Tourette's || KuroKen

chapter 23 - how do plants live?

When plants die, they can either come back the next year or they are completely gone, turned into a crumbly dust. They can be grown for their looks or to produce certain stuff to eat, to ingest. The sun gives them life and food, water helps them flourish. But in the case of them, water only drowns them and the sun burns their skin. How could anyone live like a plant?

When the time past after his death, it was hard for the family to breath correctly. Misaki had kept at her job, she cleaned the house often to forget the mourning she wanted to do. She stayed strong. Kuroo had struggled, his will to do anything, even move out of bed was demolished. He had stopped doing his school work that waited patiently on his laptop that has not been charged in weeks. He just slept.

Kenma had felt overrun from everything. He felt flattened, laid out on hot cement in the middle of June. Just to baked, cooked until thin, then flipped to crisp the other side. He tried, put all his energy to help Kuroo get out of bed and take a bite of food. Every time an attack occurred he rushed to help Kuroo, get water and anything he might need. Even if it costed to be thrown up on or pushed to the side.

He felt used, but wanted to help.

Two months had gone by by this point. Nothing had been done for coping, nothing was found to cope with. It was just a lonely house with dead plants surrounding them.

The only change was that Kuroo wanted Kenma to call him by his first name. He had said being called by his last name reminded him of his father too much. So Kenma has been referring to Kuroo as 'Tetsurōu'. Not shortened, as that would remind him of his father as well, just simply: 'Tetsurōu.'

-

Kenma looked into the bathroom mirror, looking at the sunken eye bags weighing his face down. They were soft and squishy, feeling the thin skin, pushing down to feel the hardness of his skull. His hair was long at this point, a bit past his shoulders. Half was a bright bleached blonde, while the top part was a dark chocolate brown. He sighed and let the damaged hair flow through his fingers.

"Definitely should re-dye it.." He mumbled, "Thanks for the tip mom." Rolling his eyes.

Kenma indeed has gotten over his mother's death. He couldn't cry over the inconvenience he had a year ago, he felt the need to be mature at this point. His only thought be that his mother would not want him wasting time on her.

Kenma inched his hands off the sink counter and walked out the bathroom. He headed to the kitchen and pulled out some scissors.

"How should I do this," Kenma raised his eyebrows and inched the scissors to his hair.

A loud voice came from the hallway, "What the hell?"

Kenma looked up in a rushed, but kept the scissors about to chop off a chunk of his hair.

"Oh, hey Misaki." Kenma said in a monotone voice, not phased one bit.

"Kenma what are you doing?" Misaki walked into the kitchen. "You're gonna ruin your hair."

Kenma rolled his eyes and set the scissors down on the counter, "Please, I've done this before. And it didn't look half bad."

Misaki hung her mouth open a bit, she sighed and walked to the side of the counter Kenma was on and took the scissors. "At least let me do it."

Kenma stood there quietly, he couldn't say no.

Slowly Misaki took his hair and spread it out on his back. Taking the scissors, she cut two inches off, which was now above his shoulders. Kenma felt more light once the hair was chopped off. Only a small bit of bleached hair was still left. He felt lukewarm air flow against his neck again, making him shiver.