blind date | kenma kozume

# six

#6 | TALK IT OUT

The tension in the car was suffocating as you settled into the passenger seat, your anxiety gnawing at you with every passing second. This was it—the moment you'd been dreading, the moment you couldn't even bring yourself to tell Rin about. You'd spent the entire day with Kenma and Natsu, pretending everything was fine, but the knowledge that you and Kenma had unfinished business loomed over you like a dark cloud. The silence between you two was heavy, thick with all the unspoken words and unresolved issues that had built up over the years.

Kenma started the car, his movements precise, almost mechanical, as if he was using the task to distract himself from the weight of what was coming. The low hum of the engine filled the car, but it did nothing to drown out the thoughts racing through your mind. You glanced over at him, trying to read his expression, but his face was a mask of concentration, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. The streetlights cast long, flickering shadows across his features, making it hard to tell what he was thinking. You felt like you were on the edge of a cliff, one wrong move away from falling into a pit of old, festering wounds.

"So..." you began, your voice barely above a whisper, hoping to break the tension before it crushed you. You needed him to say something, anything, to let you know where his head was at.

Kenma's hands tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. His voice, when he finally spoke, was low and edged with something sharp, something accusatory. "Why are you suddenly being so nice to me? I mean, we've been at each other's throats for years, and now you just decide to change your mind? What's going on?"

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, but you forced yourself to stay calm. You had expected this—had known he would question your sudden shift in behavior—but it didn't make it any easier to face. "It's not like that, Kenma," you replied, trying to sound more confident than you felt. "It's just... it's complicated."

"Complicated?" Kenma finally tore his gaze away from the road to look at you, his eyes sharp and full of unspoken hurt. "You've hated me since we were kids, Y/n. You never even gave me a chance to explain."

Your stomach twisted at the bitterness in his voice. "What was there to explain? You were the only one who knew about my dad, Kenma. The only one. And then suddenly, everyone at school knew, and they were saying... saying such awful things about him. About me."

Kenma's eyes narrowed, confusion flickering across his face. "And you thought I was the one who told them?"

"Who else could it have been?" you snapped, the pain of that memory still raw and festering. "You were the only person I trusted. You were my best friend, and then you—"

"I didn't tell anyone!" Kenma's voice rose, louder than you'd ever heard it. The usually calm and collected Kenma, who rarely showed any emotion, was practically shouting now. "Why would I do that to you, Y/n? You were my best friend too!"

The anger in his voice was so unfamiliar, so unexpected, that it threw you off balance. "Then how did everyone know?" you demanded, your own voice trembling. "You were the only one who knew, Kenma. I didn't tell anyone else because I was too scared, too insecure. And then one day, it's like the whole school knew. I couldn't even look at you after that."

Kenma's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his jaw clenched as he fought to keep his voice steady. "You never even asked me. You just assumed the worst and shut me out. Do you have any idea how that felt?"

"You were the only one I could think of!" you shouted, your voice breaking under the weight of your emotions. "I was just a kid, Kenma. My dad had just died, and I didn't know how to handle it. I was angry, and I needed someone to blame."