The strip of light coming from under Kuro’s door is indication enough that Kenma doesn’t need to be quiet despite the late hour. It’s almost midnight on a Tuesday, but Kuro has an assignment due Saturday, and he’s nothing if not an over achiever who delivers all his assignments three days too early—even if he has to skip sleep for a couple of nights to do it. Kenma just skips sleep for fun. 

Kenma walks into his room—bowl of instant ramen in one hand, can of Red Bull in the other—just in time to hear his phone buzz on the bedside table. Taking a look at his PC before getting back in bed, he sees the 85% on the exporting process of his newest play-through, and sighs. He can’t afford a new computer, not yet. The laptop is right where he had left it, open on top of the blanket, and the screen is paused on a frankly weird looking frame from a romantic comedy show Shoyo had suggested he watch a couple of months ago. 

Speaking of.

Shoyo

Shoyo

r u there? 23:48

Kenma

yeah im here 23:51

youre up late 23:51

Shoyo

cant sleep 23:52

cant stop thinking 23:52

Kenma

about what 23:53

Shoyo

can i ask u smth personal? 23:54

Kenma

sure go ahead 23:55

The bubbles indicating Shoyo’s typing come in and out of the screen, and Kenma’s curious. Shoyo has never been shy, and, more than that, he has never hesitated, not once in his life.

Shoyo

Shoyo

have u ever liked a boy? 00:03

like romantically? 00:04

Kenma

oh 00:05

Shit, he thinks. He had not meant to send an oh. Who the hell sends an oh? He types and types, but nothing comes out of it; yes, I’m a homosexual, is not an appropriate response when your friend is having a hard time falling asleep, and seemingly having a sexuality crisis.

Shoyo

Shoyo

forget it im sorry thats a stupid question 00:09

Kenma

no its okay 00:10

i have 00:11

ive never liked a girl actually 00:11

The damned bubbles keep popping up and disappearing again. Every time they stop, Kenma’s breath stops with them, terrified of whatever's coming. Is Shoyo disgusted? Maybe he’s not having a sexuality crisis, maybe he found out Tsukishima’s gay—Kenma’s gaydar strongly suggests it—and he hates him now. Oh god, what if Shoyo is homoph– nah, no way. Shoyo? Sunshine personified, a homophobe? No way. 

No way.

Still. Asking doesn’t hurt.

Shoyo

Kenma

shoyo? 00:20

does it bother you? 00:21

Shoyo

!!!! 00:22

NO 00:22

i like boys too 00:23

and girls 00:24

theres not even a difference for me honestly 00:24

but i just dont know if thats normal or if people are gonna think its weird or gross 00:25

im kinda scared of talking to my friends about it bc what if they hate me for it? 00:26

Kenma

why would they hate you? 00:28

your friends are good people 00:29

Shoyo

i know but its not like liking boys is accepted here 00:30

Kenma

so no one else knows but me? 00:31

Shoyo

yeah 00:33

ure the only one 00:33

Kenma

:) 00:34

im glad you trust me 00:35

Shoyo

im glad u trust me too 00:36

does anyone know? 00:37

about u? 00:37

Kenma

kuro knows im gay and i think everyone else on the team knows it too but ive never actually come out 00:38

Shoyo

and its not a problem? 00:40

Kenma

no ones ever said anything about it 00:42

i mean 00:43

Shoyo

? 00:43

Kenma

someone from a different school made a really rude comment about it when i was in first year, it wasnt even directly to me but they were looking at me and said “their setter looks like hed probably thank you if you made him suck your dick” which 1) ew he was ugly and 2) that’s crazy rude 00:47

Shoyo

holy crap wtf 00:48

Kenma

yeah 00:48

but everyone on the team defended me i think yaku even threw a punch 00:50

it was great tbh i felt really happy to have them as my friends 00:51

Shoyo

thats awesome id have thrown hands for u too!! 00:52

Kenma

i know :) 00:53

im 100% sure your friends would do the same 00:54

for what its worth i have a decent gaydar and its always tingling with your team 00:55

Shoyo

lol u sure its not just me? 00:56

Kenma

hmm dont know if i should share my suspicions 00:57

what if i’m wrong 00:58

or worse 00:58

what if im right and im outing someone without their consent 00:59

Shoyo

ok ok ur right 01:00

i gtg sleep 01:01

thank u kenma ure the best 01:02

srsly i dnt know what id do wo u 01:03

Kenma

:) 01:04

goodnight shoyo 01:04

Shoyo

gn kenma!! 01:05

Kenma’s smiling at his phone, something warm and fuzzy growing in his stomach, when his phone dings again.

Shoyo

Shoyo

<3 01:08

“Ah!” he throws his phone away as if it burned him. It lands with a soft thud, on the comforter, at the foot of the bed. He feels himself blush, that warm fuzzy feeling spreading everywhere on his body. 

After a couple of minutes of calming himself down, and some careful consideration, Kenma decides that he’s brave enough, strong enough, to send a heart back. 

Shoyo

Kenma

<3 00:31

It doesn’t have to be romantic.

It probably isn’t.

It can’t be. 

Shoyo has to have someone in mind if he’s asking about liking boys, and no sane person would go to their own crush to ask for advice. Right? So, obviously, Kenma is not Shoyo’s boy crush. And possible gay awakening.

Kenma turns to the forgotten bowl of ramen, now cold, and decides to microwave it. The can of Red Bull is chugged while the timer goes down—it’s not like Kenma would be getting any sleep tonight, after that whole thing.

Wait, why not?

If Kuro were to walk in their kitchen, he’d see Kenma eating ramen while staring at an empty can of Red Bull with a deep frown on his face. Kenma knows he looks stupid—probably deranged, actually—with his brows furrowed, slurping instant noodles, staring at an aluminium can as if it holds the secrets of the universe. But what else is he to do? 

“I know I use you as an excuse to not sleep a lot, Red Bull,” he says, out loud, “but that’s usually to watch, or play something, not to avoid sleeping altogether.”

This is it, he thinks. I’ve gone insane. I’m talking to a can of Red Bull. Note to self: look for a therapist.

“So? What’s different today?” Dear lord, I hope the can doesn’t talk back to me.

“You’re talking to a can of Red Bull at one thirty in the morning, that’s what’s fucking different.”

“Ah!” Kenma yells, and jumps, and drops the still hot noodles on his bare feet. “Shit! Fuck, ow ow ow!”

Kuro is leaning against the door frame, and Kenma turns his head up just in time to see his stupid smirk morph into an open-mouthed laugh.

“Holy shit,” Kuro tries to say in between laughs. “You totally thought I was the can!” He’s breathing hard, barely speaking, trying to stop laughing.

“Did not,” he says, cleaning his feet, and the kitchen floor, with a rag.

“Oh, you totally did,” Kuro fans himself with his hand, breathes out, and tries to make his face go back to a smirk instead of an overly amused grin. He grabs a different rag and starts helping Kenma clean. “What’s got you speaking to an empty can?” He asks, grabbing said can and throwing it in the recycling bin. 

“It’s just,” Kenma groans, and lets gravity win. He drops his ass to the floor and puts his head on his knees. Kuro approaches him and bends down to grab the rag he’d dropped and drops it on the sink, before sitting cross-legged next to him.

“C’mon, tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head.”

Kenma fills his cheeks with air and blows it out through pursed lips. He looks back up at Kuro, “Shoyo texted, ‘cause he couldn’t sleep, and–”

“Damn, Shrimpy, get it,” Kuro wiggles his eyebrows.

“Not like that, you pervert!” Kenma doesn’t move, but imagines himself slapping him on the back of the head. 

“Sorry, sorry, go on.”

“He asked about my sexuality–”

“He was hitting on you.”

“Interrupt me again, and I’m telling your grandmother you’re the one who puked in her rosebush in high school.” Kuro mimes locking his lips and throwing the key away, and Kenma waits for a few seconds to speak again. “He was asking about people’s reactions to my sexuality, he’s worried about what people might think about him. I’m not even sure if he’s sure he likes boys,” he sighs. “If he liked me, he wouldn’t be asking me about that, right?”

Kuro shrugs.

“You can speak, now.”

“I did that a lot,” Kuro smiles, “and it worked. It’s called flirting, you should try it.”

“Who would I flirt with?”

“Hinata, duh.”

“Wha– why?!” He feels himself blush.

“Kenma, you’ve been in love with him since day one.”

“I have not!” His cheeks get warmer.

Kuro sighs, and stops to think for a few seconds. 

“I got it,” he says, grabbing Kenma by the shoulders. “I’m going to ask you something, and you can’t stop to think,” he says. Kenma nods. “What do you think is going to happen if you go to sleep right now?” 

“I’m going to dream about his smile and his face and Kageyama.”

“Kage– what?”

“He’s totally in love with Kageyama.”

“I–” Kuro sighs, again. “Can you just admit you like him?”

“Kageyama?”

“God, Kenma, no! Hinata!”

“Fine, maybe I do! He sent me a heart and I freaked out so bad I threw my phone across the room!” An exaggeration, but Kuro doesn’t need to know that.

“A heart?! Please tell me you sent one back!”

“I did!”

“Ah!”

“Ah!”

It’s two in the morning, they’re both yelling and their neighbours are going to file a complaint, but that doesn’t matter; Kenma has had a breakthrough. The next thing Kenma knows, they’re leaning against the fridge, laughing like that time they pulled a prank on Kuro’s dad way back in elementary school. 

“I feel like a middle school girl with a crush,” Kenma says, leaning his head on Kuro’s shoulder.

“I was so much worse than you,” Kuro pats his hair. “Don’t think I ever thanked you for putting up with me.”

“You’re welcome. I have a lot of blackmail material,” Kenma smirks. Kuro scoffs, but says nothing.

Eventually, Kenma goes to bed, and sleeps.

And he dreams. Not of Kageyama, no. Kenma dreams of laying on a field, on a bed of dandelions. It’s midday—the sun is at its peak, and it’s shining so brightly, all he sees when he closes his eyes are bright orange spots. But he’s still cold. The sun is shining, the ground is warm, but he’s cold. He hears a whisper,

“Kenma, look!”

He blinks his eyes open and turns his head to see Shoyo sitting next to him, a black and orange butterfly perched on his nose, like he’s a god damned Disney princess. His eyes are crossed as he focuses on the little bug, his cheeks are pink with excitement and squished in that way that only happens when he’s smiling his widest, his happiest. 

Kenma doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move. The sunlight has finally warmed him from the inside out. Shoyo stays focused on the butterfly, and Kenma stays focused on Shoyo. His hand burns, soft and sweet, when Shoyo intertwines their fingers.

When he wakes up from the best sleep he’s ever had, more relaxed than ever and still thinking of sunshine and butterflies, Kenma knows.

I’m fucked.

This isn’t something he’s going to get over.

A week ago, Shoyo woke up at midnight, sweating, to a dark room and a quiet house. He had passed out after practice without eating dinner, and sleeping on an empty stomach always made him have strange dreams. Nightmares, usually—not, uhm, wet dreams. But the reasoning stands. So, when he woke up, sweaty and with sticky underwear, after dreaming of Kenma sitting (and grinding) on his crotch and calling his name with that breathy voice of his, Shoyo decided to—like any other half-asleep person would—text the literal object of his dream. 

The next day, Shoyo told Kageyama about his night. Not the wet dream part—that’s embarrassing and definitely TMI—but the realizations. He told him of the realization that he likes boys and girls, which happened when he typed ‘i like boys too’, and it just… made sense. Shoyo had never thought about it before, not until that very moment, but he accepted it as an unwavering truth about himself; he told him of the fear of rejection he had felt, but that Kenma had assuaged; and he told him of the biggest realization of all, that he liked Kenma. According to Kageyama, it’s stupid that it took him so long to get it when it was obvious since the first time you met. Also according to Kageyama, Kenma has a crush on him. That’s a little hard to believe, since it was obvious from the start, to Shoyo, that Kenma and Kuroo-san are a thing. Even if it hadn’t been obvious from the very beginning, the amount of times Kenma has mentioned Kuroo-san over this past week has made everything very clear. 

Shoyo doesn’t have a chance.

“You should just tell him,” Kageyama says, after Shoyo has his third meltdown of the week because why does Kenma keep sending him hearts! “I’m good at reading people.”

No you aren’t, Shoyo thinks. They’re walking from the classroom to their lunch spot, where Yamaguchi, Yachi, and Tsukishima are probably already waiting for them.

“I know he feels the same for you, Hinata. He’s as obsessed with you as he is with video games.”

“Whoa, that’s a big claim, Kageyama!”

“I bet a hundred yen he’d pause a video game for you,” Kageyama challenges. 

Shoyo pouts, “He pauses video games for Kuroo all the time.”

“I’m getting tired of hearing you complain. It’s gonna work out fine if you just confess to him!”

“Shut up, Kageyama! I’m not going to confess to Kenma! He’s dating Kuroo-san!”

“What did you say?” Tsukishima, who’s sitting right next to him, stops opening his bento and looks straight at Shoyo.

“Shit. Uhm… Kenma is dating Kuroo-san?” Crap. Did Shoyo just out Kenma? And Kuroo-san? Oh frick, he outed himself!

“Well, I have to go to Tokyo and beat someone up.”

“What, why?”

“Because if Kuroo is cheating on his boyfriend with Kenma, I’m going to kill him. Both of them.”

“So… Kenma isn’t dating Kuroo-san?”

“No, Kuroo and Bokuto have been dating for, like, a year now. Did you not know about it?”

“No!” The four of them shout. 

“Huh. Interesting,” Tsukishima murmurs. “Heh, I’m special,” he says with that annoying smirk of his.

“Oh, fuck off, Tsukishima,” Shoyo feels himself pout. Before allowing himself to drown in a pity party of self-doubt because Bokuto-san doesn’t trust him enough to tell him things even Tsukishima knows, Shoyo grabs his phone and immediately goes to his conversation with Kenma, the world around him forgotten.

Kenma

Shoyo

hmm did u kno about 16:03

fuck idk if i should say it what if you DONT know and im breaking someones trust by saying it 16:03

on the other hand tsukki knows so you most defiantly know too 16:05

Kenma

just spit it out shoyo 16:06

Shoyo

okok 16:07

did you know about bokuto-san and kuroo-san dating? 16:10

Kenma

obviously 16:11

i was there with akaashi when they confessed it was horrible lol 16:12

Shoyo

its just that 16:15

ugh i hate that this is affecting me 16:16

why did tsukki know and i didnt? i thought i was close to bokuto-san yknow? 16:18

Kenma

oh shoyo 16:19

you are 16:19

theyve been keeping it a secret because bokuto is going pro and they know being in a same sex relationship is frowned upon especially for a pro athlete 16:22

Shoyo

i guess… 16:22

thanks kenma :) 16:23

Kenma

np <3 16:25

and tbf they have a weird soft spot for tsukishima 16:26

Shoyo

right 16:27

Kenma

anyway im pretty sure tsukishima only found out bc he asked kuro for ~love advice~ 16:28

Shoyo

!!!! 16:30

ABOUT WHO ?!!?!??!?! 16:30

Kenma

lol that i do now know i promise 16:32

Putting his phone back in his pocket, Shoyo tunes back into reality.

“Tsukishimaaaaaaa!”

“I am literally sitting next to you. I am so close, our legs are touching. Did you really have to yell my name?”

Shoyo sits up on his knees and grabs Tsukishima by the shoulders, shaking him.

“Do you have a crush on someone? Do you like someone? Do they like you back? Are you already dating? Who is it!” 

Tshukishima’s blushing when he, softly, pushes Shoyo back.

“None of your business!”

As he sits back down, Shoyo sees, from the corner of his eye, a red-faced Kageyama.

“No way,” Shoyo says. “No freaking way.”

“Oh. My. God.” Yachi whispers.

“How long?!” Yamaguchi yells. “Tsukki! Why didn’t you tell me?”

—

Later that night, Shoyo fills Kenma in on the news.

Kenma

Shoyo

9 months! 20:03

and they didnt tell anyone! 20:03

nd the wrost part is we didnt even suspect it 20:04

Kenma

oh wow i would have bet on literally anyone else 20:07

—

Their conversations are always brushing on flirting, but Shoyo is never certain they’re actually flirting. He likes Kenma, he knows that. Eventually, through a lot of very awkward conversations with Tsukishima and Kageyama, Shoyo realises he’s in love with Kenma. After some time, they move on from daily texting to nightly phone calls.

“We had a practice match with Seijoh today, and Kunimi was talking about stocks and investments. You do that, right?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Is it going well?”

“Mhm.”

“Are you rich now?”

“Ah,” Kenma laughs, “not really.”

“If you do get rich, what will you do with the money?”

“Hmm,” he pauses. Shoyo loves to hear Kenma humming. “I think I’ll start a sportswear brand.”

“Whoa! I want samples of everything!”

“I’ll make sure to have you as my first customer.”

—

“Remember what I told you about posting videos of me playing games online?”

“Yeah! I still haven’t watched any.”

“It’s okay, it’s a little embarrassing, anyway,” Kenma hums. It’s still one of Shoyo’s favourite sounds, right next to a volleyball hitting the court after he spikes it. “People asked me to start live-streaming when I play,” he laughs, something small and almost like he’s trying not to, but he does, and it’s beautiful, and Shoyo needs to start organising ‘Kenma sounds’ in his mind, because Shoyo loves every single sound Kenma makes. “It’s going really well,” he goes on, unaware of Shoyo’s fascination with his voice. “I might start that company sooner than I expected.”

The day Kenma sets up Bouncing Ball Corporation, after several gruelling meetings with a business manager and a lawyer, the only thing he wants to do is call Shoyo and hear his voice. Shoyo’s voice is sharp and warm, and even though he’s usually loud, he’s soft-spoken at night—maybe because his sister’s asleep, maybe because he knows Kenma likes the quiet; whichever it is, hearing him speak softly after a long day is Kenma’s new favourite—only—drug. 

“I have news,” Shoyo says, quieter than usual. He seems nervous.

“I’m at the edge of my seat,” Kenma deadpans. Shoyo chuckles, and it makes something in Kenma’s stomach squirm.

“Coach Washijo—you know, from Shiratorizawa—got me in contact with a beach volleyball coach.”

“That's amazing, Shoyo! You’ve been thinking about beach for a while,” he says. “You don't sound super happy, though.”

“I am, I am! But…” he inhales, “it’s in Brazil.”

“Oh. That’s–”

“Far away.”

“Yeah.”

“I know I’d be a fool not to take it, but…”

“I get it.”

“I don't even know how I’m gonna get the money to go.”

“I’ll sponsor you.”

“What?”

“I set up my company today. I’ll sponsor you,” Kenma says. He means it, too. “I’ll pay for your ticket. And a monthly allowance.”

“What do you get in return?”

“You wear our clothes. To train, to matches,” he says.

My mark on you, he thinks.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“You're the best, Kenma.”

Anything for you, he thinks.

“I just believe in you,” he says.

—

Kenma meets Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi in the stands for Kageyama’s first professional game. Shoyo and his friends join them a few minutes later, just in time for the game to start. Kageyama isn’t a starter yet, but he plays almost the entirety of the second set, and he’s incredible. Kenma feels Shoyo practically vibrate next to him, radiating an aura of excitement, his body practically screaming me too, me too, me too. His hand goes on Shoyo’s thigh to stop him, fingers squeezing his knee, and Shoyo stops moving. He seems to stop breathing too, and now that he’s thinking about it, Kenma isn’t sure he’s breathing either. Shoyo looks at him, and smiles. He’s blushing, and Kenma is too, and then Shoyo’s hand covers his, and wow, when did Shoyo’s hand get so big? They don’t speak, but spend the rest of the game with their fingers intertwined, and Shoyo’s thumb rubbing the back of Kenma’s hand. It’s the happiest he’s ever been.

When they’re all saying their goodbyes, Kenma squares his shoulders and makes a decision. Today, he tells Shoyo he loves him.

“Shoy–”

“Don’t,” Shoyo takes both his hands, and brings them to his face. He kisses Kenma’s knuckles. “I’m going to Brazil for two years,” he kisses them again. “Be here when I come back?”

“However long it takes,” Kenma watches as Shoyo drops their hands; closes his eyes as Shoyo’s hand tucks a strand of half-dyed hair behind his ear; holds his breath as Shoyo leaves a kiss on his temple.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s alone. Kuro holds him as he cries, that night.

—

They hug without a word right before Shoyo goes through security. Two years, Shoyo mouths.

—

Shoyo calls him every other day, because he calls Kageyama on the off days—Kenma shouldn’t be jealous, he’d call Kuro every day, too, if they were that far apart. 

One day, Shoyo asks to Skype.

“I’ve told you about my roommate, Pedro, right? How he’s learning Japanese?” Shoyo’s voice sounds from the phone’s speaker, as Kenma finishes a History paper.

“Yeah,” Kenma says, absent-mindedly. He’s more than happy to hear Shoyo speak, relaxing his every muscle before the stressful act of submitting a term paper.

“You know how he got so good at understanding Japanese?”

Kenma hums, “Anime without subtitles?”

“You!” Shoyo exclaims. “He loves your streams, he’s a big fan.”

“Oh,” Kenma presses enter, “tell him thanks, then.”

“Can we Skype? I’m sure he’d love to meet you.”

He looks at his phone, sitting on top of a book pile to the left of his monitor, like it just said unicorns are real. Kenma jumps at the chance to see Shoyo’s face again, even if it’s through a screen. It hasn’t been that long since they'd seen each other, not compared to how little they'd see of the other when Shoyo was in Miyagi and Kenma in Tokyo, but it feels like an eternity— distance will do that to you.

“Sure, I’m already at the computer.”

“Let me get my laptop!” Kenma hears ruffling from the line, and Shoyo speaks again. “What’s your username?”

Oh no, abort.

“Ugh,” he groans, “it’s embarrassing.”

“Oh, come on! Mine is littlegiant21, can’t be more embarrassing than that!” Kenma types Shoyo’s username into the search bar.

“You’re underestimating middle school Kenma and Kuro, Shoyo.”

“Just spit it out!”

“It’s,” he sighs, “kyanma95.”

“Kyan… ma?” Shoyo bursts out laughing.

“I told you it was embarrassing!”

“It’s cute, it’s cute! Oh, you added me,” Shoyo says, and then Kenma’s screen lights up with a call request. “Accept, accept!”

Kenma does. He clicks the accept call button, phone call forgotten, and the screen fills up with a blurry image of Shoyo, his smile wide and bright and beautiful. He’s gorgeous. Kenma doesn’t know how he got so lucky, meeting someone so beautiful inside and out.

“Hi,” he breathes out, barely audible.

“Hey,” Shoyo says, his smile getting smaller, shier, but not any less happy. He looks like he might be blushing, and Kenma considers sending him a better webcam.

They just sit there, looking at each other without speaking, for a couple of minutes, until Shoyo claps his hands and calls his roommate.

“Pedro!” He shouts. “Come here! There’s someone I want you to meet,” he says, in Japanese, not any slower than if he were speaking to a native.

“He understands you that well?”

“Yeah, you’ll see!”

A boy, probably around their age, with dark skin, and dark hair, and dark eyes—so different from Shoyo—walks into frame. He inhales sharply when he sees the screen.

“Kodzuken!” He yells. “I’m a big fan!” His Japanese is passable, he’d do well in Japan. He might sound fluent after two years of living with Shoyo. Kenma feels bile coming up his throat at the thought. 

“Ah,” Kenma scratches his cheek, “thank you. It’s always nice to meet someone who watches the stream.” It really is, even if it’s always awkward and if he’d always rather be anyone, and anywhere, else. Right now, all he wants is to look at Shoyo. He might have to suggest Skyping more often.

“Are you guys good friends?” Pedro asks.

“Yeah,” Kenma says.

“Ele é o amor da minha vida,” Shoyo says, in Portuguese. Kenma doesn’t know what he said, but, even though his smile is big and bright, his eyes are sad, sadder than Kenma’s ever seen them.

“Sorry,” he can’t handle it, “I have a paper to finish. It’s due in two hours.”

“Oh, okay,” Shoyo looks surprised, scared almost. What did he say? “I’ll text you?”

“Yeah, text me.”

“Bye,” the sad eyes, the sad smile, they make Kenma feel like he swallowed a brick.

“Bye, Shoyo. It was nice meeting you, Pedro,” he ends the call. He’s sure he butchered the poor boy’s name, but he doesn’t really care. Not when he can’t stop thinking about those words that he didn’t understand, but that Shoyo said with such sadness in his eyes, in his voice.

—

They Skype once a month, after that. He shouts Pedro out on one of his streams. 

When Shoyo left, two years sounded like an eternity. But that went by much faster than this freaking layover. Kenma insisted on paying for his flight back home—‘as your sponsor’, he had said, before buying the most expensive flight available. Thankfully, it was also the shortest, and only had one stop.

It’s the middle of the night in Japan, but he knows Kenma well enough. He orders some food, sits on one of the restaurant’s tables, and connects to the airport Wi-Fi.

Kenma

Shoyo

im in dubai 23:35

eating a hamburger 23:36

Kenma

im in tokyo eating instant ramen and drinking red bull 23:38

youre not special 23:39

Shoyo

:) 23:41

12 hours 23:42

Kenma

12 hours <3 23:45

Shoyo

<3 23:46

Shoyo can’t wait to be home.

—

Shoyo told his family, and his friends, not to go to the airport. He told them he’d take the bullet train back to Sendai, and then take a taxi home. He said that all he wanted was to get home, get some food in his stomach, and sleep the jet lag away. 

But.

After grabbing his two checked bags, he walks to the arrivals area. He looks around, seeing people in suits holding pieces of paper with foreign names, young people with flowers and chocolates waiting for their lovers, a father and a child hugging the mother returning from abroad.

And Kenma.

Kenma, with nothing but his long, long hair in a half-up bun, his shining golden eyes, and a smile on his face.

Without taking their eyes off each other, they walk to meet in the middle. They walk slowly, and Shoyo is thankful for that—he isn’t sure he’s ready, he isn’t sure he’s breathing, hell, he isn’t sure he’s even awake. So, when they stop and face each other, Shoyo closes his eyes, and opens them back up. Kenma’s still there, in front of him.

“I’m home,” Shoyo says, feeling the tears come to his eyes.

Kenma’s hands move to his cheeks, cupping Shoyo’s face as if he’s precious. Shoyo leans into the touch. Kenma’s hands are cold.

It’s been two years since Shoyo left for Brazil. Three, since he realized he was in love with Kenma. Five, since he actually fell in love with Kenma.

“Welcome home,” and finally, finally, Kenma kisses him.