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Kenma doesn’t believe in ghosts. Kuroo has always been the one who does. Always screeching during horror movies and games. Sleeping with all the lights on afterwards. Scared of his own shadow.
He’s the complete opposite of Kenma, who finds horror stories and games to be overly corny. They’re too focused on trying to scare people that they can’t. Or that’s what he believes.
But then you came.
There’s a difference between believing in ghosts and knowing one. He forgets most of the time, because you’re solid. You can press your side against his and let him know you’re there. The breeze moves your hair when it brushes past you two. Your voice is clear next to him, as if you’re truly in the room with him.
It’s easier to believe you’re not dead than to acknowledge you are.
Right now, you stare at him from the living room. It’s destroyed with the couch flipped over and volleyball magazines Hinata leaves all over the room. There’s broken glass from a glass being thrown against the wall.
Your chest is heaving, as if you’re struggling to breathe. He doesn’t even know what you’re angry about. He doesn’t remember what happened, but he figures he’s truly in the wrong.
He’s torn between apologizing and leaving. What is he meant to do? There’s no rule book for dealing with ghosts. There’s no rule book for you.
It’s quiet for a long moment before he leaves. The front door slamming shut by accident.
“What’s going on with you?” Kuroo asks when they’ve settled into his apartment. He’s usually where Kenma goes when something happens with you. He doesn’t know about you, though. Kenma hasn’t been able to tell anyone. He doesn’t want to be seen as crazy. “You never just stop by.”
“Just needed to get out,” Kenma says, even though he regrets leaving. “I’ve not been sleeping.”
Kuroo immediately gets worried, like he always does. Similar to a mother hen, but one that kicks her kids when given the chance.
“Maybe you should talk to your doctor,” Kuroo says, and it’s a good suggestion. “He could prescribe you something.”
Kenma shakes his head. “You know how I feel about medication.”
It turns him into a zombie, unable to fully function after waking up. He can’t do it again.
Kuroo looks at him, unsure, but he finally nods. “Okay, but if it gets worse, just think about it?”
Kenma nods. “Okay,” he says, even though he won’t.
You’re in his living room when he gets home. His house is clean. Anime plays on the television, but you’re not really watching it. You’re just staring at it with vacant eyes. It’s a common occurrence of you not always being here in the moment.
“Hey,” he says, and you look over at him. Your eyes are still slightly vacant.
“I’m sorry,” you say, and he nods.
“Can you let me sleep tonight?” he asks, and you slowly nod.
“I have to leave soon,” you say, and your voice is distant. “I may not be back for a while.”
“Where are you going?” Kenma asks, panic surges through him. You’ve never left before. You’re the most consistent person in his life.
You look away from him. “I don’t know. Just somewhere.”
Kenma doesn’t understand. He’s never understood your existence when he remembers you’re a ghost. He doesn’t know why you’re here, and you never tell him either. It makes less sense why you have to leave.
“Why?”
You look back at him, but it still doesn’t feel like you’re there with him. He hates it. He misses your heaving frame and angry expression. At least you’d been there in the moment.
“I don’t know,” you say, honestly. “I just feel this pull, and I can’t say no.”
It’s quiet as Kenma takes that in. You’re a ghost. A pull can mean anything. It can mean you leaving for good.
“Are you coming back?”
You’re no longer as solid as you once were. Fading. You’re fading. He’s scared, but he doesn’t know how to say that. It’s stuck in his throat, along with his fear.
“Hopefully,” you say, and then you’re gone. Anime still plays on the television and the house is still clean, but you’re no longer on the couch. You’re just completely gone.
He slowly walks over to the couch and touches the cushion you sat on. It’s cold to the touch, as if you were never there—as if he’d completely imagined you.
Kenma sits down, right where you always did, and tries to remember how it felt when you pressed your sides together. He can’t, though. It’d been so fleeting. You’d never truly been solid, but he always told himself you were.
The days blur together, especially when Kenma sleeps less. He worries you’ll come back when he’s asleep and leave. He’s nauseous all the time and unable to sleep. His eyes are so heavy that sometimes they stay closed for just a little too long. It gets to the point that Kuroo tries to intervene. Kuroo tries to get him to get help, but Kenma can’t. He’ll be seen as crazy.
He’s forgetting what you look like. There aren’t any photos of you for him to look at. There aren’t any voice recordings for him to remember your voice. It’s torturous.
It’s nearing six in the morning when there’s a knock at his door. It startles him, and his eyes have been closed for just a little too long. He hurries to get up, even though he doesn’t know why someone would be out there.
The door is heavy as he opens it, and it’s you standing outside of it. He freezes. You’re solid in front of him. Outside of his house, which you’d been trapped in for so long. You’re not fading. You’re vibrant.
“Y/N?” he says, but it comes out more as a question.
“Kenma,” you say, and your voice is smooth and loud. “I came back.”
Then you’re running at him and wrapping your arms around him. You’re so warm and comforting, and he sags into you. His eyes burn, and he fears he’s going to cry, but he can’t help it. You’re back and you’re real.
“Am I dreaming?” he asks, and you shake your head. Your hair brushes against his skin.
He loves you. He misses you. He needs you.
“You came back,” he says, and he lets himself completely melt into you. You hold him up as he cries. Your fingers brush through his hair, and he could sleep just like this. “I’m so tired.”
You pull away slightly, and he tries to hold on to you tighter, but he’s too weak from exhaustion.
“Come on, let’s get you inside,” you say before holding his face so gently. “I’ll let you sleep for as long as you need to.”
Kenma smiles as he lets out a gentle laugh. “Thank you.”