Chapter Text
“I’ll help you,” Kuroo sighed. “On one condition.”
The scant bit of confidence you’d worked up was starting to crumble. You clenched your fists, steeling yourself. At this point, you’re willing to do just about anything.
“Manage the volleyball team for a while.”
Your face fell. “What, really?”
“Mhm,” Kuroo nodded, still slouched over his desk.
“You’re kidding, right?”
He shook his head. “Nuh-uh.”
This wasn’t quite how you’d expected the situation to go. And quite frankly, you were just upset that you were even in this situation in the first place. But, who wouldn’t be?
Begging Kuroo Tetsurou to help you with chemistry wasn’t a situation you’d envisioned yourself ending up in. But, something had to be done about those abysmal exam marks. Your grades in everything else were fine; good, even. Certainly high enough to earn you your spot in Class 5. But that chemistry grade was something to be concerned about. Your homeroom teacher had warned you as much on the very first day of the school year.
And for the handful of weeks since, you’d been driving yourself mad trying to think of a solution. Hard work had only gotten you so far, and none of your friends felt they were competent enough to tutor you. You needed help – desperately.
So there you stood, in front of the desk of a boy you’d never had a proper conversation with before, asking for his help – all while uncomfortably aware that this was cutting into his lunch break.
You hadn’t quite known what to expect from this interaction. You weren’t really friends, after all; you’d been vaguely aware of him over this past year and a bit, but knew little, if anything, about him. All you knew was that he was topping the grade when it came to chemistry, and therefore, turning to him in this time of need might help.
You hadn’t expected this ultimatum.
“Why?”
It was a genuine question.
“Hm?”
“Why ask me to be your manager?” You asked, tilting your head at him. “I know nothing about volleyball.”
“You’ll learn.”
You frowned. “This is the only way you’ll tutor me?”
“It’s not the only way,” Kuroo shrugged, raising an eyebrow at you. “But it’d certainly bump it up my priority list.”
The worst thing was that it didn’t even seem like he was trying to be a dick.
Right, you thought. Pros and cons.
Cons: being a manager would eat up a lot of your time. Presumably. Maybe. You didn’t have any real idea.
Also, it would mean spending a lot more time around sweaty boys. That sounded kind of gross.
And what time did practice finish? Walking home after sunset was always a little scary. Certainly scary enough to stoke a bit of anxiety.
More importantly, it sounded like responsibility. Maybe you were overestimating just what being a manager meant, but it sounded like there was plenty of stuff you could mess up.
Pros: it’d look really, really good on your college applications.
Just like a passing chemistry grade would. Which you weren’t going to get all on your own.
“It doesn’t have to be for long,” he offered, raising an eyebrow at you. “Just a couple of months. And I’ll be your resource to use as you please.”
You blinked at him, baffled at his choice of phrasing.
“How about you just drop by practice this afternoon?” He suggested, balancing his chin on his fist. “You can get a feel for it.”
You sighed.
“Alright.”
You were willing to do just about anything, after all.
✧ ✧ ✧
Teenage boys, no matter how polite or kind or accommodating, are always scary in packs.
That little revelation came to mind as you pressed yourself meekly against the wall of the gym, watching a gaggle of boys running back and forth, jumping and hitting and shouting. Part of you wanted to melt into the wall, hoping that none of these giants would pay you much attention.
You’re painfully aware of one of them staring at you; a first-year, judging by his use of honorifics. He’s tallish, but not enough to be scary, with close-cropped hair and grumpy eyebrows. There’s a certain intensity to him – he seemed like the sort of person with too much tenacity for his own good.
And yet, he seemed terrified of you. Was he the sort of boy who couldn’t talk to girls?
You smiled to yourself. Such dichotomy in one personality, huh?
There was another boy that caught your eye. A quiet one, with chin-length black hair who seemed to want to sink into the ground. He didn’t look like the sort of boy you’d expect to find on a high school sports team. He was a little shorter than everyone else – except for Yaku, who’d greeted you quite amiably when you’d first arrived.
But Yaku seemed like he wanted to be there. Like he enjoyed it. This kid? He looked like he just wanted to melt into the shadows. He always flinched whenever anyone called out to him. Hell, he seemed to flinch even when someone so much as looked at him. Was he okay? Should you ask if he’s okay? Should you point him out to Kuroo? But Kuroo had already spoken to him a few times…
Well, checking in with people’s well-being would be part of your job as a manager, right? It’d be your duty to make sure that the club members were doing okay.
But practice was still going. You’d have to put a pin in that thought.
The third years were frightening, as expected. But, you felt as though your upperclassmen would always be somewhat scary. The captain had traded a handful of words with you – hellos, nice to meet yous, a what are you even doing here – but he hadn’t made any particular point to help you out.
That job was left to the coach, who, thankfully, seemed quite kind. You had said very little to him, but you could tell that he loved his job just from the serene smile that graced his face as he watched his team go at it.
Practice was over before you knew it. The sun was setting outside the windows, the sky blushing orange. You bit your lip. Maybe you’d be able to get home before it got too dark…
You sighed, turning your gaze back to the gym floor. Maybe you should try talking to one of the boys… Yaku had always been friendly. Maybe he’d tolerate a conversation with you? Oh, what about Kai? He’d been very quiet, but he seemed nice… There was Kuroo, too…
You pressed your lips together, eyes scanning over the gaggle of boys in front of you as your mind ran through the pros and cons all at once.
You frowned. The third years were yapping at that quiet boy; whatever they were saying, it didn’t seem exactly friendly. You froze. Should you do something? Was this normal? Was it a problem? He looked terrified – not that he showed it outright, but it was in his eyes.
Kuroo was standing behind him, saying something to one of the third years. You couldn’t quite hear them, but Kuroo’s expression was… cold. Not confrontational, just unyielding. Whatever he’d said, the third years stalked away.
You watched closely as Kuroo’s expression softened as he looked at the shorter boy. He looked concerned. Were they friends?
“Oi, manager chick!”
You cringed. It’s one of the third years – not the captain, but someone you’d noted had quite the nasty serve.
“Help clean up!”
“Right!” You gave a quick half-bow, your head flicking around almost frantically as you looked for something to do.
You settled for collecting stray balls, rushing them back to the ball bins. All the while you watched the sky darken beyond the gym windows – and with it, your anxiety began to blossom.
By the time you were picking up your bag to go home, the sky was positively black. You bit your lip as you stared out the gym windows, your eyebrows a little furrowed.
“Hey.”
You looked up, a little startled. Kuroo, forehead slick with sweat and cheeks tinged red from exertion. You resisted the urge to scrunch up your nose. Being this close to a sweaty teenage boy wasn’t high on your priorities list.
“What’d you think?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck with a towel.
You shrugged. “Seems intense.”
“But you don’t hate it, right?” He smiled. It’s hopeful. Almost pitifully so.
You bit the inside of your cheek. In truth, you didn’t. There’s something quite fun about watching them play volleyball up close. They all got so into it. It was always nice, watching people care about something so deeply that enjoyment seeped through every part of their being.
“We’ll see,” you said. “Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow.”
He smiled brightly at that half-promise. Brightly enough that you knew you didn’t want to let him down.
This side of him was already a far cry from that trickster-like figure you’d negotiated with this morning.
“Hey, uh…” He cleared his throat, one hand finding its way to the back of his head. “I was wondering… did you need me to walk you home? I know it’s getting kind of late, so…”
You felt something that’s not quite elation, but certainly a bit more intense than relief. Tokyo’s a safe enough place, yes, but that fact’s never enough to quell the anxiety you’d always felt from walking home in the dark.
“If it’s not too much trouble.” You tried to make your smile look relaxed and natural, but you knew some hint of tension had made its way in there.
“Cool,” Kuroo said, giving you a little nod as his eyes scanned your face. He relaxed his shoulders a bit, slouching down a little. Was he… trying to make himself smaller? “But, uh… where do you live?”
By some miracle, it’s not all that far from his place. You caught the relief on his face, even if he made an effort to hide it. Would he really have walked you all the way to your house, even if it wasn’t in the same area?
He didn’t give you time to think about it, turning around and waving a hand in the air.
“Hey, Kenma!”
Your brows rose instinctively as the shy kid scurried over, head hunched down and hands stuffed into his pockets.
“This is Kenma,” Kuroo smiled, nodding at him. “He’s my next-door neighbour.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled, tilting your head at him.
“Yeah,” Kenma nodded in a quiet response, not quite able to meet your eyes. You didn’t press it. You offered him your name quickly, a bit like an afterthought, but Kenma gave you a little nod in recognition.
“You guys ready to go?” Kuroo looked between the both of you, tilting his head at the door.
You glanced over at Kenma. He didn’t glance back.
“Yeah,” you nodded, relieved that you wouldn’t have to walk the dark streets on your own.
✉
[YOU] 7:21 PM: hello! Is this kuroo?
[Kuroo] 7:34 PM: you got it
[YOU] 7:36 PM: thank goodness! I just wanted to say, thank you for walking me home today. I was a bit worried about it, but I didn’t want to impose
[Kuroo] 7:38 PM: not a problem. I’m more than happy to do it again tomorrow
[Kuroo] 7:38 PM: since you are coming to practice, right?
[YOU] 7:40 PM: Sure :)
✧ ✧ ✧
Kuroo Tetsurou hadn’t been what you’d expected.
For one thing, he’d actually made good on your deal. You’d half-expected him to bail on tutoring you – though you couldn’t exactly say why. But, you supposed it would be hard for him to dodge the ire of his club manager. Regardless, he dedicated most afternoons to helping you study.
You’d meet up in the library before practice and you’d always start with chemistry. He was actually kind of good at explaining the concepts to you in a way you understood, without all the bells and whistles. He had a way of simplifying the concepts to their bare bones. That’s not to say that it wasn’t difficult; you still felt like you’d been left far, far behind. But, Kuroo was something of a comfort.
Somehow, you’d end up working on other subjects. Apparently, Kuroo’s surprisingly bad at literature. He was doing well enough, but it was something he just couldn’t wrap his head around. Maybe you’d been a bit gung-ho about offering your help, but you were just glad you finally had something to offer in this arrangement. Even though you were still managing the volleyball team, overwhelming as that could be sometimes.
But, you’d made a deal, and the whole manager business was less scary than you’d first thought. And you felt that with time, you’d get the hang of it. Maybe.
More often than not, your study session before practice wasn’t enough time to cover all the content you needed. So, sometimes, you’d continue it after practice, holed up in the library until you got kicked out. Kenma usually stuck with you guys, sitting in the corner with whatever game console he’d brought that day.
And without fail, Kuroo walked you all the way to your house every night. And during those walks, you talked. Rather animatedly.
“What I’m saying is that the divide between the arts and the sciences is arbitrary,” Kuroo shrugged, raising an eyebrow. “When they work together, incredible things happen. Genuine art happens.” He cocked his head at you, that perceptive grin of his spread across his face. “You’d really disagree with me on that?”
“I didn’t say I disagree,” you grinned. “I’m just surprised that you’re not one of those sciencey people who thinks that the arts are worthless.”
He scoffed at that, shaking his head. “Excuse you. I’ve got more nuance than that.”
“Sorry for doubting you,” you giggled.
“You better be.”
The thing you’d been most surprised about, above everything else, was just how enjoyable it was to talk to him. How easy it was to get lost in a conversation that most of your other friends might get bored by. It’s not that your other friends treated you badly, but Kuroo had a way of naturally drawing out your thoughts, and he usually treated them with enough respect to engage with them. Of course, there were times when he loved to tease, and you’d learnt to not take it too personally.
Kuroo Tetsurou was far more interesting than you’d first given him credit for. And you felt kind of bad for that. You’d known he wasn’t just some dumb jock – he wasn’t topping chemistry for nothing – but you hadn’t expected him to be so… clever. So playful. So fun to talk to.
You were beginning to feel that maybe, just maybe, he was someone you could end up being quite close to.
✉
[YOU] 10:41 PM: hey, kuroo?
[Kuroo] 10:46 PM: what’s up?
[YOU] 10:47 PM: i was just wondering, why did you ask me to become manager?
[Kuroo] 10:48 PM: oh ahaha
[Kuroo] 10:48 PM: i thought having an extra pair of hands around would help the coach out a bit
[YOU] 10:48 PM: wait really
[YOU] 10:48 PM: that’s it?
[Kuroo] 10:50 PM: ??????
[YOU] 10:51 PM: you were so seedy about it!
[Kuroo] 10:51 PM: was i?
[YOU] 10:52 PM: i–
[Kuroo] 10:53 PM: :)
✧ ✧ ✧
“Kenma wants to quit.”
Your head shot up, turning to Kuroo with wide eyes. “What?”
“Yeah,” he sighed, one hand raking through his hair. “The third years have been giving him a really rough time.” He bit his lip, glancing at you. “You’ve seen it yourself.”
You swallowed. “I hoped I was just being too sensitive, but…”
Kuroo groaned, running a hand down his face. “They’re such assholes.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, unsure of what to say. The third years had almost made you want to quit in the early days. They were scary, sharp, unrelenting. But they’d left you alone pretty quickly once you’d settled into the thrum of your responsibilities.
Kenma hadn’t been so lucky.
“Is he okay?” You murmured, brows knitted together. “I mean, I know he’s getting picked on, but is he… is he… I don’t know…”
“I get it,” Kuroo sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know. He doesn’t really talk about that sort of stuff.”
You set your pen down on the dining table, shifting in your chair to face him directly.
Practice had been cancelled for the afternoon, and Kuroo had bustled you out of school before you even had a chance to ask why. You’d been surprised when he had asked if the two of you could study at your place that afternoon – and some part of you had dreaded what your parents might say about you bringing a boy home – but you’d conceded. He’d seemed stuck in his head; something not unusual for him, but he’d been just withdrawn enough to pique your concern.
This must’ve been why.
“I just don’t know what to do,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I don’t want to push him too hard or anything, but I don’t think he’s making the right choice.”
You bit your lip.
“Why?” You asked, feeling bold.
“Huh?”
“Tell me why you don’t want him to quit,” you said. “Other than the obvious.” You sat up a little straighter, grabbing your notebook and picking up your pen. “We can brainstorm together.”
“Other than the obvious?” He tilted his head at you.
“You know,” you shrugged. “I know you want him to stay around because he’s your best friend, but… there’s more to it, right?”
“Well…” Kuroo swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck as he leant back in his chair. “We’re not gonna get very far without him.”
You scribbled that down quickly. “Why’s that?”
“He’s a good strategist,” Kuroo said carefully, “And he’s great at running through all the potential outcomes on the spot. And nobody on the team’s as observant as he is.”
You bit the inside of your cheek as you transcribed. You weren’t narcissistic enough to think you knew Kenma better than Kuroo did. Nor did you want to presume you were closer to the second-year than you actually were. But you wanted to help.
“Why don’t you… explain that to him?” You asked, peering down at your notebook.
“What do you mean?”
“Like… just tell him the logical reasons you want him to stick around,” you shrugged. “I think he’d respond well to that.”
“I guess…” Kuroo pursed his lips, looking at you with a frown.
“What I’m trying to say is that… maybe putting it into terms that’ll resonate with him is the best way to go.” You weren’t quite sure if your point was getting across. You just had to hope that he understood.
“I get you,” he nodded, crossing his arms. “I dunno if it’ll work though.”
“He’ll listen to you,” you mused, propping your hand on your chin.
“Huh?”
“It’s obvious you mean a lot to him,” you shrugged. “Even if he doesn’t really use his words to express that.”
Kuroo blinked at you, a touch of pink to his cheeks.
“I mean, he’s stuck it out with volleyball this long, hasn’t he?” You smiled at him, watching his cheeks grow even pinker. “That’s because of you.”
He cleared his throat as he looked down at his lap. It was strange to see him so… speechless. He was the sort of person that always had a comeback. You were never able to get a one up on him. Sincerity, however, seemed to be his hamartia.
“I just… I wanna go as far as I can with this team,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “You know, me and the other second years… when we first joined the team, we were asked about our goals.”
He sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “We all said that we wanted to win nationals.”
He wasn’t quite sure why he was telling you all this. He didn’t know where it came from. But he knew he’s grateful to be able to just talk. To share this with someone.
“Yaku and I used to fight all the time,” he smiled sheepishly, casting his gaze at you.
“I can see that,” you giggled. There was always a little fire between the two of them; it’d given you a good laugh many times.
“It was kind of stupid, but… we got over it. We learned to work together,” Kuroo sighed.
“I feel bad for poor Kai,” you smiled.
Kuroo laughed. “Yeah…” He sighed as he leaned over the table, resting his chin on his folded arms. “Nekoma used to be hot shit, you know.”
“Did we?” You asked.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Made it to nationals a couple of times. But, we sort of… fell off. We haven’t been as good as we could be for a while. And… I want to change that.”
He pressed his lips together, his brows furrowing. “We can’t do that if we don’t work together. And I know that sounds obvious, but… we need to focus on our teamwork more. We’ll only be great if we all learn to rely on and trust each other. We’ve gotta make the best use of all our strengths while covering our weaknesses.”
You nodded, making a little noise of agreement. You couldn’t help but smile as you listened to him. This side of Kuroo – this genuine, honest one – was quickly becoming your favourite.
“Sorry,” he chuckled, sitting up straight. “Didn’t mean to ramble at you there.”
“No, no, it’s fine!” You shook your head. “Ramble all you’d like.”
He quirked an eyebrow at you for that, but he was smiling.
“Hey, Kuroo?” Normally, you wouldn’t have thought to ask the questions that were currently poking at the back of your mind. But he’d just been so honest, so open with you in a way he’d never been before. Maybe it was okay to be a little bit curious. Just this once.
“Hm?”
“I have a genuine question,” you said, folding your hands in your lap.
He looked at you, pouting a little.
“Why volleyball?”
He bit the inside of his cheek, brow creased ever so slightly. Usually, he’d just dodge a conversation like this; not because he was particularly embarrassed by it or anything like that, but because he didn’t want to talk about himself too much. He didn’t want to be rude and dominate the conversation.
But, you were asking. And, you seemed genuinely interested.
A little bit of sincerity wouldn’t hurt, right?
“My family moved here when I was pretty young,” he said, shrugging. “And I didn’t really… know how to make friends. Before I moved, I’d been part of a volleyball team. All my friends were on it, and… I had to move away from them.”
It was a little strange, trying to pull up all these memories. And trying to condense them was harder than he’d expected. “When I first met Kenma, we just played video games. I didn’t really… know how to talk to him. But he agreed to play volleyball with me, and that made things so much easier. I had something to talk about.”
You smiled to yourself, the image of a shy little Kuroo more endearing than it should be.
“I even convinced him to go to a weekend class with me,” he smiled, looking down. “You know, I even remember when I first met Coach Nekomata.”
“Huh?” You frowned.
“The old coach who used to work here. Rumour is he’ll come out of retirement sometime soon,” he smiled.
You nodded, even though you didn’t quite understand.
We bumped into him at one of those classes,” Kuroo said. “He told me, ‘do what you love, and success will come.’ I still think about that.”
Do what you love, and success will come. Yeah, that definitely sounded like something that’d resonate with Kuroo.
“Anyway, I joined the team in middle school, and that made it a lot easier to make friends,” Kuroo shrugged. “I don’t know. I love volleyball. Have for as long as I can remember. It’s fun. And… it helped me connect with people, even when… even when I couldn’t find the right words.”
He looked at you, a bit more tentative than usual. But, you were smiling, your chin propped up on one of your palms as you listened to him talk.
“Believe it or not, but I was a really shy kid.” He didn’t know why he’s still talking. And honestly, he’s a little embarrassed by it. But, you’re still listening. And for that, he’s grateful.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” you grinned.
His eyes widened a little. “Huh?”
“You think so much,” you mused, looking upwards. “But, like… in the way introverts do, you know?” You blushed, looking down at your hands. “Well, I mean… I tend to overthink everything I say, right?”
“No, really?” Kuroo gasped, covering his mouth with one hand.
“Shush,” you shot him a half-glare, suppressing the urge to stick your tongue out at him like a child. “It’s just that… I see a little bit of that in you, too. Not… massively, but it’s there.”
You couldn’t quite read his expression. It wasn’t one you’d seen before. And honestly, he wouldn’t know how to describe it himself. He was caught between the relief at being seen, at being understood, and the embarrassment of being called out. People didn’t tend to pick up on that part of him – and yet, you had.
He wasn’t used to being the one getting read.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I really didn’t mean to ramble so much.”
“Oi,” you giggled, “I said it’s fine, didn’t I?”
He raised an eyebrow at you.
“It’s nice that you care so much about the game.” You were smiling at him. Nothing unusual. But the look in your eyes was so genuine, so bright that he could feel his face burning up from looking at it.
“Yeah,” he smiled, breaking eye contact with you. God, he really didn’t know what to do in conversations like these. “Anyway, should we get back to chem?”
✉
[closet introvert] 9:22 PM: so
[YOU] 9:25 PM: so
[closet introvert] 9:25 PM: i think i’m gonna try to talk to kenma after school tomorrow
✧ ✧ ✧
If there was one thing you were fairly decent at as manager, it was looking after the first and second years. Bit by bit, you’d worked up an adequate rapport with each of them, and you had most of their personalities sorted out. Most importantly, you knew what to do when they were down.
You just had to let Yaku rant – let him shout and gripe and swear, and he’d be okay. Kai liked a constructive conversation, had in soft, measured tones, and offering a solution or two. Yamamoto wanted fire and conviction, a challenge to do better, to be better. Fukunaga liked a distraction, something to take his mind off of whatever was bothering him. Kenma liked to be left alone to sort things out for himself – but you were permitted to make him a care package or two.
You’d known Kuroo long enough by now to know that he was rather reticent when it came to his own feelings. He wasn’t the sort to talk about them upfront; you had to peer at the silences and the spaces between his words to find out what he really meant. You had to look at his behaviour; he was never too straightforward. That sort of thing seemed to overwhelm him.
That presented a bit of a problem. If he didn’t want to talk about his feelings, he simply wouldn’t. He’d deflect the conversation, or downplay how he was feeling. Sometimes he gave you bits and pieces, but he rarely spilled his true thoughts and feelings. They were exceedingly difficult to draw out of him – he had to offer them up himself. And most of the time, he bounced back pretty quickly from his more melancholic moods on his own.
But not today.
Kuroo wasn’t exactly loud. At least, not in the same way Yamamoto was – or that rambunctious wing spiker from Fukurodani. It was well within Kuroo’s abilities to be obnoxious, but he wasn’t loud. But even for him, he was being uncharacteristically quiet today.
Practice had gone fine, as far as you could tell. Nothing had gone obviously wrong, and nobody had gotten injured. From your perspective, things had even gone well. Admittedly, your knowledge of volleyball didn’t run particularly deep just yet, but you were trying your best.
Kuroo was usually so bright after practice, always grinning or cackling at something despite his exhaustion. Half the time he’d point things out to you, explaining certain moves they’d practised or formations they were trying out.
But today, he’d just picked up his bag dourly, waiting at the door for you and Kenma to leave. He’d said very little on the walk to the train station when usually he’d be rambling about something or other. You and Kenma exchanged a look; he was just as concerned as you were.
And just like you, he didn’t know how to breach the conversation.
“So… how do they even work?” You asked, blinking down at Kenma’s DS screen.
You couldn’t stand the silence for much longer. And you knew that a sure-fire way to get Kenma talking was by asking him about video games – especially optimization.
“EVs are gained by defeating specific Pokemon,” Kenma murmured. “If you defeat a Pokemon with naturally high HP like Chansey, you’ll gain EVs towards your own HP. However, you can only gain 252 EV’s towards any one stat.”
You nodded, opting to let him ramble. Usually, Kuroo would’ve led the conversation between the three of you. But, you’d valiantly taken that task up yourself today – and the easiest way to help things go smoothly was to get Kenma on a roll.
“You can gain a maximum of five-hundred and twelve total, so realistically you can only optimise two stats at a time,” he continued, eyes still glued to his screen. You took a moment to glance at Kuroo. He was staring out the window of the train, his expression worryingly forlorn. Was he even listening?
“IVs are a Pokemon’s innate capabilities.” Kenma was still going. You made an affirmative noise in the back of your throat, nodding. “A Pokemon with a high attack IV will have a naturally higher attack stat than a Pokemon with a low attack IV, even at the same level.”
On the one hand, it was nice to know that Kenma was comfortable enough with you to ramble like this. It was also nice to see Kenma talking freely; a rare and precious sight.
On the other hand, it just made you more stressed about Kuroo. He hadn’t breathed a word the entire ride. He hadn’t even taken a moment to gaze fondly at Kenma while he was rambling. And he always did that when Kenma was on a roll.
You managed to ask enough questions to fill the distance to Kenma’s house. He was speaking more than usual. That much was obvious, yes – but even for a Kenma that was geeking out, this was unusual.
And with the way his gaze kept flicking to Kuroo, you knew it was because he was truly, deeply concerned.
Kuroo still made somewhat of an effort to say goodbye to Kenma, despite his mood. The usual “make sure you don’t go to sleep too late, okay?” and “make sure you drink enough water, so you don’t get a headache.”
But before Kenma walked through his front door, he looked at you. And when you looked back, he held eye contact. Then he looked very pointedly at Kuroo, who was staring up at the sky. By the time you turned to look at Kenma again, he was already scurrying through his front door.
“You ready?” Kuroo asked, now looking at you.
You nodded, half-jogging to join him on the street. Even today, even when it seemed like he just wanted to go home and sleep, he was still walking you home. Sure, your house wasn’t all that far from his, but he still went out of his way every night, just to make sure you felt comfortable.
That quiet thoughtfulness was part of who he was. You’d seen him direct it at Kenma all the time.
The same Kenma who’d just sent you a silent plea.
The Kenma, who never looked you in the eyes for longer than half a second.
The Kenma, who had just asked you to speak to his best friend.
That was all the push you needed.
“Hey, Kuroo?” You murmured.
“Hm?”
“Are you okay?” You asked.
Kuroo looked at you, one eyebrow raised. He was torn.
Should he really burden you with this? Was it right for him to worry you again?
But you’re looking at him with such genuine concern, such genuine care. And the advice you’d given him when he was worried about Kenma had been both helpful and effective. And surely, you wouldn’t have asked that question if you didn’t want a proper answer, right?
Fuck it, he thought.
“I feel like I’m not measuring up,” he sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “My blocking hasn’t been improving. And I don’t know why. I’ve been trying to work on my read blocking but I just can’t get it down. I can’t even fix the problem because I don’t know what the problem is.”
He took a deep breath, his steps slowing to a stop. “I convinced Kenma to stay on, but I’m not a team-mate he can be proud of.”
“Kuroo…”
You looked at him, cloaked in the shadows of the street. His gaze was cast at the ground, his brow furrowed and the smallest of pouts on his lips. You wanted to hug him, but you weren’t sure if that’d help.
You didn’t quite know what to say. You knew what it was like to get caught up in your own insecurities – you were sure most people did. You knew he couldn’t see himself the way you saw him; tenacious, hard-working, passionate.
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” you murmured. No, that was too soft – too wishy-washy. “I know that it… seems kind of silly for me to say, but you are.”
You clenched your fists to steel yourself, taking a step closer to him. That got his attention – he looked up at you, eyes slightly wide.
“You feel like you’re not measuring up, or that you’re not improving… but I don’t see it that way.” It was true. You watched him push himself harder each and every day, improving little by little. And when he wasn’t, he’d learn from those mistakes.
“It must be easy to lose yourself on the court, but from where I’m standing… you’re improving every day.” Your eyes searched his face, looking for any indication that your words were having some kind of impact.
“And… you don’t need to be the world’s best middle blocker, you know?” You said, tilting your head at him. “You’re good, Kuroo. And you know you’ve got space to improve – that’s your strength. That makes you a team-mate worth being proud of.”
He was staring at you, eyes still wide. The dim light of the street hid the blush on his cheeks. For that, he was thankful.
“Uh…” He felt like he should say something. But he didn’t quite know what. ‘Thank you’ would’ve been the natural response, but those words just wouldn’t come.
“Sorry,” you blushed, your nerves finally catching up with you as you looked away from him. “I didn’t mean to… push your boundaries or anything like that, but… if you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”
Had you overstepped his boundaries? Had you made him uncomfortable? Those questions plagued you for the rest of the way home, Kuroo still quiet and reticent at your side.
You hadn’t overstepped his boundaries at all. Kuroo just couldn’t find the right words, even as you closed the distance to your house.
In all honesty, he’s touched. Touched that you cared so much. Touched that you reached out, even though he could tell how nervous you were. Touched that you were paying that much attention.
As he walked through the door of his own home, he couldn’t get the image of you looking up at him so resolutely out of his head.
He’d have to thank some deity above for the fact you were bad at chemistry, wouldn’t he?
✉
[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:57 PM: hey so uh
[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:57 PM: i just wanted to say thanks
[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:58 PM: for listening to me be all emotional like that
[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:58 PM: i put a lot on you but you were really nice about it
[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:59 PM: so yeah
[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:59 PM: thanks
[YOU] 10:59 PM: NO! DON’T APOLOGISE!
[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:59 PM: !?!?!?!
[YOU] 11:00 PM: honestly, i don’t mind! and i’m happy to listen :(
[YOU] 11:00 PM: i’m here if you need to talk to anyone, okay?
[japan’s okayest tutor] 11:04 PM: you too
✧ ✧ ✧
You were alone.
Your sobs were the only sound fracturing the fragile silence of the empty gym as you slumped against the wall, your knees brought up to your chest.
Why did you have to fuck up so bad? You’d managed to survive your first year with no drama, the only cause of concern being your studies. They were overwhelming enough to deal with on their own. You’d certainly felt down about your grades and whatnot before, but those ruts were a little easier to pull yourself out of. ‘They’re just grades,’ you’d try and tell yourself. ‘You can improve next time. And they don’t define you as a person.’ Even if you didn’t quite believe any of that, it was nice to have some rhetoric to at least attempt to counteract those thoughts.
But now? Now you truly felt alone. Like no-one cared about you.
You felt like you deserved it. Like anyone who cared about you was wasting their time. Like you were taking up their time and attention undeservedly.
It was all too overwhelming.
The pain choked you. Every thought, every feeling you’d been trying to fend off for so long ripped through you like an arrow.
Fuck, why couldn’t you just hold yourself together? Why did you have to be so weak?
You let go. And you cried. And cried. And cried.
The sound shattered the vacuous silence of the gym. You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting there, letting your sobs rack through your body.
Your throat was sore.
Your eyes stung.
You were alone.
And you deserved it.
“Woah.”
You froze. You knew that voice.
“Hey.” Kuroo knelt in front of you, his hands finding their way to your forearms. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He was knelt in front of you, eyebrows knitted together as his eyes roamed your face.
You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. Shit, why was he here? Why hadn’t he just headed home?
You didn’t want anyone to see you like this. You didn’t want to worry them.
Kuroo’s arms found their way around you, coaxing you gently towards his chest. You collapsed into him, burying your face in his chest.
Fuck, that didn’t help at all. Your sobs came with more voracity, rawer and harsher than they had been.
He just held you, chin propped on your head and one hand rubbing your back. He didn’t say anything; he knew you didn’t need that right now. He knew that in moments like this, it was nice just to be held. To feel like someone’s there.
And then slowly, breath by breath, everything seemed to calm. Your sobs grew softer and softer against his chest, his gentle hums setting a new rhythm for your fractured mind. He was grounding you; each touch, each sound was an attempt to bring you back down to earth. You could tell it wasn’t the most comfortable position for him, crouched awkwardly in front of you while holding you to his chest, but he stayed.
He stayed until your breathing had levelled out, and your grip on his shirt had loosened.
“There you go,” Kuroo murmured, letting you go. He shifted to sit next to you, and you immediately missed his warmth. You found a little comfort as he looped an arm around your shoulder.
You took a long, shaky breath. You weren’t sure how long you’d keep it together for, but you were glad for the reprieve.
“What are you doing here?” You sniffed, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand. He shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have made him worry about you.
“You didn’t show up for our little study session,” he said, eyebrows knitted together. “I tried texting you, but you didn’t respond. And I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
Shit. You’d forgotten to tell him you’d ‘headed home early.’
“I was worried about you,” he murmured, giving your shoulder a squeeze.
You swallowed roughly, the guilt bubbling up in your chest.
“I’m sorry–”
“No.” Kuroo shook his head. “Don’t apologize. If you need to get it out, you need to get it out.”
You bit your lip, looking down at your hands. Your knuckles blanched pale as you clenched the fabric of your skirt.
“And,” he swallowed, “if you need to talk to someone… I’m here.”
Your breath caught in your throat as you felt everything rush back. The fight. The loneliness. The insomnia.
Kuroo didn’t need to hear this. And you didn’t want to burden him with this.
But God, you needed to talk to someone.
“I- I had an argument with Hana,” you sniffed, fingers playing with the hem of your jacket.
You could barely remember how it started. Something stupid, probably. Something immature. But it had blown way out of proportion, and she wasn’t speaking to you anymore. You’d been spending your lunchtimes alone, behind the gym or in an empty classroom. You didn’t have the strength to face the rest of your friends, nor did you know what she’d been telling them.
It had struck at the worst possible time, too. The usual anxieties about grades and the future had been compounding recently. You’d been a bit more down than usual, and this whole Hana debacle had exacerbated that. You were usually able to manage feelings like this, finding ways to keep your head above water.
But not this time.
“I just,” you swallowed, squeezing your eyes shut. “I just feel like something’s missing. And, and I’m… there’s… there’s this gap in my heart, and I don’t know how to stop feeling so empty.”
You took a deep breath, feeling it tremble through your body. “But… but I also just feel so numb.”
And all of it, even the numbness, was overwhelming. No matter how desperately you tried to distract yourself, you couldn’t. Nothing worked. You’d lost too many nights sitting at the bottom of your shower, letting the water run down your back as your mind ran in the same repeating circles.
You were exhausted.
“And part of me,” you swallowed, your throat rough and dry as your emotions tried to hammer themselves into something coherent. “Part of me feels like… like it’s wrong to feel like this.”
God, that felt stupid. Stupid, but true. On top of everything, you felt defunct.
And frankly, you couldn’t say why. Was it shame? Guilt? Something else?
“Hey.” Kuroo’s voice was low, almost soft as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “You’re gonna feel what you’re gonna feel,” he murmured, “You shouldn’t feel guilty about that, okay?”
He felt you tremble as you tried to take a deep breath.
He knew that your pain wasn’t a one-to-one reflection of his own. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to understand exactly what you were going through.
But he knew what it was like to be a small child, so afraid, so alone, without an understanding of what was really going on around him.
He knew what it was like to feel as if something was missing, like there was a constant gap in your heart. He’d felt that way when his parents had split up. He’d only been a kid, too young to properly comprehend why that had been happening.
All he had known was that his family had crumbled to pieces around him. And then his mother was gone, half a world away with little more than a kiss on his forehead as a goodbye. He hadn’t been ready for it. He had felt like he might never be.
That feeling of separation had followed him, even into his teen years. It was quieter now, a half-whisper on the bad days. Usually, he could ignore it, setting his mind to more productive concerns. But, it never quite disappeared.
Kuroo knew what it was like to be lonely.
And he hated seeing you go through the exact same thing.
Lonely. Afraid. Probably hoping that someone, somewhere, would acknowledge your pain.
That was the worst part. Wanting your suffering to be known. Wanting someone to look at all of it, to see it for what it was. But no matter how palpable that desire was, how desperately you wanted it, it was too terrifying. To speak up was to be a burden. To speak up was to expose yourself to pity; and that was always the last thing you needed.
Pity’s useless. All you were asking for, all you really wanted was understanding. Acknowledgment. To have someone see.
He knew exactly what that was like.
“You, uh…” The sentiment caught in his throat, somehow both persistent and reticent.
“You don’t have to do this alone.”
They were the very words he’d wished someone had said to him all those years ago. The words he’d wanted someone to offer him, a child who didn’t know how to reach out. To cry out for help.
And in that moment, with his arms around the manager who had looked after him and his boys so well, Kuroo felt that call.
✉
[passable at best] 8:30 PM: hey
[passable at best] 8:30 PM: how are you feeling?
[YOU] 8:45 PM: alright
[YOU] 8:45 PM: i ate dinner and i’ve just been watching youtube
[YOU] 8:46 PM: and i’ve been drinking a lot of water
[passable at best] 8:46 PM: i’m glad to hear that
[passable at best] 8:46 PM: make sure you get an early night, yeah?
[YOU] 8:47 PM: i’ll try
[passable at best] 8:47 PM: and if you need anything, please text me
✧ ✧ ✧
“Come to the temple with me.”
The surprise was evident on your face. You’re glad he couldn’t see you. “What… just us?”
“Yeah.” There’s a pause. An almost painful one. “I couldn’t get Kenma to leave the house, so…”
You pretended you weren’t disappointed. If anyone could see you, they wouldn’t be convinced.
“Oh, well, uh…” Your fists curled into your nightgown. “Sure.”
“Great!” You could hear the smile in his voice. It’s the one you like best; full of sunlight, pure and whole. The one that reached his eyes. “I’ll, uh… see you at eight?”
Usually, if someone had called you at seven-thirty in the morning, you would’ve simply ignored them. But when you’d seen that it was him, you’d answered immediately. The lack of hesitation was almost frightening.
There was no reason that your fondness for a certain Kuroo Tetsurou should scare you. You just knew that you adored the guy. In less than a year, he’d become one of your favourite people. And, he’d been such a solid support for you. Of course you’d go to the temple with him.
But as you stood at the temple steps, swallowed up by a coat and two jumpers, you wondered if anyone was worth being this cold for.
“Sorry I’m late.”
You glared up at him, nose embarrassingly red.
“What?” He groaned, hands dug deep in his pockets.
“It’s cold.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“It’s eight in the morning.”
“Hey,” he grinned, reaching up and ruffling your hair with a gloved hand. “You could’ve said no.”
You huffed. Unfortunately, he was right.
“Well, I’m touched,” he chuckled, looking up at the sky. “It’s a nice morning, though.” He looked back down at you with a grin. He was far too peppy for this hour of the morning. “You ready?”
The walk up the steps was almost laborious, given just how cold it was. Your breath misted in front of you as you told each other about your first dreams of the year; he’s still regaling a tale about Kenma turning into a dragon with five heads and chasing him through the streets of Tokyo by the time you reach the fortunes.
You tried to shake off the superstitious jitters as you carefully chose one of the knots on the string. Kuroo showed much less care.
As you read the fortune written out on your strip, you let out a surreptitious sigh of relief. You looked at Kuroo, tilting your head.
“What’d you get?” You sniffled. You hoped you wouldn’t get a cold from this.
“Bad luck,” he said, turning the strip towards you.
You snorted. “Oh, ow.”
He shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.” His expression said otherwise; it was that half-grimace he had whenever he didn’t want to admit he was wrong. Or that Bokuto had done something cool.
“Really?” You grinned, tilting your head at him. “You’re not bothered by it at all?”
“Alright, what did you get then?” He peered down at you, puffing out his chest.
“A little luck.” You held your strip towards him, and he scowled.
“Bad luck’s more exciting,” he mumbled.
“Don’t be mad about it,” you smiled, nudging him with your elbow. “God just likes me more.”
“Oi,” he huffed, ruffling your hair with a cold hand.
“Hey!” You wacked his hand away, but he just cackled.
“Anyway, you’ve forgotten the most important part of a temple visit,” he yawned, looking back at the fortunes lined up on the strings.
“Hm?” You frowned.
“You gotta make a promise,” he sniffled, his fortune scrunched up in his hand.
You pouted, your hands dug deep in your pockets. A promise, huh? Did he mean a wish? You weren’t about to argue the point. He’d win it, anyway.
“You go first,” you mumbled, a little embarrassed by the fact that nothing was coming to mind.
He paused, staring at you for a moment. You squinted back, perhaps half as a challenge.
“Hm,” Kuroo puffed his cheeks out, looking up at the sky for a moment. “I promise… to always be there for you. No matter what.”
You blushed. What sort of promise was that? And why did it make you feel like… this?
Thwump!
You were only half aware of it as you punched him in the stomach.
“What was that for?” He wheezed, hands clamped on his stomach as he stumbled back a few steps.
“You can’t say things like that!” You whined, feeling the colour in your cheeks growing deeper.
“Why not?” There was something a little too genuine in his frown.
“Because I was going to say something really lame!” It was only eight-thirty in the morning, and Kuroo had already worked his way under your skin. And you weren’t entirely sure he’d meant to. “If I knew you were gonna say something like that, I’d’ve said it back.”
He raised an eyebrow at you. “You still can, you know.”
“Oh.” Yeah. You could.
That was all he needed. In an instant, that familiar grin was once again adorning his face, and he was towering over you. A little closer than maybe was appropriate.
“Is that… a blush I see?” Oh, he looked far too pleased with himself. You had half a mind to punch him again.
“Shut up,” you huffed.
“Aw, have I made you all embarrassed?” He grinned, ruffling your hair. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words spoiled by his fake pout.
“If you don’t shut up, I won’t say it,” you threatened, glaring at him as resolutely as you could. The weird twang in your chest made it more difficult than it usually was.
He shut his mouth immediately, eyes a little bigger and much more expectant than usual.
“Kuroo Tetsurou–”
“Are you about to propose?”
“You know what? Nevermind–”
“No, no, no! I’m sorry!” His shoulders were slouched towards you, head tilted to the side and a bright smile on his face. “I’ll shut up.”
You took a deep breath. It certainly felt a bit like you were trying to propose to him. You shuffled that thought out of your mind as quickly as you could. Once again, Kuroo had put you in a situation you hadn’t quite anticipated.
“No matter what comes, and no matter how irritating you are–”
“Hey!”
“–I promise that I’ll be there to support you,” you managed to say, cheeks flaring and fists clenched. “I… really care about you.”
You couldn’t bear the look he was giving you. It was the look you’d give something you positively adored – something you believed would bring nothing but light to your life. It was a look so full of affection that you felt like you might shatter beneath it.
He reached out and wrapped you in his arms, pulling you gently into his chest. You snuck your arms under his jacket, circling them around his waist. You’d done it mostly on instinct, but you weren’t upset about it. It’s warm, and it’s nice, and you didn’t want to question it.
There’s too much to worry about – studies, volleyball, the fact that it’s really not all that long until you’re third years. That took precedence. Whatever’s going on here – whatever this was – couldn’t take priority.
All you knew for certain was that you loved Kuroo Tetsurou. In what way didn’t matter. And this in-between, this unnamed space was comfortable. And, as far as you could tell, it belonged to both of you. If he didn’t want to say anything about it, then neither did you.
✉
[i can be your angle] 5:21 PM: hey hey
[YOU] 5:21 PM: hey hey hey!
[i can be your angle] 5:21 PM: no don’t do that
[i can be your angle] 5:21 PM: anyway, i just wanted to make sure you’re practicing appropriate after-cold care
[YOU] 5:21 PM: why do you always have to phrase things Like That
[i can be your angle] 5:22 PM: no idea what you’re talking about
[i can be your angle] 5:22 PM: anyway, drink a tea or two, stick a heat pack (or seven) in the microwave, and rug up
[i can be your angle] 5:22 PM: can’t have you going and catching a cold