A CHOICE IN A MAZE OF MIRRORS

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑 seemed louder than usual as Kenma fiddled with his glass. He kept playing with the stir stick, swirling the froth of the drink around and admiring the colours, finding new ways to distract himself. The bubbles popped as he delicately touched them, the fizz of the drink never reducing.

He sighed, bored with his little game again. He took out his phone, texting Kuroo. The one time he wanted his oaf of a friend to be there to annoy him, he had decided to be late.

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He sighed yet again, resisting the urge to spam Kuroo until he showed up, before he heard a ping.

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He turned around, and there stood Kuroo, in all his glory. He smiled at kenma, switching his phone off and sliding into the booth next to him.

"Seems like you ordered before me, huh? I'm hurt," Kuroo made a face. He was still in his suit and tie, and had probably just gotten off work.

"You should be," Kenma fake-smirked at him, playing along and taking a long sip.

"How dare you!" Kuroo cried out, trying not to laugh. Kenma smiled; he felt better in Kuroo's prescence.

"What about Akaashi and Bokuto?" Kenma stared into his glass, stirring it again.

"They said they'll be here in a little bit," Kuroo waved his hand to get a worker's attention, and gave them his order. "Why? You seem excited to see everyone for some reason."

"It's not like that," Kenma squinted at Kuroo, trying to put him off. Kuroo raised his eyebrows, and the edge of his lips titled up in a knowing smirk. Shit; he was onto him.

"So," He raised his glass to his lips, taking a sip. "What's wrong?"

"Huh?" Kenma tried his best to sound realistic. "What?"

"So, you're playing the 'I'm-distressed-but-won't-tell-you-why' game?" Kuroo smiled, the familiar, strong figure of him calming Kenma. "I've known you for more than half our lives. I know when you're not alright."

Kenma looked at the table, pulling at the drawstring of his hoodie. He knew, so it was okay to tell him, right?

"You remember Y/n?" Kenma tried to approach the topic calmly. "The girl I dated in highschool, your best friend for like forever?"

"Oh, Y/n!" Kuroo lit up. Y/n and Kuroo had always gotten along, Kenma knew that. He met Y/n through Kuroo; he and Y/n were once so close that people would mistake them for siblings — he also knew that he was the reason their relationship had shattered. Kuroo's face changed to a frown the second he remembered everything that had happened. "Are you thinking about the breakup?"

"Well, yeah—"

"You didn't deserve that, Kenma, I don't know why you still think about her." Kuroo continued. 

"Kuroo—" 

"She would go on and on about how great you were to her, and then she had the audacity to play the victim in front of me. I was heartbroken, Kenma."

"Listen—" Kenma kept trying the cut him off.

"She was the one who ended things all of a sudden, right? I don't know how she got the nerve—"

"I was the one who broke up with her."

Suddenly, all the commotion in the bar wasn't enough to shield Kenma from the way Kuroo looked at him. Kenma might as well have punched him in the guts — Kuroo looked as if he was waiting for Kenma to take his words back, but he didn't. He couldn't; not when it took him 10 years to say them. Kenma looked away.

"What?" Kuroo finally spoke, his voice a broken whisper — yet, the sound of his heart being torn apart was evident over all other noise.

"She didn't break up with me. I ended it."

"Kenma, you're joking right?"

Kenma continued staring at the table. He couldn't bring himself to look at Kuroo.

"Kenma, I—I took your side," Kuroo's words came out as a laugh of denial, his eyes wide. He reached out, shaking Kenma lightly.

"I believed you over her," Kuroo's voice was getting more and more breathless by the second. "I haven't talked to her for 10 years, you can't be telling me that it was a lie!"

Kuroo's heavy breathing could be heard, and Kenma knew he was looking at him, waiting for an answer.

"I'm sorry," Kenma blurted, unable to say anything else.

"Sorry for what?" Kuroo's voice was getting louder by the minute. "She was crying, Kenma! CRYING!"

His hands left the table, and Kenma glanced up. His hands were on his shaking head, still trying to tell himself that it wasn't true.

"She was crying and I— I—" His voice rose, his hands slamming on the table. "I MADE THAT SACRIFICE, AND I MADE IT FOR YOU! I LEFT HER THERE! YOU'RE TELLING ME YOU LIED TO ME?"

Kenma put his hands over his eyes, trying hard to keep his breath steady.

"YOU USED ME, KENMA, FOR AN EASY WAY OUT OF THE SHITHOLE YOU MADE FOR YOURSELF!"

"WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?" Kenma stood up, grabbing Kuroo's shoulders. "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, KUROO, I—"

He stared into Kuroo's hurt, glazed over eyes; he knew he had no explanation for what he had done. His hands fell to his sides.

"In that moment," Kenma whispered, staring down at Kuroo's shoes. "I couldn't be the one to take the bullet."

Kuroo's silence was deafening. Kenma wanted Kuroo to forgive him — the bigger part of him knew he was worthy of no such thing.

Kuroo sighed, and Kenma saw a single tear fall onto the ground next to Kuroo's feet.

Kenma put his hands over his eyes again, shaking his head ever so lightly. He heard Kuroo's footsteps retreat amongst the muffled sound through his hands, and watched his shoes turn and leave. Tears started fighting their way out of Kenma's eyes.

Kenma had messed up, yet again. He knew that Kuroo and Y/n had been best of friends, sister and brother, each other's strength — there was not one without the other. A simple lie, a moment of choice and confused truths had ruined this beautiful relationship they shared — Kuroo had a choice; he had chosen Kenma, and had lived to regret it. 

Kenma knew it was his fault, and he knew he shouldn't have done things the way he did.

A ping from his phone distracted him from his thoughts.

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