We're All Freaks, Here

Kenma pulled at one of the strings of his hoodie, a deep-set scowl plastered on his face. "Being put into a room and forced to make friends. I feel like such a freak."
"Hey- at least we're all freaks, here," Kuroo winked.

Six boys. The ugly, freckled weirdo; the skinny loser with the blonde hair. The creep with the open wounds; the boy with the dead father. The weirdo who can't breathe; the twin, always damned to be half of a whole.

Lonely, friendless; sick and monstrous to the bones. Maybe a few friendships might blossom. Maybe those friendships will twist and churn into something more meaningful.