apocalypse

Friends

Songs: Cigarettes After Sex - Apocalypse and Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls

Three days had passed since Tetsuro was killed, and it had felt like one long nightmare, torturous and never-ending.

Kenma hadn't left Kuroo's room. He stayed in the dark all day and all night, his quiet sobs muffled by Tetsuro's pillow.

Hajime had tried to talk with him, but Kenma never responded. He only stared off, almost as though Kuroo's death was playing endless through his head. He only drank the water that Iwaizumi brought him every morning and every night. Kenma was broken and the only person who could fix him was dead.

Tooru's behavior wasn't much different. The gravity of Tetsuro's betrayal still weighed heavily on him. Neither one of them truly understood why Kuroo had done what he'd done, and Kenma was the only person who could answer any of their questions. Hajime was too afraid to ask him. He was so fragile, barely hanging on to any hope there was left. Kuroo was the light in Kenma's darkness, and now there was nothing. The darkness overtaking them all.

Akaashi was nowhere to be found most of the time. He left early in the morning before dawn and came back at ungodly hours of the night. He never said a word to any of them. The only reason Iwaizumi knew that Akaashi was even still alive was because he never slept.

Hajime couldn't remember the last time he'd truly slept well. The nightmares couldn't plague him if he never shut his eyes, and he preferred it that way. He would doze off from time to time, but it was very light, his eyes fluttering awake every few minutes.

Even though Iwaizumi never slept, he made sure Oikawa did. If Hajime wasn't there in the bed with him, Tooru had night terrors. His body would flail out, and he would scream until Hajime shook him awake. He would try to scratch himself in his sleep, opening the wounds on his fingers. Blood would stain the sheets, and Hajime always washed them, careful not to dwell on it too much.

No matter how close he was to breaking, thoughts of Bokuto and Tetsuro collapsing in on him, he held it together for Tooru and Kenma. He often cried alone, not wanting to worry either of them. He wondered what Kuroo would have done in this situation. He had been the glue holding them all together, their world falling apart without him.

Hajime brought Kenma a glass of water for the night, setting it down on the nightstand. The room still smelt like coffee and shampoo. Like Tetsuro. "Goodnight," he whispered, taking the empty glass on his way out.

"Wait, Iwaizumi," Kenma said, his voice hushed and broken.

Hajime turned back, his eyes widening at his name on Kenma's lips. "What is it?" he asked earnestly, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Can you bring Tooru in here too? I need to tell you guys about Tetsuro. I wanted to make sure you don't hate him. I'd never forgive myself..." he said, trailing off.

Hajime nodded. "Kenma, you should eat something first. This talk can wait until you feel better."

"Iwa, I'm never going to feel better. You and I both know that," he said, looking at the floor.

"That's not true."

"Please go and get Tooru. I need to speak to him," Kenma said, a look of seriousness on his face.

"Okay, then," he said, his eyes downcast. Hajime walked out into the hallway towards his room, knocking softly on the door before entering.

Tooru was where he had been that morning, eyes staring blankly in the chair by the window. His face was sunken, and his hair stood up messily around his face. The sketchbook Hajime had bought him lay open on his lap, a blank sheet of paper staring up at him.