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Kuroo was hollow.
He may have looked normal enough, smiled, played, seemed normal enough. But really? He was empty. He was a shell, pretending to care about things, pretending to be alive; while in reality, he basically never had been.
The only time this was somewhat alleviated was when he was around Kenma. He cared about Kenma. He didn't exactly care about anything else. Maybe he'd learned it from his family: his mother didn't exactly care about anything and his father only cared about his sales rep company. They didn't care about Kuroo. At least not deeply, so perhaps he'd picked up his apathy from them.
Kuroo deeply cared about Kenma though, more than anything else. He didn't know what he'd be without him, how much more empty he would feel. But it wasn't enough.
It hadn't always been like this. There was a time when Kuroo enjoyed things, when he believed the world was great and vast, but that ended pretty quickly. His fantasy came crashing down with the pressure of school, with the reality things really were pointless. Sure Kuroo had a multitude of friends, he had hobbies like volleyball, he made jokes that people laughed at. He had Kenma, who made him feel less hollow. Honestly though? None of that made him feel alive.
At the young age of ten Kuroo knew what it was like to feel nothing. He figured it was normal. Taken the emptiness as reality. He had apathetically accepted his fate.
All that was about to change.
§
Daishou took the brunt of his mother's fist with acceptance. Earlier in his life he might've gotten angry, or scared, but now he just stared straight ahead at the wall and imagined it crumbling. He barely even flinched anymore. Instead, he closed his eyes, and let himself break.
By the third blow he was crying, though only out of physical pain rather than emotional. He was untouchable now, he didn't care when his mother struck him, it caused him no emotional distress.
"Pathetic," his mother snarled, tongue dripping with hatred.
This, this, is what made Daishou really cry. Not because he cared what his mother thought anymore, but because he felt it was true.
She grabbed him by his collar and jerked him to his feet, "Don't fucking disrespect me again. I am in authority you hear. I have done everything for you and I deserve everything in return. You understand?" Her voice was a violent whisper.
Daishou couldn't even remember what he'd done, he nodded anyways.
"Good," his mother snapped, shoving him back to the perfectly polished floor and striding away.
Daishou took a deep breath, picked himself up, dusted himself off, and went outside. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he needed to get away. He needed to see people to remind himself it wasn't just him and his mother in this world. Daishou took out his iPod, put his music on shuffle, and started to walk. He stared at the crystal winter sky - it seemed lonely. He liked that.
Daishou didn't have any friends. He knew this, but it didn't make him any less sad about the fact. Daishou didn't trust people enough to let them into his life. Personal connections were hard when you were constantly afraid that people would hurt you.
He was lost in lonely thought while he stared at the sky, wishing he could escape via flight.
Suddenly he tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, and hit the ground with a loud thud. He had brushed one of his bruises in the fall and sharply inhaled.
Oh god... if I broke the iPod she'll kill me, he quickly pulled it out of his coat pocket and almost let out a cry of relief when he saw it was completely fine.
"Hey, are you okay?" An unfamiliar voice called out. It came from across the street, but then the pair of people walked over to help.
Daishou's gaze shot to the ground, unwilling to meet the stranger’s eyes, "Yeah I'm fine, thanks," he glanced up at the owner of the voice and was greeted by a grinning face and tangled hair.
"I'm Kuroo Tetsurou, and this is Kenma," he said gesturing to his friend, who was immersed in his PSP. Then Kuroo said the worst thing imaginable. "Hey, do you wanna play volleyball with me? Kenma won't because he just got a new game. Plus, I really need to practice if I wanna be on a team eventually; if you don’t know how I can teach you! Please?” Kuroo wore a questioning yet hopeful look on his face.
Daishou felt the no, sorry, can't rise on his lips as well as the excuse that would follow it. But then he remembered the incident that had just transpired with his mother, and didn’t exactly want to be in his house at the moment. So he did the unthinkable.
"Sure," he instantly wanted to take it back but the grin that broke out on Kuroo's face made him stand by his decision.
Unknowingly, unwillingly, his life started to change.
§
They had been playing volleyball every day for a few weeks straight when Kuroo decided to invite Daishou over to his house.
He was intrigued by Daishou, which was strange, because he didn't really get "intrigued" by anything. But Daishou was strange, he was interesting. He always had his guard up, but when he let it down Kuroo was absolutely enchanted.
One day they'd been arguing about whether or not the volleyball had been out of bounds. It was silly honestly, and normally Kuroo wouldn't have cared. But Daishou cared so Kuroo cared as well.
"That was totally in," Daishou scoffed.
"Yeah if you're blind," Kuroo replied.
"It was in."
"You're just afraid to lose."
"It was in!"
"I'm telling you, it wasn't!"
They both narrowed their eyes at each other simultaneously. They held eye contact for a few seconds, then both started laughing. Kuroo didn't know why he was laughing but Daishou was too, so it didn't matter to him.
"It was in," Daishou said after he'd stopped laughing.
"Liar."
"Idiot."
"Bastard."
"Asshole."
They dissolved into laughter once more.
Afterwards, Kenma kept giving him weird looks.
A few days after that Kuroo invited Daishou to his house to spend the night.
"Kenma's coming over too and we're probably just gonna play video games and stuff."
"Uh..."
"If you can't it's fine but it's gonna be fun," Kuroo interrupted as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.
"I... uh, I think it will be okay," Daishou replied.
Kuroo grinned, and walked the rest of the way home feeling happy.
Daishou called later to say that he could come over. Something about his voice unnerved Kuroo, it seemed so hopeless and dejected. Kuroo winced at the sound of it.
Kuroo and Kenma were playing video games in his room when his mother came in and told them Daishou was here. Kuroo jumped up eagerly and rushed to greet him. Kenma gave him another weird look.
"Hey," Kuroo said excitedly, "You excited to spend the night?"
"Yeah," Daishou replied, his tone seemed flat.
"You okay?" Kuroo asked.
"Yeah, I guess. I just don't like being at home," the statement fell like a sad heavy truth. Daishou seemed pained. Kuroo didn't like that.
"Well then, you'll just have to spend more time here," Kuroo replied, elbowing Daishou playfully.
Daishou grinned and just like that the day was good.
Kenma smiled at Daishou when he entered the room and handed him a controller. They played video games for a while, then Kuroo insisted on making brownies, which he forgot to add the eggs into so they were ruined. They went to the park and played volleyball, dusk making the trees glow, Kenma alternating teams. They laughed when they fell over and argued about points.
Eventually it got too dark and they got too tired so they went home, laughing all the way.
They then stayed up too late laughing and talking and eventually fell asleep out of pure exhaustion.
It was a good day.
§
Daishou started hanging out more and more frequently with Kuroo and Kenma. The loneliness that resided in his soul slowly easing.
Kuroo seemed to know that something wrong resided in the Daishou household. Ever since Daishou told him he didn't like being at home, he came over early in the mornings to get Daishou and found things for them to do throughout the day. Daishou spent less and less time in his house and was grateful for the fact.
After a few days, Kenma invited him over to his house with Kuroo.
"Can I go?"
"I still can't believe you have friends, and I've seen them," she laughed. Daishou couldn't help but flinch at her words.
His mother narrowed her eyes, "Relax I'm joking. Don't be disrespectful. Go have fun."
Daishou muttered a quick thank you and rushed out the door.
The winter air was slowly turning into spring, the sky threatened to rain, Daishou inhaled the cold, fresh air and felt momentary peace. It was later in the evening so white gold light filtered through the clouds as the sun set. Daishou could see a strip of stars in the sky; he reached out to touch them. He felt a sudden pang of sadness at their distance. Daishou sighed and walked the rest of the way to Kenma's house.
The house was conveniently a block away from his own, so it didn't take him long to walk there. He trudged up the steps and hesitantly rung the doorbell, quietly bracing himself for Kenma's parents.
Kuroo's parents had been nice... cold, but nice. Surely that was a rarity.
When the door opened Daishou was greeted by a warm grin.
"You must be Daishou! Kenma's told me all about you. Well mostly Kuroo's told me about you, but Kenma too," the woman who spoke had a soft welcoming voice, and gleaming eyes crinkled with laugh lines.
"Hello Kozume-san," Daishou said nervously, blushing at how the her kind words.
"They're both out back playing volleyball. Do you want anything to eat? Drink?" She smiled at him.
Daishou hesitated, "Can I have some tea?"
"I have some on right now, I'll bring it to you when it's ready."
"Thank you," he said, searching for the door to the backyard.
When Daishou finally found it Kenma and Kuroo were practicing serves. Kenma refused to dive for the ball, as they were playing with a makeshift net on grass, but Kuroo stubbornly received it every time, even if it was going out of bounds. Daishou smiled to himself at this, though he wasn't quite sure why.
"Hey," he greeted. He smiled as they both parroted it back. Kuroo gave him a sloppy grin.
They played volleyball until their muscles ached, arms stung, and their chests hurt from laughing. But it was the good kind of pain, the pain that reminded you of something good. Not the pain that dragged you back to darkness. Daishou had had his fair share of the latter, but this type of pain he wanted to cherish forever. They went back inside and drank tea and told stupid jokes, and for some reason Daishou kept staring at Kuroo. He shrugged it off, it didn't matter; he was happy.
They were playing Mario Kart on Kenma's massive setup. It was in the living room so his mom kept walking past and cracking jokes, asking if they wanted anything. Later before they were about to go to bed, Daishou worked up the courage to say something.
"Your mom’s really nice..."
"Yeah," Kenma replied, mostly paying attention to his Pokemon game.
"I know right, she's the coolest," Kuroo said, grinning, but his face fell at the expression on Daishou's face.
"And she doesn't... um... hit you?"
Kenma paused his game.
"No."
With that one word Daishou crumbled. He felt the tears rolling down his face but he barely processed them.
Kuroo suddenly tackled him in a hug, "That's not okay," he whispered into Daishou's ear.
"I thought it was normal."
"Is there anything we can do," Kenma asked.
"No," he sobbed.
That didn't stop them from trying.
They came to get Daishou even earlier in the morning, made sure he went back to his house even later in the evening, and invited him over to spend the night at least twice a week. When he got a phone two years later all he had to text them was 'i need help' and they were miraculously at his house.
Kuroo and Kenma saved his life in small ways every day, and he was forever grateful.
§
Kuroo was fourteen years old when he kissed Daishou.
They were dizzy with laughter and life and sprawled out on Kuroo's bedroom floor. Kenma had elected to play video games alone instead (as he often did). Daishou had suggested they play would you rather.
"Um, okay, would you rather fuck Shrek or Barry the Bee?" Kuroo asked, already cracking up with laughter.
"The fuck you gonna do with a bee? Shrek hands down."
"Ugh, too green. You could vore the bee, though."
"Kuroo, what the fuck?"
Kuroo glanced at the horrified expression on Daishou's face and immediately started cackling.
Finally when he calmed down he turned his head to look at Daishou. To look at his stupid, perfect face that had that perpetual, sly smirk that hid so much pain.
And Daishou stared back at him.
Kuroo was tired and heavy with laughter and god, he liked Daishou a lot.
So he kissed him.
And Daishou kissed him back.
§
They were fourteen years old when it happened again.
§
And again.
It quickly became a frequent thing, as their last year of junior high faded into summer, it became a regular occurrence. They even kissed in front of Kenma just to shock him, but he was unfazed, and said "you're disgusting" and "called it".
It became a summer of kisses, warmth, and laughter. It was the best summer of their lives. They were out in the warm air until 2 in the morning, laughing and joking while Kenma made sarcastic comments.
As Daishou got older his mother's wrath got better and more manageable, and Daishou had something he didn't have the first ten years of his life; friends.
Also a friend he frequently kissed.
Even as the bomb dropped that they would be going to different schools, it didn't faze them.
They were untouchable.
§
They were sixteen when it all went to shit.
§
"I need you," he texted to Kuroo as his mother’s screams filled the air around him. The sound of glass shattering against the locked door Daishou was hiding behind filled his ears and veins. A fear he hadn't known in years gripped him.
"A FUCKING QUEER? IN MY OWN FUCKING HOUSE. YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT," something thudded against the door, likely his mother’s foot. Daishou felt the tears being ripped out of him.
He glanced down at his phone. I need you, he thought desperately.
But no one came.
§
Kuroo woke up with a sense of dread. He desperately tried to recount anything he might've forgotten, what had happened yesterday. Once he had somewhat eased his anxiety he grabbed his phone to text Daishou. I need you, glared up at him from his phone screen.
Shitfuckfuckfuckshit, was Kuroo's only thought as he jolted out of bed, threw some clothes on, and ran to Daishou's house as fast as he could.
Kuroo knocked urgently on Daishou's door, fearing his mother might open the door. But what was on the other side of the door was worse.
Daishou had a split lip and his eyes were red from crying.
"You're late," he snarled.
"DaishouDaishouDaishou, I'm so sorry I was out with Kenma all day, pleaseforgivemeIfellasleep."
There were a few moments of silence
"It's okay," Daishou said, smirking despite the cut on his lip.
Kuroo didn't see Daishou again after that day.
§
It had been two years since Daishou had last seen Kuroo and Kenma. He had graduated high school, found a place to live, gotten a full ride to a college, and was living with a friend.
He had told his mother she would never see him again and that he hoped she got arrested for tormenting him for eighteen years.
Sometimes, you have to let people be dead to you.
It had been two years since Daishou had last saw Kuroo and Kenma, and he missed them every fucking day.
They weren't dead to him yet.
(They never would be.)
It had been two years when he got the text.
§
Kuroo had been waiting on the swings for over an hour when Daishou showed up at one in the morning.
The stars sat in the sky, each in their perfect place as though they were meant to be there. Kuroo tried to believe that life worked like that, but in reality, there were a lot less stars and a lot more darkness. No one knew their place and everyone scrambled around, desperately trying to find a slot to fit into.
When Kuroo saw Daishou he felt his childhood self feel the urge to reach out and touch him, just to make sure he was real. But things were too complicated to do that know. So he settled for a simple greeting.
“Hey,” Kuroo said softly.
“Hey.”
The only noise was the creaking of the swings as Daishou sat down.
“How’s life?” Kuroo asked timidly.
“Not like you care,” Daishou snapped back at him.
Kuroo inhaled the cold night air as he thought, I deserved that. He glanced over at Daishou, who was staring at the stars like he had when they were kids. The same expression on his face. The look like he wanted to escape. They sat in silence for a few minutes, gently rocking back and forth on the swing as they looked up into the vast universe.
Kuroo took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he was about to say and how Daishou might react, tears already swelling in his eyes. "Listen, Daishou, I know you hate me even though I don't exactly know why. But I really fucking miss you," tears streamed down his face as his shoulders began to shake, his voice breaking as it all poured out of him, "Man, I liked you so much and then... we just never talked to each other again. And I just fucking miss being around you, and-"
"Shut up and swing, asshole," Daishou whispered as he started pumping his legs, staring at the sky.
Kuroo felt something he had barely felt since leaving Daishou: alive. It was small and fleeting, but he felt it.
The emptiness that always haunted him had returned when he and Daishou stopped talking, But every time he thought about him he felt that familiar feeling of tasting stars.
Kuroo and Daishou had too much pain when they were younger to love each other. But maybe now they could get it right.
Kuroo started swinging in sync with Daishou. If he let his vision tunnel it looked like he was flying into the stars, only to have them slip away as he descended. He looked over at Daishou and Daishou was looking at him, they started laughing and then locked eyes and nodded.
They let go.
Let go of the misery of their childhoods, the pain of love, their fears, their hopes. They just let go.
They landed in a heap next to each other and kept laughing. Kuroo reached out and took Daishou's hand in the dark, faces barely illuminated by the lights of the neighborhood.
Kuroo leaned over and kissed him. It felt like the past come back to haunt. It tasted like a tragedy and looked like dream. It was passionate. It was painful.
Daishou pulled away and Kuroo tried to lean back in but it wasn't that simple.
"Kuroo, I'm moving, I'm getting as far away from this neighborhood as possible," he confessed.
"You're running."
"Yeah, I have a lot to run from."
"Someday we'll get this right," Kuroo said suddenly.
"Yeah, someday."
Kuroo kissed him again.
And again.
§
Daishou's new apartment was filthy. That was probably why it was only 20,000 yen a month. Before he even moved in he started to clean it. He scrubbed the counters, swept the rat shit and dust off the floors. Scraped grime from the walls. He cleaned that place until every corner shined.
It would never really be clean, though. It would never be clean of his mother’s fists or her venomous words, never be clean of what actually happened, and what could've happened. Always tainted with abuse.
The sins of the past were etched into the very walls of his new home.
Daishou would always live with the past, burdened by its immense weight even after he had let go.
All he could do now was look forward to "someday."
end.