Chapter Fourteen
Grand King wasn't there when he woke up, wasn't sure if he'd ever been there. It felt too real to be a dream, but... His face flushed, Grand King touched me. His clothes were in the right place, but there was an uncomfortable itch in his pants that told him all that he needed to know.
He sat up, rubbed the grit from his eyes and shivered, his skin feeling strangely cold without the blanket of fire and muscles that Grand King had placed on him last night. He made to grab at his phone, the earliest train to Tokyo was at nine, found it blindly and flicked it open.
Something fluttered down, grabbing his attention instead of the glowing scream, A note? Picked it up, not a note. Ten thousand Yen stretched between his fingers. What the fuck? Dropped it, looked back at his phone, Grand King messaged him.
"Sorry I forgot your buns, hope this makes up for it!" He blinked, calculating the message and the note, the money. This could buy twenty meat buns. Blinked. Looked down at the phone, started typing.
"What the fuck"
"Language, Chibi-chan"
"This is to much" Way, way, way too much. Two weeks of meat buns.
"Just taking care of what's mine, no big deal." No big deal.
"Thank you" It sounded stupid, like not enough, Two weeks of food. Thanks.
"Have fun in Tokyo, Hinata!" Checked the time, half an hour before the train left.
He jumped out of bed, picked up some new clothes and headed to the shower. Hummed quietly while shampooing his hair, rinsing Grand King's touch from his skin, dared to look down. Purple. All over his hip, in the shape of Grand King's hand. It wrapped around the bone, the fingers spanning out over his butt. Scrubbed at it. Still there. Scrubbed harder.
The water had ran cold by the time he left the shower, his body cold but his hip burned. Grand King had marked him. Again. Wrapped a towel around his waist, hiding the hand-shaped bruise in abrasive fabric. Risked a look at his face while brushing his teeth, looked down, more bruises, both sides of his neck this time. I should cover these.
People will know your mine. Fled back into his room, dropped the towel and pulled on underwear and shorts, looked for a shirt with a collar. Only his school uniform, which was still dirty from Sunday. Sighed. I doubt even Kageyama would doubt I fell twice. Pulled on a black jacket over his t-shirt, zipped it all the way up. Probably sweat through this by the time I get to Tokyo.
Tucked his toothbrush into his bag, flicked open his phone. No breakfast for me, I guess. Slipped that into his pocket, left staring at the money Grand King had left. Slipped that in too. Grabbed his sneakers and closed the front door quietly. Ran to the station, slipped onto the train after the attendant hopped off and picked a seat. More empty than I thought it would be.
The cabin was occupied by mostly old people, some of them with infants. He took a seat across from a particularly ancient looking man, he was dressed in a dark suit and had what was left of his hair combed back, a deep frown on his face. Well, that can't be good. Looked away from the old man who was staring through him, pulled his phone from his pocket, fingers dragging over the crisp bill in his pocket. Took a deep breath, ignoring Grand King's voice in his head. He leaned back, pressing his head against the warm window and told Kenma he was on the way, Kenma messaged him his address. I have no idea where this is. Fell asleep drawing a map of Tokyo in his head.
His heart skipped a beat the first time the train stopped, jumping around the window to see if he had missed Tokyo, Oh thank God, judging from the lack of too tall buildings Tokyo was still a ways away. His phone told him that he was only an hour out of Miyagi, his stomach told him he was too far from Miyagi. He patted his cramping gut, careful to dodge the burning mark on his hip, and settled back against the window, it was still warm from summer sun.
His head was cold when he woke up next, the window was thumping wildly against his head. Oh please, god no. He glanced up, the old man wasn't there, giving him a clear view of the blurring window that wrapped around the cabin. He usually didn't hate the rain, but walking around soaking wet in a place he didn't know wasn't really his ideal situation. He sighed as the train announced that Nippori station was the next stop. Kenma better have big blankets.
He jumped the gap between the train and the station floor, ignoring the hissing gap between it and pulled his phone out, Kenma hadn't warned him about the rain or gave him directions. I guess I have to ask someone. He grumbled slightly at that, the last time he'd been here someone had commented on how country his accent was. He wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but the condescending laugh of that person spelled it out clearly. Hinata sighed, then scanned the crowd for the least well-dressed business person he could find. This is hopeless.
"You look lost." Wow, thanks I hadn't noticed. He quelled his irritation and shot a smile up at the stranger, a big in a dark coat, equally dark hair and menacing looking chopper eyes. They gleamed with no light to shine off of them and smiled, exposing bright white teeth. "Do you need directions?" His voice was deep but lilted upwards in what he assumed was a friendly tone. "Uh. I-I'm looking for Nakameguro." He answered looking down at his phone for the right place.
The tall, creepy man laughed, not condescendingly and not out of mirth, and gave him another smile. I'm going to get murdered. He shuddered when the man spoke next, "I live around there," Please do not offer me a ride. "But uh-" He reached into the folds of his dark coat and Hinata tensed, he almost laughed when the guy pulled out a notepad and a shiny silver pen. "I've gotta get back to my office, or I'd get you a cab or something." He ripped it off and handed to him, scribbled kanji, and a small map.
"Hope you brought an umbrella." The man laughed again, then disappeared into a wave of suits and umbrellas. I hope too. He approached the edge of the station, where the rain was cascading off the metal roof and splashing at his feet. He waited for a minute, committing the directions to memory before stuffing the paper in his bag, then stuffed his bag under his jacket. He ran into the rain, following stream after stream of darkly dressed people, a lot of them smirking as they took in his dress, some of them lifting their umbrellas a fraction higher so he was slightly covered. Would have been nice before I was soaking wet. He gave those people a small bow as they parted ways, and found himself in Nakameguro in less than an hour.
Now we just find the right street. There was a big river that ran under all the bridges in Nakameguro, both sides covered in empty trees. A glance down at the rushing, nearly overflowing stream showed broken, soiled cherry blossoms, lines of pink that rushed with the current of the river. It would probably be nice to look at during a stroll during the summer. Oh right, it's supposed to be summer. Tokyo was a backwards place, he realized, backwards from the place that he was raised in, anyway. He sighed, then looked around, none of the houses really screamed Kenma.
He drew the line of too wet when he could feel his underwear attaching itself to his skin, he pulled his phone out of his sagging shorts and decided to call Kenma, and maybe yell at him. "I'm lost." Was the first thing he said, Kenma hummed in acknowledgement and he felt his shivering eyebrow twitch. "A guy gave me directions to Nakameguro, and I see a big river." Kenma hummed again, "Anything else?"Rain. Lots of rain. From the sky. Looked around, "A coffee place? Or maybe a cake place. I dunno. Trees." Sighed into the phone, "Does this place have a name?"
Looked up at the building across from him, "Uh, Hi- wait, Hokou? Hokara? Oh, squid place. You guys have squid here?" He'd definitely come back when he wasn't at risk of drowning in his own clothes, Kenma hummed loudly in his damp hear, bringing him back into the conversation. "Walk straight." So I was going the right way. He nodded, tilting his head to keep his phone from getting too wet in the crooked rain. "How far?" He asked, running his hand over dripping iron gates, the scenery changing suddenly from busy rivers to modern suburbs. "Just keep walking, I'll tell you when to stop." Creepy.
"Stop." He did so, looked left, then right, no Kenma, but there was Kozume printed onto a plaque and attached to the fence in front of a cute looking house, "I like your flowers." Kenma scoffed into the phone, and if he said anything else Hinata didn't hear because it took both hands to open the stupid gate. The plain stone path squeaked under his feet, paid it no mind as he looked around Kenma's yard, big bushes lined both sides of the fence, giving the illusion of privacy. He couldn't tell what kind they were from this far away, and didn't feel like submerging his feet in the marsh that Kenma's yard had turned into.
The door opened before he approached it. Even creepier. A tall, woman with dark hair was on the other side of the door, the handle in her pale hand, "You must be Hinata-kun, you're cuter than I thought you be." His face flushed under the warm smile she offered him, he paused in front of her, her eyes were golden like Kenma's, her dark hair pulled into a braid that rested on one shoulder of her white shirt. "You look like a stray, get in here." Her voice was dry, and he could feel that similar cat-like gaze on him as he waddled past her.
"I told Kenma he should meet you at the station, but he insisted you'd be fine." She said, and her dark lips tilted up in one corner, he paused and squatted to untie his shoes, giving him something to do while the woman talked. Once they were off, he was kind of lost, stuck between wanting to shake himself off or ask for a towel. "You must be Kenma's mother." He bowed lowly, trying to ignore the way his soaked hair flung water onto the floor. "S-sorry about the uh-" His voice faded off, gesturing to his dripping body. She smiled again, a glimpse of her too white teeth, "It rains a lot here, I suppose Kenma didn't tell you?" He shook his head, and flinched as some of the water landed on her shirt, fading the perfect white with drops of gray.
"S-sorry." He squeaked, bowing again, careful not to get any more water on the intimidating host. She laughed, making him wonder if Kenma had the same laugh, a bubbling noise that erupted from the throat, "I probably should offered you a towel or something." Her hand waved dismissively, and then landed on his head, he flinched, not expecting that in the slightest. He squirmed as her nails dragged soft lines on his scalp, and he dared a glance up at her when she pulled back. Her head was slightly tilting him a gaze he recognized too well on Grand King.
"I'll get you some clothes and a towel, then we can talk." She disappeared around a corner before he could ask what she wanted to talk to him about. He took this moment to look around Kenma's home, he couldn't see much from his spot in the foyer, a rack of high heels and leather shoes, his own sneakers making a puddle on an otherwise perfect stone floor, two black umbrellas. The floor raised into wood flooring, like his own house, but much darker, the walkway was well-lit and bare, he could see the back of a dark sofa and the upper half of a TV. There were picture frames, that shone under the ceiling lights that he couldn't make out, then Kenma's mother appeared before him.
"Kenma's a little taller than you, but these should fit well enough." A stack of fabric was pushed into his shivering arms, he set the neatly folded the pile on the raised floor before him and stripped off his jacket and bag off with slight difficulty, the plopped on the ground next to the shoe rack and he started drying his hair and neck, then pushed it into his clothes, trying to get most of the water onto the more absorbent fabric. "Bathroom is around the corner, Hinata-kun." Miss Kenma said, giving him a look he couldn't quite identify.
"Thank you." He called with another bow, then ducked past her and into the door around the corner. The click echoed more loudly than he thought necessary for such a small room, and he pulled off the soaking fabric, it dropped onto the ground with a disgusting slop and he rubbed the towel across his damp skin. He ignored his hip, ignored the burning that flared up when he told himself to ignore it, he caught his own gaze in the mirror above the sink. Oh. That's why she had that look. Grand King's marks all over his neck, his face flushed with mortification and he tugged on Kenma's clothes. They smelled like they had just been cleaned, and were softer than he thought they would be. But they didn't cover the marks on his neck like the sweat pants did, the sweats covered more than enough, pooling around his wiggling toes.
He picked up his clothes, replacing them with a towel, rubbed it against the shiny tiles with his feet while he drained his clothes in the sink. He picked the towel back up and wrapped his clothes in it before leaving the bathroom. An odd aroma filled the void that had been his frozen sense of smell, it was sweet and warm, he wasn't sure how a smell could be warm, but didn't question it and did his best to follow it. Following the line of the couch into a shiny kitchen.
A steaming teacup was put in front of him, the contents glowed red under more ceiling lights, he looked up at Kenma's mother, who gave him a smile. "It's Ichigo tea. I can make something else if you don't like it?" She gestured back to the steaming teapot, he blinked, Ichigo? He'd never heard of it before, but how bad could fruit tea be. "Uh- This'll be fine, Kozume-san." He gave her a smile, which she returned with another quirk of her lips, that analytical gaze returning with it.
She spoke again when he took his first sip, pulling himself into a too tall bar stool. "How long have you been friends with Kenma?" That's a weird question, he didn't think he could answer it, to be honest. They'd been rivals for months before Kenma had called them friends. "Three months." That was when we met, but that's like the same thing. She hummed, her head tilting with her lips. "And you live in Miyagi?" He nodded, only slightly taken aback by the change in subject. "How was the train ride?" I slept through most of it, also I didn't pay for the ticket.
He swallowed, not sure how to answer, it felt like a question in a question, the look in her eyes suggested that as well. "It was fine, slept through most of it." He answered truthfully, she nodded, giving him some relief. "Kenma told me you had a panic attack, how are you feeling now?" Nervous. Cold. Is about-to-be-murdered via eye contact a feeling? "I'm fine." He answered shortly, looking away from her too strong gaze, "It was probably just something I ate." He added after, giving his tea another sip. It was sweeter than the smell had indicated.
She made a small noise, something like a scoff, "I think that might be the opposite of the problem." Something he couldn't recognize was present in her voice, "My son also told me that you've been skipping meals, well, replacing those meals with meat buns." Is there anything Kenma didn't tell you? He bit the inside of his cheek, the words already starting to form in his throat that ended up in a strangled mumble. "You're not on any medication, are you?" Her voice was closer this time, a quick glance showed thin arms leaning on the counter, almost in his personal space but not quite.
Two pills on the bottle. The words rattled in his mind, too foggy to place. "I don't think so?" He answered instead of the no he wanted to say. She was quiet for a long time, he looked up, the sharp angles of her eyebrows were higher than the last time he had seen her face. "You don't think so?" She asked, voice high and questioning. "I heard my mom talking with Sato about pills and bottles, but I've never taken pills, so I dunno if they were talking about me." She nodded, sipped at her tea, her lips were thin, puckered. Did she not like the tea?
"And the 'chalky' rice?" Did she-? He blinked, "What about it?" A loud breath from her nose forced him to look away, "You never made the connection? Her voice is curious, and now he is too. "You think they put the pills in the rice?" She didn't react, but the answer was in the air. "But-why?" She shrugged, "I'm not the one to ask." She leaned away, leaving him silent and stunned. He swallowed, not sure what to say, how did she put that together? How could I not? Who is she? His brain filled with confusion and anger and "Gwaahh" He groaned, settling his head on the edge of the counter.
"Do you know what it could be?" His voice was quiet and he wondered if he would have to repeat it, she shrugged again, "No idea." She sipped at her tea, "I'd need drug names and then we'd know." We. "Are you a doctor?" He couldn't help but ask, she smiled. "Something like that." What does that even mean.
"I'm a psychiatrist." Like Grand King, but with a degree. He nodded at the information, "So you like, play mind games with people?" His voice sounded bitter to his own ears, his hip and neck flaring at his words. Her face changed into a smooth mask, "Do you want to play mind games?" He shook his head, I want Kenma. "I was just curios about Kenma's new friend, he doesn't make many of them, let alone buy seven pies for them." She laughed again, but all he was focused on her words, Why didn't Kenma had many friends? He's so cool. And really good at volleyball.
He frowned, "Seven?" He asked, slightly stunned when that processed in his brain. She nodded, still smiling, "Although, I think it was more of an excuse to stuff himself." He almost responded when another voice interjected, "I would never." Kenma emerged from a staircase, looking annoyed and damp. Had he been in the rain too? He smiled at his rival and gave him a small wave as the other made to join him at the counter. He was annoyed to notice that Kenma had an easier time sliding onto the bar stool than he did. Stupid tall Kenma. But drowned the words in sweet liquid before the words came through his lips.
"I was waiting for you." Was all Kenma said, looking at him, then at his neck. Kenma blinked, and Hinata flushed, moving his hands to cover the burning flesh. "Something happen?" Was all the other boy said and he shook his head, perhaps too quickly. Kenma looked like he was going to say something but his cat-like eyes were drawn in by another teacup being put onto the counter.
"You're wet." Excellent observation. He nodded, hiding a bitter grin into his tea. "So are you." He said eventually, taking in his friend's slightly damp hair. Kenma nodded, took a long sip of his tea, then stared at his mother, "I see you met my mom." He nodded when Kenma looked at him, he wasn't sure he could handle two sets of cat-like eyes staring at him like that. "She uh- we talked." About how my rice isn't actually rice, or just rice. About my panic attack. Just casual talk with my friend's mom. Kenma looked like he knew what he was thinking and his lips quirked, bearing an uncanny resemblance to his mother as he did so.
"Anything interesting?" Kenma asked soon after, giving him another look like he knew what they'd talked about, he probably does, and was gauging his reaction. Interesting is a good way to put it. He nodded, "Yeah." He answered quietly, "Thank you for the tea." He said, staring into the empty cup. Kenma's mother looked down at him, another smile, "Thank you for coming over." Why is she thanking me? I just took her tea and maybe ruined her floor. He swallowed, then nodded, looking away.
They were quiet for a long time, and Hinata was starting to get twitchy, the tea was too sweet not to have a lot of sugar in it. "I have work to do, I hope you enjoy your stay, Hinata-kun." She pulled away from the counter, and walked towards the front door, it slammed soon after.
"Your mom seems nice." Kenma was staring again, "You have bruises on your neck." Right to the point. He squirmed under the gaze then, "Y-yeah." Kenma scoffed, "Are you going to tell me why?" His head sunk at that, I got marked by Grand King. I got touched by Grand King. Grand King wants me. He shook his head and Kenma was quiet for a long time. "Did you like the game?" Kenma asked eventually, and Hinata frowned, "You mean the game that gave me nightmares and scarred me for life? Kenma's lips quirked at his admission. Sadist. "That would be the one."
Kenma hopped out of his stool after draining his tea and took both of their cups to the sink, then he exited the kitchen and walked to the stairs he had walked down from. "Come on." He said, quiet but forceful. He nodded, grabbed his bag from the door and followed Kenma up the stairs.
He wasn't sure what he was expected, lots of games and maybe a pack of cats, but Kenma's room was a bit different than his mind had supplied him. There were games, but the walls weren't covered in shelves full of them, the walls were visible and a dark shade of blue, it suited Kenma somehow, the same way he did in his school colors. He tried to imagine a color that Kenma didn't look good in, but couldn't picture one. Maybe green. But he imagined Kenma flopped out in the forest, playing a game while birds landed on his still form, and that theory was out of the window.
"You can sit down." Kenma's hand waved to his bed, bigger than his own, but not one that dominated the floor. It was in the middle of the room, unlike the corner where his had always been, and directly under a window, covered in split curtain, a sliver of the street he walked on visible through it. So that's how he gave me directions.He looked back at Kenma, who was staring at him, at his neck, specifically. "Tell me." It wasn't a question, wasn't asked like one, and the look Kenma was giving him would make it a hard one to dodge.
"Did you know it was a drug?" He asked instead, If you can't get through a block, go around it. Kenma blinked, looking into his eyes for the first time since he noticed the bruises, "Not at first, then mystomach started feeling weird. How long?" About the marks or the rice? "A few years, I thought it was a rice allergy." Kenma scoffed, then jumped onto the bed, scooted back until his shoulders were against the wall. Hinata joined him, regretted it, he wanted to hide but he pushed himself closer. Why? He sighed, buried himself in Kenma's side as Kenma pulled out a game from almost nowhere.
"I'll keep asking until you tell me." Back to the bruises, then. He sighed into Kenma's stomach, squirmed until his head was on top of it, he could feel the other's pulse like this. Thump, thump. "Someone gave them to me." The noise from Kenma's game stopped abruptly, he looked up, Kenma looked down. "Obviously. I was asking for a name." Oh.
He huffed, he wasn't sure what to say besides Grand King. "Why?" Quiet, scared. Kenma's stomach tensed under his ear, he never thought that Kenma would have muscles, but he had been playing Volleyball for a number of years, so it shouldn't be as shocking as it was. "I don't want people hurting you." The bruises flared as Kenma spoke, low and focused on him. "Why?" Kenma scoffed again, but the tension in his stomach didn't disappear. "We're friends, Shoyo." He nodded, friends. It's been a while since anyone had called him that, his team just called him teammate, always by his last name except for Noya-senpai, or annoying, although that was mostly Kageyama and Tsukishima.
Middle school. He realized, was the last time someone just freely called him like that, it wasn't that long ago, Why does it seem like ages. "Thank you." It was murmured into Kenma's stomach, but the tension eased, telling him the other boy had heard. The game noise started back up, he closed his eyes, "I still need a name." Lighter this time.
"Grand King." It was a whisper, a secret. The only worth keeping. From Kenma, anyway. The pulse in Kenma's stomach picked up against his ear, "You're gay?" A question, an accusation. He remembered that Kenma went to church every Sunday, would probably condemn him to hell, or spray with holy water. He shrugged, not entirely sure himself. "I dunno." He said anyway, Kenma inhaled deeply, letting Hinata see over the device blocking them. Kenma's eyes weren't meeting his. "Do you hate me?" He didn't mean to be that blunt, but he needed to know now.
Kenma's stomach jerked, "No." Quiet, distracted, but accepting. "'m sorry." Kenma swallowed loudly, "It's not like you can choose that sort of thing." He snorted, all the times he had said yes to The Grand King, giving him permission to show up, permission to kiss him, permission to touch him, his body and mind. "Is Oikawa a vampire?" He giggled, tension melting away with each breath denied to his lungs.
They stay like that until it's dark, darker that is, the sound of rain makes him tired along with Kenma's pulse, but he's distracted from that by the game in his hands, something much less violent. Animal Crossing, Kenma told him, conquer a town, make friends with animals, build a house. He didn't think it would be that interesting, but he wasn't able to put it down. No demons, no blood, I think I could get used to this. There was even a cat that looked suspiciously like Kageyama, Kenma told him that that cat was much less creepy than Kageyama.
Kenma's game stopped making noise, and he looked up, "You should eat." Hinata wants to remind them that they had been sitting here for hours and that they should eat, but Kenma is staring very intently at him so he just nods. The black-blond leads them downstairs, past another room he hadn't noticed before, a big almost table is shining under a chandelier. "What's that?" He can't help but ask, tugging on Kenma's leading hand. The boy stops, most likely follows his gaze and leads them towards the object. "It's a piano. Want to try?"
He's never seen one this big before, shiny and black and almost takes up the entire room, "I've never done it before, do you play?" Kenma says nothing, just pulls him onto an uncomfortable bench that's covered in thin lacy material that does nothing to stop the wood from pushing against the bare bones of his butt. He's distracted from that when Kenma's hands surge forward and starts playing. It's deep and fast and beautiful, he'd heard piano music before, but this was much better than that.
Kenma keeps going, faster and slower, Hinata never noticed how long Kenma's fingers are, they stretch across too many keys and move quickly across them. The masterpiece ends with a deep hum that vibrates in his chest, Kenma looks at him, almost bored, like doing something that amazing is second nature to him. "That was awesome!" He chirps, pressing his shoulder against Kenma's, making the other boy snort against him. "Do you want to try?" He offers again, and Hinata is frozen. "I-I shouldn't, I'd probably break it or something." He was rather accident prone after all, and the piano looked more expensive than the majority of things in his house.
Kenma makes another noise, then hands are tugging on his, hopefully to leave, but more notes ring in his ears, his fingers feel clumsy but warm under Kenma's guidance, he's pretty sure his hands are sweating while the other boy guides him into making music. He laughs a little, shocked that he was able to do this, albeit he had help, but it's wow.
He leans back, back cracking as his spine straightens out, "How long have you been doing that?" Kenma's off the bench, walking towards the kitchen again, "Too long." Is the only answer he gets, he laughs at how old Kenma sounds when he says that. The black-blond just blinks at him, "What do you want to eat?" He has no idea, he's never made a meal before. Kenma just stares at him, waiting. "Rice and fish okay?" He almost wants to snap no! but recalls what Kenma's mother said. Medication? Isn't it obvious? He just nods, "Want some help?" He offers quietly, Kenma shakes his head. "You're the guest." There's more amusement than resentment in his tone and Hinata smiles.
Hinata settles on the floor of the kitchen, leaning against a cabinet while Kenma darts around the kitchen with pans and frozen fish. Kenma looks down at him, shocked each time like he forgets that Hinata is there. Maybe he's not used to guests. Or people sitting on his floor, watching him. Maybe both. He offers the other boy a smile each time he's looked at, and Kenma just looks at the pan in his hand.
He meal is finished when the rice cooker starts singing, the rice cooker is actually singing. He asks if all rice cookers sing, Kenma shrugs, "Probably." He nods, making a note to operate his own rice cooker one day. Isn't it obvious? Rips the bones from the fish, the skin is brown and crackles when he slices it open. "This is really good." He comments, Kenma looks at his plate, "Make sure you eat." His stomach is still in knots from this morning, he eats instead of talking until his plate is cleaned and Kenma is satisfied. The rice was sweet, steaming, and when he swallowed he didn't cough. It was new, and good, and warm. He smiles at Kenma, who has fish skin on his cheek.
Kenma looks good when he's satisfied, not quite smiling, but his stares are less like glares and his lips aren't as thin. He offers to clean the dishes since Kenma cooked for him, but Kenma shakes his head, and they're placed inside of a small box. A robot dish washer. Awesome! He stares at the device Kenma fiddles with buttons, flinches as it starts making noise, he's only a little disappointed that it doesn't sing.
They play more games when they get back upstairs, this time on Kenma's TV, and they play together. Smash Bros. Everyone plays Smash Bros., Shoyo. He just nods, fumbles around with the controller while Kenma's character beats his to death. Kenma smirks at him, and he growls in return, "I'll definitely beat you this time!" He promises, stretching his cramping fingers. Kenma just snorts, turning back to the screen in front of them.
He doesn't beat Kenma. Ever. Not even once. They play twenty-six rounds and he lost them all. He wonders if he could beat Kenma in an actual fight. Probably not. He sighs, which turns into a yawn. Kenma stares at him, then rises to his feet, leads him into the bathroom and they brush their teeth together.
He puts his head on Kenma's stomach, it's warm and soft under his face. Kenma looks like he wants to say something about him lifting up his shirt and then cuddling into his stomach, but he just sighs and pats his head, Hinata jerks as Kenma's warm, long fingers settle into his hair. "Kenma, are you really smart?" It probably sounds like a random question, but it's something he can't help but wonder. Kenma's body adjusts against the fabric of his bed, but it's too dark to see anything.
"Not really." Is all he says, then there's music, soft and inviting. It mixes well with Kenma's pulse and he falls asleep.