Chapter Text
11-4-15
Prompt:
Pairing: KuroBokuAkaKen
Rating:
Kenma couldn’t help but scratch at his wrist while Kuroo led him across the park. The damn thing had been itching all day, no matter how he adjusted the band he wore across it. Kenma hated thinking about the faulty numbers scrawled across his wrist.
“Why did I have to come, again?” he grumbled. Kuroo just snorted and grabbed his hand.
“Because I have a feeling you’re gonna love this guy,” Kuroo answered, tugging him a little faster. Kenma wrinkled his nose.
“I thought you said he was just like you.”
“Ouch, Kenma, and here I thought we were friends.” Kenma snickered under his breath and tugged his hand out of Kuroo’s, falling into step beside him. He walked close enough that their shoulders brushed. Kuroo seemed to understand, wrapping an arm around Kenma’s shoulders and holding him tight to his side, but not pressing any further.
By the time they reached the other side of the park, Kenma’s wrist was all but burning. Kuroo gave a shout and jogged off toward a boy with floppy white-and-black hair, and Kenma took the moment to jerk his sleeve up, pulling aside the leather bracelet he wore over his numbers.
00 : 00 : 00 : 00 : 00 : 00 : 01
Kenma frowned. That one wasn’t moving, but there was nothing unusual about that. Kenma’s timer had never moved.
The problem was that this morning - and every other morning for as long as Kenma could remember - that one had been a two. Kenma stared at his wrist incredulously. Distantly, he could hear Kuroo talking to the boy, but he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention. As Kenma stared at his wrist, the voices grew closer.
“Oh, wait, no way!” shouted the unfamiliar of the two. Kenma stiffened and looked up to see him scrabbling at his watch. He pulled it off and hooted loudly, waving his hand around in the air.
“Dude, I told you,” Kuroo said.
“Yeah, but it’s still awesome!” shouted the other.
“Care to fill me in?” Kenma mumbled, only loud enough for Kuroo to hear. Kuroo grinned and grabbed the boy’s wrist, holding it - and his own - out for Kenma to see.
00 : 00 : 00 : 00 : 00 : 00 : 01
Kenma stared incredulously. He had never seen Kuroo’s numbers before, preferring to ignore the subject entirely. But now there were two people in front of him with their timers stuck at exactly the same point as his.
“I wonder why they’re still stuck, though,” said the boy, staring at their wrists with an adorably confused expression. Kuroo shrugged.
“Maybe we’re not done yet,” he said.
“Aw, that’d be awesome!” the boy yelled. “Four soulmates!”
“Four what?” hissed Kenma, still clutching his wrist close to his chest.
“It makes sense, doesn’t it?” Kuroo asked. “I thought that you and I were just a fluke, since both of our timers stopped at two seconds rather than timing out, but then when I met Bokuto here his stopped at two and mine went down to one. So I figured I’d bring you to meet him and see what happened, and look!” Kuroo waved excitedly. “It has to mean something!”
“Yeah! Maybe we could find one more person, and all four of our timers will hit zero!” Bokuto was bouncing in place and Kuroo was ginning between the two of them and Kenma wanted to curl up and never emerge again. Kuroo noticed, because of course he did, and put a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder.
“Okay, Kenma, we can go home now if you want,” he said softly. Panic flooded Kenma’s veins and he shook his head wildly, hunching inward.
“Nah, you don’t have to go,” Bokuto said. “I’m actually supposed to meet with my team so we can go to the sports store. I’ve been thinking about some long kneepads.” He and Kuroo said their goodbyes, and then it was just the two of them in the park.
“Come on, Kitten,” Kuroo said. He settled an arm around Kenma’s shoulder and steered him toward a tree, sitting with his back to it and Kenma curled in his lap. “It’s okay. I’m sorry, I should have realized that would overwhelm you.” Kenma shook his head, hiding his face in the collar of his jacket.
“Why didn’t you tell me your timer didn’t work?” he whispered.
“I thought you knew,” Kuroo said. “I figured that was why you didn’t want to talk about it, because even though I was your soulmate, I clearly wasn’t enough. I’m sorry.” Kenma wanted to protest, to remind Kuroo that he was the broken one. But words were never Kenma’s strong point. They caught in his throat and dripped back down like mucus, or bile. He shook his head, pressing his face deeper into Kuroo’s shirt.
“Not you,” he whispered. It felt as though those two words had been the most difficult he had ever said, more difficult than coming out to his parents, more difficult than meeting his teammates for the first time two years ago, more difficult than absolutely anything. Kuroo rubbed a large palm up and down Kenma’s back.
“I promise, Kenma, you’re more than enough for me,” he said.
Clearly not.
“No, I mean it,” Kuroo insisted. “If I never saw Bokuto again and we never met our fourth person, I would want to spend every day of the rest of my life with you.”
No you wouldn’t.
“I really would. You’re my best friend for a reason.”
It was convenient.
“And I get it if you don’t want to be my friend anymore.” Kenma jerked back to stare at Kuroo, his heart breaking at the expression on his face.
“Why would I not be your friend?” he whispered, dreading the answer.
“Because of all this?” Kuroo answered. His face grew confused. “Because I let you think there was something wrong with you, and then I dragged you here to meet a person I knew would overwhelm you, soulmate or no, because I know you’re only my friend because I kept coming over when we were kids, but now we’re old enough that you don’t have to put up with me.”
Kenma wasn’t sure if he was more angry or saddened at the words pouring out of Kuroo, but he was sure that this was more emotion than he had ever felt before. His nose and eyes stung, and all at once he was sobbing and punching Kuroo and trembling and he wanted to shout, wanted to scream until there was nothing left, no voice, no emotion, no tears, no stupid timers telling him that he would never be whole, never be good enough for whatever person was out there who was unlucky enough to match him, for Kuroo, for Bokuto, for the mysterious fourth.
For his part, Kuroo just took the abuse. When Kenma exhausted himself and slumped against Kuroo’s chest, he held him close, rocking back and forth.
“You’re the best thing I have,” he sobbed. One hand clutched at the fabric of Kuroo’s shirt, the other - the traitor - was curled against his body. “Don’t leave me.”
“I would never,” Kuroo whispered. “You’re stuck with me forever, Kitten.” It didn’t matter if it was the sentiment or the old, irritating nickname that did it, but Kenma’s mood lifted. He moved a hand to Kuroo’s shoulder, sliding it down until it cupped the back of his wrist. Kuroo allowed him to angle his hand palm-upwards, marveling at the neat row of numbers etched there. He traced his finger along them, feeling the warmth from the skin as he did so.
“I thought I would be alone forever,” Kenma murmured. Kuroo whimpered and clutched Kenma against him.
“I would never let that happen,” he said fiercely.
“I know,” Kenma replied. “I just- four.”
“Listen, you don’t have to get to know them if you don’t want to,” Kuroo said. “I already told Bokuto, I’ll go along with whatever makes you feel comfortable.”
“I want to get to know them,” Kenma replied. Kuroo’s arms tightened even more.
“Good,” he breathed into Kenma’s hair. “Good, I’m glad.”
Kenma stared up at his friend, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “You like him,” he teased, delighting in the flush that crossed Kuroo’s cheeks.
“So what?” he huffed, looking away.
“Nothing,” Kenma replied. He was smiling wider now. “So, what do you know about him?”
“Why, so you can make fun of me?” Kuroo grumbled. Kenma snorted and leaned his head against Kuroo’s shoulder.
“No, idiot, so I can get to know him,” he said. He could just see the edge of Kuroo’s grin from this angle.
“Well, his name’s Bokuto Koutarou, and he’s a first year at Fukurodani,” Kuroo started.