breaking and entering (yandere! Kuroo x fem reader)

23 || faber

homo faber fortunae suae

Ayano carefully turned the cold knob of her son's door. She quietly pushed the door open, her fingertips just barely pressing against the wood; the smell struck her quickly, overthrowing her senses: a warm, metallic fetor enveloped her fragile figure, causing her to take a few steps back, away from the messy room.

Empty bottle pills laid on the spotted floor, a couple of fugitive pills hiding between the clothes scattered messily on the ground. The trembling woman held her nose and persisted through the door and into the suffocating room, determined to do something.

The sight of her almost lifeless son terrorized her. Kuroo was crawled up under the covers, not a single muscle moving. He stared at an indefinite point on the empty wall in front of him.
Following his gaze, Ayano's eyes fell back on the ground, meeting a pile of torn glossy paper. She didn't have the courage to investigate further, but it was obvious that those were pictures, that in some state of inexplicable fury her son had scraped off the walls.

Holding back tears, the little woman approached the curtains, her heels knocking coldly on the wooden floor, disrupting the surreal silence that had reigned in their house for a couple of weeks now. She pulled violently at one of the curtains, causing a sprinkle of translucent dust to swirl in the air.

Ayano checked for a reaction from her son, but he was awfully quiet. She frowned painfully, her eyes burning slightly: she blamed it on the dust, but deep down she was in atrocious pain. Little Tooru was not well, but once again, she didn't know how to behave. Ayano knew she had failed him, but it was too late to fix the deep cracks of the fragile relationship with her son. She just had to live with the guilt, dilute it in alcohol, swallow it down with tranquilizers - mending her own wounds was the only way to live with the guilt.

Kuroo grunted. His voice barely resurfaced from under the phlegm in his throat, so he strained the growl to be heard. "Close them."

Ayano felt as if a helpline had been thrown at her, at last. Maybe there was a way to get to his heart, pull him out of that deadlike state.
"Sure, baby. Do you want anything else? Water? Why don't I help you take a shower?"
The words just rolled off the tip of her tongue, quick and breathless, and full of hope.

She waited. Ayano closed the curtains, and then took a few steps closer to her son's bed.
Her hand hovered above his covered shoulder, uncertain of the direction it was allowed to take.

"Go."

His voice cracked right in the middle of those two letters, but the message was still clear.
Ayano nodded obediently, slowly retreating her hand back to her side, and she walked away.

She stood at the door for a minute, her hand on the knob. Frozen in the threshold's twilight, she finally stopped fighting the tears back, and let them flow on her milky cheeks.

"Okay."

Crows gracefully skipped on the dark and dry tree branches outside, croaking gloomily as they did so. The sun just barely peeked from over the heavy clouds, glimmers of light however managing to find a way through the grey sky. A ray of sun casted its gleam right on your desk, enough to highlight the scribbles you had taken over the course of the lesson.
Focusing on school had become hard. Your mind was relentlessly running from one thought to the other, analyzing and overthinking, re-running through the events of the past few months.

But you liked to deflect your attention to the magical night you'd had with Iwaizumi just a week ago. Ever since he'd left, nothing made sense, and everything had faded into a dreary routine that you refused to fall into.