Just a warning: there will be major character death, grammatical errors, etc. DOES NOT HAVE A PLOT.

Notes: If you saw this from tumblr, well you probably know my tumblr account already. I took it off since I didn't think it was appropriate to leave it unedited, though I've no plans bringing this back since there's no reason to. I edited some parts here, so it's kinda different from the original since I really can't decide who should be who.

This idea occurred to me one night and I just had to write it down! (And I know, this has to be my shortest entry yet) and I have yet to decide how this would end so it would be up to you guys to decide :")

Enjoy!

Everything seemed a bit off for the pudding head. And he knows why. Everybody knows why.

It was quiet, and not even Kuroo dared to break it. Not a word was said between them—not that he paid any attention to what was being discussed. For almost an hour now, everything was still. No one spoke, not a sound was heard for hours and hours of sitting on his ass—the only times Kuroo had to stand up was when he'd greet newcomers and show them the way in, or when he needed a drink—there was only the exchange of looks in the room.

Kuroo couldn't bear it—he couldn't bear the silence that seemed to have taken up the entire room. It was too quiet for his liking.

People in black and white came in and out, patting his friend in the back, hugging him, standing so near him that were way too close for comfort.

Kenma never bothered responding.

He needed time. He was gone—the light of his life was gone. He needed time to process things, to accept the fact that his friend was no longer with them. He could feel his heart wrench. How? How was he suppose to live on with the fact that he was gone?

Kuroo wanted to make sure that the younger boy was alright. When he had been notified of last night's events, he had been completely quiet. What's worse is that he wouldn't eat, he wouldn't sleep. That's why the captain never left his side.

He was hurt. Like that wasn't already obvious.

"Hey," Kuroo sat beside him. He could see that he wasn't taking the news too well. "I know what might cheer you up!"

Opening his bag, he brought out his portable console. Kenma's eyes landed on said gadget, his brow raised. How the hell did it get all the way here? Wasn't it supposed to be in his bag?

Instead of saying something, Kuroo offered him a warm, genuine smile, hoping to get the younger to look at him, to get a reaction. "You used to play this for hours, remember?"

For the first time in two days, Kenma lifted his gaze from the floor. "I know you want it." Kuroo shifted uncomfortably in his seat beside him. Whenever Kenma sees any gadget of his, he'd grab it the instant he sees it. His reaction shocked Kuroo. He'd never seen Kenma this sad.

"Kenma," he sighed slowly. "It's not good to stare off into space and ignore everybody. You've been like that for two days."

Kenma was already too occupied with his grief right now. He couldn't care any less.

"Hey! Are you even listening?" Kuroo's voice started to increase in volume, but nobody seemed to mind. Like the last couple of times. People have been ignoring him in general, which was pretty normal at someone's funeral. Right?