Broken Memories (BokuAkaKuroKen)

21

Kenma continued crying on the road in front of the truck that held two of his lovers. He didn't register the sound of them rushing out of the truck. The two ran and crouched down next to Kenma. Neither of them minded the snow seeping into their pants, freezing their knees.

With a slight hesitation, they both placed a hand on Kenmas back. They didn't want to startle him. Kuroo and Bokuto each shared a worried glance with each other. They both stayed silent, not even sure what to say. It just happened suddenly. They weren't sure what was going through his head at the moment. Both of the boys were unsure what the younger one needed.

They stayed on the road until the pained sobs had reduced to simple sniffles. Bokuto's hand found its way to Kenmas chin, gently encouraging the boy to look up at them. His eyes were bloodshot from all the tears, while his cheeks and nose shone red from the cold weather. Kuroo gently wiped away his stray tears.

"I-I'm sorry," Kenma said in a volume no louder than a whisper.

"It's ok honey, sometimes we all need a good cry." Bokuto responded. Kuroo placed a soft kiss on Kenmas head.

"How about we get back in the car. Let you warm up a bit." Kenma nodded to Kuroos suggestion. Kuroo and Bokuto stood up and helped Kenma, who was still shaking. They got in the truck, and Kenma tucked himself onto Bokuto's lap. To which the older boy was perfectly content with.

Bokuto brushed back the hair in Kenmas face and placed a soft peck on his temple. Kenma was visibly tired. After crying and the warmth now drawing him in, he was easily lured to sleep. Kuroo rubbed soft circles into his leg while Bokuto played with the damp strands of hair. Everything was alright. Even though the older two didn't understand the situation, they knew they would be there for the younger one no matter what.

Everything was quiet other than the buzzing of the heater. Bokuto and Kuroo didn't want the younger to wake up after he had just fallen asleep. He seemed to need the rest. The silence was broken by the sound of the car door opening. The older two looked to see Akaashi climbing into the back.

Akaashi visibly relaxed when he saw that Kenma had come to join them in the car. He wasn't sure what had happened or where he had gone. The best option was to hope he had joined the older two, and thankfully that was exactly what had happened. Akaashi leaned forward so he could see the damp half blond boy and his flush face. "Is he ok?" Akaashi quietly asked.

Kuroo intertwined his and Akaashis fingers. "Well, he ran out and collapsed on the ground crying his eyes out. So if I had to guess no."

"He'll be ok though." Bokuto chimed in. All of his attention was on the boy that was sleeping in his arms.

Akaashi seemed hesitant at first but ultimately agreed with them.

...

When they returned to the hotel, Kuroo carried Kenma into their room. He continuously placed kisses onto Kenmas forehead while running his fingers through the younger long soft hair.

Akaashi had managed to get everything dealt with at the gallery. They would pick the paintings up in the morning. After, they would make their way back home.

Kuroo placed his small boyfriend down on their bed. Kenma wasn't asleep for long. Just a little over an hour, his eyes slowly opened. His eyes were slightly uncomfortable from the tears drying on his closed eyes. He rubbed his eyes and sat up in his lonely bed.

The weight on his chest was slightly less than what it once was, but the pain was there nonetheless. Every movement on his body felt heavy. His legs dragged out of the bed and fell to the ground. Everything just felt dull. Kenma didn't feel right. The world around him felt empty once again.

While sitting up, he caught a glimpse at the small paint set that Bokuto and Akaashi had gifted him. It was a lure to encourage him to be home more often. It ended up working, and he now kept it wherever he went. They originally had gotten him one small tray of paints. It had the primary colors plus a few other extra colors. It was simple, but Kenma appreciated it. When they realized Kenma liked it Kuroo bought him three other paint trays. Kenma couldn't even begin to express how thankful he was for their gifts.

Kenma walked over to the paints and book of watercolor paper. He sat contemplating his next decision. After minutes of looking down at the supplies, he grabbed the supplies out of his bag. Rushing to get outside.

When he walked out of the room, he almost completely ignored his boyfriends. "Are you feeling ok?" If Akaashi hadn't said something, he would have simply walked out the front door. Words didn't want to escape his throat. He nodded to Akaashi's question, still making his way towards the exit.

Kuroo walked and looked at Kenma, who was sitting down and shoving his shoes onto his feet. He leaned against the hall and crossed his arms, "Where ya going?" Kuroo asked.

"Walk," Kenma said, not even bothering to look back. Kuroo nodded his head even though the other couldn't see it.

"Want us to go with?" Kuroo asked. Kenma shook his head and made his way out the door.

The snow was no longer falling. Instead, there was a thin layer of white that spread across everything. Kenma didn't mind the feeling. Sure he didn't like the cold but, he wasn't bothered by how it looked. Nature itself was an art form, and he had to respect that.

Kenma walked and walked until he came upon a spot he felt was right. They weren't in the countryside, but there was more open land here than back where his gallery was. The location overlooked a few homes but had a good view of the sun that was about to set. Kenma sat down on a bench and pulled out the paints.

Carefully he poured the water he had into a small cup and placed it beside him on the bench. He got the paint and sketchbook out as well and placed everything in an easily accessible location. Then he pulled out his phone. He set a timer and quietly whispered to himself "Thirty minutes. Capture the best scene." A sad smile crept on his lips as the words naturally came out.

Kenma began the timer and got started on his painting. With every brushstroke, the tears effortlessly fell from his eyes. Memories resurfaced again, but this time around they didn't feel suffocating. A few caused a small laugh to escape or a smile to slightly show. Others he needed to bite his lip from having tears completely block his vision. The memories hurt, they really did, but he attempted to not run away from them.

The timer went off. Kenma set the brush down and took a second to admire his painting. It was small and slightly rushed, but he didn't mind. The exercise was created to encourage his parents to continue working, and find new inspiration in everything. That meant the quality of the art meant close to nothing.

Kenma dated the piece and added a short note of his location so he would never forget it. He packed up his things and made his way back to the room. From the moment he left, things had been silent. Loneliness crept its way into his heart. The feeling of returning to an empty home hurt.

When he opened the door, he wasn't met with silence. There was no cold emptiness that he had once grown so used to. Instead, he was greeted by laughs and warm lights.

Kenma slipped his shoes off and dropped his supplies by the door. He walked into the living area and saw the three people that now gave warmth to his once cold life. He smiled at them. Everything felt alright. "I'm home"

Kenma remembered he was no longer alone.