♢

Kenma should've noticed earlier.

He should've noticed the dark bags that hung under his best friend's eyes, the dark sleepless rings that pulled tired sighs from his lips and dampened his normally cheeky smile. Kuroo had been far more tired lately, far more dragging. His movements were slower in practice and afterward, he all but collapsed in an exhausted heap, forcing Kenma to practically drag him home. But Kenma had attributed it to the change in schedules the school had issued for the start of the semester. That was Kenma's first mistake.

He should've noticed Kuroo's increasing number of absences from school. He should've realized that the vague texts about how he didn't feel good or overslept were just a badly conceived cover to veil the real reason he wasn't coming to school, the real reason he couldn't manage to drag himself to practice. It should've been his first warning sign actually because Kuroo never missed practice, not for anything. He'd once shown up with the flu in a mask and gloves so that he didn't get anyone sick.

But what Kenma would never forgive himself for was the fact that he didn't notice the bruises. Or more that he did, and he didn't do anything about it. Because they played volleyball, bruises were normal, right? With the sheer amount of falling and receiving they did, they should expect the painful little markings. But Kenma should've noticed that they were in the wrong place. He should've realized that you didn't get purple-black bruises the size of baseballs from falling on the court. He should've realized that you didn't get a fractured rib from getting hit in the sternum by a ball filled with literal air.

But he didn't. Kenma didn't because he didn't think there was anything to notice. He didn't think there was anything to worry about because why would he ever worry about Kuroo? Kuroo had life down to an art. He was handsome and popular and amazing at volleyball and everybody loved him. He was perfect. Why should Kenma worry about Kuroo when Kuroo was the one who had it all figured out? Sometimes he still got nightmares about how wrong he was to think that.

Kenma was spending his lunch exploring the only wing of the school that was abandoned between eleven and twelve when the realization found him and came crashing down on him like a ton of bricks. His beat-up sneakers scribbled in blooming flowers of black sharpie squeaked on the perfectly clean floors as he made his way down the empty halls. People didn't really come here. Mainly because no one had any interest and nobody really wanted to spend their precious time exploring something so boring. But Kenma wasn't hungry anyway, and this seemed like the perfect place to go when he didn't want to be bothered by anyone.

And it was so quiet too. There wasn't a sound except for him and his echoing sneakers. No one around to annoy him or pester or bug him. Normally, he'd be sitting with Kuroo, pretending to be interested in the conversation that was going on around him when really he was just using his boyfriend to shelter himself from the rest of the world, but Kuroo wasn't there to protect him today. He'd been there for half the day but ran off after second period claiming he needed to get something from home. And, despite numerous attempts, Kenma couldn't manage to slip the teachers enough to sneak out and see him.

So here he was, sighing in a lonely way as he tried not to miss his boyfriend too much, to no avail. Kenma, despite not being a very outwardly expressive person, always missed Kuroo terribly whenever he wasn't with him. It was like half of him was missing and there wasn't really anything Kenma could do to quell that feeling other than desire to be alone.

And that's what he was. Alone. Another sigh escaped his lips but was quickly cut short by a sound that couldn't have been a normal creak in the building. He couldn't possibly be hearing things, could he? Was he hallucinating? Kenma looked up from his game only briefly to survey the hallway with furrowed eyebrows. Nothing. There was nothing. No one. It was just him, but he was sure he'd heard a sound, almost like a whimper.

And as much as Kenma's instincts told him to just turn the hell around and make his way back to the normal lunchroom, he couldn't help but be drawn to the source of the sound. It was oddly familiar, like he'd heard that sound before, he just couldn't place it. So, despite everything in his brain telling him to run from the poltergeist in the bathroom, Kenma actually quickened his pace, almost in rebellion.

And it didn't take long for him to find the source of the sound that steadily grew, louder and louder until Kenma could hear it almost painfully clearly. It sounded like crying. There was crying. Who was crying? Of course, it made sense that they would choose an abandoned wing of the school to wallow, but why a bathroom? Who dared invade Kenma's alone time? They couldn't monopolize the only people-less space in the school.

Kenma steeled his nerves for what he was about to be subjected to as he pushed open the door of the boy's bathroom, drawing in a breath and mentally preparing himself to contort his face into a look of sympathy for whatever stupid problem the crying person was having that wouldn't involve Kenma in the slightest. Really, he just wanted his alone space back and as much as he wanted to be mister nice guy like his boyfriend, he just didn't have the energy.

The very middle stall was the source of the sound, a small, subdued sobbing muffled by hands and teeth digging into a bottom lip. And Kenma had to admit that he felt the very slightest bit of sympathy for whoever was inside. If they were trying so hard to hide their pain, it must be something they didn't want anyone to know about. In fact, the guilt was so strong that he almost turned back, but Kenma was already too far in to go back, so he drew in a sigh before quietly tapping on the stall door as he bolstered his confidence and said,

"H-Hey, are...you okay?" He was dreading whatever answer the person might give him. Either they lied and told him they were fine and it made him feel like an even worse person, or they actually explained to him what was wrong and he was stuck trying to mediate someone else's problems when he could barely handle his own. But the answer he got was far more terrible than anything he could've imagined.

"Kenma?" The voice was so small he barely recognized it, but something about its deep tone registered in the back of his mind. He would know that voice just about anywhere. And for a moment, all Kenma could manage to do was stand there, his lips parted slightly in shock. What was he doing here? Why was he crying?

"Kuro?" Kenma barely registered the sound of the lock clicking open beneath his fingers because his heart was beating too loudly in his ears, drowning out everything but Kuroo's small voice as he pleaded,

"No, Kenma, please don't-"

What Kenma saw as he pushed his way into the small stall, hands trembling, was physically painful. It made his chest ache and everything in his brain seemed to still to a halt as he tried to process what was happening in front of him. It was horrible because what he saw was his boyfriend, head craned all the way to the side, hiding one side of his face. And a horrible sensation ran through Kenma's body. His stomach dropped and his heart twisted in his chest and his lungs felt robbed of air as he watched tears stream down his boyfriend's face.

Kuroo never cried. Kuroo didn't cry when he got scrapes all the way down to his muscle on his knees as a preschooler. Kuroo didn't cry when his parents got divorced, just sat there, playing games with Kenma in dead silence. Kuroo didn't cry when he'd gotten a concussion in the middle of a volleyball game, the most important one in his life up until that point. He just got back up again because Kuroo didn't cry. But now he was crying and Kenma could see the hurt in his eyes and it killed him inside.

Kenma melted to his knees and reached up gently to tilt Kuroo's head in his direction, failing to hold back the tears that wanted to stream from his golden eyes as Kuroo flinched away from his touch. Kenma momentarily considered pulling away, but he wasn't going to leave Kuroo alone now. He refused to. Kuroo never left Kenma alone, not even when he was a bad friend and a horrible loser. So Kenma wasn't going to leave his boyfriend even if the world was falling apart.

Kenma's fingertips trembled against Kuroo's jawline as he gently tilted his boyfriend's head, and the golden-eyed boy almost broke when he saw the dark bruise over Kuroo's left eye. It was black and purple and a small cut that had since stopped bleeding stood out against his cheekbone, a bright accent of red against the painfully dark marking. Stinging tears welled in Kenma's eyes as his fingertips brushed over the edge of his wound, tears because Kuroo wouldn't even look at him. Because he couldn't even make eye contact with his boyfriend... Because he looked so ashamed.

"K-Kuroo...what happened?" Kenma barely choked out the words that were lodged in his throat, everything in his body aching to kiss the pain away but knowing that wouldn't fix anything at the moment. Kuroo needed more than just simple kisses.

"He wanted to see me outside of school...to apologize..." The taller boy still refused to look at Kenma, eyes angled sharply downward as tears fell like snowflakes, delicately and gently. Kuroo flinched when one of the burning, salty droplets fell over the open wound on his cheekbone and Kenma felt like he was being robbed of the air in his lungs, like his chest was collapsing in on itself. This wasn't right. "But we argued and...And he..." There was a moment of silence in which Kenma didn't understand what he was trying to say. His words were fragmented and broken, his breaths staggered and shallow, barely there. But it was only a moment. Because an almost terrifyingly dizzy sensation washed over Kenma as the realization hit him. He felt like his world was collapsing in on itself and he couldn't pick up the pieces fast enough.

Kuroo's dad liked spending time overseas, but he didn't exactly trust Kuroo, which, if Kenma was being honest, was fair. It wasn't like Kuroo was the most responsible with himself and he would probably forget to eat breakfast every morning consistently if someone wasn't there to remind him. So it only made sense that his father wanted to someone to look after him. And that's where Kuroo's brother stepped in. That's where things got so bad.

Because Kuroo's brother was a nice guy. A genuinely nice guy. When he was sober. When he wasn't he was mean. Really mean. He was kick you when you're down, and beat you when you're up. He was break you until you couldn't be broken any more and then stomp on you more. He was pure evil and he played it off so well when he wasn't behind a bottle. And it made Kenma sick just to look at him because he was a homophobic little prick whenever he got some alcohol in him. But he had never known that something like this would happen.

Kenma didn't think he could feel any more pain than when he saw his boyfriend beaten like that. He didn't think his chest could collapse any more. He didn't think there was any air in his lungs left to steal, but Kuroo proved him wrong when he opened his mouth again, words Kenma never wanted to hear from him leaving his lips in a breathy rush.

"It...it was my fault I just-"

"It wasn't your fault, Tetsuro," Kenma shook his head, feeling on the edge of breaking down at any moment as he held his boyfriend's face in his hands, brushing strands of his soft black hair out of his eyes and being careful not to upset his bruise. But Kuroo just shook his head as if Kenma wasn't getting it. And truthfully, Kenma didn't understand.

"Yes, it was I... I just I couldn't stop him-"

"That doesn't mean it's your fault!" Kenma wasn't taking that. There was no reason Kuroo should think that it was his fault. It couldn't be his fault. Kenma didn't care what he did. Kuroo deserved better. He deserved so much better. He deserved the fucking world but instead he got fear and pain and hiding in an empty bathroom stall, covering up the fact that he was hurting.

"YOU DON'T GET IT-" Kuroo's voice was too loud and it echoed almost painfully around the empty bathroom and his hands gripped the smaller boy's wrists tighter, pulling them away from his face just a little too aggressively. Kenma couldn't help the way his eyes widened shock, but the look on Kuroo's face, something in between sheer terror and pain that made Kenma's heart twist in his chest. Like he was so scared of Kenma leaving. And his voice lowered to an almost inaudible level as he suddenly loosened grip, desperately tugging his boyfriend's hands back to his face. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please....please..."

"I'm not going anywhere, Tetsuro," Kenma could only whisper as a sob ached to be released from his chest. The smaller boy traded his hands on his boyfriend's face in favor of wrapping his arms around Kuroo's neck and running his fingers through Kuroo's soft black hair. And it was true, he wasn't going anywhere. Not until his Kuroo was safe and happy, not until he felt loved. And even then he would stay by Kuroo's side. "I promise... How long has it been since you slept?"

"Two days..."

"You're sleeping at my house tonight."

"Okay."

☾

Kuroo was terrible at Halo, but Kenma considered it to be one of his charming points. It was honestly kind of cute to watch him repeatedly blow himself up because he didn't understand the concept of throwing a grenade. However, no matter how many times Kuroo playfully rolled his eyes and shot Kenma his characteristic sly grin any time he actually did something right, Kenma couldn't get that image out of his mind. The image of his Kuroo sitting there so lifeless on the bathroom floor.

They had to make up an elaborate story about Yaku and Lev throwing hands to explain away the bruise to Kenma's mom, and Kenma was saddened by just how good Kuroo was at making up a story that couldn't possibly be true. It hurt the smaller boy because he couldn't help but wonder how many times he'd fallen for one of his boyfrriend's stories. How many times had he dismissed a chance to help the one person who meant everything to him because it was easier to believe a lie than to accept the truth?

But Kenma understood. Well, he didn't understand. But Kenma would do anything for Kuroo, even if it meant covering up something like this. Because he could see it in Kuroo's eyes, in the ay he sounded when he lied about it, in the way his body had moved when he cried. He was ashamed, what for, Kenma didn't know. Maybe it was because the abuse made him feel weak. Maybe it was because the bruises exposed an ugly side of someone he cared about so much. But either way, Kenma knew it wasn't his place to decide what was shared and what went unsaid.

Plus, Kuroo seemed...happy when he wasn't thinking about it. Sometimes he flinched when something irritated his wound, but he seemed to so easily forget all about it all when they were playing video games or when they were talking to Kenma's mom about practice or when he was whispering sarcastic comments during Godzilla while he rested his chin on Kenma's head and kept his arms securely wrapped around his boyfriend. He seemed happy, and that's all Kenma really wanted for Kuroo. He just wanted his boyfriend to be happy.

So Kenma didn't talk about it. He didn't mention it even though he couldn't hide the sad looks that sometimes materialized on his face when he couldn't control his expression. He didn't mention it even though every time Kuroo grinned a little too wide, he flinched in pain. He didn't mention it even though it made his chest ache to know Kuroo had been going home to pain every night.

So, when they stepped into Kenma's bedroom, kicking the door closed behind them, Kenma didn't say anything. He kept his mouth shut as he traced the beautiful angles of his boyfriend's face, avoiding the ever-darkening bruise that encircled his left eye. He just started at Kuroo with a mixture of sadness and fondness captured in those beautiful golden eyes of his. And Kuroo's hands lingered on his waist, not even minding the slight sting when Kenma's thumb accidentally brushed over his open wound. He didn't mind because even though Kenma's breath hitched in his throat like he'd done something wrong, Kuroo knew his boyfriend would never hurt him on purpose.

"You're so careful..." Kuroo muttered as he leaned down, lips hovering just over Kenma's, his warm breath fanning Kenma's lips. Kenma's thought's blurred between the burning desire to crash his lips against his boyfriend's and the aching sadness that made him shudder at Kuroo's words. "I'm not going to fall apart, Kitten," Kuroo took the initiative for both of them, much to Kenma's appreciation. He knew that if it was left up to him, the smaller boy would just stand there in indecision.

Kenma almost broke when Kuroo pressed his lips against his and he could feel tears. Tears so soft they were almost nonexistent, but they were there. And they were salty in stark contrast to how blindingly, sickly sweet Kuroo tasted. He tasted like warm vanilla and cinnamon, like pumpkin pie in October and coffee on cold December mornings. Like warm sunsets and the ticklish sensation of lips against Kenma's skin. God, he tasted so good. And Kenma would do anything to make those tears go away. Anything to take his pain away.

Kenma felt Kuroo gasp into the kiss almost desperately, deepening it as if his life depended on how well he could taste the vanilla ice cream they'd had for dessert on his boyfriend's tongue. And Kenma let him because it felt so good. Kuroo needed him- god, he was so needy, and Kenma was going to give him every part of himself, every corner of his heart, until he had nothing left to give. 

When they broke away, Kenma collapsed into his bed, pulling Kuroo with him and sighing into the perfect feeling of his boyfriend wrapping his strong arms around Kenma's waist, holding him so closely like he was the only thing in the world that mattered. The smaller boy just wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's neck, threading his fingers through Kuroo's hair and pressing soft, sickly sweet kisses to his face. He peppered them across Kuroo's cheekbones and nose and jawline and lips, lingering there and cherishing his taste.

"You're sleeping here from now on," Kenma whispered, his voice too watery to go any louder. The smaller boy wasn't really giving him a choice in the matter because it would be a cold day in hell when Kenma ever let his boyfriend go back to that house, and there would never be a day when Kenma let Kuroo get hurt. Never again. If there was only one thing Kenma would make sure of, it was that. He put as little effort into as many things as possible, but he would give his life before he ever let anyone lay a finger on Kuroo again.

"Thank you, Kenma," Kuroo's words were soft and whispered into his boyfriend's neck, lips tickling the smaller boy's jawline. And even though Kuroo didn't need to thank him, he said it anyway. Because there would never be a good enough word for how much Kenma meant to Kuroo. There would never be the right words to summarize how Kenma Kozume was single-handedly the best thing in Kuroo's life. How he was Kuroo's everything. But he could try. "I love you."

"I love you too, Tetsuro," And Kenma meant the words he said. He meant them more deeply than he'd ever meant anything else in his life. "I love you so much."

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