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One day, Fukuronadi Academy was invited to play a practice match at Nekoma. It was a hot afternoon in Tokyo, and it felt as if the asphalt was melting under the feet of the passerby. Naturally, everyone was wearing as less clothes as possible – while still keeping it “decent”, as the coaches had ordered them.
Everyone was wearing light clothes. Everyone, except Akaashi Keiji, Kuroo noticed.
The slender man walked out of the changing rooms with a dark blue long-sleeved shirt under his light jersey, and with equally dark knee-length leggings under his shorts. Could it be a change of style? Kuroo wondered silently, making his way to the court, wearing a thin white shirt and light shorts, yet those still felt excessively hot in the heavy weather. But – with this heat…?
He slowly approached the net, taking his position on the court, and he found himself facing the one he’d been discretely eyeing since he had stepped into the gym. He took a step closer to Akaashi, who was looking to the side, outside of the court.
“Hey, looking kinda cool like that.” Kuroo spoke honestly, a grin pulling at the sides of his lips.
But there was no smile on the other’s lips, no spark of life in his eyes, and Kuroo noticed dark bags under Akaashi’s eyes when he turned to look at him and answered flatly. “Thanks.”
Kuroo frowned, a little confused. There was something wrong with Akaashi, but he didn’t know what.
***
Nekoma won the practice match. By a lot – 25-13 and 25-9.
Akaashi’s tosses just hadn’t worked at all, which had caused Bokuto to go into his “dejected mode” and had had Akaashi be replaced midway through the first set. The mood was tense and awkward, Kuroo had noticed, but apparently no one – not even the most intelligent and quick-witted players, not even Kuroo himself – could put their finger on what was causing it to be like that.
It wasn’t until both teams shook hands at the end of the unofficial match that everything – or at least part of everything – dawned on him.
He had just shaken hands with a back-to-normal Bokuto – who had brightly told him how good his spikes had been, ‘but never as good as mine!’ – when it was the turn to meet Akaashi’s hand.
Kuroo, his typical shit-eating grin plastered on his face, even though he still felt something wrong in the atmosphere, looked into Akaashi’s eyes – which seemed to be far away from where he stood physically – and then down to find the other’s hand. There he saw that Akaashi’s sleeve was slightly pulled up and revealed –
Dark red.
Number and number of long streaks of dried red, carved deep into the inside of Akaashi’s wrist and disappearing under the dark fabric.
Kuroo froze, subconsciously squeezing Akaashi’s weak hand into his own bone-breaking grip, eyes glued to Akaashi’s wounded wrist until the younger one hastily pulled the sleeve back over his scars and yanked his hand away from Kuroo’s.
Kuroo’s heart beat loudly in his ears as he gazed at Akaashi’s back while the setter walked away from him, his shoulders sagging and his head hanging low.
No one but him had noticed about Akaashi’s slip.
“Kuroo, you okay? Let’s go get changed before we go eat dinner.”
Kuroo was pulled back to reality by Kenma’s soft voice. The smaller one stood beside him, looking up at him with an eyebrow cocked. “Something wrong?”
“No. I’m fine. Let’s go.” He willed himself to smile, and patted Kenma’s back with a hand that he hoped wasn’t trembling.
***
“Thank you for the food!” Bokuto roared as he dug his chopsticks into his rice bowl.
It was an old tradition for Nekoma to invite their practice opponents to eat dinner at their school. And that’s how both teams, their coaches and Fukurodani’s managers included, found themselves at one of the long tables at the back of the busy cafeteria.
Kuroo shoot a quick sideways glance to the far left end of the table, by the wall. Akaashi was leaning over his plate, an elbow propped onto the table and his chin pressed into his hand. He was gazing absentmindedly at his food, picking pieces of tempura vegetables with his chopsticks then letting them fall back into the plate. By his side, Komi seemed to be “chatting” lively with him, although Akaashi only nodded to him whenever he was required to give some sort of answer.
Kuroo finished three plates of vegetables and pork, as well as two rice bowls.
Akaashi’s glass of water was halfway emptied.
***
“Thanks for coming, bro.” Kuroo spoke, grabbing Bokuto’s hand in his and patting his back as Bokuto did the same.
“Nah, thanks for inviting us!” Bokuto said.
They parted, equally large grins pulling up their lips, and the owl-like man trotted away to say goodbye to the other Nekoma members.
Kuroo looked around and found Akaashi leaning against a wall, his phone in his hands and his gaze stuck to the small screen as he scrolled slowly. The younger one was now clad with his thick volleyball jacket and pants, despite the crushing weather.
Kuroo approached him slowly and stood in front of him. When the other looked up, Kuroo was met with unfocused eyes devoid of any light. His heart sank to his feet.
“Alright?” Kuroo asked softly, his arm twitching by his side as he prevented himself from reaching up and stroking Akaashi’s shoulder.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kuroo-san.” Akaashi averted his gaze. “See you soon.” He whispered, then pushed himself away from the wall and approached his teammates as they descended the stairs of the school’s entrance.
Dumbstruck, Kuroo waved at Fukurodani Academy’s volleyball team, whose members smiled and waved back as they made their way to the nearest train station.
Not once did Akaashi look back in his direction.
***
Kuroo and Kenma usually exited at the same train station, their houses only being a few blocks apart from each other, but this time Kuroo stayed inside the train.
“I just need to do some stuff.” Kuroo said when he was met with Kenma’s confused stare after he had told him to go on ahead without him.
“But you said you’d help me with my creative writing paper.” Kenma’s voice was soft as usual, but his friend’s expression let Kuroo know he was slightly disappointed.
The kid was pretty bad at creative writing, his strength being math and science, therefore he depended on Kuroo’s tutoring to pass that class every year. Kuroo knew that, but still –
“I won’t be long. And if there’s a holdup, I’ll text you.”
“Okay…”
Kenma waved him goodbye, and Kuroo smiled back at him as the doors of the train closed in front of him.
***
The destination he was looking for wasn’t very far away from the train station he’d exited at. He found the house easily, having already come there on some other occasions along with Bokuto.
Kuroo squirmed on the doorstep, hesitant about his decision to come there the same day he’d made his discovery, but he finally reached up his hand and knocked on the wooden door.
A few moments passed without response, and Kuroo almost turned around and walked away, almost ashamed that he was still standing in front of the door, when it was opened in front of him.
“Oh! Kuroo-kun!” Akaashi’s mother spoke happily. “What a lovely surprise!”
“It’s a pleasure to see you, Akaashi-sama.” Kuroo said, and bowed in front of her.
“God, always so formal. Relax a little!” She laughed softly, shaking her hand in front of him. “I supposed you’re see Keiji?”
Kuroo nodded. “Is he here?”
“Yes! He came back a while ago. He must be in his room, I’ll go and get him. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable.” She said as she stepped aside and motioned Kuroo to come inside.
“Thank you.” Kuroo said. “I apologize for the intrusion.” He whispered as he stepped inside, bowing once more before kneeling down and taking his shoes off.
He didn’t have time to take off his jacket, for when he was about to unzip it he heard fast, heavy steps making their way to the entrance, to him.
“Well, I’ll let you guys do your things as I make preparations for supper! Will you stay and eat with us tonight, Kuroo-kun?” Akaashi’s mother said as she walked behind her son, taking a step into the kitchen but stopping when she heard the younger one’s hoarse voice rise up instead of Kuroo’s.
“No, he won’t stay.”
An uncomfortable silence hovered above the three of them for a few moments as Akaashi glared at Kuroo, teeth clenched tightly and a vein popping on his forehead despite his worn-out and exhausted expression.
“Come on, Keiji.” His mother said softly, trying to alleviate the tension in the small corridor. “Don’t be so rough, let him decide.” There was a hint of concern in her voice, but she didn’t seem to be angry or even worried about her son’s state.
Hasn’t she noticed…? Kuroo thought, slightly panicked.
“I need to go back in a while. Kenma needs me to help him with his homework, but thank you for your invitation, Akaashi-sama.” Kuroo spoke, eyes locked to Akaashi’s burning gaze.
“Aw, that’s alright then.” Akaashi’s mother spoke, then disappeared into the kitchen. “You should come and eat with us one of these days, though!” Kuroo heard her say from the other room.
“I promise I will.” He spoke in reply, raising his voice a little so that she could hear him.
Once he was sure his mother was busy with her own things, Akaashi closed the distance between them. The slightly smaller guy glared up at him; Kuroo’s heart seemed as if it would jump out of his chest, as panicked and scared as he was, and he gulped down and clenched his fists tightly.
“What are you doing here.” Akaashi whispered, anger dripping from his every word.
“I’m – ” Kuroo began, his breath catching momentarily in his throat as his heart threatened to come up his windpipe. “I’m worried about you.” He let out in a single breath.
Akaashi mantained his gaze for a moment, then he looked up at the ceiling, his lower lip trembling and shivering breaths slipping out. Kuroo’s insides twisted painfully when Akaashi looked at him once more, glimmering tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.
***
Akaashi’s room was small and dark, the curtains were pulled completely over the windows and prevented any light to come in, his futon was unmade and there were clothes, books and various other things scattered over the floor.
This isn’t right. Kuroo thought, hurt traversing his chest.
He and Akaashi were sitting down onto the soft mattress, their backs pressed against the wall. Akaashi’s head was pressed between his knees, arms wrapped tightly around his legs. Kuroo could hear him breathing, and he didn’t dare breaking the silence which was wrapped around them like a blanket – but it was a torn one, one that let the cold currents of air slip into it.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Akaashi spoke after a while, his voice muffled yet Kuroo could hear the break in it.
He turned his face to look at Akaashi’s form beside him, and found the other one shaking violently, strangled sobs escaping from between his knees.
“Hey, shh…” Kuroo tried speaking soothingly, but his voice came out almost as broken as Akaashi’s.
This time, he didn’t stop his hand from reaching up and rubbing Akaashi’s sleeve-covered forearm still draped around his knees.
“I don’t – ” Akaashi struggled, his constricted throat catching the words before they could make their way past his trembling lips. “I don’t understand myself. I don’t understand what’s – ” Akaashi stopped, gasped and tried inhaling. “ – what’s happening to me.”
“Maybe you don’t need to understand.” Kuroo murmured.
The words had come to him almost naturally, to his own surprise. If Akaashi couldn’t understand, then Kuroo was even farther away from it, but he knew he had to do something – anything – to help him.
Kuroo trailed his hand up Akaashi’s arm to rub away the tension in his shoulder, and then he ran his fingers into the younger one’s soft dark hair, slowly, gently massaging the scalp.
Akaashi wept. Kuroo waited, biting his lip as he didn’t know what else to do except for stroking Akaashi’s hair.
Kuroo tried to ease down the lump in his throat by swallowing.
Suddenly moving beside him, Akaashi reached his arms around Kuroo’s neck and threw one leg over Kuroo’s extended ones. Akaashi sat over Kuroo’s lap, his head buried into the other’s neck, warm tears dampening the collar of Kuroo’s uniform.
Left agape and unable to react for a moment, Kuroo soon returned to his senses and wrapped his arms around Akaashi’s shivering form. He breathed into the other’s hair, and his hands made slow circular motions over Akaashi’s heaving back.
“Kuroo – hh – ” Akaashi sobbed, voice muffled by Kuroo’s jacket.
Kuroo’s eyes stung and he blinked rapidly while looking up; he let out a shivering exhale. Kuroo pressed his lips to Akaashi’s skull, unsure if that was something he should do – or was even allowed to do.
Akaashi’s grip around him tightened softly, and Kuroo breathed out in relief.
“Cry… Cry…” Kuroo whispered gently into Akaashi’s ear.
“I don’t want – to cry!” Akaashi growled through gritted teeth, pain and frustration and sadness entangled in his voice. “I feel s – stupid because I don’t know why I’m crying! I don’t know why I keep slicing my own skin! I don’t know why I can’t sleep at night!”
Akaashi breathed hard into his neck, exhaustion washing over him.
“You’ll figure it out eventually.” Kuroo murmured. “Or maybe not, but that’s okay.”
“I feel – I feel so broken ins – inside.” Akaashi’s shoulders shook, and Kuroo moved his hands up from the small of Akaashi’s back to grip them. “I need – hold me – stay with me, please.”
Kuroo hummed softly and nodded - even though the other couldn't see him - in reply, then took out his phone from his pocket.
To: Kenma.
From: Me.
Your paper isn’t due until next week, right? We’ll work on it tomorrow. Don’t be mad at me.
“I’ll stay with you, Akaashi. Always.” Kuroo murmured into the younger one’s hair, arms tightening around Akaashi’s shivering form and pulling him even closer to his chest.
Because I know that the scars in your heart will take much longer to heal than the ones on your wrists.