𝚙𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚢 ~ 𝚔𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗

Saturday morning

Kuroo's POV:

I woke up early, around 7, but decided against going back to sleep.
I sat up, remembering last night. It felt like a drunken mistake while being completely sober which honestly just made it worse.

Why did I almost do that?
I like girls so why did that thought creep over me? I turned to grab my phone. Seeing a message from the girl, whose name I.... I forgot her name. There was also a message from Bokuto that asked if I wanted to go to a party tonight. Yeah, that was the last thing I needed right now. I set the phone back down on the beside table, wondering what to do.

I held my head in my hands quickly becoming more and more aware of how Kenma will expect things to be. He's going to want things to be normal. As they should be. After all, he has no explanation for what almost happened.
I got up to pee, as I continued to devise a plan. Oh! Got it! I flushed the toilet.

When I returned to Kenma's room I was surprised to see him up and more surprised to see him shirtless and removing his pajama pants. I slid back into the bathroom trying not to be heard or seen. "Kuro?" He asked, calling me by my nickname he'd appointed many years ago.
I pretended not to hear him. He sighed, "I can see your bed head sticking outside the door frame." Damnit.
I put on a smile, here goes.
"Good morning." He was finished changing by now and began making up the bed. I quickly realized he had put my sweatshirt back on.
"Kenma? Are you wearing my sweatshirt?"
He stood frozen with a pillow extended in his hands in front of him. His head slowly turned towards me,
"yes... it's comfortable."
I laughed a little and saw a small smile form across his face. He went back to fluffing the pillow before setting it against the headboard.

I started to fix my hair in his small mirror. I had to bend my knees to reach it as it was hung to Kenma's head height.

"So, about last night." I started, still focusing on my hair in the mirror.
"I was falling asleep when I realized how out of context what I did must have been for you. Because of the lighting, I couldn't really tell if you were bleeding or if it was just a strand of darker hair that had fallen in your face. I just wanted to be sure you weren't hurt. So, that's why I did, uhm, all of that... I would never attempt to kiss you or anything. I
don't like guys you know?"

"Yeah I figured something like that was the case. You're like the straightest guy I know, Kuroo."
I looked back at him, and he was typing something on his phone.

He blinked up at me, deadpan, but with his slightly turned down expression. That happened to be his normal resting face though: slightly sad looking.

Kenma turned to the window and opened the blinds. The sun was still rising and sent bright rays into his room, bouncing off the walls in a palette of warm tones. They made his hair look like an almost strawberry blond.

Kenma stood with his somewhat poor posture and watched for a moment. I went over to him. We both just looked out the window for what ended up being a few minutes. His view overlooked the street, but beyond that was a more flat land that gave for a great display of the sunrise.

Kenma let out a small yawn and I looked over my shoulder at him, suddenly becoming aware of how dark the space under his eyes were.
"Did you not sleep last night Kenma?"
"Do I ever?"

It was true. Ever since we were little, Kenma never really got a full nights sleep. In fact he was probably awake before me and just waited until I got up.

I guess it had to do with his parents when he was younger. They'd argue and fight with one another, keeping him up at night.
Kenma's father was a real piece of work. I remember overhearing him tell Kenma that he'd never amount to anything and that volleyball was for those who were bad at everything else. Kenma was 6 at the time. From there on out, I grew to resent him. Not only was he awful to Kenma but to his mother as well. She loved to cook, but nothing was ever good enough for him. He would toss the food out the back window, smashing the plate in the process. When things were really bad, Kenma would run to my house where we'd feed him instead. Even then, he wouldn't eat much, afraid of it being snatched away at any moment.
His father was the most condescending and hypocritical man I've ever met. He was all talk for working at a grocery store in central Tokyo as a fish cleaner. The one who descales the fish before tossing them on the display of ice.
Luckily when Kenma had just turned 12, his mom left him, having Kenma live with her full time.  I don't think Kenma has spoken to him since. Not that he'd want to.

Kenma turned away from the window,
"When you go downstairs, try not to wake my mom. She's been working really hard lately and I want her to sleep in today." Kenma took his phone off the desk, grabbing his headphones on his way into the bathroom.

I finished gelling my hair in the small mirror before skipping down the stairs to the kitchen.

Something only really Kenma knows about me is that I love to cook. So while he and his mom were absent, I quickly made some miso soup with small tofu chunks and a pot of rice. Setting out enough bowls for all of us, but keeping his mother's portion on the stove.

Kenma came down with his eyes glued to his phone a couple minutes later.

"Oya oya!" He didn't look up.
"Ahem, Kenma, I made breakfast!" Still no response, meaning his full brain power was going into whatever was on that screen at the moment. I waited for his shoulders to drop, the only physical sign that whatever tense thing he was in the middle of had ended. Today, not only did his shoulders drop but his hair seemed to stand on edge, his whole body tensing before he sighed. "I can't play video games in your sweatshirt. The arms are too long and get in my way."
"Then why don't you just take it off?" I asked.
He stared me in the eyes: "no". 
I laughed at him.

"Right, so as I was saying, I made breakfast." Gesturing to the array on the table. Kenma looked up this time, suddenly aware of his surroundings and the smell of miso soup in the air.
"Kuro, how did you do that so fast?" I shrugged and smiled, noticing he had put eyeliner on in his time upstairs.

I can't believe it took me so long to realize that it wasn't natural. All this time it was drawn on and he didn't just naturally look like a cat. Well, he did eyeliner or not, he did look like a cat. His wide eyes tend to catch you off guard as they verge on an almost piercingly bright gold. Not only that, but he acts like a cat at times too. Perching on top of things, or curling up tightly when sleeping we're both things I'd noticed over the years.

We ate and talked, everything seemed to be back to normal, the events of last night gone. As we were finishing his mom came out in her robe. It was about 9 at this point.
"Good morning boys! Kuroo did you cook something?"
"Er, yes, I did. I hope that's alright, I used the last of the tofu."

"Oh that's totally fine! Thank you for the food, it looks great!"
I caught her looking back over at Kenma and winking. He quickly shook his head in response, eyes wide.
"Did you say we're out of tofu, Kuroo?"

"Yes, I used the last of it."

"Hm, well in that case, would you boys like to ride into the city with me? I have some errands to run."

I loved the city. All the buzz and commotion in the streets and the smells of street food from vendors all around you was one of my favorite things ever.

I looked to Kenma, "You wanna go?"

"Sure."

"Well then that settles it. How about we head off in an hour?" His mom replied, talking a seat in the dining room with us.