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“From the day you’re born, you have a countless number of strings wrapped around the ring finger on your right hand. These strings extend out to all of your potential soulmates. As you grow and make choices in life, one by one the strings will slowly begin to fall away until you’re left with one. At that point, your one true soulmate will be waiting for you on the other side.”
A Red String’s Guide for Children: An Introduction to Soulmates by Amy Wren
-
Kenma stared at the strings that winded from the bottom of his ring finger to right below his nail bed. His parents had fully broken down the idea of soulmates to him just a few days ago, but even after an hour-long conversation he still didn’t really get it.
The only reason he’d even asked them about it was because someone had brought it up in class, and Kenma hadn’t realized how little he knew about the subject until everyone had started piping up with their own opinions. The teacher got them to all settle down quickly, but it hadn’t stopped Kenma from taking in an overload of information.
So, once he arrived home after his short walk from his elementary school, he’d gone to the kitchen and promptly asked his mother to explain everything he needed to know about soulmates.
“Everything?” his mother had asked with a single raised brow. “You never showed an interest before, and now you want to know everything?”
“We talked about it at school today,” Kenma said as he furrowed his brow and tried to remember what his classmates had brought up. “Everyone else seemed to know, and I don’t want to mess up and say something wrong if someone asks.”
“So this isn’t about a crush,” his mother teased and Kenma scrunched his nose in response. Why would he ever have a crush? From what he did know about soulmates, the whole point was to avoid ever having to deal with anything like that.
His mother laughed at his reaction, and gave him a fond smile. “Okay, we can talk about soulmates. But we’ll do it after dinner, once your father gets home.”
And just a few short hours later, his parents were sitting him down and walking him through the ins and outs of the red strings wrapped tight across his finger. They’d cleared up that there was no way to cheat the system, and that no one knew which choices were the ones that would cause a string to fall, but there were a lot of things that even they didn’t know the answer to.
And now, the weekend after that conversation, Kenma was lying in his bed after losing for the fourth time on his new computer game, and wondering about the questions his parents weren’t able to help him with.
Like why the string didn’t feel like anything.
Kenma knew that the question probably wasn’t what most people were concerned about. But it was weird . He had a string that covered almost his entire finger, but it didn’t feel like there was anything there at all. But what if it was affecting his finger in some way? What if it was so tight it caused it to be stiff? Or somehow made that finger slower than all the others?
And this was very important, because what if that was the reason why Kenma hadn’t been able to beat the final boss in his new game.
“Kenma! Please come downstairs.”
Kenma rolled over onto his side and glared at the door. It wasn’t dinner time and it was a weekend. He should be allowed to hole up in his room for as long as he wants.
But he wasn’t about to risk his mother’s wrath for that.
Dragging himself out of bed, he slowly made his way downstairs, not giving much thought as to what his mother might have called him down for. As he landed on the final step, and rounded the corner toward the kitchen, he immediately regretted his lack of forethought.
“Kenma, there you are,” his mother said in that sweet tone she used when she wanted Kenma to make a new friend. “Come here, I want you to meet the Kuroo family.”
Kenma shuffled his way closer, but made sure to use his mother’s body as a shield. The strange man standing in his hallway seemed nice enough, but who he was more concerned about was the small boy with the wild hair standing behind him.
“I’m sorry, he’s a bit shy,” his mother said, the line well-rehearsed by now. Kenma barely even felt guilty anymore hearing the phrase nowadays.
“Oh, Tetsurou is just the same!” the man said, his voice heavy with relief and Kenma resisted the urge to squint his eyes. Why was he relieved? That just meant neither of them were going to talk to each other.
“Kenma, why don’t you take Tetsu-kun up to your room and play a game with him,” Kenma’s mother suggested in that tone that made it clear it wasn’t a suggestion at all. Honestly, for all his mother’s complaints about his attitude, she had to have some idea of who he got it from.
He glanced over at the other boy, who looked just as reluctant to come up to Kenma’s room as Kenma felt about having a stranger in his room, and huffed quietly. Guess he was going to have to take the lead in this.
Tilting his head towards the stairs, Kenma waited until he hesitantly stepped from behind his dad’s legs before leading the way up the stairs. Halfway up, he grimaced when he remembered the state of his room. He hadn’t been expecting visitors and had his games and toys spread out all over the place. He tried to ignore the voice in the back of his head that reminded him that was the point of cleaning his room every day. It sounded too much like his mother.
“I’m Kuroo, by the way,” the boy - Kuroo - mumbled as they made it to the top of the stairwell. Kenma looked back at him, and his eyes wandered yet again to the mess of hair on his head.
“Kuro,” Kenma said absentmindedly, gaze still lingering on Kuroo’s hair until he realized he had actually spoken out loud. Kenma’s eyes went wide and he could feel heat collecting in his cheeks. Why had he said that?
“Kuro’s okay too!” Kuroo was looking at Kenma with eyes just as wide. He looked so nervous, and was obviously just trying to appease Kenma, and Kenma wished he could simply bite his tongue off so he’d never have to speak again.
Without giving a proper response, Kenma ducked his head and continued leading them to his room at the end of the hall. His hand hesitating only once before the doorknob, Kenma opened the door to his room and avoided looking at Kuroo so he wouldn’t have to see his reaction to the mess.
Instead, he himself catalogued his unmade bed, the clothes he had piling in the corner, and the open game cases piling up around his television. The longer the Kuroo just stood quietly, the more Kenma noticed another thing wrong with his room. He tugged anxiously at the end of his shirt, hoping Kuroo would just say something . After the silence became unbearable, he finally looked over at Kuroo and found him staring at his console with a tilt to his head.
Kenma looked between the console and Kuroo a couple of times before he finally released his grip on his shirt.
“Did you want to play something?” Kuroo’s head whipped around to look at Kenma, and Kenma resisted the instinct to take a couple of steps back. “I have a few that are multiplayer...if you want?”
Kuroo nodded quickly, and Kenma let himself settle into the familiarity of setting up a game. He made sure the television was at the right source, and went to plug in his controller before he realized he would need his second one.
Kenma paused, before pulling the second controller from the bottom drawer. It was completely untouched, and the only reason Kenma had even thought to ask for it was as a back-up in case his current one ever broke.
He never really expected to have someone to play with. And handing the now plugged in controller to Kuroo, he realized he liked the idea more than he’d ever expected.
Crawling onto his bed, he watched out the corner of his eyes as Kuroo scooted closer to the tv from his place on the floor. He turned his attention back to the screen, and couldn’t help the way his blood started rushing as the start screen of the fighting game he’d chosen started up.
Kenma knew that the polite thing to do would be to go easy on Kuroo. He literally just met the boy ten minutes ago, so he really shouldn’t be going all out against him in this game. But Kenma liked this game a lot, and had never had to back down before, so he wasn’t going to do it now.
Plus, a small part of him wanted to impress Kuroo too.
And hopefully that was what he managed to do, because it took Kenma less than a minute to deliver a combo that had Kuroo’s character flying off the screen.
“That was so fast!” Kuroo exclaimed, head going and back and forth between Kenma and the screen as he waited for his character to appear again at the top of the stage. “You’re really good!”
Kenma ducked his head, and tried to bite back his smile. Most people weren’t really impressed by his gaming.
Once Kuroo’s character reappeared, it was harder for Kenma to kill him this time. Not because Kuroo had gotten better, but because he was successfully running, jumping, and dodging all of Kenma’s attacks.
“I should’ve put a timer,” Kenma grumbled as Kuroo’s character jumped just out of reach again. At this rate, this round was going to last forever.
“I can’t believe you haven’t managed to beat my strategy yet.” Kenma pursed his lips, somehow able to hear the smile in Kuroo’s voice. He felt himself lean closer to the screen, waiting for the moment Kuroo would slip up.
“I’d hardly call this a strategy, Kuroo,” Kenma replied, careful to call him by his real name. Hopefully, that little act of respect would lessen the fact that Kenma was technically insulting him.
Kuroo’s character faltered, and Kenma jumped at the opportunity. Landing some quick aerial attacks, Kenma grabbed hold of Kuroo’s character and launched him off-screen yet again.
His lip twitched up, and when he glanced at Kuroo to gauge his reaction to his second kill, he was surprised to see Kuroo already looking at him with a shy smile.
“You, uh, you can keep calling me Kuro, if you want,” Kuroo said as he scratched at the back of his neck. His eyes trailed away from Kenma’s and Kenma was taken aback yet again at how shy the boy was. “I’ve never had a nickname before, so it’d be kind of cool.”
Kenma hadn’t intended on making it a nickname for the other boy, but he also has no qualms about it either. “Okay, Kuro.” Kuroo beamed and Kenma turned back to the screen, unable to meet Kuroo’s eyes as he continued, “You can call me Kenma.”
Guess Kuroo wasn’t the only one just a touch too shy.
“Okay, Kenma,” Kuroo said, and Kenma almost smiled at how natural the name sounded from Kuroo. He didn’t hesitate like other people his age would sometimes have. That easy comfortability made Kenma feel much less guilty about crushing Kuroo so ruthlessly.
Unfortunately, Kuroo was back to his run and jump method. The more he managed to evade Kenma the more frustrated he became. Trying to anticipate his next move, Kenma jumped preemptively, and he grinned as he landed an attack on Kuroo’s character. Fully prepared to take advantage of this, Kenma made his character jump again at Kuroo’s character, ready for him to do the same move again.
Except he didn’t. Kenma watched, in what felt like slow motion, as his character dashed over Kuroo’s character and off the screen.
There was a beat of silence, and then Kuroo was laughing, and laughing, and laughing. It wasn’t even close to being the nicest sounding laugh in the world. It sounded closer to a donkey braying than the jingling of bells, but Kenma was surprised to find that he didn’t mind it.
He actually kind of liked it.
It was that thought that lingered in Kenma’s mind as he continued to beat Kuroo in that round and every round after. He wasn’t used to being around other people and liking it, but somehow Kuroo was the exception. And despite the fact he had only brought him up because his mother had told him to, he wasn’t against Kuroo coming around again. He wasn’t against it at all.
And since he’d been the one to get them this far, he figured he was going to have to be the one to say something about it happening again. But just as he was building the confidence to say the words, Kuroo turned to look at him.
“This is really fun.” He was doing the thing where he wasn’t meeting Kenma’s eyes again, and Kenma felt himself relax a bit knowing he wasn’t the only one nervous about their blossoming friendship. “If it’s okay...could I come over again.”
“I wouldn’t mind it,” Kenma replied, ducking his head so Kuroo wouldn’t see his small smile. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t want him to see it, but Kuroo was still too new and too unknown for Kenma to be completely unguarded around.
Kuroo either didn’t notice, or didn’t feel the need to point it out. Kenma was grateful either way.
From that day forward, a trend started. Kuroo would come over to play videogames, and slowly the two got to know each other better. Kuroo learned that Kenma had certain games he liked to play over others, and Kenma noticed that Kuroo’s eyes never lingered on whatever mess may be in his room. Every day, they became more and more comfortable in each other’s presence.
Comfortable enough that when Kuroo brings up playing volleyball one sunny afternoon, Kenma couldn’t really find it in him to say no.
And oh , did he regret that about ten minutes into the activity.
“You look so stiff doing it,” Kuroo laughed as the ball hit Kenma for the fifth time that day. He was seriously considering just chucking the ball at Kuroo’s face, but he was self-aware enough to know he’d probably miss.
He simply settled for glaring. “You don’t look any better.”
Kenma wasn’t even being petty either. Volleyball was such a weird sport, and required the strangest poses to get the ball to move how it was supposed to. Kenma doubted there was a way to play the sport without looking awkward.
“That’s just because we’re still learning - pros who play never look awkward!” Kenma blinked. Kuroo had pretty much read his mind. “We should watch a game together one day, and you’ll see.”
Kenma fought back a grimace. Watching volleyball implied playing the game itself even more, and if today was anything to go by, it was probably for the best that Kenma nipped this in the bud early.
“What’s that face for?” Kenma jolted. He hadn’t even been aware his facial expression had changed. Kuro was still frowning at him, and likely fully expected some explanation.
“I’m just not sure I’m the best person to play volleyball with…” Kenma trailed off as disappointment started registering on Kuroo’s face.
“Why not? You’ll be so good at it, I know it!”
“I only hit the ball right five times today, Kuro.”
“I didn’t even hit it the right way once the first time I played!” Kenma narrowed his eyes at Kuroo, and he immediately averted his gaze. “Okay, so maybe I did, but that’s not all volleyball’s about! It also needs strategy and you’re so good at that!”
Kenma sighed. Kuroo was obviously reaching at this point. He picked up the ball and started walking away from the net. “It’s getting late. We should probably start heading home.”
The silence that blanketed over them as they started the walking was nothing like the comfortable one Kenma had gotten used to. He bit his lip, trying to think of what to say. It wasn’t just that he didn’t really want to play volleyball. It was also the fact that it was only a matter of time before Kuroo realized Kenma wasn’t the best person to play with.
All he had to do was make Kuroo see it now.
“School is starting soon, right?” Kenma kept his eyes trained in front of him, even as he felt Kuroo’s gaze turn to look at him.
“Yeah?”
“And so you’re probably going to make some friends,” Kenma continued with a quick glance to Kuroo. The other boy looked surprised at his words, but Kenma was confident about this. Once Kuroo started talking to people, his classmates were all going to start flocking him. He was that kind of person.
“You are,” Kenma answered for him, rolling his eyes at Kuroo’s embarrassed blush. “And then when you have them, you won’t need me to play volleyball with anymore.”
“Wait, wait.” Kuroo came to a complete stop and turned to face Kenma fully. “Even if I have other friends, I’m still going to want to play volleyball with you .”
Kenma looked at him in complete confusion. “Why?”
Kuroo looked back just as confused. “Why not?”
And Kenma could come up with a million reasons why not. He wasn’t very good at it for one. He also couldn’t play for very long before needing a break, and Kenma doubted Kuroo was going to convince him to play every time. There had to be other kids who would be stronger or smarter or just more enthusiastic about it that would make better volleyball partners for Kuroo.
But by the look on Kuroo’s face, Kenma had a feeling that none of those reasons would get through to him. He looked so sure, more sure than Kenma had been about anything in his own life, that Kenma would be the one he’d play volleyball with.
“Okay,” Kenma said softly, finally turning away from Kuroo. Quickly, before he continued walking again, he clarified, “We can keep playing together.”
Kenma didn’t check to see how long Kuroo stayed frozen behind him, but it was only a couple of seconds before he was by his side again, talking about some volleyball camp he wanted to check out. Kenma let him talk to his heart’s content, and wondered when he’d gotten so used to the sound of Kuroo’s voice.
That night, as he lay in bed, Kenma found his mind wandering to the idea of soulmates for just the second time in his very short life.
Rolling onto his side, Kenma studied the red thread wrapping its way up his finger. He couldn’t tell if it had gotten any shorter since the last time he inspected it, and he furrowed his brows at the realization.
He’d never liked people much. He always doubted himself around them, and always felt uncomfortable in his own skin.
But with Kuroo, that wasn’t the case at all. For the first time, Kenma felt like someone was happy to have him around, instead of simply sticking around due to a sense of obligation.
Soulmates also had never seemed very appealing to Kenma. The idea that there was one person out there for him out of the seemingly endless number of strings he had now seemed unlikely. And the fact that it was the choices he made and the actions he took that would determine who would be waiting for him at the end of the day sounded like more pressure than he wanted to deal with.
To be honest, the whole thing seemed like more effort than it was worth.
But if his soulmate was Kuroo, Kenma thinks he could look past all that. He closed his eyes, and for the first time in his short life, felt something other than apathy towards the red string that blanketed most of his right ring finger in red.
Kenma was seven, and he was certain of one thing. He wanted Kuroo Tetsurou to be his soulmate.
-
“Surveys and studies conducted in the past century have concluded there is no set number of strings that everyone starts off with. Self-report surveys show that some people are born with too many to count, while others have been recorded saying they had as few as ten. While there’s no way to outwardly confirm this since each person is the only one able to see their own strings, there is a consensus that everyone is born with at least more than three strings.”
The (Un)Certainty in Red String Research by Madeline Nekurok
-
Kenma wished that when his class had extra time at the end of the day, his teacher would just let them all go early instead of telling them to just socialize with each other.
He also wished it was acceptable for him to just lay down his head and nap until the final bell rang for the day. As it were, he was left just staring at the wood grain on his desk until the school day finally ended.
Middle school hadn’t been too bad when he first arrived. It felt almost unbearable now that Kuroo was gone. They only ever were able to see each other during lunch and practice, but just knowing his best friend was somewhere on the campus settled Kenma. Now he had to wait until both he and Kuroo finished volleyball practice before being able to see him; and since Kuroo’s practice ran longer, Kenma ended up not getting home until way later than he’d like.
Kenma was already feeling so tired today too. Eyes wondering his gaze landed on his string, and then he remembered. He didn’t have to wait for Kuroo today! He was going on a date with some girl from his class. And while walking home alone wasn’t his favorite thing ever, this did mean he was going to be able to be home and in his bed even earlier than he’d thought.
Maybe he could even skip practice this afternoon…
“Kozume-kun.”
Kenma whipped his head up to see his classmate Ayumi standing over his desk. The only reason he even knew the girl’s name was because she made it very difficult not to. She wasn’t loud, but she did have a tendency to speak often and passionately about the things she deemed important.
He had no idea why she was talking to him right now.
“We’re playing a game, and you’re the only person I’m missing,” Ayumi said by way of explanation. Kenma did not like how ominous that sentence sounded at all, and found himself leaning away instinctively.
“What game?” Kenma looked out at his classmates as he spoke, and noticed for the first time that they were all crowded together in groups. He swallowed at the sight, but looked back at Ayumi’s at the sound of her put off sigh.
“The string guessing game,” Ayumi said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It was not. Kenma hoped the look on his face made that clear, and if her impatient huff was anything to go by, he’d wager it was.
“It’s easy, all you have to do is hold out your ring finger, and I have to guess where your string is still up to.” She gestured as she explained, sticking out her ring finger and pointing to where Kenma assumed her own string stopped wrapping around her finger. “So far I’ve guessed almost everyone’s correctly.”
Kenma almost raised an impressed eyebrow. Stupid game or not, that level of luck was almost admirable.
“So now that just leaves you!” Ayumi looked rather proud of the fact, but Kenma just wished there was some way to get out of the situation. Unfortunately, the determined gleam in the girl’s eyes made it clear that wouldn’t be an option. “Now hold out your finger so I can guess where your thread is up to.” She narrowed her eyes at him and he reluctantly presented his ring finger to her. “And no cheating!”
Kenma blinked boredly. As if he cared enough about this to cheat.
Taking his silence as confirmation, Kenma watched as Ayumi studied his finger for a long time. It felt rather silly to see her stare so intently at something she was never going to be able to see, and the longer she stared, the more Kenma wanted to shift in his seat. He was about to pull his hand back, more willing to deal with her pouting than her intense examination, when she nodded resolutely and pointed just above his highest knuckle.
“There, your soul thread is up to here!” She was smiling so confidently Kenma almost wanted to lie and tell her she was right.
But she had insisted on no cheating.
“It’s lower than that.” Ayumi turned to him in shock and Kenma averted his gaze from her before pointing a centimeter or so above the halfway point on his finger. “This is where my string stops.”
“Aw, I wasn’t even close!” Ayumi said with a huff as she sat in the empty seat in front of him. Kenma tried not to frown too obviously as he realized she wasn’t leaving yet. “I didn’t think you did enough for your string to be so low.”
Kenma figured he should be offended, but it wasn’t like Ayumi knew anything about him. She only had her perception of him from school to base her guess off, and that barely even scratched the surface with him. That still didn’t mean he liked the idea of her paying any level of attention to him.
He shrugged.
“What did you do to get it so low?” Ayumi leaned in close, whispering the words as if it was some sacred secret.
“I didn’t do anything,” Kenma said as he lowered himself in his seat. Ayami was staring at him without blinking and Kenma hated it. He now kind of understood what Kuroo meant when he said Kenma’s gaze could be unnerving. “It just did it by itself.”
“You’re so lucky.” Ayumi sighed dreamily as she rested her elbow on his desk, and Kenma narrowed his eyes at how comfortable she looked. “You don’t have the shortest in the class - Shinobu has everyone beat - but it’s at least shorter than mine. I bet you must feel so happy about it!”
“I guess,” Kenma mumbled, hoping his lack of response was enough to finally drive the girl away.
“You guess?!” Great, he got her all worked up instead. “Aren’t you excited? You’re so close to finally meeting your soulmate! Soon, you won’t have to wonder or worry about it anymore - you’ll just have the person you’ve wanted and waited to love.”
Kenma furrowed his brows. He guessed that sounded nice in theory, but Kenma wasn’t waiting for some imaginary person. He already had Kuroo, and he knew he wanted Kuroo to be his soulmate. There was no waiting he needed to do, no ‘finally’ moment to be excited about.
And the love part -
Kenma blinked slowly. He hadn’t ever really considered that before. He knew that hadn’t been on his mind when he was a kid, but he was a little older now. And while he knew he wasn’t in love with Kuroo...
“What if you already have someone you want to be your soulmate?” Kenma asked shakily even though he had a feeling he already knew what the answer to that question was.
He’d never thought twice of wanting Kuroo to be his soulmate. It was just how it was. He’d decided it so long ago, he could barely even remember what triggered the thought.
All he knew was that it had felt right. That it had felt right, and that in all the years that had passed since the thought had first crossed his mind, Kenma hadn’t wavered once in his belief in it.
But he’d never really considered what that meant for him.
“Well then, you’d have a crush,” Ayumi said very matter-of-factly. Kenma felt his cheeks heat up at the thought alone, and he ducked his head so she wouldn’t notice. She continued without even a glance in his direction. “But my grandmother said crushes are very bad ideas. You shouldn’t be with anyone except for your soulmate, after all.”
Kenma scrunched his nose at the words. Old rules and traditional notions for soulmates never made any sense. For some people, dating helped them figure out the person they were and who they wanted to be with. Those choices were just as important as others.
That’s why Kuroo himself was okay with dating.
Kenma froze. Kuroo was dating. Kuroo was about to go on a date today. The guy he may or may not have a crush on was about to go on a date, and Kenma was suddenly feeling much less indifferent to it than before.
The bell finally rang to dismiss them from school, and Kenma felt disoriented as everyone around him moved quickly to leave while his own mind was moving at half speed.
And wasn’t this quite the time to have some revelation about his feelings. Because on the one hand, Kenma considered as he robotically began packing his things, Kuroo was literally about to go on a date. On the other, this meant that Kenma would actually have some time alone to think everything over without Kuroo’s overwhelming presence.
Kenma frowned. He’d never thought of Kuroo as overwhelming before. Annoying, yes. Obnoxious, absolutely. But it’s never been too much, and he didn’t want this crush to change anything.
But how had he even gotten a crush on Kuroo in the first place? Kenma tightened his grip on the straps of his bag, and tried tracing things back - all while actively avoiding the gym. There was no way in hell he was going to volleyball practice today.
The only reason he was still even on the team was because Kuroo was insistent on the fact that Kenma kept going so he could join him on the high school team. It was pretty much a given that Kenma was going to go to the same high school anyway.
Kenma faltered, almost stumbling over his own feet as his own thoughts fully registered. He knew, distantly, that he had been making choices that would make Kuroo being his soulmate more likely. Sure, there was now way of knowing which choices would be the ones to change his fate, but he was more willing to do something if it was Kuroo asking. But that had been controlled - those were decisions that he had been actively making.
He hadn’t really accounted for what spending all that time with Kuroo would do to him.
Because now, when Kuroo wasn’t with him, everything felt lacklustre. Middle school was where he felt this the most, but even now, walking home alone, Kenma felt just a touch off-kilter without his best friend at his side.
It was almost like he had slowly stopped making choices to get Kuroo as his soulmate, and started making choices just to be with Kuroo in general.
Kenma stopped cold in his tracks.
He had been pretty much setting himself up to fall for Kuroo. How embarrassing.
By the time he got to his house, Kenma's stomach felt like it was tangled up in the most complicated knot ever. He was glad both his parents were still at work as he made his way through his house and into his room to flop face-first onto his bed.
Groaning into his pillow, he tried to rationalize things a bit. So what if he had a crush on Kuroo? He’d been wanting Kuroo to be his soulmate for so long that it should hardly matter. Except it did, because now he was overthinking everything.
Did Kenma’s chest always warm at the thought of seeing Kuroo after a long day? Did he always look forward to talking with him in the comfort of his room? Was his crush causing all these feelings, and had he just simply disregarded them before?
God, how was he so dumb ? He needed to get these new feelings back under control. If he could ignore them before, he could ignore them once again.
Unfortunately, that plan was effectively tossed out the window once Kuroo came over after his date.
Kuroo walked in like he usually did, as if he belonged and there was no place else he’d rather be. He looked a bit windswept, his hair a touch messier than usual. The t-shirt he was wearing that was just a couple sizes too large on him and his sweatpants looked worn soft and made him look comfortable and inviting. Kenma wanted to sidle up next to him and just settle into his warmth.
This crush was the most inconvenient thing ever.
Kenma wasn’t able to dwell on that for long anyway, because once he dragged his eyes up to Kuroo’s face he noticed how troubled he looked.
He paused, waiting for Kuroo to say something to explain the expression on his face. But all Kuroo did was offer him a quick greeting, and make his way to his desk like he usually did on evenings like these.
Except Kuroo clearly hadn’t brought anything to work on, and was just sitting backwards in Kenma’s desk chair, bouncing his knee and scanning his room over and over again.
Kenma let out an annoyed sigh. It looked like he was going to have to be the one to broach the subject.
“How’d your date go?” Kenma asked, concentrating on keeping his voice steady and eyes trained on his comforter. Just because he was going to be a good friend did not mean this was going to be easy for him.
Kuroo finally stopped bouncing his knee, but he was still looking at anything but Kenma when he said, “It went well, I think. She was cool, and we had fun and everything.”
Kuroo cut off there and pressed his lips together thoughtfully. Kenma looked up to show that he was listening, but remained silent. Kuroo tended to speak more when unprompted.
“It was really good,” Kuroo repeated, and Kenma pretended like the twinge in his chest was from the fact that Kuroo still hadn’t gotten to the point and not from his words. “And we hugged at the end, and then I went home.”
Kuroo stopped again, and his knee started bouncing again. Kenma waited for him to speak again, but this time Kuroo stayed quiet as he kept his eyes trained on the floor.
Kenma refrained the urge to sigh again. He could just let Kuroo drop it - he had technically answered his question about how the date had gone. But there was still something he wanted to talk about, and Kenma wanted him to be able to get whatever it was off his chest.
If only Kuroo would stop being so difficult.
“So, are you planning on seeing her again?” Kenma was really just trying to say anything that would get Kuroo to talk more. It seemed like he stumbled on the right thing though, because suddenly Kuroo froze. All his fidgeting stopped, and he was instead staring at his hand. Or more specifically, he was staring at his ring finger.
Kenma tried not to think too much about what that could mean.
“The thing is,” Kuroo said shakily, and Kenma’s eyes widened. He’d never heard Kuroo sound so hesitant in his whole life. Kuroo heaved in a huge breath, and as he exhaled, he continued, “The thing is that when I got home everything was fine. But sometime between entering my room and changing out of my date clothes…” Kuroo shook his head slowly, before finally looking up at Kenma, his eyes wide. “Kenma...almost all my strings are gone.”
Kenma’s heart stopped.
“What?” Kenma breathed, eyes now trained on Kuroo’s finger and wishing more than anything for the ability to see another person’s string. “What do you mean they’re gone?”
“I mean they’re gone!” Kuroo exclaimed, jumping from the chair. He pulled at his hair in frustration, and Kenma’s lip parted in surprise at the state of distress his best friend seemed to be in. “I mean that one second I was opening the door and my strings were up here,” and Kuroo pointed just below his nail bed and Kenma blinked in surprise. It was rare to have so many strings left at his age. “And then I was pulling this shirt over my head, and now it's down here.”
Kuroo slid his left finger down until it was pointing just barely above his bottom most knuckle. Kenma’s eyes went huge.
“That’s...how many are even left?”
“There are still enough that it’s hard to focus on all of them and count them,” Kuroo said, staring at his finger. “But when I tried...it can’t be more than twenty left Kenma, and even that’s being generous.”
Twenty. Kenma had just figured out he liked Kuroo earlier that day, and now Kuroo had less than twenty strings left. Kenma wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer to this question, but his curiosity was killing him and he was opening his mouth before he could regret it.
Kenma’s heart squeezed in his chest. “Did you try following any of them?”
“Yeah,” Kuroo sighed. His entire body sagged. “Of course I did. It led me up the street until it got all tangled.”
Up the street. The opposite direction of where Kenma lived.
“And then I came here, because I don’t know what to do and I’m kind of freaking out,” Kuroo continued, oblivious to Kenma’s inner turmoil.
“Do you think it’s the girl?” Kenma asked quietly. He didn’t know why he was doing this to himself, asking Kuroo these questions that had a chance of breaking his own heart, but he couldn’t resist.
“No,” Kuroo replied confidently, and Kenma perked at this tone. “This happened when she was long from my mind, so I doubt it has anything to do with her.” Kuroo hesitated then, before absentmindedly placing his left hand over his heart. “Plus, it didn’t feel like it was her. I think when I meet someone who could be my soulmate, I’ll have a feeling or instinct or something . And I haven’t gotten that yet, with her or anyone else.”
And there was no way for Kuroo to know how deeply that cut at Kenma’s chest, but it did nonetheless. Kenma hadn’t known it was possible to go from the high of realizing his feelings for his best friend to being so hopelessly crushed in a single day, but there it was. Kuroo had never thought of him as a possibility, and now it was just a matter of time until he met his soulmate.
Kenma felt sadness and anger well up in him in equal parts, and focused on the emotion that would be easier to explain away.
“What did you even do?” Kenma snapped. He knew it was unfair to take this out on Kuroo, but the amount of emotional stress he’d been put through today made it so he didn’t care. At Kuroo’s bewildered expression, Kenma gestured to Kuroo’s hand in frustration. “To make them fall away. What was the choice?”
Kuroo stared at Kenma, still looking completely taken aback by his outburst, before he looked back at his finger with a furrowed brow. “That’s the other thing. I don’t really know. I didn’t think anything unusual - I was pretty sure I was in the middle of pulling this shirt on when it happened.”
Kenma studies the shirt in question, trying to find any answers from it. If Kuroo had gotten it as a gift from his family. If the faded logo of a sleeping cat on the front bore any significance. If the shirt had been passed down or bought in a store.
Kenma wanted to figure out the impossibility of it all. He wanted to pin down exactly what had caused such a dramatic effect on Kuroo’s strings.
He wanted a way to tie himself to the shirt.
But no matter how hard he tried, there was nothing. It was just a plain, old shirt that was still too big on his lanky frame that Kuroo wore all the time.
Slowly looking down at his own finger, Kenma silently prayed to whoever was listening that most of his strings had disappeared too. That sometime between lamenting on his crush and missing Kuroo, the universe had decided that they were fated.
But when he looked at the string, it was exactly where it had been when Ayumi had tried guessing where it was at. And there was no cheating this, even if he wanted to more than anything.
Kenma was fourteen, and he was certain of two things. He wanted Kuroo Tetsurou to be his soulmate. He was not Kuroo Tetsurou’s soulmate.
-
“The above chart provides significant support to the Alex Child Theory of Minimum Red Strings. This theory posits that while it’s possible to find a potential soulmate before your final string, it’s impossible to find them before reducing the number of strings to at least three. This is because of the entanglement that occurs between the strings when one tries to follow a single string too far.”
Quantifying Soulmates: Quantitative Research Methods for Red String Data
by Dr. Noemie Clau
-
Last year’s training camp had been an interesting affair.
Kenma hadn’t known exactly how to prepare. Kuroo had been incredibly excited about it, and had told Kenma all about the other schools like Fukurodani, Ubugawa, Shinzen, and especially about Kenma meeting someone named Bokuto.
So when the time had come to actually go there, Kenma was fully expecting to not enjoy it. It was during the summer, which meant it was going to be ridiculously hot the entire time. It was going to be nonstop volleyball, which meant he was going to have minimal time to play his games. And to top it all off, he knew Kuroo and he knew Kuroo would be pushing Kenma to make as many friends as possible.
It was one of Kuroo’s newest goals. Kenma loathed it.
Last year, Kuroo had gone out of his way to introduce Kenma to as many people as possible. And while it had mostly consisted of Kuroo talking to whoever would listen while Kenma stood silently at his side, Kenma always wanted to melt into the ground every time.
It had been especially bad when he’d met Bokuto for the first time.
“So you’re Kenma!” Kenma barely had time to turn and face the source of the voice before his entire vision was being obscured by bright, grey hair. Kenma almost recoiled, before the person was leaning back and smiling down at him. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hug you! Kuroo already told me you like your personal space.”
A clapped his hand on Kenma’s shoulder, and he nearly buckled under the strength. What on earth was this guy eating, how was he so strong?
“Bokuto-san, I think that still might be a touch too much.” Kenma turned to see another person trailing behind Bokuto with a mild expression on his face. He was gorgeous in the way that made Kenma feel nervous just from looking at him, and he ducked his head so he wouldn’t have to look directly at him. “Hello, Kozume. My name is Akaashi, and this is Bokuto. We both attend Fukurodani Academy.”
“I’m Kenma,” he replied instinctively. He felt heat rise on his cheeks, and wished the ground would swallow him up as he noticed the amused expression on Akaashi’s face. “But you already knew that…”
“Of course we did!” Bokuto exclaimed as he finally removed his hand from Kenma's shoulder. He tried not to obviously roll it. “Kuroo told us all about you!”
“Talking about me when I’m not even here?” Kenma’s entire body relaxed as he heard Kuroo’s voice. He turned to watch him approach them and sling an arm around Bokuto’s shoulder. “Careful, if you keep that up, I just might think you have a crush on me.”
As Bokuto laughed and swung at Kuroo in response, Kenma was using all his restraint to keep from grimacing.
This was part of the reason Kenma hated situations like these.
Kuroo apparently had this habit of talking about Kenma to his friends before Kenma had even met them. This had happened with every second year on Nekoma’s team, random students from Kuroo’s classes, and people who’d been at the training camp the year before.
Kenma wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t like it. It was embarrassing of course, and it was always a bit disconcerting when someone knew his name before he knew theirs. But it also meant that Kuroo thought about him when he wasn’t there. And after spending a year in separate schools, it was a comfort to know that Kuroo hadn’t forgotten about him.
“Oh, whoa have your arms gotten even beefier,” Kuroo said, reaching an arm to squeeze Bokuto’s bicep. Bokuto preened, and Kuroo grinned in response. “You know, if I was a lesser man, I would be swooning right now.”
Kenma couldn’t hold back his frown this time, no matter how minute it was. This he was much less a fan of.
Kenma had never considered himself the jealous type. And maybe jealous wasn’t quite the word to describe what he was feeling. But there was something about seeing Kuroo so naturally comfortable and flirty with so many people that made him want to twist at his shirt until it ripped.
Because even if not all, or even most of them, had a chance at being Kuroo’s soulmate, they all were more likely than Kenma. And he was self-aware to acknowledge that this contributed to some of the bitterness Kenma felt about his own strings.
So he kept his distance. He let Kuroo introduce him to people, and then made practically no effort to ever maintain those relationships. He was fine like this, because he never really cared about having anyone else anyway.
And then he met Hinata Shouyou.
Hinata was a living contradiction with boundless energy and an incredible ability to light a fire in everyone around. Kenma had initially thought it had just been him who’d been captivated by him, but then he noticed how his setter had seemed to meet him stride for stride, the way Inuoka had played better than he ever had before, how Coach Nekomata had seemed to believe in the Battle of the Trash Heap more than he ever had before.
Kenma wasn’t sure what exactly it was the other boy possessed, but whatever it was made Kenma want to try just a little harder. Not just in volleyball, but with the people in his life in general.
As Kenma started investing himself more, he started slowly caring more about the people in his life. He noticed the similarities between Lev and Hinata, and learned to see him in a slightly less annoying light. He actually replied to the texts Akaashi would send him, and started messaging him at least once a day. He started appreciating his team more in general, and started wanting to win for them.
He started trying more for Kuroo, too. Kenma knew his reluctance to make other friends worried him, and he could see the way Kuroo seemed to lighten up when Kenma began trying harder.
And that was what his friendship with just Hinata had done for him. Kenma couldn’t help but imagine what things would be like if he continued down this path of finding more people to call friends.
So this year, Kenma had actually been looking forward to the training camp.
“Kenma, one more set!”
In theory. Kenma had been looking forward to the training camp in theory. In all his newfound enthusiasm for friendship, Kenma had forgotten the fact that it was still volleyball he was dedicating an entire week of his life too.
“You’ve said that three times already, Shouyou,” Kenma sighed. He looked longingly at the exit to the gym, wishing he could just tuck himself away and play his game for the rest of the evening.
“Just one more, I promise Kenma!” Shouyo was looking at Kenma with wide eyes and he knew he was going to agree before he even finished dragging the last letter of his name out.
Another three sets later though, he drew the line. Combining Lev and Hinata seemed like an awful idea, but it did release him of them both, so he was more than happy to let them be someone else’s problem.
Now, he finally could go indoors and play his game in peace. Or at least it looked that way until he turned the corner towards the sleeping rooms, and ran directly into Karasuno’s number 12.
“Oh, Kozume-san, I’m so sorry,” he said immediately as he quickly bowed in apology. Kenma blinked. He hadn’t realized the other boy knew his name, and he felt a stab of guilt that he didn’t know the same.
“It’s fine, I wasn’t looking up, anyway.” Kenma waited until he stopped bowing before adding, “And just Kenma is fine.”
“That’s what Hinata calls you too, but I just wanted to make sure.” He shrugged and gave a small smile and for the first time, Kenma noticed he had freckles. Huh. “My name is Yamaguchi.”
Kenma was so grateful that Yamaguchi had correctly assumed Kenma hadn’t known his name without actually making him say that.
“Speaking of him, is there any chance you know where Hinata went?” Yamaguchi titled his head, as if half expecting Hinata to pop out from behind Kenma. Was that a common thing for him?
“He went to look for Bokuto.”
“Oh,” Yamaguchi said as a tense smile stretched across his lips. “Good to know.”
Kenma shifted in place. “He should be at the third gym. He and Kuroo usually go there.”
“Yeah, I know where it is,” Yamaguchi said as his smile became even more strained. “It’s just that Tsukki is in there so…”
Kenma could admit that he did not want to hear about whatever drama existed between Yamaguchi and Tsukki. But Hinata had clearly talked about Kenma to Yamaguchi, and Yamguchi had cared enough to listen. So he could at the very least listen too.
He tilted his head towards the building, and started guiding Yamaguchi into the building. Hopefully he would take this as a cue to talk, and if he didn’t, then at least Kenma was able to finally escape the heat.
“It’s just that sometimes I feel like we’re so in sync.” And wow, Yamaguchi did not need much of anything to start talking. Kenma chanced a glance at him. How long had he been holding this in for? “And other times I feel like I’m just falling behind and am barely able to catch up.”
Kenma hummed to show he was listening as he guided them away from the sleeping arrangements. He figured this needed to be a more private conversation.
“But now it feels like I’m the one leaving him behind, and I don’t know how to feel about that,” Yamaguchi said with a frustrated sigh. “And I know I’m only conflicted because I think he could be my soul-”
Yamaguchi froze, clearly not intending to reveal too much. Kenma just kept walking. He was more than adept at pretending like he hadn’t noticed something. It took a few moments, but Yamaguchi finally caught up with him.
“I mean, I think he’s important to me,” Yamaguchi amended quickly, and Kenma had to duck his head to hide his small amused smile. “And it’s not fair for me to hold myself back for him, I get that, but if he is it for me, if he’s-” Yamaguchi swallowed audibly. “If he’s my soulmate...then am I really holding myself back?”
“That’s not how these things work,” Kenma said softly. He knew plenty about not being able to control who your soulmate was. He just didn’t know what the right answer was either.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Yamaguchi said with a sigh. “Pretending like I have any say in this is pretty ridiculous. It really is probably best if I try and move on for now so that I can live my life without second-guessing everything I do - well even more than I already do. But,” Yamaguchi stopped walking and Kenma slowed beside him. He turned to look at the other boy, but he was staring intently at his left hand. “But it’s hard to give up on what I want so badly - even if it’s what's best.”
Kenma inhaled sharply.
“I know, I can’t get hung up on which choices will lead me to which people,” Yamaguchi said with a twist of his mouth, oblivious to Kenma’s sudden shift in mood. “It’s better to try and move on, and let things work themselves out. You can’t force a soulmate.” He sighed before turning to look at Kenma and shrugging apologetically. “Sorry for dumping that all on you, but Hinata’s right - you’re a really good listener. If you ever want to talk…”
Yamaguchi trailed off, and Kenma nodded in agreement even though he was sure he was never going to be going to the other boy for advice. Besides, as he watched Yamaguchi bow yet again and leave towards the cafeteria, he had more pressing things in mind.
Kenma knew that when Yamaguchi had said ‘You can’t force a soulmate’ he was talking about people abstractly, and not Kenma specifically. But that didn’t stop the words from plaguing his mind. He thought about them while dragging his feet to the blessedly air-conditioned rooms they were sleeping in. Thought about them while picking at his dinner later that night. Thought about them while everyone else around him slept peacefully and he was left staring at the ceiling all while Kuroo was sleeping just a few centimeters away from him.
Kenma turned onto his side, and studied his best friend’s sleeping face. Kuroo looked so much gentler when he was sleeping. He knew it was difficult for strangers to tell sometimes with his tall frame and wild hair, but it was impossible for Kenma to look at Kuroo and not see things that completely ruined any possible intimidation.
He saw the Kuroo who had gotten his first chemistry set right before starting middle school, and had dyed his entire arm green with one of his experiments. He saw the Kuroo whose natural leadership skills made him the captain of both his middle and high school volleyball clubs. He saw the Kuroo who had spent the night just last week to make sure Kenma passed his exams.
He saw the Kuroo he was in love with.
Kenma felt his throat start to tighten, and immediately pushed his blanket off of him. Quietly, so as not to disturb anyone around him, Kenma made his way out of the room. He walked blindly around the school, not caring at all about where he ended up as long as it was quiet and secluded.
Finding a corner right by some stairs, Kenma huddled himself in and tried to calm his breathing as he thought about the fact that he might have to finally let go of Kuroo.
And Kenma knew that this was for the best. He could objectively see that what he’d been doing was unhealthy, and that in order to move on he was going to have to get over Kuroo.
But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. It didn’t mean that he didn’t still want Kuroo to be his soulmate, that he was okay with this chain of events, that this didn’t crush him because he’d been wanting this sent he’d met Kuroo.
So while he could rationally work through this being for the best, rationality didn’t quite work for matters of the heart. At least, that’s what Kenma told himself as he felt tears well up in his eyes. What else could explain how utterly broken he felt then - alone, in the dark, saying goodbye to a love he never even had a chance at.
A sob wracked through Kenma and he didn’t even bother hiding it. He was allowed this. He was allowed to be sad and cry and sniffle because this was so awful and exactly why he’d never wanted to bother with the idea of soulmates in the first place.
Until Kuroo and his stupid laugh and smile and warmth changed everything.
Just as Kenma felt another sob bubble up in his chest, he heard steps rapidly approaching. He tensed before wiping uselessly at his face and trying to bury himself even deeper into the corner was huddled up in. Maybe whoever it was wouldn’t even notice him.
“Kenma!”
Kenma closed his eyes. He had never been very lucky, but having the person immediately notice him, and having said person be Kuroo seemed too awful to be real. Or maybe it was just that the two facts just went hand in hand.
“There you are,” Kuroo continued as he dropped to his knees beside him. Kenma tilted his face away, but couldn’t stop his tears from falling. He knew it was only a matter of time before Kuroo noticed as well. “I woke up and you were gone, and then I waited -”
Kuroo stopped abruptly, and Kenma’s shoulder raised up to his ears.
“Kenma, why are you crying?” Kuroo sounded so worried, and hurt, and just a little helpless, and Kenma couldn’t hold back the sob that forced its way out his throat in response. It wasn’t just because of how concerned Kuroo clearly was about him; but it was more because there was nothing he could say to him to ease that concern.
Kuroo would be able to see through any lie Kenma could come up with, and he couldn’t ever bear to tell Kuroo the truth. How do you tell someone you want to be theirs when they clearly don’t want that, when the universe clearly doesn’t want that?
“Hey,” Kuroo murmured, and it was all the warning Kenma got before Kuroo was pulling him into his chest in a tight hug. Kenma's entire chest seized up, and then he was crying harder than he could ever remember.
“It’s okay, let it out.” He could hear Kuroo speaking softly against his ear. “We don’t have to talk about it, but I’m here, okay? I’m here.”
Kuroo was here. Despite whatever they went through Kuroo was always there. Kenma brought his arms around Kuroo's waist and gripped tightly at the back of his shirt. Kuroo being here was more than enough.
Kenma was sixteen, and he was certain of three things. He wanted Kuroo Tetsurou to be his soulmate. He was not Kuroo Tetsurou’s soulmate. He would be happy at Kuroo’s side regardless.
-
“But I choose you,” I say desperately through my tears. “The universe can be wrong.
It has to be wrong.”
“I’ve never been one for defying the universe,” Kanon replies with a small smile. “But there’s nothing I believe in this life more than you. So to hell with soulmates.”
How Many Shades of Red: A Novel by Tabby Ran
-
Kenma hadn’t quite understood what it meant to feel pride for someone else until he watched Kuroo graduate from high school.
He hadn’t even done anything to help him. He’d just trailed along as Kuroo grew every year into the young man he was today. And the young man he was that day was a high school graduate about to start at the University of Tokyo.
He hadn’t done anything to help, but that didn’t stop the warm feeling blooming in Kenma’s chest as Kuroo’s name was called out.
“Ah, I can’t believe my boy is already grown up!”
Evidently his mother felt the same.
“I’m your actual son,” Kenma mumbled under his breath, not trying to earn himself a glare from any of the audience members surrounding them. Kuroo’s dad had gotten a special seat closer to the stage, and that left Kenma with his parents, many rows back intended for other audience members. Not that it seemed to deter Kenma’s mother. “Like in case you forgot, I’m the one who you feed and house every day.”
“How could I ever forget that?” she said sweetly as she patted his head. Kenma bristled, but he had no room to move away from her. “Now stop talking, there’s a ceremony going on.”
“You were the one who started talking first.” Kenma thought he’d said that quietly enough, but his mother’s sharp gaze made it clear that he hadn’t been successful. He tugged nervously at the end of the blazer she had pestered him into wearing, and caught the way her eyes caught on his ring finger. Ducking his head, he trained his eyes back on the stage and resisted the urge to run his thumb along the leather ring that covered his left ring finger.
It was a decision he chose to make after that night - that will never be spoken about - where he cried in Kuroo’s arms. He figured there was no way to make his feelings simply vanish, but not constantly looking at his strings was probably a good way to start.
So he’d done some research, and found out that placing a ring over his finger would make his lines seemingly disappear as long as it was tall enough to cover the entirety of the thread. It wasn’t exactly a common thing to get, but it wasn’t so rare that Kenma couldn’t order one for himself with a simple search of the internet.
One week later, he was slipping a black leather band over his left ring finger and all his strings vanished from his sight. Kenma hadn’t even been able to put to words how relieved he’d been to see it work.
People had been curious, of course. Lev pestered him about every day until one day Yaku kicked him so hard he landed on his head. Hinata had been curious at first too, but had lost interest in it soon enough. His dad didn’t seem to have an opinion on it either way, but his mother was obviously withholding some of her opinions. He wasn’t sure if they were good or bad opinions, and honestly, he’d rather just avoid talking about it altogether.
Which Kuroo had picked up on pretty much immediately. When Kenma had met him in front of his house the day after the ring arrived, Kuroo had glanced at the ring, looked back up at Kenma, and then started up a conversation like he always did as he led the way to school.
Kenma could’ve kissed him in that moment.
Which was pretty much the opposite effect he had been going for. But these things took time. And sitting here, watching Kuroo reach such an incredible milestone, made it clear to Kenma that he could be just a friend for Kuroo.
Sure the affection he felt in his chest every time he looked at Kuroo hadn’t quite faded away yet, but it wasn’t all he thought about when he looked at his best friend. It was progress. Progress didn’t have to be all at once.
Unfortunately, his mother didn’t seem to be on board with the progress he was making.
“So, now that Kuroo is moving away, do you plan on removing that ring from around your finger?”
Kenma tensed all over. Of course she waited until after the ceremony finished and after his father wandered off to find some refreshments to corner him. If there was one person who was as adept at reading him as Kuroo, it was his mother. The only difference was that Kuroo was willing to let a host of things slide when it came to Kenma.
His mother wasn’t so merciful.
Kenma spared his mother a casual glance before scanning the crowd in front of him for any sign of help. “Where’d you get that idea from?”
Kenma knew that deflecting from the question would only annoy his mother more, but if he could manage to stall this confrontation long enough, he wouldn’t have to deal with her at all. Now if only he could find someone to interrupt them.
“Avoiding this isn’t going to help you, Kenma,” she said with a disappointed sigh. He just barely managed to suppress the annoyed frown his lips were about to pull down into. “Running away isn’t going to help either.”
He didn’t need to look at her to know she was looking directly at the ring on his finger. At least he had one mystery solved - even if it wasn’t one he cared about figuring. But so what if his mother thought he was running away from his problems? He knew he wasn’t. This wasn’t meant to be a long term arrangement, but it did help now when he needed it the most.
One day he’d be able to be around Kuroo without the leather ring, but until then he would simply pretend. There was nothing wrong with that.
“You can’t just act like soulmates don’t exist.” Kenma narrowed his eyes. He was well aware of that. “You have someone waiting on you, and I’m sure that they’re even better than you can imagine.”.
“There you are, Kozume-san!” Kenma exhaled in relief as Kuroo walked up to them with a huge smile on his face. He hadn’t known what he was going to say to his mother, and had a feeling she wasn’t just going to take his silence as an answer. “Thank you so much for coming!”
“As if I would miss it.” His mother sounded sweet and doting, her troubled tone from just a minute before gone. “I’ve seen you grow up before my eyes, and I’m so proud of you and everything that you’ve accomplished.”
Kuroo beamed in response, and Kenma couldn’t help but be reminded of the younger version of him that would smile anytime his mother thanked him for watching out for Kenma or for helping out around the house. He had grown, yes, but he hadn’t changed completely.
“Can I steal Kenma away for a bit?” It may have been framed as a question, but Kuroo was already placing his hand on Kenma’s shoulder and tugging him to his side. His mother’s smile dimmed just a touch, but she was immediately nodding anyway.
“Of course! Kenma, come find us when you’re ready to go.”
Kenma turned away, more than happy to leave his mother’s side. Kuroo shot him a look from the corner of his eye, but said nothing as he led them further away from the crowd.
“Did you like the ceremony?” Kuroo asked in a teasing tone. Kenma shrugged. Kuroo knew these sorts of things weren’t really his thing. But still…
“I am proud of you though,” Kenma said as they came to a stop under a tree placed far from everyone else. He looked up at Kuroo and frowned at the surprise on his face. “Is it that strange I’d be proud of my best friend for graduating?”
“No! It’s not that at all.” Kuroo raised his arm up to scratch at the back of his neck, and Kenma was reminded yet again of Kuroo as a child, asking Kenma to call him by a nickname he hadn’t even meant to come up with. “I just wasn’t expecting to hear you actually say it.”
“Well, I figure you deserve to hear it once from me.” And Kenma meant it. Words weren’t everything, but Kuroo had definitely earned this. Kuroo grinned in response.
“Would you say it one more time for me then? On my special day?”
Kenma rolled his eyes, and Kuroo laughed in response. He considered him, happy and glowing in front of him, and Kuroo's laughter died down, Kenma decided he’d indulge his best friend one more time
“I’m really proud of you, Kuro.”
Kuroo stilled, and looked down at him intently. Kenma watched the way Kuroo's neck bobbed as he swallowed roughly, and felt his mouth go dry. He wasn’t sure where this strange tension had come from, or what it even meant, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from Kuroo. Kuroo opened his mouth, to say what Kenma couldn’t have guessed, and Kenma found his gaze immediately drawn to his lips.
“Kuroo-san!” Kuroo and Kenma both jolted away from each other, even though they weren’t even that close to begin with. Kenma turned his head away from where he could hear Lev and the rest of the team coming as he tried to control the blush that was creeping up his face.
What had that been?
Kenma turned what had just happened over and over again in his mind, but wasn’t able to come up with any answers. Two days later, he was still just as lost but with no time left to worry about it.
Because Kuroo was leaving.
The whole day had felt like a blur. Kenma had sat in Kuroo’s room as he packed the last of his things, had watched off to the side as Kenma squeezed his father in a hug before leaving, and had trailed after him as they walked to the train station.
Now they were standing, Kuroo having just gotten a ticket, and Kenma didn’t really have time to think about what had happened at graduation. He had more pressing things to deal with.
Kenma looked up at Kuroo and debated for the nth time that week about asking Kuroo for a certain favor. He knew that Kuroo had no intention of letting their friendship fall apart while he was in college. Kuroo cared about their friendship as much as Kenma did, and made that clear a hundred times over.
That didn’t mean life wouldn’t get in the way. Kuroo was starting college now, and was going to be a city long train ride away instead of just a couple of steps. It was going to be difficult for them to maintain the same closeness that had always come so easily to them.
So Kenma wanted to ask for one night. Just one night a week where they could call and talk and update each other on their lives. One night that Kenma could look forward to the stability that Kuroo had always provided for him.
The thing was that this wasn’t like Kenma at all. He felt clingy asking Kuroo of this, and he knew it was a lot to make him dedicate to. Neither of them knew exactly how rigorous his classes would be, or how demanding his volleyball team would be, and to ask this now before Kuroo even got a sense for his college life would be too selfish.
Kuroo would probably say something to that degree as well. Not that he’d ever consider the request selfish, but he likely had a million thoughts running through his head about starting at university. Kenma had seen the list in his room. He knew he was already stressing himself out.
The last thing he would need is yet another obligation, and Kuroo would find the gentlest way to say it but it wouldn’t change the trust.
“I feel like you decide a lot of things for me,” Kuroo said, pulling Kenma from his thoughts. His mouth parted as the words register, and he furrowed his brows in confusion at Kuroo, who was looking down at Kenma with an inscrutable expression on his face.
“I don’t make any decisions for you,” Kenma replied, trying to think of a single instance where that had happened. Sure, he’d asked Kuroo for favors in the past, but that was as far as it went and never thought he had been making decisions on behalf of Kuroo.
Unless that’s how Kuroo had been viewing it.
It would make sense, considering how often he said yes to Kenma. His stomach dropped at the realization, but then Kuroo was moving closer to his face with a frown.
“See, this right here is what I’m talking about,” Kuroo said with a sigh. Kenma blinked. He hadn’t even asked anything of Kuroo. “You get in your head and you make decisions on what I’m going to do or how I'm going to think - all without asking me what I actually think.”
Kenma lips parted. He guessed he did have a tendency of doing that. But it wasn’t because he thought less of Kuroo. It was because if he could figure out what he was going to say, he wouldn’t have to risk embarrassing himself in front of Kuroo, wouldn’t have to risk putting either of them in an awkward situation. Wouldn’t have to actually talk to Kuroo about how he was feeling.
Kenma furrowed his brow.
“I think you make a lot of assumptions,” Kuroo said slowly as he eyed Kenma consideringly. “I think...I think you talk yourself out of talking to me about certain things because you’ve already decided what I’m going to say and so don’t even bother. But Kenma…” Kuroo furrowed his brow. “You’re brilliant, and know me better than anyone, but you don’t know everything. So just talk to me, okay?”
Kenma bit his lip, and studied Kuroo before nodding softly. It was probably true that he didn’t give Kuroo enough credit sometimes, and that he let his fears outweigh actually communicating with him many times before.
But this was Kuroo. He could trust him. And he would show that too.
“I was wondering if we could set a time for us to talk, maybe once a week,” Kenma said lowly, keeping his eyes trained on the floor. He could feel Kuroo’s gaze on him, and tried not to fidget in place. “I know we’ll text and everything like you said, but it’d be...nice to have a set time where we can share more.”
“Kenma, that’s what you were working yourself over?” Kuroo said softly. Kenma tucked his chin into his neck in embarrassment, and Kuroo let out a quiet laugh. “We can definitely do that - I would actually love it if we did that. We can even video call.”
Kenma peaked up at Kuroo, and was taken back by the fond look on his face. He swallowed. “That works. We can plan on Fridays? Unless that becomes too busy for you.”
Kuroo hummed and his lip twitched up. “I’d never be too busy for you.”
Kenma immediately began willing the blush he could feel collecting on his cheeks away, but all that effort was ruined as Kuroo raised his hand to brush Kenma’s hair behind his ear.
“I’m going to miss you.” Kuroo murmured and Kenma’s breath stuttered in his chest.
He looked up at Kuroo, and blinked slowly to combat the tears he worried were about to well up in his eyes. “Me too.”
Kuroo’s hand lingered a moment before he pulled it back. Kenma tried to suppress his shivers as Kuroo’s fingers brushed his jaw. Kuroo studied him a moment longer before stuffing both his hands in his pocket with a quiet inhale.
“Maybe college will make me less of a coward,” he said, his eyes trained on the huge board that listed the train departure times. Kenma tried to pretend like their time together wasn’t slipping away, and instead chose to focus on Kuroo’s words.
“You’ve never been a coward,” Kenma said softly. Kuroo huffed, and Kenma frowned as he tried to meet his eyes. “You’re not. Why would you even think that?”
Kuroo looked back at Kenma with a rueful smile on his face. “Tell me that again in like two hours okay. Like about the time it takes for me to get to my place.”
Right as Kuroo finished his last word, the announcer at the station announced his train had arrived. Kenma’s heart dropped as he realized that he wouldn’t be walking home with Kuroo from this. His best friend was going on a train across the city and he would be walking home alone.
Before Kenma could dwell on that any longer, Kuroo’s familiar arms were coming around him and pulling him into a tight hug. Kenma froze for just a second before he was reaching up to grasp Kuroo back just as tightly.
Neither of them spoke as they stood there in the middle of the station in each other’s arms. It wasn’t until the last call was announced for Kuroo’s train that they finally separated, Kuroo doing a poor job at subtly wiping at his eyes.
“Friday,” he called out as he slowly began walking backwards towards his train. Kenma laughed and nodded, keeping his eyes trained on Kuroo until he slipped through the train doors and was finally out of sight.
Kenma had fully expected how lonely he would feel on his walk home. He expected his impulse to turn his head to his side and look for someone who wasn’t there. He expected the sympathetic looks of his mother and father as he entered his home. He expected the dull feeling in his chest as he looked at his desk chair, one of Kuroo’s favorite spots to be, and saw it placed exactly as it should be.
He didn’t expect the envelope sitting in the middle of the chair though.
Kenma furrowed his eyebrows as he walked closer to his desk, and his eyes widened as he recognized his name written in Kuroo’s handwriting.
Kuroo had left him a letter. That’s what he had meant by being a coward.
Kenma immediately started laughing. Kuroo was such a dork , who even writes letters anymore? When had he even found the time to sneak into his room and put the letter in here? Why was he so lame?
Kuroo was right, he was a coward and Kenma fully intended on teasing him for this for as long as he could. Right after he read the letter, of course.
Kenma,
I knew I was going to be too nervous to tell you all things you deserve to hear, so take this letter I know you’re absolutely laughing at me for . I’m allowed to be sentimental about this.
God, I hope I at least said this to you before I left but I’m going to miss you so much. I don’t think it really hit me that you weren’t going to be there with me until last week, when I was at my class celebration and you weren’t there. We’ve done everything together, been everywhere together, and it kills me that this is a step I’m going to take without you.
But I think I’m able to do it because I know I won’t be completely without you. I know you and I know us and I know there’s no way we’re going to let a little extra distance get us down. We’ll visit and call and text, and when I come home for break it’ll be like nothing ever changed.
And when my classes start kicking my ass like I know they will, and practice starts making me regret all my life choices, I know I’ll still be able to just talk to you and get through it. You’ve always had that effect on me, whether I knew it or not, and I don’t think that’ll change. Don’t think it could change, even if I wanted it too.
I just, I want to make sure you know how much you mean to me. And how sure I am that we’re going to be fine. More than fine, even.
Okay, now take a picture so you can make fun of me for this. I figured that was coming the moment I left this here.
-Kuro
Kenma tightened his grip on the letter, unsure if he wanted to laugh or cry. Only Kuroo could write something so disgustingly cheesy and still managed to make Kenma feel even more in love with him then he’d ever been before.
Quick, before he could forget, he reached for his phone to take a picture of the letter and tease Kuroo for it. However, he moved just a touch too fast and winced as the edge of the paper cut at his ring finger. Blood began poking its way up to the cut, and Kenma scowled at the inconvenience. Knowing he’d need to at least run his finger under water, he pulled his leather ring off.
He almost immediately dropped it.
Five bright red strings.
That was all Kenma saw extending from the thin ring that seemed to be barely holding on to the base of his finger.
Kenma hadn't looked at his strings in so long, but last he remembered they were still up to his first knuckle. He didn't even know anyone his age who had so little strings. He had no clue when this happened, or what made this happen, or how long he had so little string for.
Kenma hesitantly traced his finger along one of the strings extending away from him.
What if he followed it? He knew five was still too many, knew that three was the minimum before he was able to find a potential soulmate, but what if this was the exception. What if he looked at one of them and knew just from the sight of it that it was the right one? What if he followed it to the train station, down twnety stops into the city, through the blocks until he got to a dingy apartment where Kuroo would be waiting for him.
Kenma froze.
He hadn’t seriously thought about Kuroo being his soulmate in months now. He’d come to terms with it. He’d have someone else.
But looking down at the strings in his hand, Kenma didn’t think that was ever going to be possible.
Kenma was seventeen, and he was certain of four things. He wanted Kuroo Tetsurou to be his soulmate. He was not Kuroo Tetsurou’s soulmate. He would be happy at Kuroo’s side regardless. He was always going to be in love with his best friend.
-
“The trendiest way to keep your red strings a surprise is with a leather ring! If you’ve got your strings low enough, and are hoping for a touch of surprise for when you find your soulmate, it’s the perfect fit for you. Sure other rings can get the job done if they’re tall enough, but leather is the one thing that just goes with everything!”
Following the Red Threaded Road: Your Go-To Soulmate Blog by Zelo A. Yoos
-
Kenma squinted at his monitor, ignoring the voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Kuroo saying he probably needed glasses. He did not need glasses. It was just that editing this video was harder than it looked, and it was hard to see exactly which frame it was that his character had managed to defeat the mid-level boss.
Posting videos of himself playing games was something Kenma was still apprehensive about. It sounded cool in theory, but the thought of putting himself on the internet for the world to judge made his skin crawl. Either he posted the videos and no one watched, which would make him incredibly insecure, or he posted the videos and people would watch and give feedback, which would make him incredibly insecure.
Either way, it sounded much too nerve wracking for Kenma.
But he did like editing the videos, and maybe one day he’d actually feel confident enough to post them. But for now, it was just a way to kill time.
Speaking of time, Kenma glanced at the clock on the upper right hand corner of his desktop. He barely had a second to register the time, his eyes widening when really how late it had gotten, when a request for a video call from Kuroo was popping up on his screen.
Kenma hastily swept the snack wrappers littering his desk in the bin on the floor, and tucked his energy drink out of sight before finally accepting the call. The last thing he needed was Kuroo’s lecturing.
As Kuroo’s face appeared on his screen, Kenma couldn’t have stopped the smile on his face even if he wanted too. He looked forward to these Friday night video calls more than he would ever admit to anyone - Kuroo especially.
Didn’t mean he was able to hide the truth on his face.
“Oho, someone looks happy to see me. Did you miss my face that much?”
And there went his smile. Sometimes Kuroo helped keep his expressions in check without even trying.
“No, don’t be like that,” Kuroo laughed. Kenma took him in, the long-sleeve t-shirt he was wearing, the beginning of bags beneath his eyes, the way his bed head looked even more awful than usual. He looked tired, but the smile on his face was as genuine as ever, and that made Kenma feel relieved. “I’m happy to see you too.”
Kenma hunched down to rest his chin on his hands that were resting on his desk. Kuroo didn’t need to see how happy hearing that made him.
“It’s been quieter without you,” Kenma replied softly, eye trained on the corner of his monitor so he wouldn’t have to look at Kuroo’s face.
“Aw, Kenma, you can just say you missed me, too.” He didn't have to be looking at Kuroo to know he had a disgustingly pleased smile on his face, and he rolled his eyes in response. Kuroo laughed again, and Kenma chanced a glance at his face. “So, tell me about what I’ve missed.”
It wasn’t like much had happened in the week since he’d called last, but Kenma tried to recall everything to the best of his ability. He told Kuroo about how Yamamoto was still doing well with the girlfriend he’d managed to get, how Hinata was planning on visiting in a couple of weeks, and how they were planning on playing Fukurodani in a practice match soon.
“Oh, do you think they’ll let alumni come?” Kuroo perked up. Kenma’s lip quirked up, and he was ready to tease Kuroo about wanting to relive the glory days. “I haven’t seen Yaku or Kai, since I’ve graduated, and it’d be great to see everyone.”
“You haven’t really seen anyone since graduating.” The words were out before Kenma could think, and he closed his eyes as he registered how bitter they sounded. He knew it wasn’t Kuroo’s fault that he hadn’t been able to visit since going away. He was busy, and Kenma was too, and planning time to see each other when he was still adjusting to college was a lot to ask.
So far, Kuroo had missed Kenma’s birthday, and was likely going to miss his own. And as excited as he seemed to be, it was completely unlikely he was going to be able to come to the practice match either. However, Kenma knew this wasn’t his own choice. He was going to Todai, and was balancing playing on the volleyball team on top of it. Kuroo couldn’t help his busy schedule, and he shouldn’t be making it any harder for him.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, before grimacing and raising his gaze to apologize to Kuroo properly. “I'm really sorry. I know it’s not your fault you haven’t been able to visit.”
“I could try harder though…”
“No, you’re doing plenty.” Kenma eyed Kuroo’s tired appearance again, and felt a stab of guilt. “I just miss you; but, that doesn’t make what I said okay.”
“So you admit you miss me.” The tone of Kuroo’s voice and the smirk on his face were both teasing, but Kenma figured he owed him at least this much.
“Yeah,” he admitted softly, watching as Kuroo’s eyes widened in surprise. “I miss you a lot.”
Kuroo's eyes went even wider at the words as he continued to stare at Kenma, and Kenma felt heat crawl up the back of his neck. See, this was why he wasn’t nicer to Kuroo, he always acted like this and made Kenma feel so flustered.
“Kai found his soulmate!”
Kenma blinked rapidly at Kuroo’s outburst. If the sudden increase in volume and overexcited tone weren't enough to catch Kenma off guard, then it was the weight of the sentence itself.
“Okay,” Kenma replied hesitantly, unsure of why Kuroo had brought this up. He was happy for Kai sure, but he had no idea why Kuroo had brought this up so urgently now. “That’s good, I guess.”
“Yeah, he just met her.” Kenma couldn’t see for sure, but he would bet money that Kuroo was bouncing his knee right then. He frowned as Kuroo continued to talk in that strange nervous tone. “They were each other’s last string, and he met her while he was helping some lost freshman on campus. She was with a club that helps stray animals, and is apparently the kindest soul Kai has ever met and she just sounds so perfect for him.”
As he kept talking, Kuroo’s tone shifted from anxious to happy to wistful, and by the end of it he had a far off look in his eyes that made Kenma’s heart clench.
“Kuro,” Kenma said, dragging Kuroo’s attention back to him. “Is everything okay?”
Kuroo tensed up for just a moment before he sighed and let his entire body sag into his chair. “I’m fine.” Kenma shot him an unimpressed look, and Kuroo chuckled softly. “Okay, I’m not great but it’s not that big a deal. It’s just…” Kuroo sighed again and rubbed roughly at his face. “I guess Kai meeting his soulmate got me thinking about when I’ll meet mine.”
Kenma bit his lip, trying not to let any emotions show on his face. He would be a good friend for Kuroo, and help him talk about this. Being in love with him could take a back seat.
“Have your strings gone down any?” Kenma asked gently, knowing it was a sore topic for Kuro, but guessing it had something to do with his mood.
“Yeah, a bit, but not enough for me to do anything about it.” Kuroo huffed and started at the finger on his desk with a look of annoyance.
Kenma tried figuring what was the best thing to say. If Kenma said something about these things needing time, Kuroo would probably just wave him off because he’d heard a million times before. If he tried saying that the person he was waiting for was going to be incredible, Kuroo would probably make a dumb joke about it. If he said -
Kenma paused. This was what he and Kuroo had talked about last time - Kenma not jumping to conclusions about what Kuroo would say and not making assumptions without giving Kuroo the chance to speak up.
And thinking about it now, maybe Kenma had been making a pretty big assumption just then.
“You said you’ve been thinking about meeting your soulmate,” Kenma said slowly, trying to gauge Kuroo’s reaction. “What exactly did you mean by that?”
Kuroo looked up from this finger, and leveled Kenma with a look so intense he felt his chest seize up. Kuroo swallowed as he continued to study Kenma before slapping his hand on his desk in front of him with a deep breath.
“The thing is,” Kuroo started before ruffling his hair with his hand and starting again. “The thing is I-I think I’m going to end up...disappointed once I meet my soulmate.”
Kenma’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead. In all their talks about soulmates before, he had never heard Kuroo say anything remotely negative about them.
“What are you talking about?”
“Have your strings dropped any?” Kuroo answered, very obviously dodging the question. Kenma blinked rapidly before glancing at his left hand. He hadn’t told Kuroo about having just five strings yet - hadn’t told anyone at all - but mentioning it now when Kuroo was clearly struggling about his own strings didn’t seem like the best thing to do.
“Yeah.” Kenma said, trying carefully to keep his voice even. “I don’t have a lot left.”
Kuroo went entirely still.
“You don’t have a lot left.”
His voice sounded flat as he repeated the words, and Kenma felt more lost than he had the entire conversation. He nodded slowly, not wanting to make things worse by saying the wrong thing.
Kuroo stared at Kenma again with that same intense gaze from before.
“I’m going to say something,” he said slowly, his voice sounding raw and strangely vulnerable. “And there’s a chance I might screw everything up. You can stop me whenever you want, or we can pretend like this never happened, but I need to say this now because I feel like I might not have a lot of time to say it at all.”
Kenma's first instinct was to preemptively run through every possible reason Kuroo could be acting so strangely. He wanted to go over every scenario, every angle that help him figure out what his best friend was feeling.
But when he caught the part of Kuroo’s gaze that was pleading, he knew he just needed to let him speak.
“Okay.” He even managed to muster a small smile that he hoped was at least a little encouraging.
Kuroo lip twitched up and he finally looked a touch less tense.
“I’m just going to come right out and say it - Kenma, I like you. I like you a lot. Like it’s sort of scary how much I like you.”
Kuroo paused, likely trying to gauge Kenma’s reaction, but Kenma was too busy reeling from Kuroo’s life-altering words to give him any sort of non-verbal cues.
And they really were life-altering. Kenma felt his entire world tilt, shift, and the resettle into something that was almost exactly the same but now with a puzzle piece placed he hadn’t even been aware he was missing.
Kuroo liked him. Kuroo was currently confessing to him. Kuroo had said he liked Kenma a lot and was currently an entire city away.
“I know you’re going to probably meet your soulmate anytime soon now,” Kuroo continued, snapping Kenma from his reverie. “And I’ll be happy for you when that happens. I just wanted to tell you this. Just in case, I guess.”
“Just in case,” Kenma repeated, still trying desperately to catch up with everything Kuroo was telling him.
“Um, yeah. In case, you felt the same way.” Kuroo blushed as he replied, and Kenma was surprised at how utterly charmed he was by it. It probably also did have something to do with the fact that Kuroo was asking if Kenma felt the same way, but Kenma figured the two honestly went hand in hand. But regardless of how fluttery Kuroo was making him feel, Kenma did feel the need to be the voice of reason.
“Kuro, you have to know that we’re not soulmates,” Kenma said hesitantly. Kuroo seemed to deflate before him, and Kenma’s eyes widened as he realized exactly how that sounded. “Wait. That's not - I don’t - Kuro, I like you, too.”
As soon as he said the words, Kenma’s entire face burned. He knew that realistically he had nothing to risk here, Kuroo has confessed to him first.
Didn’t make saying the words out loud any less embarrassing.
Kuroo's entire demeanor changed. His sat up completely, and looked at Kenma with something like wonder in his eyes. Kenma's chest squeezed at the sight. He never thought Kuroo would look at him like this.
“Kenma," Kuroo said, sounding completely breathless. "Are you serious right now?”
“Yeah, why would I ever joke about this? But Kuro, we’re still not each other’s -”
“Who cares.” Kuroo looked more determined than Kenma had ever seen him. More than he’d look before deciding he would lead the team to nationals, more than he looked before their game against Karasuno, and more determined even before he had left for college. “If it doesn’t matter to you, then it doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care if you’re not my soulmate. I want to be with you, Kenma.”
Kenma’s lips parted. He hadn’t really considered not being with a soulmate. It was one thing to date before settling down with your soulmate eventually, but it was a completely different thing to disregard your soulmate all together. It would be rough, Kenma knew, if people found out about it. Their parents would probably likely never approve, and the news would undoubtedly spread.
But if it was Kuroo, Kenma knew he could look past all that.
“Okay,” Kenma said once again, and this time he was met with a near blinding smile from Kuroo. The joy on his face was palpable and infectious and Kenma felt a small laugh bubbling up from his chest. “Okay, I choose you too.” Kuroo laughed too, breathless and relieved, and Kenma felt the overwhelming urge to make his feelings clear.
Or more accurately, to state just how deeply his feelings ran.
“I need to tell you though, I don’t just like you.” Kenma felt his heart begin to race. He knew they had just decided to be together despite everything, and that should be more nerve-wracking than anything else, but that didn’t stop his chest from tightening and palms from sweating. “Kuro, I lo-”
“Can you wait until we see each other in person?” Kuroo interrupted, looking a mix of elated and conflicted. He was looking at Kenma like he’d never seen him before, and Kenma wished more than anything that he could simply reach out and touch him. “I want to be able to hold you while I say it back.”
“You’re embarrassing,” Kenma said immediately, ducking his head down and relishing in the way Kuroo laughed in response. It would never sound like the jingle of bells, and he was so grateful he’d be able to hear it for as long as possible.
Kenma was eighteen, and he was certain of one thing. He would choose Kuroo Tetsurou a million times over, the universe be damned.
-
“There’s a lot we still don’t understand about soulmates. But most would think that since it's a pretty straight forward concept, that shouldn’t really matter. That given what we do know about Red Strings, we’d never have any issues finding our soulmate. But we’re human. We love to complicate things.”
Interview with An Expert: The Downfalls of Soulmates by Haru Mannur
-
Kenma was only half paying attention as he guided his character around the open field in search of monsters. Usually, games like this were able to draw in all of his focus, but Kenma knew there was no chance of that happening this time.
Kuroo was coming today, after all.
He knew there was no point in waiting around for him, but so far none of his distractions had worked. It was as if time had decided to pass Kenma by slower than usual just to torture him. He wanted the morning to pass already, he wanted Kuroo to be long off the train, and he wanted to be able to hold him finally and never let him go.
Kenma’s phone buzzed, and he barely had the chance to spare it a glance before the sound of knocking echoed its way from the front door to his room. His heart immediately started beating even more quickly. Kuroo was early.
He bit his lip to hold back a grin as he heard Kuroo loudly greet his parents with way too much enthusiasm. While he wished he could be the first one Kuroo to greet Kuroo back, more than anything he wanted to be able to just launch himself at Kuroo. And unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to do that in front of his parents without a bothersome amount of questioning.
Hearing the pounding steps of Kuroo bounding up the stairs, Kenma paused his game and turned to face the door. He’d barely risen to his knees when Kuroo barged into the door with a huge smile on his face.
And that was about as much Kenma registered before a shock of red made him collapse back on his ass.
“Kuro…” Kenma said, feeling lightheaded and incredibly overwhelmed. He blinked, thinking maybe it was a trick of the light, maybe it was his imagination, maybe it was finally his mind going mad.
Because there, in front of him, were all five of his remaining strings reaching across his room directly to Kuroo.
Kenma felt like he couldn’t remember to breathe. He’d never heard of anything like this, had never read anything about something like this happening. He’d never heard of anyone having more than one string linking them to a single person.
And based on the dazed look on Kuroo’s face, Kenma figured he hadn’t known either.
“Kenma...do you - can you see this?” Kuroo breathed and Kenma slowly nodded his head.
“Five strings,” Kenma said shakily before swallowing dryly. “Kuro, why are there five strings connecting us?”
Kuroo shook his head, eyes never wavering from the threads between them. Kenma watched as he unsteadily raised his left hand, and he had exactly one moment to prepare before Kuroo strummed his finger against all five strings.
Kenma gasped as a tingling sensation spread from the base of his finger all throughout his entire body. It was warm and fluttering and so overwhelming but only in the best of ways. He was left breathless by the time it receded, and when he was finally able to rein in his senses to focus back on Kuroo, he looked just as winded.
“It’s real,” Kuroo said, disbelief shifting to pure unadulterated joy. He let out a laugh and Kenma felt hope rise in him for the first time in almost half a decade. Kuroo looked at Kenma with so much adoration in his eyes and repeated, much more softly. “It’s real.”
They stared at each for a moment more. Kenma wasn’t sure who moved first, but the next thing he knew he and Kuroo were launching themselves at each other. Kuroo caught Kenma around the waist and pulled him close to his chest as Kenma gripped the front of his shirt so tightly he was sure Kuroo would never be able to wear it again.
He felt his eyes begin to prickle with tears, and he closed them in an attempt to stop them. He didn’t want to ruin this moment with tears. Once he felt himself calm down, he pulled back just a bit to try and look at Kuroo’s face. But he stopped instantly when he noticed the sleeping cat on Kuroo’s shirt.
The same shirt Kuroo had been wearing when so many of his strings fell so long ago.
“Kuro…” Kenma said in awe as he placed his hand against the faded image. It was softer now then it had been back then, harder now to make out against the black of the shirt. But it was undeniably it. “This...this is the shirt…”
“From when most my strings fell,” Kuroo finished, looking down at his own chest with wide eyes. He chuckled, and then shook his head before he met Kenma’s eyes.
“It’s funny, because I figured out a long time ago that happening had something to do with you.” Kenma's eyes went wide. He opened his mouth to demand why Kuroo had withheld this from him before he was stilled by the feeling of Kuroo’s hand cupping his face.
“See, when I was putting this shirt on, I had this completely random thought about how I couldn’t wait for it to finally fit me right,” Kuroo said as he stroked his thumb against Kenma’s cheekbone. “And then right after that, I had another thought wondering how you would look like by that point.” Kuroo chuckled, and gave a defeated little shrug. “Even then I was planning on being by your side for a long time. It’s no surprise most anyone else didn’t stand a chance.”
Kenma’s lips parted and he grabbed at Kuroo’s wrist to steady himself. There was no way he had known for so long. No way that the day he’d loathed for years had been actually bringing Kuroo closer to him.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I mean I didn’t know it immediately - it wasn’t until I got home after freaking out your house and I went over it all again that I even thought about it.” Kuroo looked so unbothered, as if the fact that he was his best friend was the reason he lost most of his strings was an everyday scenario. “And then you never said anything about you losing your strings...so I figured that maybe it was a one-sided thing.”
“I don’t think it ever could’ve been one-sided,” Kenma said before he could even think twice. Kuroo’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead before a pleased grin spread across his face. Kenma blushed, and averted his eyes back to the sleeping cat image. “It couldn't have been. Not with you.”
Kuroo’s grip on his face shifted, and then Kenma’s face was being tilted up.
“I’m in love with you, Kenma.” Kuroo was looking at Kenma with so much adoration on his face, and Kenma could feel the tears gathering again. “I have been for years.”
Kenma didn’t hesitate to reach up and pull Kuroo down by the collar of his shirt to kiss him with everything he had. The kiss was a bit off-center, and perhaps a touch too forceful, but then Kuroo was leaning down a bit more and using the hands he already had cupping his face to change the angle of the kiss and - oh . Kenma felt himself melt into the kiss, and when Kuroo broke away for just a moment, he was dragging him back immediately.
He intended on kissing Kuroo for as long as he possibly could.
Much later, as they lay tangled in Kenma’s bed, just basking in each other’s company, Kenma found his mind going back to the subject of the strings themselves.
“I just don’t get it,” Kenma said as he stared at where the strings piled between them. “I’ve literally never heard of this happening, and I still don’t get what it means.”
“Do you have to know why?” Kuroo sighed happily as he ran his fingers over the top of the strings. “Isn’t it enough to know we’re connected like this.”
Kenma shot Kuroo the most disbelieving look he could possibly summon. Who exactly did he think he was talking to?
Kuroo groaned. “Fine, fine, we can talk about it. You have to have some sort of idea if you’re asking, though.”
And he was right, Kenma did. But Kuroo’s careful avoidance of the question twice in a row now made him think that maybe he had a theory of his own.
“What do you think?” Kenma stared directly at Kuroo as he asked, side of his lip twitching up as Kuroo froze. “You have to have some sort of answer if you’re avoiding the question.”
“I wish I could hate how observant you are, but it just makes me love you more,” Kuroo sighed, and Kenma flushed immediately at his words. He was pretty sure this was Kuroo’s goal given the smug look on his face, and he slapped him on the shoulder. “Okay, okay. So, before we talked and decided we were going to be together even if we weren’t soulmates, I kind of had a rule. For myself. About you.”
Kenma tilted his head in curiosity and Kuroo scrubbed at his face in response. He was more than surprised to see the red creeping on his cheeks. “It’s dumb, it was just...if you dated five other people seriously before ever showing interest in me, I’d give up. I’d move on and try to find someone else.”
“Five people is a lot.” Kuroo gave Kenma a pointed look and he scrunched his eyebrows in response. “It is, I haven’t dated anyone yet at all.”
“Yeah, that was the point ,” Kuroo said with a shrug. “I didn’t ever really want to give up on you, or this, or us.”
Kenma ducked his head, trying to hide the way he was smiling, but with Kuroo just centimeters away from him there wasn’t really much he could do about that.
Oh. Kuroo was only centimeters from him. He was right here in front of him, and despite everything, they were each other.
“What about you?” Kuroo asked, raising his hand from the strings to tuck some of Kenma’s hair behind his ear. “What are you thinking in that beautiful mind of yours.”
“You're so much worse now,” Kenma said, but he knew the fond look on his face bellied the effect of his words. He let his gaze trail to the strings, and he felt his smile dim a little.
“I think maybe there could’ve been six before,” he whispered as his eyes traced the pattern the strings lay in. “I did give up on us, for a little bit. Because I figured I couldn’t ever be your soulmate. And I think I would’ve given up five more times before moving on for you for real.”
The thought that it was his own doubt that could’ve caused them to not have each other made Kenma feel awful.
“Well, we figured it out before it got to that point, didn’t we,” Kuroo said, pulling Kenma from his thoughts. He looked up at him, and Kuroo smiled as he reached to intertwine their fingers. “Plus, we don’t even know if that’s the reason why. It could’ve been anything - all we know is that the universe was really on our side.” Kuroo raised their hands to his lips, and then very pointedly kissed his middle and pointer finger - where the red strings weren’t touching at all. “And even if it wasn’t, I still would’ve chosen you. We’re not together right now because of the strings. We chose each other already. This is just an added bonus.”
Kenma swallowed, finding nothing he could say. Well, almost nothing.
“I love you,” Kenma said softly, watching the way Kuroo’s eyes widened by just a fraction at the words. “I’m so in love with you, Kuroo Testurou.”
Kenma was still eighteen, and he was certain of quite a few things.
He was certain that if he called in an hour, Hinata would be done with his extended volleyball practice and would answer his phone by the second ring. That if he texted Lev, he would get a reply with way too many exclamation points. That if he cancelled on visiting Bokuto and Akaashi next weekend, Akaashi would understand and Bokuto would immediately ask when they could reschedule.
He was also certain that he loved Kuroo Tetsurou more than anything, and despite what everything else would have him believe, Kuroo loved him back just as much.
He’d be okay with being uncertain about everything else.
-
“There have been some incredible rare instances where multiple strings lead an individual to the same person. It happens so infrequently that there aren't any substantive theories, books, or research on the topic. It’s something private and special between those bonded. It might be best that way.”
Lovely Anomalies: Red Strings and All Their Surprises by Christy Lomle