Chapter Forty-Three
Noya drags him to a different room for dinner and he drags Kenma to that same place, it's an identical room to the one from yesterday but it lacks the tension and stares- and the panic, Kenma separates him from Tsukishima, who keeps glancing at him; Shouyou is pretty sure he's not supposed to notice, even when the other middle blocker is doing a very bad job at hiding his looks. Everything is not weird other than that, bowls are passed one by one until the first one is about to reach him and is abruptly jerked away by long fingers. There's a flash of white, too white that is now shaking, Shouyou glances into gold and can feel Kenma's hesitance as if it were his own. "Kenma?" He tries, not really sure how to feel about his protector refusing him food. Kenma's throat shifts, a swallow loud enough to make Tsukishima cringe beside them, "Uh-" The older boy explains quickly, before his lips slide shut, there's a shifting in Kenma's facial muscles, rolling his mouth and wiggling his nose before a big sigh comes out. "It's rice." Kenma finally says, Shouyou flinches, though he's not sure why.
"I'll be fine."
Kenma doesn't look convinced.
"He's not here." The words are harsh but he doesn't mean them to be, he knows Bokuto-san didn't mean to do anything wrong, but there's still something that sets him on edge when the older boy is around, like two realities threatening to collide whenever the older boy speaks. There's another sigh and a half curious look from Tsukishima before the bowl is put in front of him, Kenma grabs onto his hand, slipping chopsticks from one sweaty palm into another and Shouyou feels his blood starting to pump a little slower. "It'll be fine." He promises, even when he's not sure of that himself. The older boy sees through him easily, like Shouyou knows he would, he offers a smile and Kenma just turns away with a roll of his eyes. The middle blocker is pretty sure that he sees a familiar quirk of lips before Kenma's face turns into sweaty hair, smiling is a little easier after that.
"Thank you for the meal!" The room bellows before he even glances down at the table, familiar tones draw his attention and he easily finds out why Noya-senpai decided to drag him here. The Karasuno team looks at him in the same way that he looks at him, curious and a little shocked; he finds Daichi's gaze easily, the older boy offers him a stern faced nod, rice already hanging from his cheek. He nods back, equally as stone faced and the older boy rolls his eyes, Suga-san nods to him, easy and warm smile that makes him a little uneasy with guilt. Kenma draws his attention after that, golden irises rubbing away guilt until its barely there, the older boy glances down at the table, gesturing him to eat, his gaze doesn't follow as easily, still worried he might hear too many voices when he does.
The bowl is less white than he remembers when he finally manages to force his eyes in that direction, crisp green and sizzling brown stain areas where too much white had been settled before, he's not really sure how Kenma had done that without him noticing and he worries a little that his spacing out is going to cause an episode. "Shouyou." Not-Kenma says before he even manages to spread his chopsticks between his fingers, his head flicks in the voice's direction and lands on Tsukishima, curious gaze replaced with irritation. "Eat." The taller boy commands, a weird sneer rippling at crooked lips. He does but not because Tsukishima told him to, little bites that are carefully observed by the other middle blocker, "Good boy." There's a barely there change in tone that makes his gut curl strangely around lettuce and strips of beef.
"Kenma?" The blond boy turns back to him, echoes of a hard look following the flicking of hair, there's a hum of acknowledgement and inquiry wrapped into one while long fingers settle on his thigh. "You need to eat, too." His voice is quiet and almost shaky but gesturing to Kenma's bowl draws the older boy's attention well enough. Unfamiliar color spreads across Kenma's cheeks, "Right." A nod confirming his own words that makes Shouyou a little nervous, he waits until Kenma swallows his first morsel before making his move, settling his fingers over the back of Kenma's hand. Golden eyes lock onto his, locked features that only twitch when he isn't looking at them. "Are you okay?" He asks, words odd when they're not in Kenma's voice. There's a stiff nod that indicates otherwise before the older boy turns back to his meal, Shouyou follows the action, resorting to using his left hand to pick at his food so he can keep his right one wrapped in the older boy's fingers. The process of eating is much slower and easily draws notice from smirking teammates that he ignores along with the heat spreading across his cheeks, he's pretty sure he knows what Kenma was weird about earlier.
"So." Tanaka-senpai erupts when he's resorted to stabbing his food instead of picking it up, "So." Someone else echoes, sounding amused. "Something you'd like to tell us, Shouyou?" There's a series of snickers before someone adds, "Kenma?" The hand under his grows restless and Shouyou squeezes long fingers in as much of a reassuring gesture as he can give. "Nope." He quips, continuing to ignore imploring looks and the fact that Kenma's cheeks are as red as his own. "Nothing?" Tsukishima prods, "Nothing at all?" The other middle blocker sounds too smug for his liking but he ignores that too. "Shouyou?" Kenma asks, sounding equally uncomfortable and annoyed, he glances up at the older boy silently, not sure how to respond. There's a million words written in gold but Shouyou can't read any of them, "You should tell your team." Translated as if Kenma knows what he's thinking. Shouyou is pretty sure there's a lot he should be telling his team, the origin of his marks, that he was kicked out, that he had ripped his own skin off because he was lonely, that he was scared of someone for no reason, that he made a deal to hurt someone.
"I love Kenma." He says instead of following the hundred suggestions rippling across his tongue, he expects disgust and calculated distance, for dating the enemy who is also a boy enemy but the room is quiet and lacks the tension that he had been anticipating. "And?" Suga-san prompts. A glance at the older boy reveals another unsettling smirk, "Kenma loves me?" He offers, not sure what else there is to be said besides the truth. The room is quiet after that, he wonders if he said the wrong thing and a trembling settles into his bones under the scrutiny of his teammates. He watches as Noya jumps to his feet, presence punctuated with a growl and a gleam of teeth that he only just catches, the libero is behind Kenma in half a second and Shouyou feels the air start to crackle around them. "It was you!" The growling timbre makes him notice how feral his teammate looks, "N-Noya?" He half squeaks, trying to draw the older boy's attention as much as he's trying to avoid it. "You sick bastard!" The words stab into him, one by one until that trembling turns into icy stillness. This is not what he had expected at all when he introduced his team to Kenma. "Excuse me?" Kenma's tone is cold, more chilling than what's in his guts right now, frightening in a way that he's never seen before. The setter is standing now, spare centimeters making him tower over Noya in more than one way, "You're the one who-" The libero seems to realize where they are, Shouyou can just tell from the widening of darkened eyes and glances away from the two boys to glance at the shocked looks of his teammates. All of them looking like Noya had just voiced their thoughts. "It's not like that!" He jumps up now, attempting to push his arm between Noya's chest attempting to collide with Kenma's only to get stopped by long fingers across his ribs.
"Shouyou," Kenma says, soft as possible despite the tension and calm in a way he shouldn't be. "I think I need to speak with your teammate." Noya scoffs, he's pretty sure that spittle flicks off the older boy's chin and into the heavy air between them. "Ain't nothing to talk about! You're the one who-" There's a growl that vibrates the hairs on his arms and Shouyou takes a step back. "Nishinoya!" Daichi bellows, angry but not cold, the libero doesn't falter and leans forward until his forehead is practically pressing against Kenma's chin. "Come on, city boy." The libero hisses, jamming his shoulder against Kenma's taller one and leading the way out of the room. Kenma follows, a dangerous air around him that Shouyou is drawn to as much as he is terrified of. "Don't, Shouyou." Kenma says, calm and soft that contradicts the fierceness in unfamiliar golden irises.
He really hopes he was wrong about Noya actually carrying a knife.
There's an unsettling energy in his limbs after the two boys leave, his legs beg him to follow his protector but the older boy's orders keep him from opening the door that had been slammed shut. "Shouyou?" Suga-san asks, suddenly there and lingering over his shoulder with warm arms. "He's not-" His explanation is cut off with muffled shushes, steady breaths heating up the tips of his hair. "Suga-san?" He asks, too many questions in one. The setter is quiet despite his pleading, "You don't think-?" Shouyou isn't sure what he's asking entirely or if the older boy is even aware of anything that's going on. "They're just talking, Shouyou." He nods even if he doesn't believe it for a second, the last time he had talked there had been a plan with nine people about hurting Grand King. "It'll be fine." Suga-san promises, as if he held all the control. There's a long silence but questions travel through glances like static, Suga-san tries to keep his mind off of it, insisting that he eat the rest of his dinner but the idea of eating is repulsive enough that the middle blocker pushes his bowl away when Suga-san insists for the third time.
He waits at least three minutes before the need to find the other boys is making his feet itch, Suga seems to sense his unease before he does and grabs onto his wrist before he makes it a step towards the door, "They're fine, Shouyou!" Suga-san insists but he can't find a way to explain that the older boy doesn't know anything. "I can't just sit here!" He snaps back, making an attempt to jerk his hand away but Suga-san's arm follows. "Technically, you're standing." A voice quips from the table, he sends a sharp look in that direction before his attention is tugged back to the silver haired boy in front of him. "You don't understand!" He tries but Suga's grip only tightens. "Nobody understands anything, Shouyou!" He flinches from the retort but only because Suga-san's lips hadn't moved. A glance at the table from around the setter reveals the quaking form of Yamaguchi, "Y-You're hiding things and lying! You leave practice early and Kageyama said you jumped out of a window, do you even care, Shouyou? About us?" The air in the room seems heavier under Yamaguchi's narrowed eyes. "Of course!" He shouts back, confused and hurt, scared more than anything because Yamaguchi had always kept his head where it belonged. "Then why don't you act like it!" The words shatter anything and everything, Shouyou feels himself start crumbling until he's melted onto the ground, still pinned under the other boy's eyes. "You never tell us anything, about the marks. We wouldn't have cared if you were-" The taller boy's hands clench into fists, white like stone and trembling with rage.
"Tell us what's going on." Yamaguchi's anger dissipates with his words, tense shoulders slumping and something in the taller boy's eyes change; he's expecting a lot of things out of Yamaguchi, a good serve, a decent teammate, a friendly personality. This is not someone he knows, Shouyou is sure of that as much as he is unsure of anything going on around him these days. "I-" Escapes him before he can help it and he knows that he's trapped, that he would have to tell them something.
"You don't know anything." There's a laugh, a sick bitter thing he can't trace for almost too long, he thinks it might be out of fear. An odd shifting of confusion and anger bristles like a prodded wave, "Anything." He cements. The room roars as he turns his back, the shock taking even Suga-san by surprise long enough for him to take his arm back before the older boy even thinks to notice, the door is sliding shut behind him before he can see everything fall apart. He can hear it though, as he walks away, walks towards the last gym where Akaashi-san is lingering, looking calm but uncomfortable, "You look like crap." The older boy offers in greeting, the quirk in his lips and the vividness of his almost blue eyes show nothing but good humor, something that he's in desperate need of at the moment. "Yeah! Like shit!" Bokuto-san chirps, appearing from the shadows like a wild animal. Shouyou laughs, he hates how it sounds like the bitter cackling from before but the action feels nice, like he's releasing something that's been pent up for years. Bokuto-san laughs too, warm and hearty, Shouyou's not sure why he expected anything different.
The gym doors slide open and Shouyou steps inside, a weird smile cracking on his lips, it feels dangerous to have it on, wearing it like a crest, knowing that his team is going to be pissed. Something in him tells him not to care, that everything would fix itself before he knows it and he believes that voice enough that he accepts Bokuto-san's fist bump and an offer to teach him how to perform a legendary straight. The practice, something that went from a dreaded to desperately needed in the events of an hour, is intense, fast and Shouyou loves every moment of it. Sweat that had dried up and flaked off was layered over, his body heaved in a way that seemed almost cruel, Akaashi-san, easily one of the smartest people he had ever met, kept setting balls though, so Shouyou kept chasing them. Bokuto-san encouraged him to the point where he embraced those things, that not feeling like mush would be weird. It's distraction enough until he realizes that an hour has passed and Kenma was nowhere to be seen.
"Wait!" He calls, humor thrown across the room and nowhere to be seen in an instant, "I need to check on something." He offers to them, forming a grip on the gym door but his hands are too slippery and too weak, "Kenma-san?" Akaashi-san says, apparently more good at reading people than Shouyou had thought earlier. "Did something happen, Shouyou?" There's a pregnant half step of silence while Akaashi-san tugs the door open for him, a place for the honorific to run and hide while the door creaks open. "Yes-to both." He offers but nothing more, letting himself slide through the just big enough gap the door provides with Akaashi-san's second tug. "Everything is fine though," He calls over his shoulder, "They don't know anything." There's another laugh, an imitation of Bokuto-san's, just because he likes how it sounds, even when it sounds sinister when lit only by the moon. "We'll be in here, Shouyou!" The middle blocker isn't sure where here is but he easily waves the older boys off while his instincts lead him on barely lit paths around the school, attempting to deduce where Noya would take Kenma for an hour.
Finding them was easy enough, getting to them proved to be the real challenge, voices emitted from nothing but darkness held his answer. Shouyou was close enough to hear the inflection in Kenma's tone, each crisp twist of words that he barely recognizes because they don't sound like Kenma's words, they're colder in a way he doesn't understand. Noya's words are harsh, slung out like insults while he threatens the other boy's very existence. ''-Can't explain but you're gonna say you didn't do it." He catches from the fort of shadows, he's pretty sure that one of them is leaning against the blackened brick wall in front of him. The spot easily fills with insults and slurs that seem far too vulgar for even Noya-senpai but Shouyou refuses to blow his cover until the boys are done talking. "I know who, I don't know why, Nishinoya-san." The formality makes him cringe but fills him with dread all the same, Kenma's dangerous tone amplified with proper name usage sends something like lightning up his spine until he has to sit down under the street lamp he's leaning against. "Tell me who, then, you coward!" There's a growl, a shifting of material that makes him think that Noya had just grabbed onto his protector.
He's there before he can think of not being there, in the shadows, doing the thing he does best in the entire world. Jumping. Only it's in front of a swinging fist instead of a ball, his shoulder collides with Noya's stomach and sends the older boy toppling onto the grass. "Don't!" He yells, because somebody has to. "Shouyou?" Two voices call, both shocked and almost scared. "I can tell you." He says instead of answering, "But you have to promise to keep it to yourself. Senpai promise." He thinks it's dirty but he knows that it will work. Noya's eyes gloss over, anger and concern that shimmers like the moon. A nod. "Grand King." He sighs. Shouyou's never noticed before but his senpai has a very expressive face, open for him to read while he's sitting on the older boy's hip, preventing him from attacking Kenma again. "Oi-Oikawa?" The older boy splutters, shocked, who wouldn't be, he rationalizes. Shouyou nods this time, slowly, feels something weird slither into his heart with the weight of someone knowing. "He hurt you?" Blunt but not harsh, almost raised in pitch that makes him more concerned for Noya than anything else. He nods, feels sweaty clumps of hair tumbling forward until he can barely see the boy under him. "How long?" Shouyou laughs, that same weird one that sounds like Bokuto-san's. He's not even sure when it all started, much less sure of anything when the darkness is creeping over his skin.
Standing up, he offers the older boy his trembling hand, his senpai takes it almost immediately and helps himself to his feet, Shouyou leads the way out of the darkness, into the flickering lamp light he had been stalling in earlier. There's a dull yellow glow that settles over them, the older boys look like an ancient photograph, rough around the edges and wrinkly, worried captured in dim lights. "Too long." He offers as half an explanation, not sure if he should tell them anything more because Noya seemed like the type to run straight to Aoba Johsai and throttle the captain. "Since Interhigh." Is his final answer, those words are on his tongue, a finite description of how terrifying Grand King had been on that day. The acidic tone and the not wrong words that had settled in his head until he had said yes. Noya makes a noise, half growl and half gasp, he almost hugs the older boy but shaking fists and trembling shoulders make him take a step back, thoughts of Yamaguchi calling him out too fresh in his mind. I need to apologize, he knows that, not sure why the thought decides to repeat itself until he realizes that he has nothing to apologize for.
"I'm sorry." He offers to his upperclassman, a sole voice who knew but couldn't tell, just like him. There's a stiff nod that Shouyou thinks reflects more than it would like, the libero moves to walk away but stops in his tracks, "Nishinoya-san," Kenma calls, voice smooth and low. Unusual. "If it makes you feel any better, Oikawa Tooru won't be around much longer." Shouyou's heart stops for a second and doesn't pick up for another ten, he can see the words rolling over the air, a sick promise that makes his gut curl until it's cramping. His senpai turns around, teeth gleaming like silver in the yellow light above them, "I'll make o' that." The older boy explains, tone too cheery for Shouyou too appreciate at the moment.
The older boy whistles as he walks away, something he doesn't recognize but sounds happy. He wants Noya-senpai to be happy, he's just not sure the older boy can manage to do that now. "Kenma?" He asks, though he's not sure what he's asking of his protector. There's arms around his waist before he can tense up, long fingers digging into too many scars but Shouyou's not uncomfortable, not entirely, "Shouyou?" The older boy's voice is like gravel now, pressed against his ear with crisp hairs brushing against his own. "Akaashi-san- practice, I mean." There's a groan, something too light for what just happened but a chin thumps against his neck, over another scar and the older boy leads him towards the last gym, their fingers intertwined.