no refunds! || kuroken

new year's

It's a Thursday evening when Kenma finds himself thinking.

New Year's Day was tomorrow, and Kenma didn't really plan on doing anything except for staying home and spending the new few days with his family, until it was time to go back home.

These past three weeks have been very good to him, despite all of the worries and nerves that had grown vines over his conscience on the way up here, green hands threatening as they wrapped around his throat. Kuroo proved to be a really good pretend-partner, and despite not wanting to do something like this ever again, he decided that he wouldn't mind so much if it was with Kuroo.

He hoped to hang out with Kuroo still, even after this.

He remembers his ad, and how he still had it up, wondering if Kuroo had gotten any more callers to take him up on his offer. He wonders what he told them if they had called and asked, if he spoke about him to random strangers to tell them he was busy right now, as if they were together.

There was a strange feeling in his chest at the thought of Kuroo talking to other people like he'd talked to him the first time they met.

He quickly lets the thought die as soon as it sprouted.

His family had been waiting for tomorrow, sat in the living room, and watching the festival on live television. He listened to the light taps of the silver ring around his finger against his glass of alcohol, trying to tie his thoughts together once they spilled out against the kitchen counter, jumbled and messy.

"Other half? Are you alright?"

Kenma pulls himself back into his environment, his family's voices pooling into his head from where they were. He blinks as Kuroo leans against the island across from him, tilting his head as Kenma sighs.

Ready to listen, like always.

Kenma lets his eyes fall to his hand, seeing the ring still on his finger as he holds his own glass. It hadn't miraculously fit, like he'd hoped it would, either. He was wearing a red button-down, similar to the one at the diner, and while Kenma insisted that he didn't need to get dressed up, he claimed he wanted to keep up the good impressions so far.

Kenma rolled his eyes at him, and helped Kuroo button it together, anyway.

"Yes. I'm thinking of tomorrow." Kenma says, taking a sip from his glass, just to have something to do.

"We're going to the shrine, right?"

Kenma nods, and looks out the window, the air conditioning blowing stray strands of hair onto his lips, tickling his chin.

His nose scrunches at the tickling sensation and Kuroo smiles into his glass of alcohol.

He reaches up to lightly take it out of his face, and Kenma almost gags as a few butterflies flit up to his throat, feels sick at the want to stay here with him, rather than his usual bout of trying to get away from him. Kuroo's autumn eyes float over his face once, seeing that Kenma was okay, just as he said he was, and there wasn't a need to worry.

He could tell he was thinking about something other than tomorrow, but Kuroo never pried if Kenma didn't tell him.

"There are about six minutes to midnight. Got anything you want to wish for?" Kuroo asks, his voice like black velvet as he finishes the alcohol in his glass, setting it on the counter behind him.

"Maybe." Kenma smiles, looking down at his own glass, anxiety streaming through his veins at the thought of Kuroo.

He liked to wish upon those same shooting stars that liked to stream behind Kuroo's eyes, and blow out hope in the dandelions that were housed in his chest as he stood in warm rain.