so I could spend my death haunting pirate ships, but he took it seriously. He told me that he wouldn’t want a sad funeral. He’d want a fun funeral where people would meet each other and laugh and remember the good things about him. That’s the reason why there’s his favorite food on the tables and decks of cards and why there are volleyballs and a net outside, because that’s what he wanted, but I don’t think I can do that.”

He took a moment to catch his breath and Kuroo thought he might be done, but he kept going. Kuroo debated whether or not he needed to intervene, but he knew he shouldn’t.

“See I’m even wearing this orange bowtie from our wedding because I thought it would fit his last wish, but I can’t even see that it’s orange, so really, is there even a point? Maybe, just maybe if my entire life wasn’t grey with him gone, and I mean my entire life, not even my vision. I wouldn’t give a shit if I couldn’t see color assuming that I could spend more time with him, I would be able to stand up here and laugh or smile or at the very least not just be standing here screaming but that’s sadly not something I am strong enough to do. There actually happens to be a fuckton of really good volleyball players here so if any of you want to go outside and play volleyball in Shouyou’s honor, I would appreciate it, but me not playing volleyball for Shouyou has been something that’s been happening before I was even with him. Maybe if I would have set him a few more balls this nightmare wouldn’t be happening. Who even knows. The only thing I know right now is that I want a mellon baller.”

The crowd stirred. They were confused. The only one who wasn’t, was Kuroo. Mellon baller was their code from when they were kids. It was something Kenma would say when he was really anxious somewhere and needed to be taken out of the situation. Kuroo stood up and pulled Bokuto with him. They walked to the front of the crowd.

“Say something,” Kuroo whispered to Bokuto.

Bokuto for the first time, possibly in his entire life, was speechless and just stared, jaw open, at Kuroo.

“Sit with him outside for a minute,” Kuroo then whispered to Bokuto.

Bokuto awkwardly pulled Kenma down the aisle and out of the room. Kuroo wasn’t sure where he pulled the strength to do what he did, but he managed.

We walked up behind the podium and said, “Well, I’m not sure that I can make this a happy occasion like he wanted, but I think we can all give it a go together. I imagine we all have dozens of stories about Shouyou we could tell and laugh or smile about, so I’ll go first.”

He looked up at all of the people gathered and he could feel his heart in his throat. He forgot how to talk. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. He panicked until he locked eyes with Kenma’s mother. Something about meeting her eyes gave him the ability to start talking again. Maybe it’s because he knew her for so long, or maybe it was that she was one of the only people in the world who knew that he would do anything for Kenma. He wasn’t sure, but he took a breath and started speaking again.

“I actually was with Kenma the first time he met Shouyou. Both of them managed to run into each other while they were lost. That’s right, if you guys know both of them, then you know just how on brand that was,” he said as he tried to force out a small laugh, “But the story I actually wanted to tell you, was the first time he ever spoke to me. Of course, it was during a volleyball match. I’d heard about him from Kenma, but I hadn’t said anything to him before. I don’t quite remember what I was talking to him about, but it was basically that I was impressed with how talented he was for how short he was, then I called him chibi-chan. I would like to remind you that I was probably almost thirty centimeters taller than him at the time. You know what he said to me? I’ll never forget it. He told me, ‘You can call me a shrimp, but you’re the real shrimp.”

He stopped to look out at the audience. Someone who Kuroo recognized as being a Karasuno alumni laughed, and then it was like it was contagious. The people gathered were crying, yes, but in that moment they were also laughing. He saw Miya Atsumu come his way, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He could go sit down. His nerves were shot. He made eye contact with Kenma who had at some point walked back into the room. He was standing in the open doorway and mouthed a ‘thank you.’

Kuroo sat back in his spot next to Bokuto and prayed the incoming barrage of stories would do something to temporarily mitigate the unbearable misery his soulmate was feeling. He knew it wouldn’t fix it, not even close, but maybe, just maybe, it could make it a pinch less unbearable.

“You're gone, gone, gone away

I watched you disappear

All that's left is a ghost of you.

Now we're torn, torn, torn apart,

There's nothing we can do

Just let me go we'll meet again soon.”

-Little Talks, Of Monsters and Men

Kuroo pulled up to Kenma’s house after a long day of work and hoped that he wouldn’t be greeted by the same sight he was the day before. He’d been dropping off food for Kenma at his front door. He’d send him a text to let him know that he was coming by and then ring the doorbell in case Kenma didn’t have his phone. The last three days, Kenma didn’t come to the door, which was fine, but yesterday, when Kuroo got to his doorstep, he noticed that the food he had left out the day before was still there. Kenma hadn’t gone and got it. Kuroo hoped Kenma was eating things he didn’t bring him, but he didn’t have a lot of faith.

He pulled the keys out of the ignition and grabbed the bag filled with meals. He didn’t need to come by every day, but he wanted Kenma to know that at least someone would come by once a day if he needed anything. At first, he wondered if he shouldn’t ring the doorbell since he was already texting, but figured that Kenma might not be using his phone to know, so he did both.

He got to Kenma’s front door and was relieved to see that the food had been taken inside. He put the bag on the ground and went to ring the doorbell but saw a small piece of paper with his name on it taped below the doorbell. He grabbed it and saw there was a key taped to the back.

‘Kuro,’ Kenma’s sloppy cursive read, ‘I wish to ask you not to take care of me, but I know you will do it with or without my blessing regardless. Here is a key to the house. If it makes it easier on you, feel free to stay the nights. I know the train is further from my place than it is your apartment, but I know that Bouncing Ball is pretty close to your office. If it would make it easier for you to just drive there, you can grab the parking permit out of my car, or really, you can just take my car. I’m writing this, not because I want your help, but because I’m intimately familiar with your stubbornness and was hoping I could in some way make this easier on you. Please try not to worry too much. -K.K’

Kuroo almost laughed. Kenma was surely in unimaginable mental turmoil and yet he was trying to make it easier on Kuroo. Kuroo considered Kenma trying to make things easier on him to be one of his most frustrating traits. He didn’t need to be so considerate.

He turned the key in the lock and wasn’t surprised to see every light in the house was off.

“Kenma?” he called out quietly.

He pulled out his phone to use the flashlight and walked around looking for his friend. He was sleeping in the guest bedroom among a mound of blankets. Kuroo gently left the food on the nightstand and then closed the door behind him as he left. He decided he would try to do something helpful before leaving, so he went into Kenma’s kitchen for the purpose of cleaning out his fridge and doing the dishes. When he walked in and turned on the light, he noticed that there must have been a dozen smashed dishes on the ground, glass spread all throughout the kitchen floor. Some of it was in large chunks, some practically pulverized into dust. Some of it was translucent and clear, some of it was dark blue and see through, some of it was orange and opaque.

He went back to the front door to grab his shoes. He slipped them on and then made his way back to the kitchen where he carefully did his best to move all of the shards into the garbage. He then found the broom and started to sweep the rest up, hoping he got most of it. Once he was done with that, he washed the few dishes that were in the sink. He figured that most of them must still be in the room where Kenma was. He then went through the fridge, getting rid of stuff that looked old. He refilled the water pitcher, and then took the garbage outside. He sat in his car in silence for a minute and then dialed a number. He was surprised when she picked up.

He said quietly into the phone, “I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I really need your help.”

“Sayin' all is good and nothingness is dead

We run until she's out of breath

She ran until there's nothing left

She hit the end, just her window ledge

Come on try a little

Nothing is forever

Got to be something better than in the middle”

-One Headlight, The Wallflowers

Kuroo knew as he walked into the house that he had an objective. It wasn’t easy, but he was told it would be better if he could do it. He walked up to the stairs to Kenma’s guest bedroom where he knew Kenma would be.

He knocked gently on the door and then after hearing no response walked in.

“Kenma?” he asked the darkness. The darkness didn’t respond.

“You have to get up.”

The darkness this time just groaned and rolled over.

“I’m not leaving until you get up,” Kuroo said.

Kenma didn’t respond for a long time.

“I won’t do it,” his voice creaked from under a pile of blankets.

“Fine, look me in the eyes and tell me that you’ve gone somewhere besides the bathroom and this room in the last two days,” Kuroo said firmly, but gently.

“I don’t know when days are anymore,” he whispered.

“It’ll be good for you, so you have to,” Kuroo said, “Get up. At the very least, go take a shower.”

There was no response other than silence.

“Kenma, you haven’t left these two rooms in days. I won’t even make you eat, if you don’t want.”

“Go away,” Kenma said quietly, slowly, and emotionlessly.

“The best way to get me to leave is to get up and go downstairs,” Kuroo said calmly, “I swear, all you have to do is go downstairs for a bit and I’ll leave if that’s what you want.”

Kuroo was supposed to get him to do more than go downstairs, but he didn’t think it would be this hard to convince him.

“Leave. Don’t make me hate you,” he said with a biting tone.

“Oh, Kenma,” he said softly, walking closer to the bed, “I don’t even care if you hate me. Loath me, despise me. Whatever you want, but you’re getting up.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Last chance,” Kuroo said.

Kenma neither spoke nor moved.

Kuroo walked back to the doorway and flipped on the light switch, temporarily blinding his friend who had surely been in the almost pitch black room for days on end.

“Fuck off,” Kenma warned, shielding his eyes with a pillow.

“Listen, it’s 6:06pm. Give me one hour of your time to make you hate me some more, then you can go back to bed, by 7:06pm you can be back here, and I will leave, or I can stand here all night long bothering you. I can absolutely call into work sick. Don’t think I won’t.”

Kenma took a large breath in but didn’t respond. Kuroo walked over to him and grabbed the pillow from his hands. He was met with no resistance. His eyes were swollen and red, which was a contrast from the dark circles that sat below them, but the thing that upset Kuroo the most was how glassy and lifeless they looked.

“Go shower,” he said nodding towards the attached bathroom.

He walked into the hallway in the hope that giving Kenma a moment alone would help get him moving. He was also a bit concerned that he would simply turn the light off and lay back down.

Thankfully, he heard the shower turn on. He waited a minute before walking back into the room. He cracked the window open to let in some air. He swooped all of the blankets off the bed and brought them downstairs so he could put them in the wash. Next he brought all of the dishes with half eaten food to the kitchen. He scraped the food into the garbage and took it outside. He went into Kenma’s pantry looking for a candle or an air freshener of some kind. His room could really use it.

“I want to go back to bed. Give me them back,” Kenma said, appearing behind Kuroo.

“They’re in the wash. You’ll have to wait. Plus, it’s only 6:40, you owe me twenty six minutes.”

“That’s okay, I can just lay on the floor,” he said turning to go back upstairs.

“I don’t think so. We’re going for a walk.”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s a bummer you don’t have a choice in the matter. It’s a bit cold out. Grab a jacket. You don’t even need shoes. Put on your slippers if you want. We aren’t going far. Just around the block.”

“No.”

“Getting fresh air will be really good for you,” Kuroo insisted, gently.

“I don’t care if something is good for me. I want to go sleep in the dark.”

“And you will, after we walk around the block. If you walk faster, you can even get back to bed before 7:06pm.”

“Why do I have to go outside? Why do you care so much? You don’t know what’s good for me. Let me rot,” he whined.

“I actually figured you’d say that, so I called someone who’s been through what you’re going through and she told me that I needed to make you shower and get out of the house, so that’s what we are doing this fine evening. I think you’ll be able to rot quicker after a walk tires you out. The night air always tires you out after all,” he pointed out.

“I hate you,” Kenma said, making his way across the room to put his slippers on, “Let’s go.”

Kuroo smiled at him and walked him to the door. It took some convincing but he even got Kenma to put on a sweatshirt.

“You can pick, I’m happy to talk if you want me to talk or we can walk in silence,” he said as he turned around to lock the door behind them.

What he didn’t expect Kenma to pick was taking off running. He heard the clap of the slippers on the driveway and whirled around. He wasn’t casually jogging either, Kuroo estimated that it was probably Kenma’s top speed. In a world where Kuroo never injured his leg, he could make up the distance in no time, but Kenma was running hard with a head start, and Kuroo had set his ankle off again when he went down the stairs at work that morning. Nevertheless, he took off after Kenma.

He wasn’t sure where Kenma was going, but it didn’t seem to be around the block. He also knew that he didn’t have to catch up to Kenma. He would eventually tire himself out. He could only run so far when he was regularly working out, and he certainly hadn’t done that in a long time.

Kuroo was right. Kenma made it just to the edge of the small forest by his house before flopping into the grass.

“Kenma,” he said as he caught up, “Are you doing okay?”

Kenma was breathing hard as he laid on his back looking at the darkening sky.

“I wanted to feel my lungs burn,” he said through labored breaths.

Kuroo nodded and sat a few feet away from him. Kenma then did a second thing Kuroo didn’t see coming. He let out a guttural scream. He wasn’t yelling words or swearing. He was just straight up screaming a blood curdling scream.

“Kenma!”

“What?” he asked, his voice raspy.

“I don’t mind you yelling but someone is going to think I’m murdering you and call the police. Can you at least go do this back in the house?”

“Hmm,” he said quietly, “I don’t think so.”

He took a breath in and then opened up his mouth as if to start screaming, but instead just broke into a sob. He covered his eyes with one of his elbows and let it out. It was ugly crying, the kind with snot, and shaking, and no air, and jagged whimpers. The sorrow was clawing at him from within, begging to be let out.

Kuroo wasn’t quite sure what to do. He felt like he should give his friend some privacy, but at the same time it was quickly getting both darker and colder. He couldn’t just leave him there alone, but he was completely at a loss for what to do. When he got to Kenma’s house, his plan was to get him to shower and go for a quick walk. Screaming and crying near the forest a bit over a half mile from his house wasn’t the plan. All of this considered, he just sat on the cold ground as his friend laid a few feet away being swallowed by an unrelenting grief.

He sat and wondered if his friend would ever recover. From his brief time he spent trying some support groups, it was clear that there was a wide range of possibilities. Some who lost their soulmate seemed to turn out okay, living fulfilling lives, having exciting careers and even giving dating a try. Others turned stony, unsmiling, unable to feel anything after blocking their sorrow for so long. For others, the only time they left their house was to go cry in an awkward support group with other strangers. Others, did the unspeakable.

His heart broke for Kenma. Kenma had been happy, like really happy. It wasn’t like Kenma had beforehand been particularly depressed or anything, but in the recent years with Kenma’s careers taking off and his happy marriage, he was practically a different person. He was a technicolor version of himself when he streamed. He had told Kuroo once that he thought he might like watching volleyball more than playing it, and that turned out well for him, having a husband who played beach volleyball in a different country and then returned to Japan to play professionally. Kuroo thought he was practically glowing and the thought of him turning into one of those statues or shut ins tore him apart.

He zipped up his jacket in an attempt to keep himself warm. It was getting rather chilly. It occurred to him then that Kenma was only wearing a sweatshirt. He must be freezing. He was also in now destroyed slippers with no socks.

“Kenma,” he said, “We have to get you back inside. You’re going to freeze.”

“Let me freeze,” he choked out in between sobs.

“If you don’t want to walk I’ll go back and get the car, but you have to promise to stay here, alright?”

Kenma shook his head no.

“Okay we can walk then, I’ll help you up.”

He seemed like he wanted to protest, but didn’t have the energy to do it. He lazily held one of his arms up and Kuroo grabbed his hand. It was ice cold. He should have started ushering him inside earlier.

As Kenma got to his feet, Kuroo couldn’t help but notice him shiver. His eyes and nose were red, from crying, yes, but probably also from the cold. Kuroo swiftly unzipped his jacket and put it around Kenma’s shoulders. He expected some form or rejection or protest, but he didn’t get it.

Instead what he heard was, “I don’t hate you. I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s okay, I know,” he said putting his palm between Kenma’s shoulder blades.

“I search for stillness

But worry kills it

I need to clear my head

I'm tired, I need to rest

It all comes down to this

The quiet in the end

I listen for Your voice

Recovery begins”

-Recovery Begins, Fireflight

Leaving work to go to Kenma’s house was a daily occurrence for Kuroo and yet he never knew what he was going to get. He had always heard the phrase that healing wasn’t linear, but he never really understood it. Sure it wasn’t a perfectly straight line, there would be times where you plateaued and stayed at the same level for a while, but he didn’t get how it couldn’t be for the most part linear. This was different.

Some days when he walked in, Kenma would be sitting as his desk working. He’d started doing some work at Bouncing Ball again. Some days they’d sit on the couch and silently watch a movie and eat takeout. Some days Kenma would be hidden in a dark room, unmoving. Some days they played video games and had occasional conversions. Some days Kenma would seem fine and then suddenly burst into tears or become unable to talk. Some days were the opposite, when he started out inconsolable and then would take a stroll and seem to feel better almost instantly. Kenma’s healing wasn’t linear. It wasn’t even close. It was like a child scribbling on a paper.

When he walked in today, the television in the front room had the Mario Kart loading screen pulled up, so he figured today had been an okay day for Kenma. He went upstairs to change out of his work clothing and then meandered back to the kitchen. He definitely didn’t need to go by Kenma’s every day. Even when he was having a particularly bad day, he seemed to be taking care of himself pretty well, but Kuroo figured it was probably good for him to have someone else around. After all, Kenma hadn’t said anything about it and he figured that Kenma would ask him to stop coming if he didn’t want him there. Kenma always had a knack for brutal honesty.

The front door opening caught him off guard. He was surprised to see Kenma walk through the door, pulling earbuds out of his ears.

“Sorry, I was out for a jog,” he said slipping off his shoes in the doorway.

“Oh, no need to be sorry, you just spooked me a bit,” he replied casually.

He thought it was weird that Kenma had been jogging. Kenma hated jogging. Recently he had come to like walks to help clear his mind, but he couldn’t imagine Kenma going for a casual jog. It made him think of the time a month or so ago when he dragged Kenma out of bed to go for a walk and he ended up sprinting to the forest. Maybe he wanted to feel his lungs burn again, but he didn’t seem that upset. Kuroo realized that he was probably overanalyzing the situation and shook the thought out of his head.

“You’ll be sorry in a minute when I turn my endless wrath towards you in Mario Kart.”

That sentence alone made Kuroo feel quite a bit better. It was just so Kenma, the Kenma he had always known. When they first met, they used to hardly talk at all, but once they did start talking, Kenma unlocked an absolutely endless trash talking ability. He did it while they played video games, and volleyball, and really just about everything in which he could.

“I look forward to completely shutting you out,” Kuroo responded with fake unfounded confidence.

They played mostly in silence, Kuroo coming close to winning a few races, but never succeeding. He also noticed that Kenma seemed to be intentionally avoiding Rainbow Road and that realization broke his heart just a pinch. He had been so in awe of the colors when he was able to see them all.

Just as Kuroo started to take the lead in the third lap of the course they were playing, Kenma quietly asked, “I assume you’ve been wondering if we’re going to get together now?”

It caught Kuroo way off guard. Perhaps that was Kenma’s goal. He was wondering if perhaps the point of the question was to get him to drive off the course. If so, it succeeded.

“No, I haven’t,” he answered honestly, “Because we aren’t.”

He was thankful for the distraction of the game. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to say what he needed to say without it.

“Why? Is it the grief? Does my misery make me unlovable?” he asked casually as if that wasn’t an incredibly loaded question.

He just slightly edged out Kuroo in the race too. Kuroo was too concerned with the line of conversation to be annoyed about it.

“I never said you were unlovable,” he pointed out as the next race begun.

“Then why wouldn’t you want to be with me if it’s not the grief?”

“Why are you asking me this? I’m sorry if I did something to confuse things,” he said quietly.

“It’s possible it occurred to me that I now understand what you went through over the last few years.”

Kuroo paused the game.

“Don’t say that. It’s not even vaguely comparable. What you’ve been through, what you’re going through, is so much worse than what I did,” he said firmly.

“Is it? I’m not convinced I could have watched Shouyou be in love with someone else for years,” Kenma asked.

“Look, I’m not saying it’s been fun or easy, but I still got to see you, got to see that you were happy and living your life to the fullest. It’s not even close to the same,” he insisted.

“Then why, why wouldn’t you want to be with me now? I don’t understand,” he said.

Kuroo thought for a moment of the correct way to phrase his points. He wanted to be clear. This was a serious and emotionally charged conversation. His words had consequences so he wanted to choose them carefully.

“Well, I suppose there are four reasons. The first is that you asked this question because of the grief you’re feeling. Being with you despite your grief would be one thing, being with you because of it is different,” he hesitated for a moment before continuing on, “The second is that I don’t think it’s okay for me to benefit off of his death, off of your pain. I morally refuse. By being with you, by getting what I’ve always wanted, it would almost be like I’d been waiting for this to happen, wanting this to happen and that is not only untrue but also deplorable. Does that make sense?”

It took Kenma a minute to digest the answer, “I don’t think your logic checks out, but I do understand what you’re trying to say. What else?”

“Oh, well, uh,” he started awkwardly, “I mean, how would people look at you? At us? I was the best man at his wedding. I gave a eulogy at his funeral. I really don’t think that looks good for either of us. I can practically see the headlines accusing you of infidelity. It would be an insult to you, and an insult to him, and an insult to what you had,” he pointed out.

“And the last reason?” Kenma asked, calmly.

“Isn’t three enough?” Kuroo asked, suddenly realizing he didn’t want to say the last one out loud.

“Not when I know there are four,” he insisted.

“I’m pretty sure the first three reasons were able to the solve the issue,” he responded as he unpaused the game.

“No,” Kenma said, pausing the game, “I’m not sure they were. So what is it?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Why not? I’m curious as to what you have to say. Do you not love me anymore? Is it that I’m no longer the Kenma you knew? Maybe that I’ve hardly been a functional person lately, even less so a fun person to be around? Is it that I was someone else’s Kenma and not yours?” he pondered out loud.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve never stopped loving you,” he firmly said, trying to make the point as clear as he could.

“So what is it then?” Kenma pressed.

Kuroo didn’t want to say it out loud. He knew it was true, of course he knew that, but for some reason, knowing something is true and being able to put it out in the open were two different beasts. He wasn’t sure how to say it, and he knew it made no sense, but somehow saying the true thing out loud, made it become real. He sat silently.

He then took a deep breath in to prepare for what he was going to say. It wasn’t going to be easy to say it out loud, but then he lost his nerve again.

“Because you don’t love me in the way that I love you,” he finally blurted out.

Kenma nodded, “You’re right.”

Those two words went straight through Kuroo’s heart. Just because the truth is objective, doesn’t mean it can’t affect people in subjective ways, and these words subjectively made him want to stop breathing forever.

“But,” Kenma continued, “I think I could learn to.”

“I really doubt it, but even if you could, there are the other three reasons, so don’t worry about it. Can we please go back to playing now?” he asked, biting back tears.

“I’m sorry,” Kenma said.

Kuroo didn’t respond.

“And upon the wind it's carried

Over the cities and the plains

You got time, you're on the mend, babe

And everybody wants the same

Everybody wants the same thing”

-You Worry Me, Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats

It had been almost two years since Shouyou had passed, and Kenma wanted to try streaming again. Kuroo sat in his office with him brainstorming the best way to go about it. They decided they wanted to do it unannounced so there wouldn’t be a big hairy press explosion about it beforehand. Surely there would be one during and after, but maybe having less buildup wouldn’t be a bad thing.

Kuroo put his glasses on and looked back at his laptop screen. He was reading through some possible questions they thought would come up in the chat. Obviously, he didn’t have to answer anything he didn’t want to, but they both thought it’d be better for him to practice beforehand.

“When did you get new glasses?” Kenma asked, “These are rounder, right?”

“I kept forgetting my glasses at work and then when I remembered to bring them to my apartment, I wouldn’t bring them back to work again, so I figured a second pair would help. I leave the other pair at my desk,” he responded.

They spent the better part of the hour going through their questions and then Kenma played the level he was planning on playing during the stream. He’d played it over and over in the last few days. He figured the stream would get to the point where it felt really out of his control, so doing as much as he could to control the gaming aspect itself would be a great help. Once he got through it easily, he decided he was going to just rip off the bandaid.

He asked if Kuroo would stay in the room but off camera, so Kuroo sat off screen on the bed with one earbud in. He watched carefully as Kenma streamed, doing his best to pay attention to his Kenma was doing, and how the chat was looking. He was ready to intervene at any moment.

He was surprised at how smoothly Kenma was going. It seemed as if he picked up where he left off. He littered his gameplay with sarcastic commentary, occasionally answering questions from the chat. They were both surprised by how many people had joined the stream, but it had been going okay so far. While his fans didn’t know the details of what had happened, they knew that it happened and kept spamming the chat with questions about it.

“Hmm, How did it feel when my soulmate unexpectedly died?” he read from the chat, “Believe it or not, it actually fucking sucked and I don’t recommend it.”

Kuroo held back a laugh. It seemed like his fans also found the sarcastic answer to not only be on brand, but to be pretty funny as well. That wasn’t they answer they’d practiced, but it was probably better anyway.

The stream ended up being a little under two hours, which was short for Kenma’s standards, but his facade was wearing thin and figured it was best to call it quits before it got too bad. Kuroo and Kenma discussed how it went over some pie.

“Oh, by the way, I have to work from home next week, I was wondering if I could borrow one of your WiFi amplifiers. The connection in my apartment is practically unbearable.”

“Why don’t you just move in here?” he asked casually.

“Kenma, I-“

“I mean just as a roommate. Think about it, there’s plenty of room for you here, you’re pretty much always here anyway, I work almost completely remotely so you’d be able to have my parking spot downtown, you wouldn’t have to keep paying rent, oh, and the WiFi is better,” he argued.

“I’m not sure,” he said.

“You definitely don’t have to but you’re welcome to if you want, but to answer your initial question, sure. Take the one from the living room.”

“I'd give it all; I'd give for us

Give anything, but I won't give up

'Cause you know,

That I love you

I have loved you all along

And I miss you

Been far away, for far too long”

-Far Away, Nickelback

Kuroo’s work from home week became a work from home half of a year. They had to go home for a week due to some construction in the building, but apparently there was some incident in which a water main burst, flooding the building and ruining just about everything inside. He was frustrated about it because it likely included the photos he had on his desk. Most of them were reprintable, but some weren’t. He’d find out whether or not they survived when they finished cleaning up the place, which should be soon enough.

“You taking lunch right now?” Kenma called from upstairs.

Kuroo had taken to working from the front room. He could do it from his bedroom, there was a nice desk in there, but he really enjoyed looking out of the window in the front room because it faced the street. He never realized until he officially moved in how many people there were in Kenma’s subdivision that liked to be out and about. He’d always loved people watching and the front window was a great place to do it. He smiled watching a bunch of younger kids bike by.

“Once I finish this email. Want me to make you lunch?” he asked.

“If you don’t mind. I’ll be down in a minute.”

Kuroo sent off his email and got up to make lunch. He lazily stretched as he went through the fridge figuring out what he wanted. He heard his friend come down the stairs as he was rooting through the fridge for an acceptable vegetable option.

“You know, I was thinking that we should-“ he started as he turned around to look at Kenma.

To his surprise, Kenma just started crying without saying a word. Kuroo reflexively wrapped his arms around him. They’d done this a lot over the last two or so years, but it hadn’t happened much lately. Of course Kenma had his bad days, how could he not, but they slowly became further apart and then less severe when he had them.

“It’ll be okay,” he holding Kenma’ head against his chest, “You’re going to be okay.”

Kenma wrenched himself away, tears in his eyes “No you don’t get it.”

“I know I don’t get it, but I don’t have to get it to be here for you,” Kuroo said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“No you don’t get it,” Kenma laughed, still crying, “Your glasses are so fucking ridiculous. Who buys lime green glasses? What is wrong with you?”