Tamaki

It was nice to have a soulmate. An unshakeable love, the one person that understands you the best, matching soulmate marks – usually called Tamaki – and someone whose sole presence was enough to make you feel better.

Life with this person was comfortable. Relaxed. Secure.

Unfortunately, Kozume Kenma lost faith in it pretty exactly eight hours and twelve minutes ago.

~

But, actually, this story starts seven years earlier.

Back then, Kenma's parents sent the seven-year-old boy to a sports camp - much to the latter's displeasure.

Kenma neither was a fan of sports nor did he have much interest in having to deal with other children. All the more so if those had way to much energy and started to fight practically every five minutes. But Kenma's parents were convinced that a camp would be the perfect place for him to get out of his shell and make friends.

Despite their hopes though, Kenma spent most of his time sitting on the side lines, avoiding any type of social interaction. He was content with this arrangement. Even though he would have preferred, his parents hadn't taken his PSP before dropping him off at the camp.

That was until, on the third day, one of the supervisors noticed him. He ignored all of Kenma's attempts to explain, that others longed way more to play Volleyball than he did, and sent the boy straight onto the court, equipped with a jersey with a faint number printed on it.

As soon as he stepped onto the court, a dark haired boy, with the weirdest hair style Kenma had ever seen, approached him. Apparently, he had noticed that Kenma had no idea of what he was supposed to do.

While approaching Kenma, the boy pointed to a spot right in front of the net. You just have to set the ball high enough so we can hit it on the other court, he explained lightly.

Subconsciously, Kenma must have made a doubtful expression, as the boy lightly pulled on his hair to get the younger boy to look up. I'm sure you're way better than you think you are, he stated, sounding far more convinced than Kenma felt.

In some weird kind of way, he was right. It was, indeed, not as difficult to set the ball as Kenma had thought in the beginning. The attention he hence received, on the other hand, made him feel uncomfortable. Kenma hated to be the center of attention. It took him a pretty long while to convince himself that they didn't really concentrated on him but rather on the ball.

This, whatsoever, wasn't the case anymore when the ball, Kenma was supposed to set, slipped through his little, unpleasantly sweaty hands and landed right on his nose.

It turned out the ball had knocked out one of his teeth. Though, it wasn't that big of a deal given the fact that the tooth already had been loose before. Kenma had just waited for it to finally be over.

However, the moment he spit the tooth in his hand, he found himself hassled by a bunch of hysteric children. And, for Kenma's liking, the supervisors took way too long to get him out of the group and to the paramedics.

Just like this, one thing led to another, and half an hour later Kenma still lay on an uncomfortable stretcher. The only thing he could do was to rest and hold the pack of ice to his face.

By now, he had have enough time to list all the reasons needed to convince his parents to never send him to a sports camp again. And to put them in the argumentative most reasonable order. But before he could decide if it would take more energy to talk to both of his parents at once or to coax his father first, so he would do the talking for Kenma, the door opened with a silent creak.