The Galaxy Is Endless ( I thought we were, too.)

Part 20

{ A song has been linked above to make thing's much worse for yourself (: }

Kenma had given up sitting in the small plastic chair beside Kuroo's bed, instead opting to sit in the bed with him, pressing their bodies against each other. While he had to be careful not to bump or crush any tubes, it was worth it. He could be closer to Kuroo this way. Plus, he could warm him up. Kuroo was prone to getting much colder these days. It was a win for the both of them.

Kenma softly hummed as he answered emails for work. They felt endless, but they did take his mind to a different place for a little, in that light, they weren't too bad.

"Can you believe that someone brought up that we should make a sportswear line the other day?" Kenma asked. Kuroo had said a few months back that he found it calming when Kenma spoke to him, and Kenma had done his best to cater to that. Kuroo didn't have the energy to reply on most days, but that wasn't going to stop Kenma from telling him anyway.

He couldn't pinpoint the moment that their roles had reversed in this way. Usually it was Kuroo who had filled up silences with mindless babble or laughter. Silence felt too alien to Kenma to accept.

"Yeah, so, sportswear. For a video game company. All because we sponsor Shouyou. Weird, right?" Kenma mindlessly clicked on the next email. "I said that while it wasn't a priority, we could think about it in the future."

Kenma's employees had done their best to accommodate for his current situation, something Kenma hadn't expected. They'd taken it upon themselves to come up with a whole range of new ideas and concepts, polishing them so Kenma didn't have to. They didn't even mind that he was barely present at the office (though a few of them had caught him sleeping on his desk when he had been there).

Kenma had spent more time in the hospital and at the office than he had at home. The antibacterial smell and fluorescent lights becoming a familiar comfort. He didn't think he could bear walking into a Kuroo-less apartment, so he didn't even try.

Besides, wherever Kuroo was, that was his home.

Kenma turned his head to look down at Kuroo. His eyes were open - a sign he was having a good day.

That said, good days didn't come so often any more. Kuroo's skin had a grey colour to it now, accentuated by his hollow cheeks and deep circles under his eyes. Kenma often found himself watching the soft rise and fall of his chest, a reminder that he was still here; still breathing. There wasn't anything that brought him nearly as much comfort.

Kenma lifted a hand to softly stoke Kuroo's cheek. "Hey, gorgeous."

Kuroo blinked in response, the ghost of a smile tracing his lips. Seeing that made Kenma smile, too. He had learned to be more liberal with his affection in the last few months, willing to do anything to see Kuroo smile.

He leant down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. Despite the circumstances, he was just as in love as he'd been before this; he made sure that Kuroo knew this.

"Hey," Kuroo's voice was quiet; so quiet that Kenma wasn't even sure he'd heard it. A sheen of tears instantly covered Kenma's eyes. He'd missed that voice more than he thought. "Can I-" Kuroo stuttered, stopping to catch his breath.

Kenma reached down to grab his hand. "It's okay, take your time."

A few moments passed again before Kuroo had the strength to begin again. "Can I tell you something?"

He gave Kuroo's hand a firm squeeze. "Of course."

"I left something for you," Kuroo started, his speech slurred in a way that sounded as though he was trying to speak underwater. Kenma understood anyway. "Back at the apartment."

Kenma furrowed his brows. He hadn't been back to their apartment in a little while, but he thought he would have noticed something Kuroo would have left him.

"What is it?"

Kuroo hummed. "When you're ready, then you can see for yourself."

Kenma wasn't sure that he liked what that implied. But he trusted Kuroo enough not to question it.

When he was ready. As though there was a universe where he could be ready for what was inevitably going to happen. He wasn't sure if he'd even accepted it yet.

For as long as Kuroo didn't say those words, there was still a chance, right?

"Where'd you leave it?" Kenma's voice was barely a whisper, matching Kuroo's volume.

Kuroo attempted to laugh, but the act caused his face to distort into a grimace of pain. Kenma instantly threaded his hands in his hair, attempting to soothe him through it. He had been quick to learn that there wasn't much he could do to ease any of Kuroo's physical pain, but he did find comfort in Kenma's touch, and that was enough for Kenma to commit to it. "Shh, it's okay," Kenma cooed, nimble hands stroking Kuroo's hair.

If Kenma from two years ago had known how affectionate he'd become, he wouldn't have believed it.

It was strange how situations such as these changed people.

Within a few minutes, Kuroo had control of his breathing again, his face smoothing out back to its still, statue-like features.

"Sorry-"

"There's nothing to apologise for," Kenma chided, cutting him off. This was the first time in a long time he'd talked over him, but the words needed to be said. He wasn't about to allow Kuroo to think it was okay to feel guilt over this situation. "You're perfect."

He meant it.

"What was I saying?"

Kenma gently pushed the hair out of Kuroo's face, lost in his own thoughts. Ito had told him all those months ago that memory loss and mental fogginess were some of the final signs of ALS. Kuroo had been forgetting things recently, but Kenma didn't want to dwell on that; didn't want to dwell on what that insinuated.

"You were telling me where the thing you left me in the apartment was," he said, continuing to play with Kuroo's hair in-between his fingers.

"Oh, yeah. You know that shelf in our wardrobe that you're too short to reach?" There was a jovial lilt to Kuroo's voice that Kenma hadn't thought he'd ever hear again; so much so that he barely paid heed to the dig at his height that Kuroo had found oh so amusing.

He really was the same old Kuroo, down to his core.

"I know the one. It's there?"

Kuroo shifted his head in a slight nod. Kenma leant over to press another gentle kiss to Kuroo's jaw. "Thank you, baby."

Maybe a day would come where Kenma thought he'd be ready to know what it was.