Two Red Blood Cells
Kenma is very good at overthinking things and making intricate plans for non-existent pitfalls of day-to-day life. Why are humans so terrifying?
Kuroo calls him the "brain" of the team. It's flattering as Kenma is he setter, the director the flow and they are a team; not a collective of soloists and as such they do work akin to the respiratory system; requiring blood, lungs, and the brain. Kenma could easily allocate a piece of the respiratory system to his teammates.
His teammates are too good for him. For lack of a better descriptor, they sparkle. They have a shine that bursts through like sunrays from behind musty curtains, when they play, when they have fun, when they smile, or when they just are there.
Kenma feels more like the musty curtains than a sunray. He's a mess. He's a coward. He's many things and he's certain that he's one of the lavish things his teammates would describe him as: "amazing", a "genius, "fantastic", a "pleasure".
He's useless. Worthless. He could disappear and vanish and it wouldn't make a difference. In every aspect of his life, nothing would change is Kenma disappeared. The team would do fine. Their lithe bodies would be unhindered without him bringing down their athletic average. They could get by on Kuroo's cunning. Without him, the person ranked second in overall academics cold succeed further and go to the profession of his dreams. And his hobbies, his video games, childish and distracting, well they could find some other kid hail hero and champion of a virtual, high fantasy land.
'Hey, Kenma, are you alright? Normally you're out of the gum like a flash when we're all done packing up.' Kuroo says.
Kenma blinks and swallows thickly. He gets up and grabs his. A million words buzz in his throat but every single one was better left unsaid.
Kuroo strokes Kenma's shoulder. 'If there's something you need to talk about, I'm always here to listen.'
'I know.' Kenma responds.
'Alright.' Kuroo sounded suspicious. He knew that Kenma was barring a million things to say but out of privacy and respect for his friend, he dropped it.
Kenma was to desperately spiel about the immense pressure he feels as "rain" but decided not to. It would only burden Kuroo to know how his affectionate nickname only made Kenma want to crumble. The internalised fear of failure, worsened.
Kenma left and Kuroo's touches lingered, acting as a bizarre pendulum of dreadful and and comforting.
They left the gymnasium. 'Hey...' Kenma mumbled and e already could feel the scribbly, horrible emotions inside of him loosen and become relief.
'Yeah?' Kuroo replied.
'I do, actually, want to talk to you about something.' Kenma admitted.
'Alright, shoot.' encouraged Kuroo.
His slight smile eased off more of that emotional chaos that Kenma was drowning in. It made Kenma smile, briefly as he proceeded to vocalise all those thoughts and words he had planned to keep secret.
For once, his over planning had failed him as he was trapped in one of the pitfalls he had predicted and was terrified of. But surprisingly, things were okay. Kuroo made them okay.