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Kenma felt his own body stiffen. The words stirred emotions in him, ones that clashed and muddled together, leaving an anxious impression on the boy. Kenma didn’t express this though, instead donning on a mask of indifference, as if the question never left an echo in the room. But it was clear to anyone who knew him well enough that he was, in fact, uneasy by the way his thumbs pressed on the buttons of his consoles with a pace quicker than normal.
Body curled into a ball and huddled into a corner, Kenma pressed himself further into the wall when he felt the mattress dip from the weight of the other. The closer the other person got, the more Kenma focused on his game. Or rather, fake his concentration.
“Kenma.” The voice called out. He didn’t even look.
“Kenma.” He didn’t answer.
There was a hand on his shoulder, a cold flesh on his warm skin. It made him turn away slightly and recoil further.
“Kenma, please. Just—please look at me.” Kenma could hear the desperation in the other boy’s voice. It was the driving force that led him to look.
Apprehension etched itself on the older male’s features. Kenma could see the tension on the other’s shoulder as well the irrepressible slight tremors of his hands. There was tightness around the eyes, eyes that now emanated a glassy look and that in itself spoke volumes to Kenma.
Kuroo is worried.
"Do you still love me?"
The dreaded question was asked once more. And honestly, Kenma didn’t know what to say. For some time now, he asked himself the same question as well.
The seed of doubt first planted itself in the younger boy when he heard… noises that time he went to visit Kuroo. It’s been awhile for the two since they last hung out and, for once, decided to go to Kuroo’s house instead to spend, only to be greeted by this .
Soft giggles and muffled voices passed between the miniscule gaps of Kuroo’s bedroom door. He could barely make out the words, but what few of them he caught on were words that chilled his blood; they were words that Kuroo whispered in his ears, one that were only meant for him.
Of course it shocked him and this is what had Kenma glued and paralyzed on the spot. Only the ache that blossomed in his chest was what made him leave. Unshed tears were kept back, due to gaming the night away—a form of distraction from what passed earlier.
Still, try as he might, the twinge in his chest didn’t leave until Kuroo took him out to an arcade date a week later. Kenma buried the memory from the past week as if it didn’t even occur, opting to enjoy his time with Kuroo instead.
But the seed was already planted and slowly it grew.
And it grew every time Kenma would chance upon Kuroo’s moments with the other individual; such moments were never sparse as well. He didn’t know if the older boy was doing it on purpose (maybe to clue on that he wanted to end things with Kenma) or Kenma himself must be Lady Luck’s plaything with half of the time he stumbles on them (thought he made sure they wouldn’t see him). In the end, it was apparently not either of the two because first of all, Kuroo was subtle; the fact that nobody brought up the subject or at least side-eyed the third year confirms this. Kenma was just unlucky.
And second, the only exception to the first realization would be his other upperclassman, Yaku Morisuke, who was pretty much livid and didn’t waste a moment to drag the setter to a secluded corner in order to retail the events of what he witnessed—Kuroo playing footsie with another student down at the café on a Sunday morning.
Kenma, at that time, listened on with an apathetic expression embed on his features—taking it all in a stride as Yaku ranted on, occasionally just letting out incomprehensible sounds and kicking the wall in frustration. If the situation wasn’t so serious, he’d find his upperclassman’s antics amusing. But Kenma couldn’t see it that way, especially when the constricting feeling in chest was back again.
The setter managed to calm Yaku down, asking him to keep this discovery himself. He tried to not to fidget under the calculating gaze of the libero. Kenma could only be grateful that his upperclassman just nodded and changed subjects.
It was too much for him to talk about and as much as he wanted to do something about it, he didn’t because he didn’t know what to do at all. His past experience (mostly with bullies and other people) taught him to leave it alone till it goes away; meddling too much would only cause drama and unwanted attention—something he experienced as well and didn’t want a re-experience of. Hence, he kept away, hoping to higher forces that it would solve itself or at least Kuroo would control his libido or eradicate whatever the heck is driving his compulsion to involve himself with another person when he’s already in a relationship.
The ‘issue’, as Kenma dubbed it, was left on its own for a while and, to his relief, it did solve itself eventually. He knew that whatever was going on between them stopped when intimate moments between Kuroo and the other were becoming infrequent (he was running into them less and less), to the point that it became nonexistent.
The reservation he had were nipped at the buds when it was evident that Kuroo had stopped seeing the other party. And with it came more spent with Kenma increased, something that made said boy happy though he wouldn’t admit it out loud. The memories of Kuroo’s infidelity dwindled till most of them were nothing but a ghost of a memory.
Kenma was happy. He didn’t think more on what happened before. There was no reason to anymore.
Content.
It was the word Kenma would use, if ever one asked him about the way he felt about his and Kuroo’s relationship. As long as the older boy was there, Kenma was satisfied and happy. And it was a word that stuck with him for a time.
But only for a measured time.
The adjectively itself was subjected to a change; one that Kenma was familiar with.
Uncertainty.
And this abrupt change has been paved by the single fact that Kuroo Tetsurou has someone else in his arms once more.
Déjà vu is the only thing that came into Kenma’s mind the moment he stood before Kuroo’s bedroom door. The only thing that differed from the first time he caught him was the pants and pleasured scream that came from within. It was like a punch to the gut and a slap to the face. Kenma couldn’t will himself to move due to the shock. But eventually, he did.
Again, the heartache was what caused him to move from his position, quickly absconding from the place. He held himself together well enough until he reached home, until he reached his room and until he slid beneath the covers of his bed; only then did he allow himself to shed those tears he kept back for such a long time.
For once, Kozume Kenma was plagued with questions he didn’t have answers too.
Why did he even bother starting a relationship if he’d be fucking around with other people too?
Why was Kuroo doing this?
Did he hate him?
Wasn’t he enough for him?
Did he do something wrong?
The more Kenma entertained these thoughts, the harder he cried and the tighter his chest felt. So much so, his emotional exhaustion was the sole reason that put him into slumber. The morning after and the following days were no better.
In the coming days, while he easily maintained his usual persona, everyone could tell there something unusual about Kenma. While the blonde still played his games and interacted with a few of his peers, they all felt a certain distance from him; the coaches and the member of the volleyball club noticed this, most especially the club captain.
Kuroo was still by his side—often walking with him to school in the morning and walking home after practice has ended, each time giving Kenma a peck on the cheek or lips, now declining in number as the blonde elected to nod his head in greeting instead . As with the weekend dates where it was fewer, even when Kuroo would suggest a nice place that Kenma would definitely enjoy or promises to pay for his new games, the younger male declined, preferring the comforts of his own room more.
The growing rift between the two is what led to his current predicament.
Kenma knew that, sooner or later, Kuroo would confront him.
And he did.
Yet, even though he was aware of the high possibility at hand, prepping himself for the moment, Kenma still felt sucker punched.
Do you still love me?
It was a split second doubt on his part but the answer was just a step behind.
A sigh escaped his lips. He took that moment to pause his game, placing his console on the end table beside his bed.
“Ken—“
The blonde was quick to envelope the black haired boy in a tight embrace, head buried in the crook of Kuroo’s shoulder.
“Kenma?”
“Of course I do, you idiot.” It came out as a whisper but he knew Kuroo heard. He felt a pair of arms snake around his waist, pulling their bodies closers.
“You keep pushing me away. I thought... You know…” The rest were but mumbled words. Kenma let out another sigh.
“Look, Kuroo, I was just going through some stuff. Some space was the best remedy for my problem, okay? I’m sorry if I pushed you away and gave you the wrong impression. “
“S’okay. Just, you know you can tell me right? You don’t have to shoulder whatever problems you have alone.”
He doubted he could.
“I-I’ll try. And Kuroo?”
“Hmm?” Kenma took this moment to peer up at Kuroo.
“Don’t ever doubt that I love you. Because I do. Okay?”
And this was something absolute.
Kozume Kenma loves Kuroo Tetsurou. He has adored everything about this boy even back then, at the present and definitely in the future—so long as he lives and breathes. Even with Kuroo’s faults and the slight against him, Kenma knew the affection he felt for him was irrevocable and there isn’t anything in existence that would change how he felt for Kuroo.
Nothing at all.
Not even the poisoned flower that bloomed from the seed of doubt.
Not even the voices that bellowed inside his head: questions regarding the sincerity of Kuroo’s love or if he even loves Kenma at all.
Not even that.