This is probably my first attempt on Haikyu! fanfiction + angst. I don't own Haikyu! - if I did, I would've invited authors of different sports anime/manga and have us write a collab together.

Kuroken | Bokuaka | Iwaoi | i'll probably still add others but for now... I swear the first part of this was all angst, why did it suddenly turn out this way?!

He should be happy, to say at least. He finally took one step towards the future. He was equally happy as his family, eyes almost beaming inpride as they took a good old look at their son in a formal attire; hands sometimes trying to straigten the untamed hair that he had. He was supposed to be happy.

He grimaced. There was the unspoken part of his body ― one deeply attach to his best friend who wasn't happy at all. Speaking of. He felt a tug on his sleeves, the oh-so-familiar tug done by the small hand of a boy. Without a word, he turned; grinning at the shorter boy in front of him.

"Congrats, Kuroo." Kenma says, the usual monotone voice that he had.

Behind him was the famous volleyball team, Nekoma. Their libero was nowhere to be found, that was to be expected. The team had smiles on their faces, each varying from one another. Tears misted in their eyes ― but for him, their captain; they held it back with pride.

"Don't go crying on me now," Kuroo jokes as he steps forward, closer to his team. "I'm watching your performance."

"Captain," Yamamoto said, stepping forward as he bowed. "Thank you for your hard work."

The others followed, shouting as they did so. Kuroo smiled at his former team; who was trying to hold back the tears that had escaped. Kuroo stepped forward, tousling their hair. His team looked up, tears on their cheeks but their eyes had held pride.

"Be sure to make it into Nationals," He says, grinning. "And beat that Akaashi for me."

"Osu."

Kuroo tilted his head, looking at Kenma; who in the whole duration was holding his sleeves. His expression still hasn't changed ― no crack of emotion or whatsoever. His golden eyes were not facing him, but as the second grew by, his grip had tightened on his sleeves.

"Kenma," Kuroo calls, tousling the pudding hair of the boy. "You won't go crying on me like Yamamoto, would you?"

Kenma shakes his head but still doesn't look up. Kuroo chuckles slightly, crouching down to meet the boy's height. "Oi, you should sleep more often. You haven't grown an inch since first year."

On this, Kenma looks up. He scrunches his nose. Kuroo chuckles at this since ever since he was young, he prided himself on being able to read Kenma ― more than anyone could.

"Kenma," He calls out as Kenma's golden eyes snapped to him. "I'll visit regularly, all right?"

"Kuroo," Kenma calls his name. Kenma had always depended on Kuroo and now that it has come to this, what happens then? He wouldn't have to talk much, not when Kuroo could do it for him. Kuroo gave him a team ― some friends to talk to (even if he still likes video games better). Kuroo had been there with him ― ever since he was small; holding his hand through it all. He had been there when Kenma wasn't in the mood or when Kenma can't beat the boss and he asks Kuroo for help. He had been there when Kenma was down on the dumps ― more so than usual.

"Kuroo," He calls once more. "You're still going to fulfill your promise about helping me beat the final boss, aren't you?"

Kuroo smiles; then he chuckles. "Of course, Kenma. When have I ever broken a promise?"

Kuroo.

At long last, Kenma lets his facade broke. He clutches the boy's sleeves tighter, his fist closing in on it. Kuroo chuckles before placing his chin on Kenma's pudding hair ― hand automatically going to the younger boy's back, patting it soothingly.

"I'll still be helping you," Kuroo whispers on his ear. "I'm always here, Kenma."