A/N:

Okay, just a heads up, there are suicidal thoughts and a bit of blood in this chapter. Sorry I've not posted in a long time, I'm really trying to finish this but it's so hard. Also, listen to this song:

watch?v=dYOaOzTPsH8

It's honestly the epitome of Kuroo/Kenma, those self-sacrificing bastards, lol.

Scratch

Chapter 23:

A Step in the Wrong Direction

There was a knock at Kenma's apartment door, waking him up. He groaned, rolling over to check the time on his phone. 7:59am. Who the hell was at his door at 8 in the morning? Kenma groaned again, pushing Colin off of him and stood up, wobbling for a second. Stretching, he shuffled to his door and opened it without bothering to check the peephole.

"Good morning!" Kuroo announced, a hand hidden behind his back. Kenma stared at him. Was today something special? Why was he here at 8 in the - oh. Kuroo revealed the flowers hidden behind his back, and smirked. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Happy Valentine's Day," he mumbled, taking the flowers and stepping aside. Kuroo walked in without a care in the world, a big grin still on his face. Kenma stared at the bouquet in his hands and couldn't help but smile. They were beautiful, a multitude of bright colors and shades of red and pink. He took a deep whiff. They even smelled amazing. "They're great, thank you. I'll put them in a vase right now."

The two men walked into the apartment's kitchen, and Kenma searched for a vase. When he couldn't find one, he settled for a tall glass and filled it up with water. The setup didn't look as fancy as it would have with an actual vase, but it was close enough.

"I kind of feel bad, I didn't get you anything… I might have forgot it was Valentine's Day," Kenma admitted shyly. Kuroo deserved all the presents and the chocolate, and Kenma had completely forgotten. What a joke.

"No worries, I know how you've been the past couple of days."

Even Kuroo knew when not to push, when Kenma needed time for himself, when he needed to just check out for the world… Kuroo was amazing, and Kenma didn't understand. He didn't understand at all. The thought popped into his head before he could stop it:

Why were they together?

They talked for a while, Kenma fading in and out of the conversation. He felt dizzy. Suffocated. All types of shitty feelings. Kuroo took mercy upon him and kissed him on the forehead, leaving for work early. Kenma sat in the same spot for quite a while, until he realized he needed to get ready. He went through the actions of going to work. He hardly remembered showering.

When he got to work, he realized today was going to be a bad day. Not because of anything big, but everything trivial was bothering him. He had tied his shoe three times, and it kept coming untied. He would tie his right shoe, and then, five steps later, his left shoe would come untied. The person in front of him hadn't held the door, and it has closed shut, hitting him in the face. It had hurt like hell. His stomach began to hurt, too.

Kenma had tried working, he really did. He had tried pushing everything out of his mind and focusing on his video games, but it didn't work. It wasn't really a surprise. Years of this shit happening to him, Kenma knew how to recognize if the day was salvageable. As the morning went on, his stomach began to get more and more nauseous.

At 11:30, he threw up and went home.

He didn't bother going into his apartment. Instead, he went straight to Shouyou's apartment and knocked on the door. The door opened almost immediately, and Kenma relaxed. Just seeing his best friend made him feel a bit better.

"You better come on in," Shouyou said, noticing how Kenma felt. He, too, was able to recognize Kenma's moods. It was just harder for him to handle the moods. He stepped aside, and Kenma walked into the apartment. He paused for a second, debating something. Shouyou was pulled into a hug. That was a warning sign if he knew one. "What's wrong?"

They talked for a little bit, Shouyou skirting around the question.

"What's wrong?"

Kenma burst into tears. He hunched over on the couch, a sobbing mess. He sounded like a dying cat but he didn't care. Holding his hands against his neck, he pressed himself as close together as possible. Maybe if he was in the smaller position possible, he'd just disappear. That would fix everything, right?

Between hiccups and short breaths, he tried explaining himself. Shouyou rubbed his back. Kenma tried to articulate his words better, but it was hard. "It's just - he's too… he's too good for me, Shouyou! He cares so much about me, and I'm just … I'm me."

"What are you trying to say?" Shouyou said, the clipped tone giving away his anger. He took a deep breath, and his voice evened out. "Are you saying that you're not good enough for him? Are you -"

He was cut off by Kenma's head jerking up.

"Yes! That's exactly what I'm saying, Shouyou! He's too good for me. I'm a depressed piece of shit that can barely function. And you know what? He doesn't … he doesn't deserve this. I don't deserve him."

They were both silent, for a long time. Kenma's ragged breaths could be heard. That was it. Even the usual hum of the heater had decided to shut up. It was bad.

"I need a shower," Kenma said, finally. He stood up, ignoring the dizziness that came along with it. Shouyou stood up to match him. "I'm gonna take some nausea meds and take a shower."

Shouyou watched with sad eyes as Kenma walked away. He didn't understand how Kenma couldn't see all the good things about him. Kenma opened the door, and Shouyou called out, "Don't do anything you'll regret."

No answer.

"Shit," he muttered, and reached for his phone. If Kenma wouldn't listen to him, then he would call someone who Kenma did listen to. He just hoped it wouldn't backfire on him. Four rings, and the phone clicked. "Hey, Kuroo?"

Kenma knew he was bad. This was one of the worst days in a long time. Anger flared randomly, and he had to hold himself back from breaking something. He rarely had to worry about anger, but when he did, it was a bad sign.

In his bathroom, he shut himself away from all the noises and distractions of the apartment. He held his head between his knees and took deep breaths. Would there ever be a time that he wouldn't fuck things up by existing? He sure hoped so.

Kenma took a long shower, hot enough for it to burn his skin. It didn't matter. He wondered when he ever started being so self destructive. After his shower, he threw up again. It didn't make him feel any better. He took some anti-nausea medicine and shuffled around his house. Small house keeping things kept his mind off how he felt. But only for a little bit.

A knock on his door jolted him out of his daze.

He opened the door to the apartment. Kuroo. He was both surprised and not all that surprised. It might have been Shouyou, but besides him, who ever visited him? Kuroo smiled and held up a grocery bag. "Shouyou told me you were sick. I brought chicken noodle soup and movies."

Kenma tried to smile. He really, really, did. It turned out more of a grimace. Kuroo was nice enough not to mention anything.

"Thanks."

"No problem. You go ahead and sit, I'll warm up the soup," Kuroo said, immediately going into the kitchen. Kenma walked to the couch and sunk into it. He didn't feel good. At all. He would have thought Kuroo taking care of him would make him feel better. But he didn't. If anything, it made him worse.

It made him think.

That was violating rule #1 during a bad day: don't fucking think. If he ever thought more than necessary during the day, he would overthink everything. His brain would immediately go to the worst case scenario. To insults and self-hate. Over-exaggerating memories. Self-destructing thoughts, and self-destructive thoughts led to self-destructive actions.

Over and over.

He's too good for me. He's too good for me. He takes care of me when I'm sick. He watches me. Makes sure I'm okay. Gives me my space. Understands me. Waits for me. He's too good. Too good.

Over and over. Self hate.

I'm not good enough for him. Not good for him. He deserves someone who can hug and kiss him without tiptoeing. Someone who's happier more often than sad. A functioning adult. I can't be good for him. I'm not.

"Kenma?"

He barely registered Kuroo talking to him. Mental illness was hypocritical. For as much as his brain liked to over-think, he definitely didn't think his next words through. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he even realized he was talking.

"I think we should go our separate ways."

Kuroo almost dropped the bowl. For a long time, he didn't say anything. Just stared at the soup. He took a deep breath and put the bowl down on the table. When Kuroo wouldn't respond, Kenma got nervous. And when Kenma gets nervous, he babbles.

"I'm trying, you know? I'm trying so hard to be a good person, a good match for you, but I can't. I want to be someone you don't need to worry about, someone that's healthy for you. I'm trying but it's not working. You don't deserve this. I don't deserve you."

"What exactly are you saying, Kenma?" Kuroo asked slowly, drawing out the vowels. Like he didn't even want to ask, but had to. Maybe the longer he would wait to ask, the more likely Kenma would be to change his mind.

He doubted it, but he could dream, couldn't he?

Avoiding eye contact, Kenma coughed. He picked at his fingers, his jacket, the couch. Anything to take his attention away from the situation at hand. He wished he could control his thoughts better. Look what overthinking did to him.

"I think we should break up."

Kuroo was silent for a long time.

"Okay. If that's what you want."

Kenma didn't respond. He never actually said yes, Kuroo, this is what I want. He never actually said it, and yet, Kuroo was still turning away, his lip wobbling. He never said it, and Kuroo still leaves without another word. He never - he never said it.

Because it wasn't true. Kenma didn't want it. He wanted to be with Kuroo for as long as he lived, he wanted to be with him forever. But Kuroo didn't deserve to be stuck with him. Kenma wanted him to stay, and Kuroo was still leaving, leaving - gone.

He sat there in silence. He didn't know how long. His time perception had gone to shit the second Kuroo walked out the door. His stomach didn't feel nauseous anymore. The only thing he could feel was a giant hole in his heart. Then, everything hit him at once, and all of his emotions flare.

Kenma lost it.

Giant sobs wracked his body, everything hurt. He went into the kitchen and broke the glass that held the flowers. A piece of glass nicked his skin, but he didn't feel it. A breakdown, a tantrum, any word for it, he was having it. Kenma tripped over one of the cats, and he realized he had hurt Clyde. Sinking down on the kitchen floor, he cried, and cried, and cried. He held Clyde and petted him, the rhythmic motion as the only thing he could pay attention to. The rest of the cats curled up around him, doing their best to help their owner. Kenma pet each and every one of them, crying into Lynn's fur. He cried some more until he tired himself out.

He curled up in a ball on the tile, because that's the only thing he could do.

Several hours later, Kenma woke up. His legs were stiff and his eyes were sore. Two cats were on top of him, and one had their butt in his face. He didn't feel any better. In fact, somehow, he felt worse. This was who he was now, crying until he passed out on the kitchen floor.

Yeah, he felt worse.

Kenma doesn't even bother getting up. His cats are comfortable, it doesn't really matter if he is or not. All he can do is think. Think, think, think. Thinking is what got him into this mess, and he doubts that it would get him out of it. He can feel his phone sticking him in the side. Maneuvering carefully around his cats, he dug the phone out of his pocket. Somehow, while he had fallen asleep, it had gotten dark and the brightness from the phone made him squint. 10:49pm. Four missed texts from Shouyou. None from Kuroo.

It stings.

What was he expecting? A long, detailed, grand gesture of romance? A text begging for him to come back? Kenma wasn't the one who left, and all of it was his fault. It shouldn't hurt, but it did. God, it did. Here he was, overthinking everything again. His mind was at least consistent on that factor.

All the shitty times in his life came flooding back. Why not? He already felt shitty, why not add the past to it?

He remembered when his mom left, without a word, when he turned 16. He remembered his dad drunk more than sober, and how he always ruined holidays. How Kenma had worked full time to put himself through college, and how bad he was treated at work. He never had gotten a break until he had met Nekoma. And then what happened? He fucking died, that's what happened. All the sympathetic sorry's couldn't do anything for him. All those times he was bullied, too. Everything in his life had been shit except for Shouyou and Kuroo. And Kenma fucked the second one up.

"Shit," Kenma murmured to himself. He shouldn't be thinking about this stuff. That was the thing with mental illness, though. He couldn't control it. It did what it wanted, taking hostages along the way.

He wished he was strong enough to reach out. Shouyou was down the hall, but it still felt so far away. Kenma knew he would be fine with it, but he couldn't bring himself to try to get up and talk to Shouyou. He wanted to reach out, but he couldn't.

Who was there to reach out to, even if he could?

The longer Kenma stayed on the floor, the worse he got. He didn't know he could get worse, but he did. He thought he had been over the suicidal thoughts. Apparently not. It wasn't like he wanted to kill himself he just wanted to cease existing. There was a difference. He didn't want to actively die, just… not be here.

Kenma ruined the only good thing in his life, and he can't blame it on anyone else. The cats on top of him stirred, like they knew he was going downhill. Lynn nuzzled her way into Kenma's arm. Even his cats didn't help, and that's when he knew he was screwed.

The glass from the makeshift vase was still on the ground. His hand had stopped bleeding hours ago. Kenma thought that maybe it should start bleeding again. He reached out, slowly. He registered his arm stretching, but it was weird. Everything was moving. Kenma was dizzy even though he was stationary. Annoyed meows were heard, then became distant. A figure appeared in his vision.

Suddenly, he was upright.

Kuroo was standing in front of him, eyes wild. He gripped Kenma's forearm enough to hurt, and the glass dropped from his hand. Kenma's mouth was dry and his voice was groggy, but he spoke anyway. "Why - why are you here? I just - how are you able to be here right now?"

Kuroo's eyes widen, and his face went soft. He pulled Kenma into a tight hug. Cats curled around their legs, tails swishing back and forth.

"I knew this would happen. I told myself not to come, but I care about you too much. I couldn't let you hurt yourself," Kuroo whispered into Kenma's ear. They rocked back in forth in the dark kitchen for a long time. Kuroo hummed a song he didn't recognize.

Kenma cleared his throat. "Why?"

"I care about you so much. I don't care what we are, I want you to be happy. I can push my emotions aside to help you. If breaking up with me makes you happy, then…" Kuroo said, trailing off at the end. He held Kenma at arm's length, a hand cupping his cheek. "I will gladly leave your life."

Kuroo just stared at Kenma, love overflowing his eyes and his touch. He wiped away all of Kenma's tears. Kuroo looked at Kenma with so much love and warmth that he wanted to scream. How did he end up with such a wonderful person?

Kenma broke down and starts bawling. He tried to talk. In between hiccups, he managed, "I'm not happy! I'm not happy at all, but when I'm with you, I'm a little bit better."

They both know it's not healthy. But if being with Kuroo makes him happy, then Kenma will start there. He'll start there, and get better from there on. He'll learn to lean on people. He'll learn to be a pillar of strength on his own.

Eventually, he'll learn to cope.

Eventually, he'll find balance.

But he'll find it with Kuroo.