Chapter Text
When you realize something is wrong with you, it's already too late.
It started last week when you were eating out at a yakiniku restaurant with your coworkers to celebrate the release of the skincare product that you've spent months of research and developing. You suddenly lacked appetite, and the smell of garlic suddenly felt too strong you wanted to throw up--and so you did. You simply figured that you were probably too tired after the last research project that your gastric acid started acting up, and then you called it a night and went home earlier even though you really wanted to go bar-hopping afterwards.
But then the next day, after eight hours of sleep, you felt inexplicable fatigue--and it began to alarm you, because you're a person who always understands your limit perfectly. Even though your last completed project were pretty stressful, you never made overworking your habit, and you always know when to stop. Call it self-centered as anyone will, but you never compromise to yourself, even when the higher-ups in your company can be very demanding. Thank goodness your team is very understanding, so when your boss suggested that you probably should take your unused paid leaves, you immediately took it.
The inconveniences happening made you consider checking yourself to the doctor, but it was only significant because it was a buildup of small inconveniences, so you decided not to go.
It goes and it comes, all of which you keep on brushing off.
Looking back, maybe your body knew the reason behind the funny feeling that kept on happening with you, but your mind refused to admit it.
So today, when Akari, your long-time best friend since middle school days calls you to say hi, you casually tell Akari about it by phone as you lay down on your living room sofa. You still feel sluggish, but Akari's cheerful voice calms you up. Maybe you're just missing some familiarity in your life, you think to yourself, maybe you're just homesick. She asks if you've gotten yourself checked. When you answer "no", she goes silent all of a sudden.
"Akari-chan?" You ask. "What's wrong?"
"(Name)-chan," a change to her usual cheerful tone tells you something is very wrong. "Promise me you won't freak out, but I think you're forgetting something very, very big."
"What are you talking about? You know I don't do things such as freaking out," you frown.
Akari lets out a nervous laugh. "No. Listen," her voice serious, "answer my question as concise as possible: when was the last time you had your period?"
Even without answering her question, you know.
Idiot, idiot, idiot.
You pull your phone from your ears to frantically check on your calendar. You have completely forgotten the significance of counting your period calendar for a while, considering that you are now sexually inactive. You begin to mentally curse yourself because you did it unprotected and consciously not taking the morning after pill just weeks before it all ended. You want to mentally curse him, too, for making it so hard. A rush of thoughts running inside your head, thumb still scrolling your calendar.
Your last period was early July.
"(Name)-chan? Is everything okay? Want me to come to your place?"
Still, panicking isn't your thing. Instead of being scared, you take a deep breath while thinking a hundred miles per hour about the next step - getting a solid proof.
"Yes, I'm okay. And no, it's not necessary," not yet, at least, you mentally add. "Akari-chan, I think I gotta go."
“You didn’t answer my question, Name-chan! Is it really it , then?”
“It was two months ago…, so yeah, maybe," you exhale. “But I still have to check before we can panic, okay? Let’s… let’s stay grounded, for now.” You say to Akari, but really it’s as if you are saying it to yourself. But Akari knows you better than anyone else, probably better than him… so even though she probably wants to see you and check up on you so bad, she lets you take care of things of yourself first.
“Okay, Name-chan,” Akari sighs. “But promise me to tell me about it as soon as you get the result, okay?”
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Yes. Of course,” you say.
"And don't ever blame yourself for this." She says sharply.
Your eyes widen at her words, but instead of denying, you chuckle and say, "I was going to, but after you told me not to… I won't," you say. "We are--were consenting adults. I should've been wiser."
"Are you going to tell Kuroo-san about this?"
You flinch a little at the mention of his name, but you don't falter. "I honestly don't know yet,"
There's a brief pause on her end. "Yeah, let's just think about him later." She says.
(Impossible - you are always thinking about him. But you won't say this out loud, obviously.)
"Yeah," you hum. "I gotta go, Akari-chan. Love ya."
You tap the red button, and even though it’s probably not wise to do so, you hurriedly put your shoes on and fly out of your apartment to the nearest convenience store. As you run, images of the night he walked off your door begin to appear.
(“I can’t… I can’t do this anymore, Kuroo. Sorry.”
Your words kept being repeated in his head. The night went on a blur, and your words stung him worse than any volleyball injuries.
He knew there was something off with you, and he knew that it was his fault.
From the six years you'd been in a relationship, you'd never been like this. You'd get mad, but never mad enough to call it off. You'd been so patient, unwavered You held onto him for so long that he'd wondered why he'd be so lucky to ever deserve you.
He would have begged, but he couldn’t. So he went, leaving lots of things behind:
His set of pajamas.
His toothbrush.
His shampoo.
His red mug with a black cat painted on it - well, you gave him that one so might as well give it back.
His spare key to your apartment.
His memories.
You.
You cried. Again. He hated to see it. Moreso when he was the one causing it. He failed to protect that smile, so he didn’t stop you from letting him go.
He'd wondered why he'd be so lucky; he was completely mistaken.
He didn’t deserve you.
He gave you one last glance to the place he’d probably never go back anymore--the apartment and that space in your heart. Your shoulders were shaking. He couldn’t stand it.
The door slammed shut, and everything was over.)
When you stare at the strip on your hand shortly afterwards, its two pink lines stare back at you - and suddenly it’s turtles all the way down.
You’re not a person who meticulously plans everything beforehand - but you can’t be spontaneous, either. You have at least planned that you will continue working in your current field until you turn 40, and sometime before, you have planned getting married in three or four years from now. That plan has now been scratched, big deal - life often takes random turns, anyway.
But this . This is too much. You’re not scared, you’re not mad, you’re not devastated… you’re just confused.
The clock keeps ticking, and you wonder--what are you gonna do now that he’s out of the picture?
You pull out your phone, contemplating on calling him.
(“Kuroo, can we talk?”
You stood looming above him while he sat in front of the gym entry, drinking his water after practice. Sun had begun to set, and almost everyone was already inside the clubhouse. The only team members who had left were the two of you.
“Ooh, what is this, (Name)-san?” He pretended to check the calendar on his phone. “Don’t you think it’s too early for your Valentine confession?”
Kuroo was ready for your deadpan retort, but he didn’t hear any. Instead, he saw you fidgeting - something you’d been doing for the past week. He’d been seeing you unfocused in your task, spilling the team’s water bottles and getting yourself hit by stray balls. Seeing you acting out of character puzzled him, but every time he tried to ask, you’d dodge it, immediately switching topics or pretending not to hear you. He figured that you’re not ready to tell him about it.
Wait, he thought. What if it’s true that she’s about to confess to me? No, no. That’s foolish .
“I’m serious, Kuroo.” You sighed.
Kuroo caught the urgency in your tone, so instead of teasing you more, he nodded and immediately got up, following your cue to go to the back of the gym building.
When you stopped at the small corner behind the gym, you turned to him, still with the weird expression. “(Name)-san , what’s wrong?” he asked you. The uneasiness of yours was contagious, and the possibility of you confessing to him today (or ever, really--who the hell is he, anyway?) was completely out of the window, so the only thing he could do is to feel concerned. And since it was something that you couldn’t just tell him casually, he could only hope that it was nothing serious.
People liked to think that Kuroo Tetsurou is a laid back guy. Truthfully, the remnants of his awkwardness from his childhood still lingered--most of them could be seen when he’s around you.
You let out another sigh, but you remained standing up straight. “I’m tired of dilly-dallying around, not being able to talk to you for the past week about this,” you said, shoulders slouching. “so I’m gonna make this quick. I’m moving away, Kuroo. Starting this spring, I'll no longer be a Nekoma student."
At first he stared at you blankly, then he blinked once, twice, and as he processed your words, his mouth gaped. “W-what?”
“I know it’s so sudden,” you gulped. “My mom--I know it’s been a while since my father passed away, but my mom… it hasn’t been easy for her, with the shadows of him still looming around. She wants to start anew, and so she did, but she’s been through a lot , and I can’t let her go alone. Not until she finds her footing. So I decided to come with her.”
Tears began to brim on your eyes, and despite him completely bewildered with the news (and he’d really need some time to process it) it really was the last thing he wanted to see from you. He had seen it far too much for the past year when your family issues began more and more complicated. Your father had been terminally ill for some time, and he passed away six months ago. You even had your moments of self-doubt and contemplated quitting your position as a manager, but your best friend Akari stopped you, knowing that you’d be the happiest when managing the team. Having lost his mother himself, he understood your feelings better than anyone, and seeing someone who was relatable to the person he was years ago, he wished he could do something to make you forget about the pain.
But you’ve always been a strong person, smiling for the team even though you’d go home knowing that your father wasn't there or anywhere in the world anymore. He didn’t feel like he had the emotional bond with you like the one you had with Akari, so he did what he could: after the team didn’t qualify to go for both Summer and Spring Interhigh and he was appointed Captain by the recently retired third years, he did specifically instruct the team not to trouble you, and offered you his time whenever he had one. At first, you refused. But he was persistent, and so you began to unravel.
It started with a sad tragedy, but it was between those moments that Kuroo began to see you in another light. Not as Nekoma’s men volleyball team manager… but as something else.
Suddenly, he went from simply wishing to cheer you up to something more. When he saw you cry, somehow it made him feel helpless, weak-- because it made him feel like he wasn’t able to protect you.
Even when he fully realized something was blooming inside of him, he’d never push you. Not even though you had opened up to him and both of you began to hang out together more after practice, or when you and him went to Fukurodani School Festival together and Bokuto caught you both and you were so flustered, or when your elbow brushed his as you and him sat together in the school library to study together during winter break, he didn’t want to take advantage of your situation. You were still mourning, and for him, the weird chemistry he felt between you and him was a mere daydream of his. Especially with this news.
“Look, (Name)-san, I’m really shocked, but… I understand how you feel. Trust me - dealing with a newly-single parent is not an easy feat,” he said, remembering his own father on that fateful day.
“No, I know you’re disappointed--you're just appointed as captain and I know you’re gonna make a good one no matter what Yaku-san says, and I really wish I could see you guys in action, in Nationals, winning against Bokuto-san, making Battle at the Trash Heap a reality--but life just wouldn’t let me. I really wish I could stick to the end, I'm sorry."
God, he really despised your crying face. He stepped forward and touched your tear-stained cheek, wiping it off with his warm, calloused thumb. “It’s okay, (Name)-san. Really. Don’t cry,” he told you. “And don’t mind us. We know how to manage ourselves.”
“But we don’t know how the first-years will be,” you said. “I--I’ve talked a few people who are willing to be my replacement--”
He stilled for a moment. “Nah,” he shook his head, giving you his trademark Cheshire cat grin. “I don’t think I want a replacement.”
So you took steps backward, looking at him in bewilderment. “Are you crazy?” you asked in-between the sobbings. “Your schedule is packed. How are you going to handle everything by yourself?”
“I’m hurt, (Name)-san. Do you think we’re babies who can’t handle anything on our own? There are literally six of us, not to mention the first-years coming next spring,” he chuckled, running his perpetual bed head through his fingers as he leaned his sides on the gym wall. “Well, of course I’m gonna talk with the team about this first… but I don’t think I really need a new manager, nor that I want to.”
In other words, you’re simply too irreplaceable--as a manager and more.
“Okay,” you nodded weakly, giving up. When Kuroo has made his mind, there is nothing you can do about it.
“Sendai, huh,” Kuroo said, staring at the crows soaring in the afternoon sky. “Not quite far. But not quite close, either.”
“Yeah,” you hummed, leaning beside him, watching the same tinge of pale orange above you two. “About two hours with Shinkansen.”
“If it’s not as far as moving to America… watching us in the Nationals isn’t entirely out of the question, then,” he said.
“I’ll be there, I promise. As long as you promise that you’ll be there, too,” you hurriedly add, “as a player, not as a bystander.”
“Of course. I’m not gonna come otherwise. What do you think I’m gonna do, watching Bokuto having one of his mood-swings?” he looked at you, a gentle expression, unlike his usual mischievous ones. “I’ll be there with the team, (Name). As long as you promise that you won’t be the manager of your new school’s volleyball team.”
“Wha--of course I won’t!” you protested, the somber expression of yours finally replaced with the lovely expression you’d have when he’d tease you. “How dare you think about me that way, Kuroo? I just want to focus on entrance exams and graduate in peace!”
“Kidding, kidding,” he laughed. “Man, we’re gonna miss you so much.”
I’m gonna miss you the most, he mentally added.
“The team should visit me, too,” you said. “Practice match with Karasuno, perhaps? We’ve heard Nekomata-sensei’s stories; it’s about time you meet them and make his dream a reality, you know.”
“Huh, great idea as always, (Name) ,” he said. “But it’s useless if we don’t talk afterward, you know.”
“Are you saying that you will forget me as soon as I leave?” you turned to see him, your eyebrows furrowing.
“I’m saying that we have to text each other often. Maybe some video calls, too, if you don’t mind. Anything, so you,” or me, he wanted to add, “won’t get lonely.”
“‘Course I will.”
“So it’s a promise, then.” He put his pinky finger in front of you.
You smile at him-- when did you get so beautiful? --and wrap your smaller, daintier pinky with his own. “It’s a promise.”
Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t his daydream after all.)
You sit on the hospital’s one of many plastic chairs, with faint voices of PA, the smell of disinfectant and the crisp white linoleum filling your senses. Around you are posters of baby diet, stages of pregnancy chart and an advertisement promoting breastfeeding, among many. Beside you are a young woman about your age probably in her sixth month of pregnancy, murmuring softly with a man who is most likely her husband, and an older woman--probably in her late 30s--her husband playing with their toddler.
And then there is you. Instead of the father, Akari sits beside you, more fidgety than you are, her hand clenching yours, saying “we’re going to be okay” for the 20th time after you called her three hours ago.
“(Full Name)-san,” a nurse comes out of an exam room. Akari stands up first, and the nurse seems hesitant when he sees you both. “Uh, which one of you is (Full Name)-san?”
You get up slowly. “It’s me. She’s just accompanying me," you answer, feigning a smile. “Let’s go, Akari-chan.”
During the morning commute the next day, you keep rewinding yesterday's OB/GYN visit. You have been for the rest of the weekend because the clock keeps ticking and you still haven't made any decision yet.
The baby is eight weeks old and is perfectly healthy, and the due date is April 25th next year. You have around six weeks to decide whether or not you will abort the baby before it gets too risky. The OB/GYN also told you the possibilities of adoption.
Akari slept through the train ride home afterward the visit, seemingly way more stressed and exhausted than you are. You take a mental note to treat her something once you've settled with an option.
You’re lucky today’s commute is slightly less packed than usual because you’re not sure if you’re already entitled to the priority seat. As you disembark from the train and begin walking to your office, you begin to think about your options for the nth time since last weekend.
The first option is that you may put the baby for adoption, but having lost a parent yourself, it hurts to think that the baby will grow up never knowing you--or Kuroo. The second option is you may keep the baby, but you’re still 24 years old--you’re still pretty much on the entry-level of your career, and you haven’t counted the exact money you’ll need to raise a child. All you know is that it’s not going to be cheap.
The third and most plausible option is to have an abortion--but even just thinking about it makes you shudder. The risk of complications scares you, and you don’t know if you’re mentally capable to live with the fact that you terminated a life that you and Kuroo made--albeit unknowingly--together. You’re not as brave as the women who chose to take this option.
Then you remember that there is still one possible option, one that Akari suggested but you refused to explore. But you shake off the thought, thinking how silly it is. Is it even possible? Does he even want to talk to you? You think you know Kuroo pretty well, but apparently you don’t.
Still, you should somehow tell him about this, no matter how hard it is for you just to say Hi to his LINE.
“…-senpai! Hey! (Last Name)-san! Long time no see!”
You break from your reverie when you realize someone has been calling you as you absentmindedly tap your ID card to enter the office lobby. You turn around to see a familiar two-metered, gray-haired man: Haiba Lev, with his crisp white shirt, waves enthusiastically at you.
“Hi, Lev,” you greet him. “Are you here for a photoshoot?”
It’s a weird combination, a junior in product research and development at a prominent cosmetics company, to meet Lev, who is an up-and-coming model after he followed his sister Alisa’s path soon after he graduated college. You never met him in high school, since you moved before he enrolled, but you kept your promise from the past to Nekoma’s game in the Spring Interhigh of 2012 where Kuroo introduced you to the first-years, including Lev. He keeps calling you senpai despite you never being his senior, and because you were the team’s former manager and Kuroo’s girlfriend, you were always invited to their frequent reunions. They hold it once every month, and since you haven’t heard anything from them since your breakup, they probably had one last month and you were obviously not invited.
Kuroo probably has told them all.
“No, not yet. I’m here with my agency to sign the contracts,” he says, pointing at a middle-aged woman in a suit sitting in the office lobby. “It’s my first big printed ad gig, so I’m nervous.”
“You’ll do fine, Lev. It’s a product I developed, after all,” you smile at him.
“Really? Did you make those expensive skincare products? Senpai, you really are something else.” He whistles
“Not by myself, of course, but yeah, I had my part on it.”
But then the goddamn nausea kicks in, your insides churning, and you begin to gag. You have taken the vitamin prescribed to you and keep yourself hydrated, so why now?
“Senpai, are you okay?” Lev panics, seeing you crouching and fumbling as you try to reach the nearest restroom.
Please, Kamisama, don't let this dude find out. The last thing I want is for Kuroo to hear about this from someone else.
“Yes, I’m okay,” you reply, but you’re literally breaking into cold sweat not to fool him. “I just--need to throw up--”
“Senpai, let me help you!”
“No, Lev, I’m okay!" You gag. "Seriously!"
But Lev already decides that it's his business. You sigh internally as he tries to help you go to the nearest restroom. You close your eyes, silently praying that this is not the start of some ridiculous catastrophe, because you really don’t want to make anyone aside from Akari know about this yet--especially someone from Nekoma.
Especially if it's not Kuroo.
When you're out from the restroom, still sweating and panting a little, Lev is waiting outside with a bottle of mineral water. “You really had me worried,” he says, offering it to you. Clutching the handkerchief you use to wipe your sweat, you accept his offer with a small thanks as you lean on the wall.
“I’m fine,” you say, rubbing your lower belly unconsciously. “No big deal. Don’t you need to be inside?”
“The meeting can wait for a little,” Lev raises his eyebrow, looking at you suspiciously. “Are you sick, senpai? You had a bad breakfast or something?"
You are not good at lying, even to someone simple-minded like Lev. But you won't straight up announce to him that you're eight weeks pregnant as well. "No and no," you reply, huffing.
"You need to go home?"
"No, I'm fine,"
"You need me to call Kuroo-sa--"
"No!" You hurriedly say, your voice breaking a little.
"Okay," Lev's gaze still locked to you, before his jaw drops. "Oh. Oooh. So you're not sick sick, and you're still working as usual. Does this occur pretty often?"
You rub your temple, trying to find the last bits of your energy to stay composed. "Lev, why don't you go back to your agent--"
"You're not pregnant aren't you, senpai?"
Bingo.
You can't tell him. But you can't lie, either. So when you're not denying nor admitting anything, your face must be screaming the truth because Lev tugs his mouth upward, his expression smug for guessing things out. “Whoa. Whoa. Congratulations, senpai!"
"Uh, yeah, thanks," you say, chuckling nervously.
“Is everything okay?” he asks. "You look pretty stressed. I mean, I know it must be hard, being pregnant while working and living alone."
“Not really. Um. It’s because of… you know, our current situation,” you tell him. “And I’m still calculating the options.”
When Lev doesn’t immediately respond, you gaze at him, and he looks at you, his green eyes widen. “Oooh, I see, I see,” he nods. You wonder if he truly gets what you mean, and then he gives you a sympathetic smile. “I hope you can find the solution for this, (Last Name)-senpai.”
“Thanks, Lev,” you gently pat his shoulder. “I’ll be so glad if you don’t tell anyone else about this, though.”
“You have my words,” he grins. “I gotta go. Take care, (Last Name)-senpai. And congrats once again."
You return the smile. And once he’s gone from your view, you can't help but feeling sorry that you treated Lev in a dismissive manner. Even when he seems oblivious about it, you still wish you can talk casually instead of him watching you trying to puke the miso soup you ate this morning.
Oh, well.
As you try to stand straight and go back to your office, you remember your discussion with Akari the other day. The fourth and the final option is, as Akari said it, is to get back with Kuroo, marry him, and raise your child together with him. You don't know if it's even possible anymore.
Your stomach begins to tighten again, the rest of your remaining breakfast--if you even still have anything left--roils inside. You turn yourself around, rushing back inside the restroom to throw up some more.
(The practice match was hella fun. Karasuno was a very interesting team, especially the Freak Combo between that ever-glaring Setter and tangerine Shrimp, and he’d love to have some more games with them… but he was running out of time.
He kept checking on the gym’s clock. They’d gotten closer and closer to the departure time, but both teams didn’t seem to falter yet, and--
“One more!” the Shrimp shrieked.
“Hold it right there!” The yankee-looking coach scolded. “Enough is enough! And besides, they have a train to catch.”
Nekomata-sensei laughed at the Shrimp’s antics. “If you want to play us again, it’ll have to be in a tournament on a national stage, in front of a huge crowd, under bright lights on a big court... in a giant gymnasium filled with swirling emotion,” he chuckled. “It’ll be the greatest ‘Battle of the Trash Heap’ that anyone has ever seen. Let’s play again there.”
“Yes, sir!” shouted the team.
Finally.
Only after both teams said their goodbyes could he breathe easy. Nekoma Team arrived at Sendai Station around two hours before the departure time. He could eat dinner in the bullet train, and now he must think of an excuse to go--
“Kuroo, you okay?” Kenma asked you, eyes locked to his PSP. Sometimes Kuroo wondered if Kenma hid a third eye on the back of his pudding head.
“Yeah, yeah. ‘M fine.”
Kenma didn’t buy it, of course. He had known Kuroo for too long not to catch the lie in his tone.
“I’ve the checked Google Maps. (Name)’s house is around 15 minutes train ride from this station plus 5 minutes walking, and the next train should come in five minutes,” he muttered casually. “I think you can make it in time.”
“Really? You think so?” Kuroo’s eyes widened--and then he realized that Kenma knew all along. “Wait, no--I’m not saying I'm going to her house--”
“Kuroo, you might’ve successfully lied to me that Setter doesn’t move around too much, but you can never lie when it involves (Name),” Kenma deadpanned.
Kuroo felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked behind, and Yaku was looking at him with a mocking slash sympathizing expression. “Y'know, we really want to see (Last Name) too, but you probably miss her the most,” he grinned. “So just go. We’ll think up an excuse.”
Yaku was literally the last person that Kuroo would want to owe one from, but beggars can't be choosers.
“Thanks, guys.”
“I'll call to remind you, I guess.” Said Kenma, still focused with his games.
So Kuroo nodded and went away, looking up the route that would lead to Miyagino, where you lived.
It was a short train ride, but it still felt like forever, and goddammit he didn’t even bring anything from Tokyo. But he kept running as if he didn't just play three volleyball games.
You did leave the team your new address, and luckily for him finding your mansion wasn’t hard despite this being the first time he ever came to Sendai--thank Gods for the GPS, really. Kuroo arrived in front of a brown-tiled four-level apartment block--running made his trip shorter by three minutes. Unwilling to waste another time, he pulled out his phone from his jacket’s inner pocket, and he searched for a number--the number who was always first in his call log--before he pressed the call button.
“Hello?” you picked his call after the second ring.
“Hi,” Kuroo greeted, panting. “Are you home?”
“I am,” you answered. “Why? Why do you sound like you just jogged a hundred miles?”
“Not for a hundred miles, but I did just run. I’m in a race with time,” he chuckled. “Can you come outside?”
“Why?” you repeated your question, sounding wary. He’d teased you too many times not to be suspicious, after all.
“Just come. Please. And don’t hang up.”
“If this is another prank of yours, I swear to God--”
Kuroo leaned on the tree in front of your mansion, still trying to catch his breath. And when you didn’t finish your sentence, he finally saw you. You were there, walking outside the elevator. Your (hair color) was as pretty as always, tied in a neat ponytail. When your eyes met with his, He didn’t realize how much he’d been missing you.
It was just a few months, and even though he called you almost every day, it still felt like forever since the last time he saw you.
“Kuroo?” you said, a voice just above a whisper before you let your arm fall to your side, hanging up the call.
“Hi,” he said lamely, putting his phone back and standing up straight. “Surprise?”
“Wh--what are you doing here?”
"I told you yesterday that we're gonna have a practice match, right?" he said, scratching the back of his head nervously. "Well, we just had one."
"In Sendai? "
"No, not Sendai. A small town with no train station, 40 minutes bus ride from here," he smirked. "Does it ring a bell?"
Your face looked even more flabbergasted with the realization. "You had a practice match with Karasuno?!” You put both hands on your hips. “Why didn't you tell me about it? I could come and watch, you know!"
"I don't know if Karasuno allows uninvited guests, though. Nekoma surely don’t,” he grinned, approaching you. “Sorry. I didn’t tell you because I'm not sure if you’ll be allowed inside, and I really can’t promise you to meet after the practice match because we don’t know when it’s gonna end, but I really want to see you… so my only option is to surprise you.”
“I am sure surprised.” You blinked, still bemused.
“Do you… hate it?”
“What? No!” You walked closer to him. “I’m--I’m happy, Kuroo! Really. Thank you for taking the time to see me.” You ripped your gaze away from him, and so did he. You were both silent for a while, with him especially embarrassed with his nerves.
“I didn’t bring anything from Tokyo, though,” he muttered.
“What are you, my aunt? I don’t need any Tokyo omiyage , you know!” you giggled, face finally softening up. “Just seeing you is enough… maybe.”
“‘Maybe’? What’s that even mean?” he rolled his eyes. “Well, I wish I could bring the whole team with me, but since we don’t have a lot of time--the crows asked us to play three games, imagine--I had to slip away from Nekomata-sensei and Naoi-sensei because they surely won’t let me go.”
“Wait, wait,” you raised your hands. “When are you going back?”
“A little more than an hour, maybe? I don’t know. Kenma will call me.” He shrugged.
“Kuroo, acting impulsive and irresponsible? This is so unlike you. Are you feverish or something?”
“Well… I do tend to act out of character when I’m around you.”
You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The evening wind blew, and before he knew it, he already walked up to you, trying to close the distance between you both.
“What I mean is,” he said, his hands touching your shoulders, “I--”
And then, the loud ringtone of his dissolved the spell that he was under. Both of you jolted and took steps backward, pulling his phone out of his jacket angrily. Goddammit, he thought. I was so close!
“Yes, Kenma?”
“All of us have finished eating and Naoi-sensei expects us to go back to the meeting point in 10 minutes.”
“Dammit. Sorry--” he waved his hand at you, who looked completely flustered. “If I didn’t arrive in 10 minutes, tell Naoi-sensei that I’m having an upset stomach. I’m running back to the station now, thanks. Yeah. Bye.”
“What was it?” you asked, seemingly only able to let out a voice above a whisper.
“I might have to go back soon,” he sighed. Now that the mood was ruined, down were all the words he had meant to tell you. “So… yeah. Are you coming to Tokyo this summer?”
You shrugged, still unable to look at his eyes. “Gotta ask my mom about it first.”
“See you later, then.” He waved, even though you weren’t exactly looking at him. He was hesitant to leave things this way, but he fucked this up, so it was a given. He was ready to turn around and think up with another plan to see you when he felt your hand pulling his upper arm, and as he fumbled, trying to balance himself from that sudden pull, you tiptoed. With your other hand reaching his face, you kissed his cheek.
Kuroo felt warm, and it wasn't because of the run.
“I like you, Kuroo.” You whispered.
So this is how it feels, he thought. People said that having someone you like to return your feelings would feel like walking on a cloud. Kuroo had never walked on one before, but for him it felt greater than the day Kenma agreed to play volleyball with him, more satisfying than the day he ranked in the top three for the final exam, more victorious than last Summer Training Camp where he beat Bokuto for the first time. Hell, it probably felt so, so much better than getting to the Nationals--something he was itching to gain for the past three years.
You let go of his face, smiling shyly. Kuroo could see your cheeks slightly more pink than it usually would, and even though he knew you have always been pretty, today you were especially beautiful.
He grinned, perhaps a little too wide than usual. But he was too happy to care. “I like you too, (Name).”
You smiled back at him. He really wanted the moment to last forever, but when his phone rang again he knew he had to be patient. “Go, Kuroo,” you laughed, lightly pushing his back to go. “Text me as soon as you get back, okay?”
He nodded and started to jog back, waving to you enthusiastically until you disappeared from his view.
That night, as soon as he arrived home, he sent you a text as promised, followed with:
Does it mean we’re going out now?
After he braced himself to press send, he kept checking his phone anxiously even though it was almost midnight. Then you sent him a reply, a short one, but enough to made him grin with butterflies in his stomach:
Yes.)