Scratch

Chapter 4:

Sappy Metaphors

Kenma grimaced as his character died, yet again. At this point, he had lost track of how many times his character had died and he wasn't able to pass the level. Usually he was really good at the game he was playing; it wasn't that difficult or complicated: it was just a game on his phone. But for some reason, he was off his gaming-game today… and Kenma knew exactly why.

Exiting out of the app, he checked the top of his phone for the time. 5:45pm. Even though he had been a half hour early - he got off work at 5 - he was unnaturally nervous. Well, more nervous than he usually was. This type of anxiety he was feeling was the dreading type, as opposed to the self-conscious type.

He really, really, didn't want to talk to anyone, but the universe has been against Kenma all day, and would probably continue to be. He couldn't back out of this one.

That morning, he had somehow managed to get to work on time. Thank goodness, too, because Kenma had a really big meeting today and could definitely not be late for it. Kenma hates meetings with everything he has: they require him to talk to not only the people he didn't know very well at his own company, but from other companies as well.

It went terrible.

Probably a side effect from the previous night, Kenma had reverted back to stuttering. It was embarrassing, stuttering in front of a bunch of higher ups in the gaming industry, yet the more Kenma tried not to, the more he actually ended up stuttering. Somehow, he wasn't entirely sure how, but he made it through the meeting without crying or fainting.

That was just this morning, and everything went downhill from there.

It was like his entire company decided today was Talk To Kenma Day. People kept coming up, asking him questions about games that really could've been solved easily without his help, talking to him casually, and worst of all - mentioning what the day was. Yeah, it was Friday, yeah it was November 17th, but what really was the day?

The two month anniversary (why do people call things like that anniversaries? he wondered) of Nekomata's death. Kenma knew what day it was, he understood what that meant - he did not need reminders or condolences from people he could barely put a name to a face.

So, when Kenma finally got out of work (he actually left at 4:45pm - screw everyone else), it was a fresh of breath air. Literally. The air inside the building was stuffy, and the air outside was clean, cold, and crisp, successfully calming him down as much as he could be.

He had driven slowly over to the clinic, parking two blocks away and walked into the sub shop. Seeing as it was a casual little cafe-esque place, Kenma went into the bathroom and changed out of his nice clothes and into something more comfy - his favorite sweater and jeans. It was fall, the beginnings of a cold winter, after all, and he had always had a soft spot for sweaters. This one, especially. The sweater was black and a little bit too big for him which kept his butt warm, with a bright orange cat smack dab in the front. It actually suited him quite well.

Plus, it was long enough for Kenma to wipe his hands if they got too sweaty - as they were right now. He again checked his phone. 5:52pm. Was it really necessary to be this nervous?

No. But it's Kenma. He worries about everything.

Trying not to bring too much attention to himself, he got up and brought his cup back to the front. He asked for a second hot chocolate with a quiet voice and the barista smiled at him. Kenma decided then that he liked the barista; his smile was really refreshing and the guy was really cute, too with his grey hair and beauty mark. He gave off the everything'll-be-alright-I-promise! vibe. It was comforting, in its own way.

"Thanks," Kenma mumbled, exchanging the money he owed for the hot chocolate. The barista didn't say anything, but smiled again and Kenma couldn't help but look at the nametag: Sugawara Koushi.

The name sounded familiar, and it took him a second, but he finally remembered where he had heard the name before. No wonder. Sugawara was the guy Shouyou always said is super nice and "stuff." Kenma thought about mentioning Shouyou as a polite conversation starter, but eventually decided against it, since that would mean talking to someone.

He shuffled back to his seat. The table was strategically chosen: in the corner, not to gather attention, but close enough to see the door easily and make a quick exit to the restroom, if needed. Kenma hoped it wouldn't be needed.

Hearing the ding signaling that someone had entered the shop, Kenma looked to the door to see Kuroo walk in. He looked really good, he decided, with his pair of jeans, a plaid shirt and a nice jacket. His hair was still a big mess, but then again, when wasn't Kuroo's hair a mess? Kenma didn't bother to wave to him, since Kuroo picked him out the second he had walked in.

Grabbing and paying for a bagel and drink, he sauntered over to Kenma's table and flopped on the chair opposite. Kuroo put up his elbows on the table, his head cocked in his hands, and without skipping a beat said, "Yo."

How a simple greeting like that could make Kenma nervous, he didn't know, but it did. It really, really did.

"H-hi," he stammered back, irritated with himself at continuing to stutter. He sighed, and with more determination,tried again: "Hi, Kuroo."

Kuroo smiled, a real, genuine smile that made Kenma feel a bit more at peace. He ripped a part off his bagel and stuffed it in his mouth, and chewed, looking straight at Kenma. Kuroo's eyes looked watchful, as if they were trying to figure out what he was thinking. They probably were, and they probably did, considering how Kuroo's smile turned into a smirk.

Kenma knew he shouldn't ask. But he did. "What?"

"Mmm… nothing, really. I was just thinking," Kuroo commented offhandedly.

Don't - don't do it, Kenma.

"About what?"

Damn it.

"You," Kuroo laughed as Kenma rolled his eyes, "But seriously, I was trying to figure you out. Then, I realized you probably wouldn't like that, so I decided to just ask you."

Kenma just stared, taking a second to decide how to react. There wasn't a correct choice, and he knew he was overthinking it. The throbbing in his temples wasn't helping much, either. He sighed instead, leaning forward and putting a hand to his forehead. This headache was really killing him. Kuroo was killing him a little, too.

"Then, you did figure me out," Kenma muttered, rubbing his temples. He didn't understand why it was so easy for Kuroo to see right through him. Was he that transparent? Kuroo chuckled and took another bite of his bagel. To distract himself from his inner monologue, Kenma looked at the bagel and made a face.

"What?"

"Don't you use cream cheese?" Kenma sighed, utterly disgusted.

"Should I?" Kuroo answered, this time with his mouth full. Kenma decided it wasn't really worth it. Before they could talk about something else completely unnecessary, like he had hoped, Kuroo asked The Question: "What happened?"

For a second, Kenma didn't know what he was talking about. Then, everything came rushing back and he understood that Kuroo was asking about the phone call from the previous night. Wonderful.

Suddenly wishing they actually did talk about unnecessary things, he looked away from Kuroo and stared hard into his hot chocolate. He cleared his throat, once, twice, and mumbled something incomprehensible. Kenma knew the other man didn't hear him, but just in case, he looked at his face. Kuroo's eyebrow was quirked in confusion. Of course.

"Nothing happened," he eventually replied, the gears in his mind turning for an excuse. Kenma paused, thinking things through. Should he explain? Would Kuroo understand him? Kenma glanced up at the man sitting across from him, his eyes fixed with curiosity and maybe a bit of worry. It was Kuroo, of course he'd understand, he understood everything, whether Kenma liked it or not.

"Nothing happened, and that's why it was bad," Kenma clarified, staring at a spot on the table. Maybe if he stared hard enough, it'd catch on fire and he could avoid this conversation. Deep down, he knew there wasn't anything forcing him to talk, so maybe somewhere inside, buried under years of depression and anxiety, he wanted to talk. To tell Kuroo everything.

His eyes flitted up to Kuroo again, noticing a slight frown on his face and tore his gaze away, again. Naturally, Kuroo would probably think it would be stupid to be sad for no reason. That's what usually happened; Kenma would explain himself, and everyone would hightail it away from him.

Except for his therapist, of course, but they were being paid. They didn't count.

"Being sad without a reason makes the sadness worse?" Kuroo questioned, although it sounded more like a statement. He was probably repeating it, to make sense of it. Kenma nodded in response. "So you needed to hear someone's voice, right?" He nodded again. "That actually makes sense. I was worried something really terrible happened, or something."

"Mm," Kenma grunted in reply. He wasn't sure what to say at this point, so instead he took a long sip of his drink. He knew drinking wouldn't get him out of talking forever, but it worked for right now. Turns out, he didn't need to reply at all.

"Hey, can I be really cheesy and dumb for a sec?" Kuroo requested, an impish grin on his face.

It probably wasn't a great idea to agree to but Kenma always seemed to follow whatever Kuroo wanted. He nodded, although carefully. Kuroo's eyes lit up, and he bit his lip before opening his mouth to speak. If Kenma hadn't spent years observing other people, he wouldn't have noticed the subtle difference in the color of Kuroo's cheeks. They were tinged with pink. Maybe it was because it showed Kenma wasn't the only awkward one, but for whatever reason, it made him feel just a bit better.

"I'm, uh, actually really glad that you called me. Yeah. I'm sure you thought it was a bother, and to be honest, it was, since I was asleep, but I much rather you bother me so I can help in any way," he confided, an unexpected shy smile on his face. "So, please bother me all you want."

And there it was, Kuroo's slight half smile half smirk thing. There it was, and it was amazing. And then, as if all the world's mysteries had been solved, Kenma understood why he called Kuroo and not Shouyou.

Shouyou was the sun. He lit up Kenma's day, bringing the bright sunshine after a long, dark, lonely night. Kuroo was nowhere near being a sun. If anything, he was the dependable moon in the sky, illuminating the constant darkness just enough that it was possible to navigate through the nighttime.

Kuroo was the one he had needed: the illumination of the immediate darkness. Kenma hadn't needed the sunshine after the dark had already dissipated on its own. Chuckling to himself, he couldn't help but feel somewhat amused by his cliche metaphor, but he didn't really care at the moment. The metaphor worked, and it made sense, everything else didn't really matter.

Kenma glanced up at the man sitting across from him. Kuroo had his head resting in his hand, gazing at him fondly, watching with vague interest. He was probably wondering what Kenma was thinking, why he was smiling - but it was obvious that Kuroo thought it was fine if he didn't know, because he didn't ask.

A slow smile spread across Kuroo's face as well, and Kenma briefly wondered if he knew he was smiling like that. The smile was gentle, and Kenma wondered again, how many people had seen him smile like that? The expression was so minor that Kenma wondered, for a third time, did people even notice it?

Staring at Kuroo, a realization dawned on Kenma. The realization was so simple, but so groundbreaking, that even sitting in a small sandwich shop, eating food, drinking hot chocolate, anything seemingly mundane suddenly felt very surreal.

God damn it if it was cheesy, and god damn it if it was cliche, Kenma understood that he prefered the moon over the sun, any day, any night. After all, the sun was 92,960,000 miles away and could still leave Kenma sunburnt, but the moon cast a gentle glow over everything, making the dark seem not so… dark.

He might have loved the sun, but the moon is what he really needed.