Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was around 9 p.m. on a Saturday night when Kuroo Tetsurou stuck his head inside the study room for the eleventh time that day, where his boyfriend had been cooped up the entire day gaming. “You done yet, kitten?” he asked, a small, barely discernible bite of impatience in his voice. With how perceptive Kenma was, he definitely would have noticed it if he wasn’t so miffed at losing his fourth game because Kuroo had distracted him.

No one could blame him, really. As a professional gamer, he had a reputation to keep up. He had been getting increasingly irritated the whole day, even though he knew Kuroo only wanted to spend time with him. Kenma’s temper was usually akin to a calm sea, smooth and relaxed. But just like how the sea sometimes roiled and raged, even he had his breaking point. Kenma tugged his headphones onto his shoulders. “Tetsu, could you possibly just... leave me alone? I’m working, goddammit—”

Kuroo tensed, standing up straight. “...Am I that unimportant? Today’s one of the extremely rare days that I’m not working. I could be in the office right now making money, but I’m choosing to spend time with you instead. Or at least trying to.” 

Kenma frowned, his brows scrunching in irritation. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Kuroo’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. “All you do is game and stream, Kenma! I’m trying to be understanding, I am, but we haven’t even talked properly in a month. I’m the only one putting effort into this relationship, and—” 

Kenma scoffed, looking away from Kuroo momentarily. “You’re the only one putting effort into this relationship? So what now? You want to break up with me?” 

Kuroo’s eyes widened in exasperation, frustration making them darken. “No! Kitten, I just—” 

“Save it, Tetsurou. I’m working. Maybe it would be better if you were too.” Turning away, Kenma tugged his headphones back over his ears and restarted his game.

“...Fine!” Kuroo turned around and stormed away, and barely a minute later, Kenma heard their front door slam shut. 

Kenma’s eyes looked down, darting around the room, his hands hovering tensely over the keyboard of his laptop before he sighed heavily and slumped back against his chair. There’s no way I’ll be able to game right now. Pulling off his headphones and placing them carefully on the table, he got up and stretched his stiff limbs, stepping out of the study room for the first time that day since the morning, walking into their living room and sliding open the glass balcony door. He took a deep breath of the fresh night breeze that blew in, bare feet stepping out onto the beige terracotta tiles, cool against his skin.

Walking out and leaning his forearms against the shoulder-height metal railing, he surveyed the bustling, metropolitan city of Tokyo from twenty-seven floors up, the streets and buildings below him glittering and glowing with specks of artificial light, people swarming everywhere. Looking up to the sky, Kenma spotted the few stars that continuously fought against Tokyo’s light pollution and won, winking victoriously down at him. He loved those stars, but even their brilliance and beauty wasn’t enough to tamp down the persistent simmer of annoyance in his veins. 

Gods, why is he so pushy sometimes? It’s not my fault that our schedules don’t coincide. My job depends on my reputation as a gamer. With the number of games I lost today, I’ve probably already let at least a thousand dollars slip through my fingers. Kenma sighed again, his eyes scanning across the navy sky dotted sparsely with little specks of light. His view skated over an aeroplane, moving on without hesitation. ...Wait. That was too bright to be an aeroplane. He looked back and squinted slightly. Is that… Is that a shooting star? Following the path of the glimmering star with his wide eyes, he remembered the stories that his mother told him when he was a child, about how you could wish on a star, and your wish would be granted. Kenma blinked hesitantly, wondering if what he was about to do was a good idea before resolve set his features. 

“I wish Tetsurou would just leave me alone,” Kenma whispered under his breath, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction, slightly mollified. He knew that he was being petty, but he couldn’t help it. He slid the balcony door open and stepped back into the living room, going back to the study and sitting down in his chair in a marginally better mood. He dragged slim fingers across the trackpad of his laptop, shifting in his seat as the screen lit up, bathing his face in light. Hmm… I think I’ll stream for a while. Kenma got comfortable, putting his headphones on and starting a live stream, mentally preparing himself for another long period of gaming.

                              *

Kenma swallowed. God, I’m thirsty. He absentmindedly reached to the right for his mug of green tea that was always there at night, only for his hand to swipe through empty air. Huh? And then he realised. Oh… It’s usually Kuroo who makes green tea for me. He stilled and thought back on the events of that evening, and a pang of guilt struck his heart as he slowly realised how bad he had messed up. Kuroo was always there for him, bringing him food when he was hungry, drinks for long nights of gaming, cuddles and kisses whenever Kenma wanted them, and boundless care, love and affection. And now that he was gone… Kenma could finally see how ungrateful he had been. Well, I fucked up. Crap. God, I was so unfair. And all he wanted was to spend time with me. He was right, wasn’t he? I haven’t been putting enough effort into our relationship. The guilt was getting suffocating by now. Kenma quickly wrapped up his live stream before he grabbed his phone and unlocked it, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise when he realised that it was already 11 p.m.. Time always seemed to fly by when he was streaming. He opened his messaging app, clicking on Kuroo’s name and typing out his message before hitting the send button.

Kenma: Tetsu, where are you? Please come home. 

He thought for a while before he typed again.

Kenma: I’m sorry.

Kenma: I miss you.

Kenma was gratified when the text bubble at the bottom left corner of his screen appeared almost immediately, gripping his phone tight in unfamiliar nervousness and anticipation as he waited for Kuroo’s reply.

Kuroo: Okay, kitten. Whatever you want. It’s late, why don’t you go to sleep first? I’m with Bokuto and Akaashi, I’ll be driving home soon. I love you.

Kenma breathed a sigh of relief. Okay. He doesn’t seem mad… He hesitated for a while before typing back.

Kenma: Okay. I love you too. Drive safe.

Kenma reread the messages, feeling his heart squeeze when his eyes skimmed over ‘whatever you want’. Kuroo sacrificed so much for him, dedicated so much of his time and effort to Kenma, and yet Kenma had just dismissed him and taken everything for granted. I need to make things up to him. Slamming his laptop shut, he stood up and walked to the bedroom that he and Kuroo shared, yanking open the doors of the mahogany closet and pulling out one of Kuroo’s oversized (on Kenma, at least) shirts and one of his own pairs of skin-tight boxers. He hurried to the bathroom and changed out of his hoodie and sweatpants, inspecting himself in the mirror. It was definitely something that Kuroo would like, given his partiality to seeing his tiny (again, to Kuroo at least) boyfriend swamped in his clothes, but it wasn’t risqué enough that he would be sent to jail for outrage of modesty if anyone else saw him. Satisfied with his outfit, Kenma walked out of the bathroom, padding over to the bed, tugging his hair out of his usual messy bun and snuggling down under the covers. He fell asleep thinking of Kuroo, having completely forgotten about the shooting star and his wish.

Chapter Text

Kuroo stomped out of the air-conditioned lift lobby of his apartment block, scanning the dark open-air carpark for the sleek black Mercedes that he and Kenma shared. He pressed the car keys roughly, unlocking the doors before yanking one of them open and throwing himself huffily into the driver’s seat. Tugging his phone out of his jeans pocket, he called his best friend, Bokuto Koutarou. Before long, the professional volleyball player had picked up. “Hey bro, you free right now? I need a drink.” 

Bokuto didn’t even need to think before he replied. “Yeah, as long as Keiji can come too. What’s up?” Akaashi Keiji was Bokuto’s boyfriend, a university student studying to become a lawyer.

Kuroo sighed. He was already dreading recounting the entire ordeal. “I’ll explain everything when I see you. Our usual place in twenty?” 

Bokuto whistled. “Yeah, drive safe. I’ll buy tonight, you sound like you’re gonna explode.” 

Kuroo groaned. “I feel like it too. See you and Akaashi there.” He cut the call, sticking the car key into the ignition and starting the engine. Sitting back in the leather-covered seat and buckling up his seatbelt, he pressed a foot to the accelerator, both hands on the steering wheel, pulling out of the carpark once the gantry lifted and driving onto the main road.

It took Kuroo fifteen minutes to drive to The Owl’s Nest, a small, retro bistro that Bokuto had found when they turned legal and had become their regular hangout spot ever since. He was a little reckless and sped through a couple of yellow lights on the way there, but could you really blame him? By the time he parked his car and walked inside, Bokuto and Akaashi were already waiting for him at their usual table. The bistro was packed (understandable, considering that it was a Saturday night), with groups of people sitting around, eating and drinking and chatting like they didn’t have a care in the world. The bartenders were churning out drink after drink, and a mix of smooth jazz music and low laughter filled the fairy-light-lit space. Bokuto grinned and Akaashi gave a small nod of acknowledgement as Kuroo slid into his usual booth seat opposite him. “Hey hey hey, Tetsubro! ...You look like shit, man. What happened?” 

To say that Kuroo looked like shit was a severe understatement. He was a wreck, his eyes watering, hair even messier than usual, nose red from holding back tears. “I fought with Kenma. Well, not really even a fight. It was over before I could even process.”

Bokuto looked around, spotting a waiter and waving him over. He ordered a Whiskey Sour for Kuroo, a French 75 for himself and a non-alcoholic lemon-mint spritzer for Akaashi because his dark-haired boyfriend needed to drive the both of them back home later. “Spill, bro.” 

“Well, I took a day off today just for him, I got all his favourite movies and snacks ready, I just wanted to spend some time with him, and… I was going to propose tonight.” Kuroo dug a delicate silver engagement band out from his pants pocket, chuckling humorlessly at Bokuto’s excited, exaggerated ‘ooooooooooh’. He kept the ring and took a big gulp of his drink. “We hardly ever spend time together anymore because of our jobs, but he’s the only one for me, and I want to spend the rest of my life with him. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that I love him more than anything in this world. But he just didn’t want to stop gaming and… I lost my temper at him. And he snapped back. And then I stormed out and called you.”

Ever since Kuroo arrived, Akaashi had been silent. Now, after listening to his explanation, the university student finally spoke up. “Well, Kuroo-san, I think you should give him some time to cool off before you go back,” he said sagely, taking a small sip of his drink and licking his lips. “You still want to propose to him, right?”

Kuroo snorted. “Of course I do! Although I’m kinda worried that he’ll say no……” he mumbled, trying to hide his obvious inner anxiety by raking a hand through his untameable black hair.

Bokuto huffed in a sort of fond exasperation. “Nonsense. Talk things out and tell him how you’re feeling. He loves you too, you know. He’ll listen.” 

“...You really think so? Do you think he’ll say yes?” Kuroo gnawed on his lower lip.

Bokuto huffed again, chuckling as even Akaashi shook his head with a fond smile. “What did I just say?”

“...Okay. Thanks, guys.” Kuroo downed the rest of his drink in one go and winced at the burn, putting his glass down on the glossy wooden countertop and shaking his head when Bokuto offered to buy him another. “I need to drive, remember? Anyways, enough about me and my horrible life choices. How are you two?”

                              *

Their conversation flowed like beer from the taps at the mixing bar. As it turned out, Akaashi would be graduating and becoming a lawyer soon, and Bokuto was still playing in his prime with the MSBY Black Jackals. They hadn’t even realised that two hours had passed when Kuroo’s phone buzzed three times in quick succession.

“I bet that’s Kenma,” Bokuto slurred (he was already drunk), smirking at Kuroo from across the table as he dug his phone out from his back pocket. He held it screen down, kind of afraid to see who had texted him. Ok. Deep breath. It’s fine. He quickly flipped the screen over. And sure enough, there were three notifications with Kenma’s pet name on them. Kuroo wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse. 

Bokuto widened his eyes dramatically. “Come on, bro, open them!” 

“Okay, okay, just—” Without giving himself any more time to chicken out, Kuroo clicked on the notifications, his heart racing in anticipation as his messaging app opened.

Kenma: Tetsu, where are you? Please come home. 

Kenma: I’m sorry.

Kenma: I miss you.

Kuroo felt his chest tighten, a small smile on his lips. It wasn’t often that Kenma verbally expressed his affection. He quickly replied, wanting to catch Kenma while he was still online.

Kuroo: Okay, kitten. Whatever you want. It’s late, why don’t you go to sleep first? I’m with Bokuto and Akaashi, I’ll be driving home soon. I love you.

At the bottom left corner of the screen, the text bubble appeared and disappeared a few times, before Kenma replied.

Kenma: Okay. I love you too. Drive safe.

By this time, it was already 11 p.m., Bokuto had just finished his fourth French 75, and he was absolutely wasted (it wasn’t unexpected, really, those things were strong as fuck). “I should get back home. My boyfriend’s waiting for me.” Kuroo laughed as Bokuto smiled drunkenly. 

“Bye, Tetsubro! Call meeeee~” he slurred, waving. 

“Are you sure you’re sober enough to drive home, Kuroo-san?” Akaashi asked worriedly. 

“Yeah, of course, Akaashi. I would never risk my life when I have Kenma that I need to get home to. Besides, you’ve already got your hands full.” Kuroo smirked, pointedly raising an eyebrow at a very drunk Bokuto who was draped over Akaashi’s side and mouthing at his neck. 

“Are you sure? Let me call you a cab—” 

“Akaashi, it’s fine, really. Get Bokuto home.” He chuckled amiably. “You know I can hold my liquor, and I barely drank anything. Tell him to call me when he sobers up. He’s gonna have a massive hangover tomorrow.” 

Akaashi smiled, more or less convinced that Kuroo was okay. “Don’t I know it. Update us on the Kenma situation, yeah?” 

“Of course. Get home safe.” 

“You too!” 

With a wave over his shoulder, Kuroo walked out of the bar and back to his car. He got in and buckled up, starting on the drive home, back to his lover.

                              *

Kuroo was halfway home, driving on Fuchumachi highway, a familiar route he knew like the back of his hand. He was driving straight, eyes on the road, when his vision suddenly wavered out of focus. What the— He gasped and let up on the accelerator, thankful that the highway was empty. Kuroo sucked in a shaky breath as his vision came back into focus, his hands clenching the steering wheel tight. What the heck? I only had one drink, and I know my limits, there’s no way that I’m drunk. I never get drunk after just one Whiskey Sour. Did someone spike it? Okay, no, I need to get off the road first. Kuroo carefully turned the steering wheel to the left, driving towards the road shoulder, only for his vision to go fuzzy again. He immediately took his foot off the accelerator, but the car didn’t stop. In fact, it sped up. The Mercedes crashed straight through the barrier at the side of the highway, driving into the canal beneath it, hitting the water with a big splash. The windscreen cracked, water seeping in, and Kuroo started to panic, tugging at his seatbelt and yanking on his door handle. That shouldn’t have been possible. With that distance, I shouldn’t have been able to gain enough momentum to crash through the metal barrier. And why didn’t the car slow down?

Kuroo sucked in one last breath before his head went underwater. He held it for as long as he could, but eventually, he could feel water seeping into his mouth and nose, filling his lungs and choking him. His frantic movements got weaker and slower, still trying futilely to tug his seatbelt free, but it was stuck fast. Everything was heavy and sluggish, and as Kuroo expended the last of his strength struggling in vain, he knew right then that he was going to die. No. No! The last time I see Kenma can’t be when we were fighting! I need to see him again, I need to- need to… His last coherent thought was I’m sorry Kenma. I love you. before his eyes finally fluttered shut and everything went black.

Chapter Text

Kenma jolted awake, bolting upright as the sharp trill of the doorbell rang through the house. He yanked the covers to one side, swinging his legs onto the floor, glancing at the clock and baulking when he realised that it was 2 a.m. Oh, Tetsu must have forgotten his keys when he went out. But didn’t he say that he would be back soon? It was 12 when I texted him… Kenma had a strange feeling in his gut that he couldn’t place. It almost felt like…nervousness. Why do I have a bad feeling about this? Kenma padded into the living room, unlocking the door and swinging it open, only to come face to face with two policemen right outside his door, dressed in their full uniform and looking absolutely exhausted.

The taller one on the left cleared his throat. “Do you know Kuroo Tetsurou?” 

Kenma frowned suspiciously. “Yes, I’m his boyfriend…?”

The policemen looked at each other with identical resigned looks on their faces. “May we come in? You... might want to sit down.”

That strange feeling in Kenma’s gut was getting stronger. “No, just tell me here. What happened? Did he get into a fight?” 

The shorter policeman on the right sighed, fiddling with the belt loops on his pants. “...We’re so sorry, but Kuroo-san’s car drove into the canal next to the highway at Fuchumachi. When the recovery crew pulled him out of the water… The paramedics couldn’t save him. He was… The initial inspection said that he showed signs of alcohol intoxication. He was drunk driving. I’m so sorry,” he said softly, his face empathetic. 

Kenma’s expression went from sleepy and bored to confused, and then his eyes went wide as he processed what the policemen had said. He’s not dead. He can’t be dead. He can’t. 

“Are you… Are you absolutely sure he’s—?”

“...Yes. We were there,” the taller, dark-haired policeman muttered, looking down at his polished black shoes.

Kenma felt like someone had stabbed a knife into his heart and was now twisting it around viciously. He briefly thought that he must look ridiculous, standing in his doorway in an oversized shirt and boxers, biting down hard on his bottom lip in a desperate attempt to hold back the hot tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes. But it was hard, and the tears burned like all hell. 

He must have looked like a wreck because the concern on the policemen’s faces only grew. “Are you alright? No, I’m sorry, that was a stupid question. Will you be alright?” The shorter, blond one asked, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

“Yeah, I just… Yeah. I’ll be fine. Thank you. Could we... maybe... settle the details tomorrow…?” Kenma choked out, still trying desperately not to cry. 

The policemen answered right away. ”Of course, we’ll call you. We’re sorry for your loss.” 

“T-Thank you.” 

Kenma closed the door and leaned against it, his legs propped at an angle in front of him to support his body weight, his head tilting back against the solid wood. It reminded him painfully of the times when Kuroo would hug him from behind, his solid, constant warmth providing Kenma with comfort and security that he couldn’t get anywhere else. Kenma gulped hard, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “Tetsu… W-Whatever I want, you said that you would do whatever I want, I want y-you to come back to me. Come home. I want you to come home, you promised— you— you promised, Tetsu, come back to me. COME BACK!” Kenma screamed, bending at the waist and doubling over in grief, relishing the burn in his throat. The neighbours surely wouldn’t be happy, but Kenma didn't care. Not when it was finally setting in; The shock that he would never be able to see Kuroo alive again, see his sly grins, or the special soft smiles that he saved just for his boyfriend. The shock that he would never be able to bask in Kuroo’s warmth and love again, soaking it in as his boyfriend cradled him in his safe, warm embrace. Kuroo was the constant in Kenma’s life, always real and solid and there, so much so that he’d been taking his boyfriend for granted for the longest time, but now that he was gone… It was too late. 

Somehow, deep inside him, Kenma knew that Kuroo couldn’t have been drunk. Akaashi and Bokuto would never have let him drive home if he was. It was the star, wasn’t it? It was my wish. It’s my fault that he’s dead. Kenma slid down with his back against the door until he was sitting on the floor, curling into himself and hugging his knees. “I’m sorry, Tetsu, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry, please come home, please—” His sobs wracked his slim, hunched frame, broken noises falling from trembling lips, tears leaving glistening tracks on flushed cheeks. Kenma screamed and begged for Kuroo to come back, apologised and pleaded as loud as he could, but his cries were useless; there was no one there.

                                                                                        *

Three months later

Kenma stared at the small pile of little white tablets in his left palm, fifteen or sixteen of them, those little tablets that you dropped down the drain to clear your clogged sink, the cardboard box that they had previously been in dangling from his other hand. Lifting up the flimsy carton, he scanned the label stuck on the back again. ‘Substance abuse will lead to death’. Good. Kenma wanted to make sure that his plan would work, not just knock him out and land him in the hospital for him to wake up a few days later feeling like he had just chugged a bottle of tequila the night before. Gaming, his job, his life… They all didn’t matter to Kenma anymore. They no longer held any meaning or value, not when Kuroo wasn’t there by his side to experience them together. 

Three months. It had been three months since that day Kenma had received the news, since the morning that Bokuto and Akaashi had driven over to the flat that he owned, the former nursing a horrible hangover and the latter plagued with guilt. Three months since the first day the three of them had sobbed together on the couch that Kenma and Kuroo used to share, crying until their heads were pounding and they had no tears left, the start of a long period of moping around in Kenma’s apartment and seeking solace in each other’s company. Kenma had decided to leave out the little detail about the shooting star and his wish. It was already bad enough that Kuroo was dead. He didn’t need Akaashi and Bokuto blaming him for it too. Or maybe it was because he was too scared to face his own actions, for he knew that Akaashi and Bokuto would only comfort him instead.

Akaashi had told him that Kuroo was planning to propose that night before he and Kenma fell out, and Kenma's heart had ached fiercely with the promise of what could have been if he hadn't been so ungrateful and petty and made that damned wish. He knew it was cowardly to run from what he had done, but he couldn’t face himself. He had no idea that a few careless words would have such disastrous consequences. His wish had been granted, but he wanted for nothing more than to take it back. He couldn’t eat or sleep, or game, or do anything without being reminded of and missing Kuroo.

And here he was, three months later, about to take the coward’s way out again. Ever since Kuroo had died, Kenma had been slowly cracking, spiralling downwards in a freefall with no way to stop himself. He’d tried cutting himself, drowning his sorrows in alcohol (although he wasn’t even and never would be an alcohol person), even seeing a therapist and taking anti-depression meds, but nothing had worked. He had simply lost the will to live without Kuroo. His friends, his family, his job… As sad as it was, the truth was that they weren’t a good enough reason for Kenma to live on. He knew that what he was about to do was cowardly and that suicide wasn’t the answer, but he couldn’t see the harm in giving it a shot when he had tried everything else. The other point? He didn’t care if it was cowardly. He would do anything to feel something again. If soulmates existed, Kuroo would have been Kenma’s and vice versa, and without Kuroo, all Kenma felt was numb and listless. To add insult to injury, Kenma still felt like Kuroo’s death was his fault (which it technically was, but the poor boy’s already depressed enough, so let’s just put the details aside, shall we?). I don’t even know why I’m doing this, not really. All Kenma knew was that if wishing on shooting stars worked, it wasn’t impossible for the afterlife to exist too. And if there was any chance that he would be able to see Kuroo again…… You could bet your life that Kenma was going to take it. As much as he had been ungrateful and acted cool and aloof, he loved Kuroo with all his heart and soul.

Snapping himself out of his little reverie, Kenma took a deep breath, asking himself if this was what he really wanted one last time. His answer was the same as it had been for months. He tossed the handful of tablets into his mouth and crunched them to pieces for good measure, flinching but not hesitating at the tart bitterness and the foam that fizzed up. He reached for the glass of water next to him on the dining table and took a small sip before swallowing to wash everything down, closing his eyes, sitting back in his wooden chair and waiting. By ten minutes, he started feeling lightheaded. By twenty, his vision was bleeding black around the edges. By thirty, Kenma collapsed from his chair onto the floor, fading out of consciousness as impenetrable darkness swarmed in from all sides and overwhelmed him.

Chapter Text

Kenma regained consciousness and opened his eyes just as he stepped through a doorway into a game store. What the— He walked to the centre of the room and turned around in a slow circle, taking in his surroundings, staring in wonder at the shelves stacked with games lining the matte black walls. Looking down at himself, he realised that he was still wearing the same clothes he was when he swallowed those white fizzy tablets. I was lying on the floor, passed out cold. How was I even walking, when I was unconscious, no less? Where am I?

“You’re in Nirvana.” A tall, pale boy who Kenma hadn’t noticed spoke, startling him. He had black curls that gleamed under the white lights of the store, and he was wearing some sort of white bathrobe… thingy. Kenma honestly didn’t know. He leaned on an empty section of the wall, one shoulder bearing his weight, ankles crossed casually.

“How’d you know I— Never mind. So I’m in a game store called Nirvana? How’d I get into a game store? And who are you?” Kenma wiggled his hands around in emphasis, trying to express his confusion.

The guy snorted, pink lips quirking up in a smirk. “Well, you’re dead. This isn’t a game store, you are literally in Nirvana. It looks different to everyone. And I’m… Well, I’m your Guide. I’m assigned to you until you reincarnate.” 

Kenma blinked. “Oh. Umm, well, I’m Kenma. Kozume Kenma.” 

“Okay, Kenma. I’m Leviathan, but you can call me Levi. So, it’s the protocol that I run you through all the rules of Nirvana before we go anywhere.” Levi cleared his throat importantly, drawing himself up straighter. “Everybody who died and has done good deeds, or hasn’t done bad deeds at least, are here in Nirvana unless they’ve been reincarnated, which means you’ll become a random baby at a random place with none of the memories of your past life. You can’t stay here forever, so the amount of time you can stay here depends on the number of good deeds you did in your life. Nirvana looks different to everyone, depending on their personal taste, preferences and beliefs. I’m assuming you see it as a game store?” Levi asked, raising an eyebrow good-naturedly. He pushed himself off the wall with his right shoulder and walked towards Kenma.

“Yeah. That makes sense,” Kenma muttered absentmindedly, staring at Levi blankly while still trying to absorb all the information that had been loaded onto him. 

“You’re a gamer boy, huh? Okay then. Now, we need to go to the Central to get your Evaluation. Your Evaluation is a report that tabulates all your good deeds and tells you how long you can stay here. After that, I’ll show you around. Sounds good?” Levi stared at Kenma expectantly.

“Yeah,” Kenma replied, still a little dazed. Levi reached forwards to put a hand between his shoulder blades, guiding him forward. “Oh, yeah, for the entire duration of your stay, you’ll have a Guide. So you’re stuck with me till you reincarnate.” Levi gave Kenma a sly grin that reminded him painfully of Kuroo’s. “I have to say, you’re taking all this admirably well. Shall we?”

Levi walked to the corner of the room and pushed on a hidden panel, sliding it to the side when it popped out and revealing a thick black velvet curtain. He stepped aside, gesturing to the mysterious doorway with his left arm. “After you.” He grinned mischievously at Kenma. Shooting him a suspicious glance, Kenma stepped forward and pushed aside the curtain, only to get hit in the face by a cacophony of sound and light. The doorway led into an arcade. A massive, incredible, multi-levelled, completely insane arcade. There were so many floors that Kenma couldn’t count them, stretching endlessly up towards the sky, each spilling a vibrant blast of sound and light. Just from where he was at the entrance, Kenma could already see a huge glass slide, a bungee jump from some floor high up there that Kenma didn’t know (holy crap, this place is huge), multiple poker machines and gambling tables, and VR machines everywhere. “Pretty sick, huh?” Levi chuckled at the wondrous look on Kenma’s face. “Since I’m your guide, as soon as we leave the Entrance room, I see everything the way you see it. Come on!” Kenma could see why this was his version of Nirvana. All his favourite games were there, from Super Smash Bros to Mario Kart. Apparently, he wasn’t the only person who loved gaming, because the arcade was packed. People (dead people?) were everywhere, having fun and mingling with their friends. Kenma wasn’t a people person, but he was willing to deal with the social interaction for a chance to play the games here.

“C’mon, follow me. You can stare and come back to have fun later. We need to go and get your Evaluation before you go anywhere else,” Levi admonished gently, putting both hands on Kenma’s back and pushing him forward.

“O-Oh. Right, sorry. So we’re going to the... Centre?” Kenma asked over his shoulder, stumbling forward with Levi’s weight pushing him. 

“Yep! We’re gonna need to take the central lift, c’mon!” Levi reached forwards and grabbed his wrist, tugging him along and navigating through the sprawling maze of game machines. He brought Kenma right to the centre of the arcade, where there was a huge glass tube with an elevator inside, reaching all the way up to the ceiling. By this time, Kenma was a little overwhelmed by Levi’s chaotic energy, but perhaps it was because the tall pale boy reminded him painfully of his kouhai and ex-volleyball teammate who was now a model, Haiba Lev. Levi couldn’t have looked more than eighteen and acted like an over-excited puppy with too much energy, but Kenma could sense an aura around him, one of weariness and deep, profound sadness. 

I suppose it can’t be easy to see all these dead people. Not to mention that he bonds with the people he Guides, only for them to leave him when they reincarnate. As the elevator doors dinged open and Levi dragged Kenma inside, Kenma could see on the control panel that there were a hundred floors in total. There was a lift button for each one, with a label next to it for what that particular floor contained. There’s an entire floor dedicated to Mario Kart?! I’ve gotta go there later… Levi pressed the button at the very top of the panel, with a short, simple label: Centre. As the elevator began to move away from the ground, the cliched elevator music kicked in, and Kenma couldn’t help but giggle. Is that Fly Me To The Moon by Frank Sinatra? Kenma’s face fell. Kuroo loved that song… Oh my god. Kuroo. All of a sudden, Kenma felt absolutely horrible. He had been so caught up in all the Nirvana drama that he had completely forgotten about his boyfriend. He was marginally sure Kuroo would have made it to Nirvana, but he was afraid that his boyfriend had reincarnated to try and find him. He turned to the side. “Levi, is there some sort of help kiosk here? I need to find someone.”

Levi took one look at Kenma’s panicked expression and nodded seriously. “It’s in the Centre. And no, this thing can’t go any faster. I know what you were gonna ask,” he sighed when Kenma opened his mouth. With nothing else left to say, Kenma snapped his jaw shut and swallowed hard, recalling the memory of slow-dancing in Kuroo’s arms on their balcony with this very song playing in the background, his boyfriend singing the familiar words softly and pulling Kenma close. It was painful, to say the least, to be reminded of what he had single-handedly thrown away with just a few careless words. Kenma looked down at the glass floor of the elevator in shame as a tear burned its way down his cheek.

The ride up to the Centre seemed to take forever, but when they finally arrived, Kenma stepped out into a white room. And by white, I mean completely white. White walls, white floor, white shopping mall directory-looking thingy, white… Is that a DDR machine? Levi walked by his side, nodding towards the dance machine. “Go on, step on the platform and look into the retinal scanner.” He looked more serious than Kenma had ever seen him (even though he had only known Levi for a day). Kenma hesitantly stepped up onto the raised platform, wincing when it lit up like a torch, glowing bright white. He forced himself to open his eyes and look straight into the camera on top of the machine’s screen (please tell me that this is the retinal scanner). Less than five seconds later, his information was scrolling out across the screen. 

Kozume Kenma

Born October 16 1995

Died July 29 2019

Good: 65%

Bad: 35%

Maximum duration of stay: 45 years (3 years : 1%)

“Hey, forty-five years! That’s not bad, Kenma!” Levi grinned, looking at the screen over Kenma’s shoulder. “Oh, right, basically, at fifty percent Good, you have to reincarnate immediately. From fifty-one to fifty-five percent, you get to stay one year for every one percent. At fifty-six to sixty percent, you can stay two years for every one percent, so on and so forth.”

Kenma nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense. Now, can I go and-” He froze as the screen went blank. He turned to Levi frantically. “Was that supposed to happen? Please tell me it was supposed to happen.”

Even Levi looked a little unnerved. “I don’t know. That’s never happened before… Look!” The screen had filled in again.

Kozume Kenma

Born October 16 1995

Died July 29 2019

Good: 50%

Bad: 50%

Main crime: Cursed Kuroo Tetsurou by shooting star

Maximum duration of stay: 0 years (immediate reincarnation)

Please go to the Reincarnation Gate and reincarnate within 24 hours.

Staring at the screen, Kenma felt... numb. I knew it. I knew it! It was my fault. It was all my fault. ...I need to find Tetsu. His jaw clenched tight, Kenma stepped off the platform, barely startling when the machine spat out a slip of paper with his refreshed Evaluation printed on it. He grabbed it and strode briskly over to the shopping mall directory thing, ignoring the way Levi was worriedly studying his almost pained expression. The interactive touch screen displayed only one thing: a search bar. Kenma tapped on it, and a keyboard popped up. With trembling fingers, Kenma keyed in ‘Kuroo Tetsurou’. 

Kuroo Tetsurou

Born November 17 1994

Died 29 April 2019

Reincarnated: Yes (29 April 2019)

Kenma felt his heart break all over again. He could feel it cracking, that mask of nonchalance and indifference that he had hurriedly constructed to escape from Levi’s scrutiny. But he gritted his teeth and silently bore the pain of having his heart ripped apart inside his chest, taking it in his stride. He refused to let that mask crack any more, no matter how much his lip trembled, no matter how much he wanted to drop to the ground and cry until he passed out. It’s about time I take responsibility for my actions. Kenma took a deep breath, stepping away from the directory and looking deep into Levi’s dark eyes. “Take me to the Reincarnation Gate.” 

                               *

Kenma shielded his eyes from the glare of the Reincarnation Gates. They were vast, crafted out of solid gold, guarding a path that was glowing with soft golden light. “Kozume Kenma,” a woman’s clear, melodious voice announced. “Please step forward.” Clenching his fists, Kenma walked right in front of the gates.

He turned to his Guide, who was standing a few feet away. “Thank you, Levi. For everything.” The tall, pale boy only nodded his goodbye, looking incredibly sad. Kenma thought that he finally understood why. 

“Reincarnating in five…”

Tetsurou…

“Four…”

I’ll find you.

“Three…” 

I don’t know when, or where.

“Two…”

But we’ll be together again.

“One…”

I swear.

The gates swung open and Kenma stepped forward into the light.

Chapter Text

The next time they met again, it was at a park in New York in the year 2147, one of the last few natural parks left around the world. Civilisation had advanced immensely, and now, nearly the entire world was industrialised. Forests and nature everywhere were cleared away to make space for factories and warehouses, a necessary evil in the now-digitalised society.

Nature was nonexistent unless you counted those man-made hanging gardens built inside constantly air-conditioned greenhouses. With the amount of greenhouse gasses, smoke, and carbon dioxide being belched out daily by factories all across the world, the ozone layer was practically non-existent, and the world was in a constant state of summer because of global warming that only the hardiest of plants could survive.

At night, however, it was just a little cooler, the temperature just right enough to call out to two souls, reminding them of late-night strolls under a sky of stars, hand in hand with a lover. A nine-year-old Kenma Kozume dragged his mother to the park for a walk, and a sixty-one-year-old Kuroo Tetsurou slipped out of his front gate, strolling to the park in the darkness broken only by harsh artificial streetlights, silently cursing his creaky knees. 

They weren’t soulmates. After all, those didn’t exist. But they were bound together by love, the love that still prevailed after over a century. There was an inexplicable pull that they felt from the depths of their souls, so pure and strong and true that even young Kenma understood it in his own way. It called out to them like a siren’s song, their souls still yearning for each other even though their past mortal bodies had long burned away.

As they passed each other on that rough brick path framed by strong, old trees, that constant pull turned into a sudden tug, a cry for attention. It was like memories had been tugged forth, too, or at least flashes of them, as they flooded into Kuroo’s and Kenma’s heads; A name, sweet and rich on Kuroo’s tongue like the apple pie his sweetheart loved, a pop of colour from the hard plastic body of an old-school video game console, streaks of straight blond hair; A twist of a sly grin stretching full pink lips, messy, spiky black hair that was silky to the touch, sharp and focused feline eyes. The sound of a volleyball bouncing off wooden floorboards, and the cheers of a crowd. 

In 2147, they were close together, but yet their souls couldn’t be further apart. Both of them shook off the shiver that had suddenly crawled down their spines and that eerie feeling of déja vù, and continued on their way. 

                               *

The next time they met, it was the year 2489. The earth was utterly barren, a wasteland. The ozone layer had been completely burned away, temperatures going through the roof, and the remnants of multiple previous attempts to create and install an artificial one were burned into the scorched, dead ground, having hailed down from the sky in flaming scraps of broken hopes and wasted effort. Previously urbanised areas were now ghost towns filled with decrypted, unmaintained buildings, and very few cities were still inhabited.

Kenma was a baker in Hong Kong, one of the last remaining cities, famous for his sweet-savoury apple pies which he had been making from scratch for forty years, ever since he was thirteen. He didn’t even remember where he had gotten the recipe from. He only recalled baking in a small kitchenette with a tall dark-haired boy beside him, boisterous laughter spilling from his lips, clear and bold and loud as a brass bell. And if there was one thing he knew, it was that he loved that mysterious dark-haired boy with all his heart. A name was the only other thing he remembered; Kuroo Tetsurou. Kenma found himself daydreaming about him sometimes, recalling memories that he didn’t have any recollection of making. 

Kuroo was a blacksmith all the way in the plains of Italy, slaving away in his forge day and night to manipulate molten metal to his will. Weapons, farming tools, ornaments, even jewellery; You name it, he could make it, for the right price, of course. Sometimes, as he held his anvil in place over glowing-hot metal and slammed his hammer down, memories would flash through his mind, unsettling enough for him to put down his tools and take a breather. A small frame, delicate enough to fit perfectly in his muscled arms, yet not weak. A cherry-red pout, lips soft and plush as the pink sakura blossoms that floated on the breezes of Japan in the spring. A voice as sweet as a cool drink of well water on a hot summer’s day. It didn’t take long for Kuroo to realise that his soul was calling out to another, that he was tied to whoever was in his memories. He decided to follow that call, letting his heart and instincts take him halfway around the world to Hong Kong, where he conveniently decided to drop by the best bakery in the city, famous for their apple pies. 

Kuroo walked through the door of the bakery, taking a deep breath as the rich scent of buttery pastry and sweet baked apple hit him full-force. He ordered an apple pie from the man standing behind the cashier. He was slight, with straight black hair streaked with grey. It was a quick affair, just walking in, grabbing a fresh pie and getting out. But when Kuroo took his first bite, another memory hit him. The memory of him sitting down at a table, writing ingredients and measurements down on a piece of paper. The ingredients and measurements for an apple pie. This apple pie. 

                               *

By the year 2721, mankind had recovered, dragging itself back from the brink of destruction and extinction with pure grit and willpower. The earth was now a technological marvel. Scientists had finally succeeded at creating an artificial, self-sustainable ozone layer, encasing their previously-vulnerable planet in a protective bubble. The skies were clear for the first time in centuries, finally purged of the smog and dirt that had been clouding the air. People were discovering new ways of sustainable living every day, and technology had never been more advanced.

The entire planet was digitised, and everybody had their roles to play in the society; It was as close to a perfect utopia as possible. Now that they weren’t under the threat of extinction, mankind was expanding their research beyond their own planet. Astronauts made regular trips into space to search for new civilisations, and astronomers studied the heavens at night for signs from the fates. 

The women and men who read the stars were highly respected for their craft, and they were treated with the utmost respect and reverence, one of the main reasons Kuroo wanted to be one as a kid. He had planted that dream as a seed in his heart when he was a child, and now, at twenty-three years old, that seed had bloomed into a fully-grown tree. He was the top astronomer in Japan, earning a seven-digit salary a year, and a mechanic and scientist to boot. He was highly learned in all three sciences, but he had a soft spot for chemistry in particular. Perhaps it was because whenever he did anything chemistry-related, he would remember. Mankind knew, now, about the imprints that could be left on a soul, memories that would remain even if their mortal bodies did not.

And Kuroo remembered. He remembered late nights in bed, lying tangled in the sheets with the boy he loved, both of them sweaty and spent and satisfied. He remembered a gleam of soft, pale skin, stark against dark bedclothes, wrapped up in his arms. He remembered delicate hands with slim fingers, interlaced with his own callused ones. He remembered every little wonderful detail about him, from his hair to his eyes to his lips, his favourite food (apple pie, of course), his sweet, calming voice, his cool demeanour, the fact that he loved gaming and volleyball, and that he was a setter.

But he also remembered the fight they’d had, over such a silly matter. He wanted nothing more to see his lover again, to apologise, to make up for what he’d said over seven centuries ago. But perhaps the fates or some higher beings were at work, for the only thing he couldn’t remember was the beautiful boy’s name.

All the way in Kyoto, Kenma was what they called a technologist. He was an IT genius; A programmer, a hacker, and an electrical engineer too. He knew his way around codes better than anyone, and he definitely preferred the company of his sleek silver laptop than people. Just last year, he had graduated at the top of his class at a mere twenty-one years old, making history and putting his name in the academy’s record book. People called him a loner, but he didn’t really care when he was making more cash than all of them put together, even though he was just fresh out of college.

He remembered, too. Remembered strong arms holding him together as he cried out and fell apart in pleasure. Remembered just sitting in silence with his lover when he had a long day and didn’t feel like talking, wrapped up in a warm embrace, a solid chest behind his back. He constantly felt like he was missing a part of himself, like he was an incomplete puzzle and his last missing piece was his lover’s name. But perhaps they were not destined to be in that lifetime, for no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t call it to mind.

Back in Osaka, Kuroo was on the verge of a breakthrough. He had created a machine that scanned the night sky and projected a real-time image onto a semi-transparent polypropylene sheet. Once it was completed and running at full capacity, it would have the ability to identify and label all stars, and it would make astrology and star charts a thousand times easier. The only problem; there was a quirk in the coding that Kuroo couldn’t fix. He had heard of a technologist from Kyoto by the name of Kenma Kozume, his reputation for being one of the best in his field and area quickly gaining momentum. And so, Kuroo had sent him an email, asking if he would be willing to take the trouble to travel down to Osaka from Kyoto to take a look at the machine. Honestly, though, it wouldn’t be much of a hassle at all. With today’s technology, a trip that used to take an hour was now possible in ten minutes.

Of course, Kenma accepted. He had heard of the famous millionaire astrologer before, and he had a strange feeling which he couldn't decide was good or bad about the whole invitation thing. He rode his hovercraft to Osaka a few days later, armed with his laptop and engineering tools. As he took the lift up to Kuroo’s penthouse apartment, that weird tug in his chest only got stronger. Little did he know, Kuroo was feeling the same thing, all his senses on high alert, focused in a way he only was when conducting experiments. As the elevator reached the hundredth floor, the doors slid open with a ding, and Kenma’s feet tripped forward, turning left and leading him down the corridor to a small staircase at the end. It was as if he already knew where he was going. But I’ve never even been here before— How do I know where Kuroo-san’s apartment is? Unless… Could it be him? Kenma hurried up the short flight of stairs, taking them two at a time. Inside his apartment, Kuroo was hit with the sudden urge to open his front door. He stood up from the couch on his spacious balcony, walking back into the living room, his heart rate picking up, and he swung the door open to a small (at least to him) man with his hair half-dyed blond, his right index finger poised to press the doorbell.

Kenma almost couldn’t recognise him. He was used to seeing flashes of his lover, a gleam of black hair, a warm hand clutching his own. But seeing him now, right there in front of Kenma’s eyes, just made it seem so much more real. It felt like lightning was coursing through his veins as his eyes travelled over Kuroo, taking in his broad, strong shoulders and messy hair and every other little detail, all in less than a second. And when Kuroo met his eyes, Kenma knew he was feeling the exact same thing. For more than seven hundred years, this was what Kenma’s soul had been searching for. This was his missing piece. This man, with his messy hair and his strong shoulders. Kuroo Tetsurou. 

Kuroo didn’t realise he was crying until a sob wrenched its way out of his throat. He looked exactly as Kuroo remembered. Delicate fingers, a lean, slim build, full, pink lips. What his spirit had been waiting for for over seven hundred years was right in front of him, standing just outside his doorway. 

More than seven centuries of their souls searching, reaching, yearning for one another, and finally, finally, they had reincarnated into a lifetime where they both remembered and they were the same age (more or less). They had found each other again.

Neither man knew who closed the distance between them. All they knew was that Kenma was running forward, and Kuroo was tugging him into his arms and shutting the door behind them, and after so many years, lifetimes, they were finally complete. Kuroo was fitting his hands around Kenma’s waist, feeling slim fingers thread their way through his hair, and Kenma was rising up on his tiptoes, and their lips met like a collision of two stars, causing a reaction so intense, so bright it was utterly all-encompassing.

Kenma remembered how he used to kiss Kuroo in their last life together, the way he expressed his feelings and thoughts with nothing but the pressure of his lips because he wasn’t good at using his words. He tried that now, gripping Kuroo’s hair tight in his fingers the way he used to, trying to make Kuroo understand, trying to let him see how much Kenma had missed him. It seemed that Kuroo had gotten the message when he pulled back, his eyes wide and dripping salt, slowly sinking to his knees on the ground and bringing Kenma with him.

A disbelieving laugh bubbled out of his throat as he moved his hands up to Kenma’s face, cupping cheeks wet with tears in his warm palms. “Kenma,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion, and Kenma let a sob slip between his lips.

His voice was so heartbreakingly familiar, still deep and smooth and sure, and Kenma wanted nothing but to hear it say his name over and over, again and again and again, a hundred times for every year they were apart. It was as if Kenma’s thoughts were showing on his face. Or maybe had said them aloud. He didn’t know, but

Kuroo stroked a gentle thumb across his cheekbone, wiping away tears, his touch feather-light. “Kenma. Kozume Kenma. Kenma.”

Kenma sobbed again, throwing himself forwards into Kuroo’s lap as the black-haired man sat cross-legged on the ground. “Seven hundred years, Tetsu. For more than seven hundred years, I’ve been looking for you. I missed you so much,” he choked out, swinging his legs to either side of Kuroo’s waist and clinging on tight, looping his arms around his back. He had never been a big advocate for physical contact, but he wasn’t going to make the mistake of keeping his distance again, not like last time when he had taken all of Kuroo’s love and attention for granted. 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Kuroo whispered into Kenma’s hair, his voice trembling, heart warming at the nickname that was both new and familiar at the same time.

“Why are you sorry? If anyone—”

“About our fight, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’m sorry I got drunk, I’m sorry I died, I’m sorry I left you alone, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—” Even more tears were making their way down Kuroo’s face, falling onto Kenma’s scalp. He started pulling back. “Oh, I’m getting your hair wet, I’m sorry—”

So he doesn’t know about the star. “Don’t you dare pull away from me,” Kenma hissed, latching onto Kuroo’s torso even tighter and squeezing him around the waist. “And stop apologising. Please. It was my fault we fought. I’m so sorry I took you for granted.”

“Shh. It’s okay now. I found you. I found you, I can’t believe you’re here. Right here, in my arms. This is all I’ve ever wanted. You are all I’ve ever wanted. Oh, Kenma.” Kuroo pulled back slightly to look into Kenma’s cat-like golden eyes, resting their foreheads together, his voice raw, rough with emotion. “I missed you so much. Every day. Every night. But I couldn’t remember your name, I’m sorry, if I knew I would have tried to find you—”

“I know. I know, I couldn’t remember yours either,” Kenma laughed, his voice thick with tears, rubbing his nose against Kuroo’s. “I love you. I love you. Even after seven hundred years, I love you. Please don’t ever leave me again.”

Kuroo nodded slowly, rubbing firm circles into the small of Kenma’s back with his fingertips. “Never again.”

Chapter Text

Kuroo and Kenma sat there in each other’s arms for a long while, just enjoying each other’s presence. That is until Kuroo realised that they were literally sitting on the floor in front of his front door. Kenma was asleep, his face buried in his shoulder, lithe fingers clutching at the back of Kuroo's shirt, his chest rising and falling steadily. Kuroo looked down at his lover, defenceless and vulnerable in his arms, and yet still trusting someone he had only met barely an hour ago. It feels like I’ve known him forever, though.

He could understand how Kenma was so comfortable. As soon as their eyes had met, Kuroo had felt like he was...home. Like he was finally where he belonged, back home after years and years and years abroad. But in all honesty, sitting on the floor wasn’t all that comfortable, especially while partially supporting the weight of a (somewhat) small human being, and his butt was starting to hurt. “Kenma,” he whispered hesitantly, still unsure if he should disturb the pudding-haired man when he looked so peaceful. 

Kenma stirred. “Hmm?”

“I’m sorry for waking you kitten, but I want to show you something.”

“Hmm…” Kenma drowsily lifted his head from Kuroo’s shoulder before his eyes went wide. “Oh! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep— You were just so warm and—”

“I know,” Kuroo chuckled. “It feels like home, doesn’t it?” They smiled at each other as Kenma nodded. “Also, I’m not complaining at all, but is it just me or are you... chattier than you used to be?” 

Kenma’s brows furrowed contemplatively. “I didn’t realise… I was doing it subconsciously, I guess. Maybe it’s because I promised myself that I wouldn’t take you for granted ever again.”

Kitten… Kuroo felt his chest contract, the air in his lungs puffing out in a slow hiss through his nose. He adjusted Kenma sideways in his lap, sliding one arm under his knees and one behind his back. He got up carefully, walking to the balcony and clutching his still-sleepy lover close to his chest. 

Kenma swung his legs in the air playfully. “Where are we...” he yawned, “going?”

“Just outside,” Kuroo replied, staring down at him fondly. He slid aside the glass door that led to the fairy-light-lit space (he’d purposely decorated it that way because it reminded him of The Owl’s Nest), setting Kenma down on his favourite plush, squishy couch with cotton covers and a rustic woven-straw frame. The technologist woke up a little more, slightly more alert when he realised that this was what Kuroo wanted to show him. He looked up, gazing at the perfect view of the moon and stars.

The astrologer plopped himself down beside him, looking up at the starry sky in awe. “We used to sit on our balcony just like this, do you remember? We’d just sit there in silence, and sometimes we’d—” 

“—asleep under the stars,” Kenma finished for him, smiling. 

Kuroo pulled a long, thin silver chain out from under his T-shirt. It was obvious that something was hanging on it from the way it was weighed down, and when Kuroo reached back to unclasp the necklace and stretch it out between his hands in front of him, Kenma could see that that something was a ring. Kuroo carefully slipped it off and clipped the necklace back around his neck, holding the silver band up in the moonlight. It was delicate, plain, just solid silver with no detailing or gems at all, but there was something indescribably beautiful about its simplicity. Kuroo smiled wistfully. “When I was a child, in this lifetime, of course, my mother gave me this ring after my father passed away. It was her wedding ring. She loved my father more than anything, and she told me to give this to the one person I truly loved.” 

Kenma’s mouth went dry. Please tell me this is going where I think it’s going. 

“Kenma… I was going to propose that night, so many years ago. I missed my chance, but I guess the gods have deemed me worthy enough to bless me with another one. I know we’ve only just met in this lifetime, but I have no doubt that I love you, Kozume Kenma, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, however long that may be. Will you marry me?” Kenma stared up at Kuroo as his lip started to tremble, and a sob burst from his chest. Needless to say, Kuroo immediately started to panic. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t— Please don’t cry, you don’t have to say—” 

“Yes,” Kenma was crying so hard, he was barely discernible to his own ears. He swallowed and tried again. “Yes,” he managed to choke out, nodding fiercely. Tackling Kuroo sideways onto the couch, he buried his face in Kuroo’s shoulder, both arms around his neck and pillowing his head. “I love you. And yes, I will marry you, Kuroo Tetsurou.” Kuroo was crying too, now, his relieved, breathless chuckles vibrating through his chest. He slowly sat both of them up, letting Kenma settle comfortably in his lap with slim legs folded on either side of his thighs. Gently, he grabbed Kenma’s left hand, sliding the slender wedding band onto his fourth finger. Somehow (or maybe it was meant to be), the ring fit perfectly. Kenma smiled dazedly. “I’m Kuroo Kenma now. I never thought that I would find you, and now we’re engaged.” He looked into Kuroo’s expressive hazel eyes. “I love you.” He leaned up, pressing a delicate kiss to his fiancee’s lips. 

Kuroo smiled, wrapping both his arms around Kenma’s back. “I love you more.” 

“Hmm. We’ll see,” Kenma said mysteriously. 

“Was that a challenge?” Kuroo asked, pulling back and raising an eyebrow. 

“Yes,” Kenma smirked victoriously as Kuroo muffled his groan with a clenched jaw when he rolled his hips forward. 

“Kenma— Kitten, slow down—” Kuroo squirmed as Kenma leaned forward and mouthed at his jawline, nibbling lightly. 

“Why? Too much for you to handle already?” 

“No, hold on, I’m sorry, Kenma, I didn’t— I didn’t wait… For you.” 

“You didn’t... wait? What do you mean?” Kenma asked in confusion, pulling back to study Kuroo’s face.

Kuroo looked supremely uncomfortable. “I’m not… I’m not pure. I thought that I wouldn’t ever see you again, and for a time, I wanted to... forget. I—” 

“...Tetsu. It’s okay. That doesn’t matter to me.”

“But it’s not fair to you! Wh—”

“How do you know that I’m pure, then? Would you be angry if I wasn’t?”

Kuroo looked horrified at the very idea of being angry at Kenma. “Of course not! I would have loved being your first, but it wouldn’t matter to me if I wasn’t. I’d still love you just as much, it wouldn’t change anything.”

“Exactly,” Kenma stated matter-of-factly, one palm flat on each side of Kuroo’s face, holding his head in place. “All I care about is us, here, now. Just us. Don’t think about anything or anyone else. Just focus on me, Tetsu.” 

Kuroo’s gaze scanned across Kenma’s face, across the resolution and love that set his features. “...If it makes you happy.” 

“It does. And for the record,” Kenma looked to the side, a delicate pink blush gracing his defined cheekbones, “I am pure. You’re gonna be my first. In this lifetime, at least.” 

Kuroo felt his heart swell. He had so many things he wanted to say; That he was honoured, that he would take care of Kenma as well as he could, that he would make it as painless as possible, but he was too busy trying not to cry to say anything, for once. His only answer was to pull Kenma flush against him, to duck his head down and pepper kisses all over his lover’s blushing face. 

Kenma could feel Kuroo hardening beneath him; It was kind of difficult not to, what with how close they were pressed together. He slipped a hand between their bodies, reaching for the zipper of Kuroo’s jeans before he felt Kuroo sliding big, warm palms under his thighs, intending to carry him again, probably to his bedroom. He wrapped his fingers around his fiancee’s forearm. “Tetsu… Can we stay out here?” He fluttered his lashes in a way that he knew Kuroo wouldn’t be able to resist (Kenma was speaking from personal experience here. Every time he had used that trump card in his past life with Kuroo, he hadn’t been able to walk the next day). Kuroo blinked in surprise. “But— Kitten, aren’t you worried that people are gonna, y’know,” he made a vague gesture with his hands, “see us?” 

“I’ve been waiting for you for seven hundred years, Tetsu. Let me have this,” Kenma whined, giving Kuroo the puppy eyes (his other infallible secret weapon; Those eyes had gotten him more than a few new games and Nintendo Switches). “Besides, we’re so high up, it’s practically impossible for anyone to see anything. And even if they could… Let them look. Let them look all they want. I don’t care.” 

“But—” 

“I really don’t care right now, Tetsurou. I love you and I want you. That’s all I know. So are you gonna fuck me or not?” 

Kuroo felt that was doing remarkably well in restraining himself from tossing Kenma onto the couch and fucking the living daylights out of him until he was moaning and screaming his name. He let out a strangled chuckle. “...Ah, well, what did I expect. You always were a little exhibitionist. Remember that time we fucked right in the middle of the gym floor after volleyball practice because you were horny?” 

Kenma gave his chest a half-hearted whack with a flick of his wrist, glossy lips twisting into an adorable pout. “Shut up and kiss me.” 

Kuroo was never able to deny Kenma anything. 

He slid his hands back from under Kenma’s plush thighs to his ass, trailing gentle fingers up to the small of his back and around his waist. Kenma scrunched his nose, obviously impatient. Adorable. Kuroo leaned down and nipped at Kenma’s mouth, tongue licking between his lips, all while his fingers undid Kenma’s black skinny jeans. 

“Mmm— Tetsu—” Kenma mumbled against Kuroo’s lips, eyelids already lowering to half-mast. “Stop teasing— Ha—” He panted softly, throwing his head back as Kuroo slid his jeans partway down his thighs and stroked teasing fingers across the hard bulge in his boxers. Rutting forwards into Kuroo’s palm, he shivered at the friction, hands on Kuroo’s shoulders and his eyes sliding closed. He whined when Kuroo pulled his hand away, only for his eyes to widen in anticipation as his fiancee brought three fingers to his mouth and tugged his boxers down with the other hand. “Fuck, Tetsu— gah!” Kenma’s eyes slid shut and snapped wide open almost immediately as Kuroo eased a tentative, saliva-slick finger into his ass, the other wrapping around his twitching, weeping cock. “Tetsu… Tetsu—”

“Are you okay? Talk to me, kitten.” Kuroo stilled, fully aware of his overly-hot dick just under the waistband of his own jeans. 

Kenma looked up at him with golden eyes glassed over in lust. “More.”

Alright then. Kuroo slid his finger all the way in, pumping Kenma’s length in his left hand at the same time, his pupils dilating at the alluring whine that left Kenma’s throat. He could tell it hurt a little from the way Kenma’s brow scrunched up, but Kenma didn’t seem to mind. 

“More. More, Tetsu. I want everything. All of you.”

“Not yet, kitten. I need to make sure you’re ready first.”

“But—”

“Kenma, I have the honour of being your first, and I’ll be damned if I don’t make tonight the best night of your life. I want to make sure that you can take all of me without it hurting. And trust me, there’s a lot to take,” Kuroo whispered, smirking and leaning forward to lick a stripe up the exposed column of Kenma’s pale, unblemished neck. It seemed to satisfy Kenma for the time being when he slid in a second finger, giving his length a few more strokes.

Kenma wasn’t sure how to feel about the whole situation. It certainly wasn’t bad, but the stretch burned a little too much for his liking, and— “A-ah! Again, there, again, again—” Kenma cried out as Kuroo added his third finger and brushed against a spot that had lightning crackling up and down his spine. 

“Here?” Kuroo asked teasingly, thrusting in again and purposely missing Kenma’s prostate. He knew Kenma was truly ready when the blond-haired man took matters into his own hands (legs?) and started to fucking bounce. Looking at Kenma, rising on his knees and falling back down just to fuck himself on Kuroo’s fingers and into his fist, his entire body gilded by silvery moonlight and framed by the starry night sky, eyes fluttering and head thrown back in ecstasy, Kuroo was sure that this was his compensation for giving up all his years in Nirvana in favour of being reincarnated immediately. There was no other reason that he’d be allowed to watch, and not to mention touch such a beautiful creature. 

“I’m— I’m ready,” Kenma panted, his hair sticking to his sweaty face as he dropped his head forward to look at Kuroo. “I’m ready.” Looking into Kuroo’s eyes, he slid both palms downwards slowly, from his shoulders to his chest to his ripped abs, and finally down to the button at the opening of his jeans. Kenma could feel Kuroo pressing into his thigh, and he reached for his waistband, undoing buttons and zippers and sliding his hand down until he could feel Kuroo’s deliciously long, thick length resting heavily in his palm. Kenma pulled him out, pumping him a few times after spitting on his palm, brushing a thumb over the swollen head and relishing in Kuroo’s barely-muffled hiss. 

Kuroo moved his hands up to Kenma’s hips, slick fingers digging into the soft flesh. “I love you, Kenma. So much.”

Kenma’s chest heaved as he raised himself over Kuroo’s hard cock, lining it up with his stretched asshole. “I think it’s a tie for now.” And with that, he sank down.

“Slowly, slowly! Jesus christ—” Kuroo hissed as Kenma lowered himself onto his cock, sinking down around him inch by inch and enveloping him in tight, wet heat, stopping when Kuroo's considerable length was fully sheathed inside him. This was nothing like the sex Kuroo knew. Before, sex was just a physical thing for him, an easy way to get pleasure and deal with his body’s biological needs. But this. This felt like he had finally found a piece of himself he was previously convinced that he didn’t need. A piece that he had trained himself to live without, that he had convinced himself was unnecessary. He had underestimated how good it would feel to be whole again, after centuries without his missing piece. Without Kenma. It wasn’t just physical, his soul felt whole, his entire being imbued with light. So this is what home feels like. 

His thighs flexing, Kenma slowly raised himself off Kuroo's cock, clenching and sliding back down again, whining as he was filled to bursting in the best of ways. More. I need more. Kenma took a moment to compose himself and reposition his legs before he raised himself and dropped back down, his ass slapping against Kuroo's thighs. Again. Kenma sped up, fucking himself on Kuroo's girth, thighs spread wide open, his neglected dick bouncing against his stomach. If Kuroo thought that Kenma sounded alluring before, he now sounded downright sinful. His lover was riding Kuroo like there was no tomorrow, impaling himself as hard as he could. And yet he still couldn’t get enough. “More,” Kenma pleaded, his voice shaky. “More, I need— Tetsu, help me—” He slammed his hips down, a sweet whine spilling from his lips and rendering the last of Kuroo’s self-control useless. His original plan was to go slow, to be gentle, but it all went straight out the window (or the balcony, you could say) when he saw Kenma bouncing on his cock, arms trembling, taking him all the way to hilt and still begging for more. It was Kenma’s first time, but how could Kuroo deny him when his kitten begged so sweetly? Letting a groan spill from his lips, Kuroo thrust upwards just as Kenma slammed himself down again, pride bubbling in his chest at the choked borderline scream that escaped from his fiancee. Kenma was desperately trying not to come from just the feeling of Kuroo inside him alone. He wasn’t lying when he said there would be a lot to take. Kenma could feel his insides getting stirred up by his huge cock, stretching him out more than he could ever imagine was possible. 

“Don’t be mad if you can’t walk tomorrow,” Kuroo growled, roughly pulling Kenma’s thighs further apart. He lifted Kenma up with his hands on his ass, slamming inside. He knew he had hit Kenma’s prostate because his fiancee arched his back and screamed, really screamed, the sound echoing into the night. He knew that his neighbours would definitely have heard, but that just added to the thrill and spurred him on to fuck Kenma even harder. He was right. Let them hear, let them see. Let them all know. I don’t care. Not when I have him by my side. He drew out and thrust back in again, pounding into Kenma and abusing his prostate, groaning as his lover screamed and writhed and tightened around him. 

"Harder, fuck me h-harder, please— Fuck me so hard I can't see, until I never forget what your cock feels like inside of me, I— Oh fuck, Tetsu!" Kenma sobbed as Kuroo dug strong fingers into the flesh of his ass, pulling his cheeks apart and forcing him down as he bucked his hips up, thrusting hard. 

"Am I fucking you rough enough now? Who knew you were such a little slut, look at you, drooling and begging for my cock," Kuroo snarled, but there was no venom behind his words, just adoration. 

“Tet-Tetsu— I— I want— I want your cum, give me you cum, I— Oh fuck, Tetsu, Tetsu, Tetsurou!” Kenma was babbling nonsensically, but to be fair he was having his brains fucked out. His body spasmed as he finally came, back arching against Kuroo's arms, ribbons of cum decorating Kuroo’s grey T-shirt, his ass tight around his lover's cock. He clenched down so hard that Kuroo felt like his orgasm was literally pulled out of him, wrenching a cry from his throat as he pumped Kenma full to bursting with his cum. 

The both of them panted, their hearts slowing down in the afterglow. Kuroo breathed out a shaky laugh, tugging his soiled shirt over his head and haphazardly tossing it aside before nuzzling his face into Kenma’s shoulder. He leaned into Kuroo, snuggling close as he felt his lover hook his chin over his shoulder. Neither of them needed to say anything to get their messages across. I love you. I love you. I love you. Suddenly catching sight of something in the sky, Kuroo straightened up, his eyes wide. “Kitten, look. Up there. It’s a shooting star! There, you see?” He looked puzzled when Kenma didn’t even bother turning around, instead opting to keep gazing into his hazel eyes. “Don’t you want to see it?” 

At that, Kenma giggled gently. “Why would I need to see it when something even more rare and precious is in front of me?” As he watched Kuroo smile, closing his eyes and ducking his head down to press a soft kiss to Kenma’s shoulder, he decided not to mention the fact that he had already seen one before, so many lifetimes ago. But then he realised; The lack of communication was what caused that fight in the first place. ...There’s no way in hell I’m gonna let that happen again. “Kuroo… That night, when the accident happened—” Kenma shushed Kuroo as he tried to interrupt. “Let me finish— Let me finish! That night… The accident was my fault. After you went out, I was on the balcony, and a shooting star passed by, and I made a wish. For you to leave me alone. I’m sorry, I know I was selfish and unfair, and ungrateful and a horrible boyfriend, and—” Kenma tried to swallow the hard lump in his throat when he realised that Kuroo hadn’t reacted whatsoever. 

He slowly started to pull back before Kuroo’s arms yanked him forward against his solid chest, pulling him in and holding him close. “It’s okay, kitten. I have you now,” he whispered tenderly into Kenma’s hair. “We have each other now. That’s all that matters, isn’t it?” He nuzzled his cheek against the top of Kenma’s head, arms wrapped securely around his back.

Kenma nodded slowly, wiggling around until he was comfortably flush against Kuroo’s chest, a tear slipping down his cheek. “That’s all that matters.” That’s all that matters.