Author's Note: Hello everyone, this will be my one and only disclaimer for this Haikyu. I do not own the original characters of the series, I am only a fan putting my own twist on things. There'd be a lot more Kuro and Bokuto if I owned it, haha! Also the cover image is not mine, credit is given to the original owner. Please forgive any grammatical errors you may come across, I try to catch them, but some slip through. I welcome and encourage all you lovely readers to comment and favorite and follow this work; especially if you love Kuro :)

Update Schedule: A new chapter will be uploaded every Sunday.

Story Blurb: Two years ago, Hiraoka Shiori moved away to New York, leaving behind Kuro Tetsuro. Though she tried to keep in touch, he ignored her messages and calls. Then she shows up again and things are nothing short of awkward between them. Things only get more complicated when Coach Nekomata asks Shiori to help out with the Nekoma High boys Volleyball Club. Kuro tries to mend the damage he created and as Shiori slowly lets him back in, he learns of the deep scars haunting his long-time friend.

Warnings: Language | Mild Abuse | Mild Sexual Content

Pairings: Kuro x OC | Bokuto x Akaashi (hinted)

O N E

"You don't have to have anything in common with people you've known since you were five. With old friends, you've got your whole life in common."

-Lyle Lovett

-Kuro Tetsuro-

Kuro Tetsuro had become accustomed to searching for his childhood friend Kozume Kenma, who had a knack for just wandering off to someplace quiet so he could play his video games. The irony being that Kenma hated when people made a fuss about him, yet he had a tendency to become the center of attention when everyone would go looking for him. But on this particular day, Kuro was on his own to find Kenma. They were supposed to meet the others in half an hour at the park to play a game with the Bokuto and Akaashi of Fukurodani. With that thought popping into his mind, Kuro began to wonder if Kenma hadn't just gone back home. Despite not hating or loving volleyball, Kenma hated getting tired. And with someone like Bokuto around exhaustion and the possibility of losing limbs would potentially occur.

The mid-afternoon sunlight gleamed off the storefronts. Kuro weaved through the crowded sidewalk with ease. People chattered on their phones or with their friends as they passed him by. He apologized to an elderly couple as he brushed shoulders with them. A block down there was a small side street with a video game shop that Kenma would certainly be hiding away in.

Cars and city busses rolled along down the road when the traffic light changed. People stopped, clustering on the street corner awaiting their turn to move. Kuro pushed through and ambled over to the small side street. Unlike the main streets of Tokyo, this area was more open. He strolled down the brick street, his eyes drifting from the many signs hanging over the shop and restaurant entrances. A string of paper lanterns zigzagged from one end of the street to the other, which opened up to a business park where many would have their lunch after being trapped in their cubicles all morning.

Halfway down, Kuro spotted the shop—Gamer House—and if he didn't find Kenma inside the Pudding Head must have headed home. Kuro grabbed the metal door handle and pulled it open. Some bells jingled from overhead and a lazy 'welcome' came from the check-out counter on the right-hand side of the shop. The man behind the counter was burly and reading a magazine.

The walls were lined with little shelves with games and consoles along with some collectibles of popular game characters and superheroes. Kuro walked down an aisle, the stands on either side of him overflowing with manga, magazines, and game guides. He reached the end and looked left then right. To his right, a couple of guys were watching a TV, showing some sort of trailer for a new game. He turned on his heels, making his way down to the left. A couple more aisles of video games and movies, then he hit the far side of the shop, catching a glimpse of red. In the far back corner, Kenma sat on a folding table with his gym bag on the floor beside.

Kuro opened his mouth to speak but stopped when he realized Kenma was talking to someone and actually seemed invested in said conversation as his game console was resting on his lap and his golden eyes were staring straight ahead. It could have been he was talking to someone about a new game, that always got his full and undivided attention if they weren't on the court.

"Well, you haven't changed at all. Have you, Kenma-kun?" The voice was female. Familiar, too.

"I wanted to quit volleyball last year, but Kuro talked me out of it." Kenma shrugged. "It was hard then, but it's better now."

"I'm glad you stuck it out," the girl said with a giggle. "And even if you quit, I bet Tetsu-kun would've harped on you about it every single day."

Tetsu-kun? No, it can't be…Kuro blinked. He had only known one person in his entire life to call him Tetsu-kun. A lump formed in his throat. It had been two long years since he'd seen her—Hiraoka Shiori. And when she left, he had been upset that she was leaving, so he didn't say goodbye and he never kept in contact. Guilt roiled in his gut as he gazed at Kenma, wanting to walk forward, but for some reason, he couldn't get his legs to cooperate with him.

"He probably would have," Kenma said, then glanced in Kuro's direction. He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. "Kuro?"

Crap. Kuro hadn't mentally prepared what to say to Shiori. Should he pretend nothing had happened? She'd basically abandoned them…well, that wasn't entirely true she went to go live with her mother in New York because her father wasn't exactly the best caretaker in the world. Regardless, Kuro hadn't anticipated her return. She hadn't called or emailed or anything, but that might have been his fault for never reaching out in the first place. It would be a lie to say she hadn't tried to contact him. In fact, Shiori emailed him a dozen times, texted, and even called for the first two months. And like the asshole he was, he ignored each one until they stopped.

"My, my," Shiori said with a small smile as she came around from the display of video games. "Kuro Tetsuro, look how you've grown."

Whoa! Kuro believed his eyes to be playing tricks on him because the girl before him most certainly couldn't be Hiraoka Shiori. Everything he remembered of her was a distant memory, but at least her vibrant green eyes remained. The girl…no, he couldn't justifiably call her 'girl' anymore…Shiori was a young woman and man had she grown into herself. The once lanky, knobby-kneed girl with sharp elbows and plank board figure had transformed into a leggy brunette with an above average-sized breast and a charming smile. The gap in her teeth was gone, the boyish haircut was gone, the almost unibrow was gone, and the tacky sweaters and high-water jeans were gone too.

"You remember right?" Shiori asked as Kuro gaped.

Kenma hopped down from the table. "She saw me coming into the store. I had no idea she was back either."

Kuro didn't look at Kenma because he couldn't seem to stop gawking at Shiori. That can't be her. I don't believe it.

It wasn't that he didn't believe Shiori could be pretty. He always thought she was cute in her tomboy like way. While most of the other girls in grade school and junior high cared about their fashion and eventually make-up; Shiori never did. She was the type of girl who would fall in the mud and then start a mud ball fight. When most girls would shriek at the sight of a spider Shiori would try to pick it up and rescue it from being squashed. The girl before him didn't seem like the girl he knew at all. And he wasn't sure how to feel about it.

"Kuro it's rude to stare," Kenma chided as he picked up his gym bag and slung it onto his shoulder. He stuffed his handheld console into his Nekoma sports jacket. "You should at least say 'hello'."

Shiori looked away, biting her glossy bottom lip. She brushed her long chocolate locks over her slender shoulder. "It was good to see you again, Kenma-kun."

"You too, Shiori." He bowed his head to her and walked toward Kuro. "Are you going to say anything?"

"Hi," Kuro breathed, his eyes fixed on Shiori.

She tilted her head. "Hi."

Kuro's phone buzzed in his pocket. He looked away from Shiori and plucked it out. Three text messages and two missed calls—all of which were from that Horned-Owl Bastard. He shut off his phone, avoided Shiori's gaze and turned to Kenma. "The others are waiting, we better hurry."

"Okay," Kenma said and glanced toward Shiori as she picked at the lacy material of her blouse sleeve. "See you soon?"

Shiori stopped fiddling with her shirt and clasped her hands behind her back. "I would like that, Kenma-kun."

"You still have our numbers right?" he asked.

"Yours." Shiori pointed to Kenma and avoided all eye contact with Kuro. "It would seem his, is no longer correct."

Kuro pressed his lips together. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. For some reason, he was overwhelmed. Inundated by his shock and emotions. And that rarely happened. On the one hand, he wanted to welcome her home and apologize for being an ass to her for so long. Then, on the other hand, he wanted to run away and never look back. The suppressed feelings of his childhood crush just came hurtling full speed at him.

"I see," Kenma said, eyeing Kuro.

"It's no big deal," Shiori said, waving the matter off. "Take care." She took off before Kuro ever had the chance to say anything else. Her baby-blue skirt swayed against her knees as she walked around them, darting out of the store like it were on fire or something.

Kuro stared in the direction she had gone and bit the inside of his cheek. He got flustered and tongue-tied. It wasn't like him at all.

"You should have apologized for being mean to her." Kenma wandered toward the front door.

"I wanted too."

"Then why didn't you?" Kenma turned on his heels and walked backward, pressing his back against the door. When it opened, he remained pushed against it until Kuro came out.

"I don't know." Kuro looked around for the girl in the white blouse and baby blue skirt, but she was long gone and engulfed in the sea of people flooding the street. He rubbed the back of his neck and turned in the direction of the park. "Have you been keeping in contact with her? Did you know she was coming back to Japan?"

Kenma played a game on his phone. "We emailed a few times a month. She'd mentioned coming back to Japan, but not when."

"I had no idea."

"Why'd you stop talking to her?"

Kuro stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "No real reason."

Kenma looked up from his game and frowned. "Really?"

"All right," Kuro said with a huff. "I was mad at her for leaving."

"You know she didn't have a choice." He returned to his game when they stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. "It's not like she left for no reason."

Kuro clenched his fist. He knew that. He even knew it back then, but he couldn't help it. Shiori and he met when they were toddlers. They played at the same park, lived across the street from one another, their mothers were friends, then things got complicated. Her parents divorced and her mom moved to New York, but Shiori stayed in Japan with her father as her whole life was in Tokyo. She never cried about it at school, but she did to Kuro and Kenma. She would tell them how much she missed her mom and how she wanted to go live with her. Then in junior high, she left.

"Are you going to talk to her again, now that she's back?"

Kuro looked at Kenma. "Maybe."

"You should. It would be nice for all of us to be together again."

"Yeah," Kuro said with a small smile. "It would be, huh?"