20 FACTS ABOUT THE PAST THAT WILL BLOW YOUR MIND
Kenma was fine up until middle school.
Fine might be an overstatement, but for the most part, he was okay.
Throughout the duration of grade school, Kenma didn't stand out, wasn't noticed. He didn't have friends, and he didn't want them. When the certain times of the day rolled around that having friends was a necessity, Kenma successfully got by without them. At lunch, he would stay in the teacher's room, eat, and do homework. During recess, he would go over to the corner of the playground, where no one was, and watch the ants on the small anthill they had built against the chain link fence until the bell rang.
Kenma had his life at school down to a system so that no one would bother him. Besides, it was grade school. Everyone was too absorbed in their own world to be bothered with the kid who never spoke a word. No one noticed Kenma, and he preferred it that way.
Kenma was fine without friends.
But of course, not everyone seemed to think so.
His teachers were concerned, and, by extent, his parents were as well. So one day, they decided to arrange a friendship for Kenma.
They did not see the massive holes in their plan. For one, Kenma never talked to anyone outside his immediate family, and secondly, Kenma was actually unwilling to even attempt to make friends. He went along with it anyways, as he did with most things.
Thus, he met Kuroo.
Kuroo was the neighbors' kid. They invited the neighbors over, as they were good friends of Kenma's parents.
After Kenma's mom had hurried him out to the backyard, Kenma sat down on the cement steps, pulled out his DS, and started playing his most recent game; adamantly ignoring Kuroo.
Kuroo however, did not take the hint.
"Do you wanna play volleyball?" he asked after about three minutes of awkward silence. He had a volleyball tucked under his arm, which Kenma thought was weird.
A bolt of anxiety went through Kenma. This was a situation in which he was expected to talk. He felt his heart rate pick up and struggled to maintain his grip on his DS. His thoughts began to race with every outcome that could happen if he did so. Part of him tried to force some words out, but part of him stayed stubbornly silent.
After a few moments of internal struggling, Kenma managed to shake his head no.
"Do you know how to play?" Kuroo questioned after managing to interpret the tiny movement Kenma had made with his head as a 'no.' Kenma paused, and shook his head again.
Kuroo perked up. "I'll teach you! Please?"
Kenma wanted to say no, but he also wanted to say yes. So far Kuroo hadn't bothered him about not speaking, and he seemed nice enough. Besides, Kenma was curious.
So he nodded.
Kuroo grinned a shit-eating grin that Kenma would become all too familiar with over the following years.
Kuroo then seemed to notice that Kenma didn't have a volleyball net in his backyard. Kenma watched him as he thought about what to do. He then decided that Kenma would help him practice by tossing for him. He demonstrated how to set, and then had Kenma practice it a few times.
They set up a system, Kenma would toss it to Kuroo, and Kuroo would spike it.
Kenma had to admit, it was more fun than staring at an anthill, and the best part about it was that Kenma didn't have to talk during the process. Kuroo would say something occasionally but didn't seem to expect an answer.
They practiced for most of the night, and stopped when Kenma got tired and sat down on the steps once more. Kuroo sat down next to him and started talking about school.
School was one of Kenma's least favorite subjects but he listened anyways, zoning out whenever a cutscene came up in his game.
He learned that Kuroo was a year older than him, meaning he was nine, and wanted to play volleyball in middle school. Kuroo said a lot of other things but most of it was just philosophical nonsense. Kenma listened anyways.
Finally their parents called them inside.
"See you tomorrow," Kuroo called out to Kenma as he left.
What? Kenma wondered.
Kuroo appeared again the next afternoon holding a volleyball, and somehow, Kenma had obtained a friend.
A year passed and in that time Kenma slowly but surely became comfortable around Kuroo. He started talking around him gradually in quips and phrases, cracking jokes when he wasn't paying too much attention to his anxiety. Kuroo beamed at him the first time he said a word to him other than 'yes' or 'no'.
"Don't let this get to your already inflated ego," Kenma snapped upon seeing the look on his face. Kuroo just grinned wider.
There came a day where Kuroo was spiking the volleyball off of the tall fence in Kenma's backyard, while Kenma drew in the dirt with a stick – just like usual. Then, the sound of a car disrupted their daily afternoon routine. It seemed to stop on their street, and after a moment the engine turned off. Kuroo and Kenma looked up from what they were doing.
"Who would that be?" Kuroo asked. Kenma just shrugged in response. Kuroo and Kenma lived on the same street, with one house between theirs that belonged to two kind young women that lived there together. The car parked in front of their house, and it did not belong to either of the women.
A person in professional looking clothing exited the driver side door, then popped open the trunk and retrieved a garbage bag and a cardboard box. They then opened the back door and out came a scrawny child that looked to be about their age.
The child took the person's hand and they walked up to the gate of the front yard.
"Who's that?"
"How would I know?"
"I dunno. They're your neighbors, too." Kuroo stood up, volleyball tucked under his arm, and crept around to the front of Kenma's house to get a closer look. They poked their heads around the corner of the house and watched the strangers approach the front door and ring the doorbell. Moments later, the door opened and the two women happily greeted their guests.
"Do you think they're family?" Kuroo asked.
Kenma shook his head. "No, look, it looks like they're introducing themselves." He turned back towards the house and saw one of the women bending down to eye-level with the child, speaking to him with a gentle expression. He still clung to the person in his hand, seeming unsure. Kenma gestured towards them. "And look, that person's holding a box and stuff. Maybe he's staying or something."
"Ah, Kenma, observant as ever!" Kuroo grinned.
They watched as the pair finally entered the house, kicked off their shoes, and closed the door.
They emerged from their hiding spot.
"Do you think they're new neighbors?" Kuroo asked.
Kenma shrugged and started to walk to the backyard. Kuroo followed with a mischievous smirk on his face.
Kenma squinted knowingly at him. "What're you gonna do?"
Kuroo just grinned, turned around, and threw his volleyball into the backyard next to them.
Kenma glared at Kuroo, knowing full well that this meant he had to meet new people, which he hated with a passion.
Kuroo marched triumphantly up to the front door, Kenma trailing begrudgingly behind him.
Kenma shot him a look. Kuroo just grinned and knocked on the door.
The woman who opened the door had a kindly expression on her face.
"Oh hello, Kuroo-kun. Did you need anything?"
"Hi Ueno-san. I'm so sorry to bother you, but Kenma here accidentally spiked the volleyball into your backyard. I was wondering if we could go get it," Kuroo grinned politely and Kenma just glared at him again. He was sickeningly polite for a ten year-old.
"Of course! In fact, I bet Suguru would like to play with you while I take care of some paperwork. Suguru!" she called. Just a moment later the mysterious kid appeared in the doorway before them. "Would you like to play volleyball with the neighbors?" Ueno asked him. He looked uncomfortable. Kenma felt a wince of pain for him, as he too was being forced into this awkward social situation because of Kuroo.
"You don't have to if you don't want to," Kuroo chimed. Suguru shifted his gaze to him, squinting as though studying him.
Suguru then shrugged. "Okay."
"Stay next door, okay?" Ueno-san said.
"Okay."
They walked into the backyard and retrieved their volleyball, then headed over towards Kenma's house.
"There's no volleyball net here," Kuroo stated upon arriving at Kenma's backyard, "But sometimes we walk down the street to the park, cuz there's a net down there. We usually just stay here though, cuz Kenma doesn't wanna walk." Kuroo rambled on. Kenma started zoning out on a beetle crawling along the top of the fence.
"Do you know how to play?" Kuroo asked.
"Kind of," Suguru replied.
"Alright!
So they started to play. Kuroo and Suguru got along pretty well, and Kenma said nothing. He just observed, watching their interactions as he set for them. He decided he liked Suguru well enough. He seemed reserved, but Kuroo somehow had a way of getting him to talk, as he did with everyone.
After a bit of playing, Kuroo suggested they take a break. Kenma led them inside the house and to the kitchen, and Kuroo helped himself to a cup of water.
"Do you want a cup, Suguru?" Kuroo asked.
"Eh?" Suguru looked taken aback. "O-Oh, yes please, thank you."
Kuroo paused with his hand in the cabinet and looked back at him. "Hm? Something wrong?"
"Oh, just most kids don't call me that."
"What do they call you?"
"Daishou."
"Is that your family name?"
"Yeah."
"Would you rather us call you that?"
"Um… yeah, I think so."
"Alright," Kuroo finished filling up the cup with water. "Here you go, Daishou."
"Thanks," he replied. He took the cup and gulped down the contents along with the other boys. Kuroo took it upon himself to fill up the empty conversation with light chatter about volleyball.
"Five in the morning?!" Daishou exclaimed. "You're lying!"
"I'm not!" Kuroo replied.
"You're totally lying."
"Kenma, isn't it true that I get up at five and go running?" Kuroo turned to Kenma, who nodded in response. "Ha! Told you."
"Whatever, you're crazy." Daishou stuck his tongue out at him. He then looked back at Kenma and observed him.
"Why doesn't she talk?" Daishou finally asked. Kenma winced at the words, for many different reasons.
"Uhhh," Kuroo glanced nervously at Kenma. Kenma nodded. "Actually, Kenma's a boy. And he only talks to people he's really close to, like family and close friends."
"He looks like a girl." Daishou said.
"Well just because he might look like a girl doesn't mean he is!" Kuroo retorted. "Plus, Kenma is a boy's name!"
"Oh, okay. That makes sense. Sorry I called you a girl, Kenma." Daishou replied.
Kenma smiled inwardly. He hoped he and Kuroo would be friends with Daishou.
And they were. After a few months Kenma started talking around Daishou, too.
In the beginning, there was lots of laughter. After Kenma got more comfortable around Daishou, he felt as though he'd never laughed more in his life.
They were young. They were naive to what was to come. They were happy, and it seemed like they always would be. It seemed like they would be friends forever. Like the times, the joy, and even the pain that they shared together would never end.
Of course they weren't okay. Kenma knew he certainly wasn't, but he was blinded by his own shit to see what was going on around him. He was blinded by his own darkness, and blinded by Kuroo and Daishou's brightness. He was dumb and he was naive to think that things were okay.
But they pretended. They pretended weren't damaged. Each of them thought they were the only one with troubles, each of them knew better than to hide it, but did anyways.
Kenma could look back and realize this now. He only wished he could go back and change it.
It was the last week of school of Kenma's second year, and things were starting to change.
Kenma and Kuroo were sitting on Kenma's bedroom floor, Kenma quietly drawing. The feeling that comes with the last week of school was instilled in the very air. Kenma could practically feel himself inhaling the false nostalgia and shattered expectations.
Kuroo was reading his book, both of them in a comfortable silence. Yet there was something insidious crawling behind Kenma's skin. That last week of school felt like the beginning of an end.
"I kissed Daishou." Kuroo suddenly blurted out, just as surprised that he said it as Kenma was.
"Oh," was all Kenma said in response. They were silent for a few more moments. "How do you feel about that?" Kenma asked finally.
"I don't know," Kuroo put down his book and held his head in his hands, obviously somewhat distressed. "Would it bother you?"
"I couldn't care less. But I'd be happy for you."
"Did you know?"
"Kind of. Did you?"
"No," Kuroo admitted. "What should I do?"
"Whatever you want to."
They went back to sitting in silence. Even though they had different things on their minds, there was a sort of solidarity in the calm quiet.
After a while, Kuroo stood up. Kemna gave him a puzzled look.
"I'm gonna go talk to him," he said. It was almost posed like a question.
The silence descended again. Kuroo didn't move.
"Everything's gonna be fine," Kenma reassured.
Kuroo only shrugged in response. He then left Kenma's room, taking the comfortable silence with him.
The next day, Kuroo and Daishou held hands on the way to and from school. Kenma pretended not to notice.
Things were different after that, but only slightly, and they weren't bad either.
Kenma knew Kuroo and Daishou well. He knew they made each other happy, he knew how they felt about it each other. It was so glaringly obvious if you only looked.
Kenma remembered that summer well. It stuck out in his mind as the last summer everything was good.
Kuroo and Daishou were happy, and Kenma was happy by extent. It still seemed like the world was theirs. It still seemed like things would always be good.
It seemed. But by the end of summer the picture started to shift.
Suddenly, for some reason unknown to Kenma, Kuroo started avoiding Daishou. He wouldn't invite him to hang out with him and Kenma, he wouldn't text him, he wouldn't go with Kenma when he went to Daishou's house. He avoided any and all contact with him.
Kenma thought it was another one of Kuroo's sudden, brief breakdowns. He thought it would be over within the week.
It wasn't until it started going on a month that he started getting seriously concerned.
Daishou texted him frantically. "Why is he ignoring me? Did I do something?" he would ask constantly. "I don't know Daishou. I don't know." It wasn't long before Daishou became suspiciously quiet as well.
It was three weeks into the new school year when Kuroo showed up sobbing at Kenma's door. Kenma knew what happened. He didn't need to ask.
They went into Kenma's room and Kuroo rocked back and forth on the floor. Clutching his hair so hard that it seemed he was going to pull it from his skull.
"What have I done? What the fuck is wrong with me?" Kuroo repeated over and over again, punching the floor until his hand started showing a dark blue bruise. "It's all my fault it's all my fault it's all my fault," he started murmuring, immeasurable pain behind his eyes.
Kenma could only watch. He didn't offer any comfort, he didn't know what to do. So he sat there, and watched his and Kuroo's lives fall apart. Somewhere, he knew Daishou's was doing the same.
Just like that, Daishou was wrenched from their lives. One day, he was there, in a sense, and the next, he was gone. Kuroo looked dead behind the eyes for the following months.
Kenma knew Kuroo well, and he knew despite Kuroo's acts, that he was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Daishou. He also knew nothing would ever fix whatever Kuroo had done.
So they were stuck like that, back to pretending things were okay. Even though they both knew they weren't. They weren't naive anymore. Things would change and people would leave and you'd never see them again. When those people left they would leave behind good memories, which would dig in and hurt because those memories, those sensations, would never be felt again.
Kenma was left with the realization that he wasn't, in fact, okay. He was left with the realization that one of his only friends had been ripped from his life. He was left with the realization that things end.
Kuroo and Daishou went on to separate high schools. Kenma was left behind in junior high; left behind and left with the realization that things, no matter how good, always fall apart.