"Kuroko. Look at me."
They were sitting on the floor in Kagami's apartment. In front of them on a low table were two plates of food, rapidly cooling. Kagami had insisted on warming up some leftovers when they finally arrived, but neither of them had eaten much. Even Kagami, he of the legendary stomach, had only picked at his food.
Eventually, Kuroko gave up. He pushed himself back from the table and just sat on the floor, his hands pressed against his churning stomach, his eyes staring fixedly at nothing in particular. Kagami's food was always delicious, but he tasted only ashes in his mouth.
He knew what was coming next, and dread was a tight band around his chest. It shortened his breath and numbed his mind. The thoughts in his head were a rush of white static, panicked and discordant.
"Kuroko." Kagami sighed, long and weary and far, far removed the being of pure energy he usually embodied. "Will you look at me, please? At least do that."
Slowly, slowly, Kuroko raised his head and met Kagami's eyes. He blinked when he realized that Kagami looked almost as pained as Kuroko himself felt. Guilt choked him with the sudden realization of what he was doing to the kindest, most generous person he knew.
He had to look away again, blinking as if he'd been looking too long at a fire. His eyes stung. "I'm sorry," he murmured.
"Why?" Kagami's voice was completely mystified.
"I'm causing you so much trouble. I'm intruding in your home. I'm..."
"Oh my God," Kagami burst out in English before immediately going back to Japanese. "Stop that."
Kuroko's eyes rose involuntarily to find Kagami's face again. That wasn't pain in his voice—it was exasperation. Kagami's face was screwed up in a tight grimace of irritation.
"For pity's sake, Kuroko. You're my friend. You're not causing me trouble. Yeah, I'm hurting right now, but that's because you're hurt and I want to fix it. I want to... Ugh, I want to do so many things. But I can't do anything if you won't let me. I'm not gonna force you. So just... Stop looking so terrified, okay? You're safe here. You're safe now, with me, I swear it's true. I swear it."
Kuroko had to protest at that. "I know I am. I do. I just..."
"You know it in your head but not your heart." Kagami chuckled bitterly. "I know it will take time to convince you. I know... You've been through a lot, and not everything is going to be fixed right away. But we gotta start somewhere. So let's start with this."
Kagami scooted forward on the floor until he was right in front of Kuroko. Until their knees were almost touching. Kuroko, staring at the floor between them as if his life depended on it, watched his progress. Once he was close enough that Kuroko could hear every breath, sense every tiny vagary of movement, Kagami bent his head down to catch Kuroko's eyes.
Kagami's eyes were fierce. His voice was low and crisp and certain. "You're safe. You're scared now because we made that deal, right? I wouldn't make you go to the hospital if you let me have a look, myself. But now we're back here and you're scared to go through with it. I get it. I'm not going to hold you to it. So relax now, please? Please just...don't be scared anymore. I won't force you to do anything. I'll wait as long as it takes and I'll do whatever I gotta do, because you're my friend and I want to. Okay? You're safe. Even from me."
Kuroko fought for breath, for balance. Kagami never wavered. "Do you believe me?" he asked.
Kuroko struggled to hold his gaze, to not tear away and seek escape. He needed to be brave, he needed... Kagami's eyes were so bright. They were pure and bright and piercing, and never before had Kuroko been this incredibly, overwhelmingly aware of just how much light shone from this boy, from Kagami Taiga. Kuroko was a shadow, and he always had been, but never before had he been afraid of being burnt up in the sun.
But as he sat there, holding Kagami's stare with his own... It happened as it always did. The shadow strengthened in the light rather than being swallowed by it. Kuroko could feel his shoulders steadying, the churning in his stomach fading away. Kagami was strong, so strong that he could pass that strength along to anyone who happened to be near. Kuroko had seen and felt that on the basketball court. He saw and felt it now.
Eventually, Kuroko cut off the stare with a long, slow blink. He lifted his head and looked at Kagami straight on. Kagami raised himself from his bent position and looked back at him.
Kuroko nodded. His voice was quiet, but it was steady, and he knew he spoke the truth. "I believe you."
Kagami slumped in relief, his eyes closing for a moment. It was as if he'd been fighting a long, hard battle and only now found out that he'd won. "Good. I'm glad."
Kuroko's hands clenched in the fabric over his stomach. "I'll...let you look. I know you...won't judge me."
Kagami shook his head. His lips pressed together. "Believe me, the only person I'm judging is the bastard who did this to you."
Kuroko hesitated. He wanted to ask Kagami not to call his father that. But...well...he didn't really have a right to complain, did he? And it wasn't as if it was a lie.
After another moment to steel himself, Kuroko wrapped his hands in the bottom hem of his t-shirt and began to lift it.
"Wait." Kagami was holding out a hand to forestall him. Kuroko glanced up, eyebrows raised.
Kagami fidgeted where he sat, his face flushed with discomfort. "There's something else I have to ask you." His right hand fiddled with his cell phone, which had been resting on his thigh since soon after they sat down with their food.
Kuroko blinked. "What is it?"
"I... Please forgive me, Kuroko, but I asked my brother for advice." At Kuroko's intake of breath, Kagami waved his hand. "I didn't tell him it was you! I just said I had a classmate... Anyway, I'm sorry, I know you don't want anyone to know. But I needed help, so I asked him. He sent me a list of instructions not long ago, and..." Kagami bit his lip, then lifted the phone in his hand. "He said I should take pictures. For evidence. Will you let me?"
Kuroko stopped breathing. This went against everything, every command that had been beaten into him since he was eight years old. He didn't...he couldn't...
Kagami cursed in English. He leaned a little closer to Kuroko again, but didn't reach out to him. He could probably tell that Kuroko would fly to pieces at the lightest touch. He began to speak, low and fast. "Kuroko, don't be scared. I said you're safe here, remember? This is just...insurance. If maybe someday you feel ready, ready to talk to the authorities about this, we'll need to have more than just our word against his. But if you're never ready, that's okay, too. I'll move all the pictures to a flash drive and give it to you, and you can keep it or throw it away or whatever you need to do. But just in case, all right? Just in case."
"Yes," Kuroko said, interrupting the deluge of words. "All right."
Kagami sat back. He clasped his hands together to keep them still. "Are you sure?"
Kuroko nodded. He was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of hiding, tired of thinking. If Kagami thought it was necessary, Kuroko would let him. He would trust Kagami to take care of him.
Once Kuroko made that decision, everything became much, much easier. Just let Kagami take care of it. That took away the burden Kuroko had been carrying, and the relief that flooded his body was as powerful as any drug.
He removed his shirt and endured Kagami's cut-off gasp of horror at the sight. Kuroko knew how bad it looked. He'd been avoiding mirrors and changing in bathroom stalls for a while.
Kagami took pictures of the deep purple blotches that littered Kuroko's abdomen. The finger-shaped bruises on his upper arms, brown and fading yellow. The red welts that striped his back. He asked Kuroko if he was having trouble breathing, if any of his ribs felt cracked or broken. Kuroko shook his head. Kagami asked how long this had been going on. Kuroko said nothing.
It was a complicated question. One month or eight years? Either answer would be accurate.
Through it all, Kagami was careful not to get too close. When he first moved around to look at Kuroko's back (with another awful gasp, quickly buried), Kagami started to reach out. But he stopped himself, his hands hovering in midair. After a moment, he drew them back.
At first, Kuroko was grateful for the distance. He felt like his entire being was a poorly built barrier trembling at the force of everything pushing against him. Like a dam in a swollen river with every timber creaking and every joint springing leaks. If he fell to pieces, he didn't know how he would ever put himself back together.
Once he made the decision to let go and trust Kagami, though, this feeling began to fade. It was replaced with bone-deep weariness and something like muted, detached curiosity. Eventually Kuroko found himself watching Kagami's hovering hands and nervous gestures with a dull eye. He wondered what was wrong with him.
Kagami was one of the most touchy-feely people Kuroko knew, notwithstanding the fact that all high school athletes tended to be a pretty touchy-feely lot, as a rule. They were always giving each other head pats and back rubs and high fives. Once he settled into the team, Kagami had proved to be as physically affectionate as the worst of them. He didn't always know when to stop, either.
Kuroko blamed America for that. He blamed America for a lot of Kagami's social blunders.
But now, Kagami was holding back. As Kuroko's weariness increased, enveloping his mind in a thick fog, he forgot why. A small pit of achiness took up residence in the center of his chest. Was Kagami disgusted to touch him, now? Kuroko knew that he was worthless, that he didn't merit anyone's consideration or concern. But Kagami had never seemed to think so, before.
Kuroko never should have taken Kagami home. He'd known it would be a risk, but he had fully intended to push Kagami out the door before it got late enough to be a problem. He'd gotten caught up in the moment and forgotten to watch the time, and that was his fault. But he hadn't realized the price would be so high.
"Kuroko. Kuroko." Kagami's voice gradually faded into Kuroko's crowded perception. He blinked and looked up.
Kagami's face was creased in concern. "Are you in pain? I have medicine. And..." He glanced at Kuroko's shoulder, where a livid welt had wrapped around and almost struck his collarbone. That had been a bad one. Kuroko had been afraid that he might have to miss school. And basketball practice. That might have killed him.
Kagami's eyes moved back to Kuroko's face. His expression was pleading, which Kuroko didn't understand. "I also have...pain cream. If you'd let me..."
Kuroko nodded.
"Are you sure? Don't force yourself."
Kuroko swallowed. His voice was a breathy croak. "Please."
Please don't treat me differently now. Please don't look at me like I'm broken, even though I am. Please be kind to me, but don't avoid me. Please don't let this change us. Please don't let him tear down what we built.
Kagami nodded instantly and leapt to his feet. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."
Kuroko almost smiled. Where would he go? Now that he was here, he never wanted to leave. Maybe it was an American joke.
Kagami returned in only a few moments. He gave Kuroko a pill and a glass of water, then settled behind him with a tube of pain-relieving gel in his hand. Kuroko took his medicine and hunched over, waiting.
Kagami was silent for a moment, as if he was figuring out where to start. Then he touched Kuroko's shoulder—very lightly—to warn him. And he began.
"Did I tell you that I played some streetball last week? It was after you got on the train. I was gonna take a bus back home, but then I saw a court with a bunch of guys..."
Kagami kept talking in a smooth, continuous chatter designed to calm and distract. Kuroko slowly relaxed, listening to the detailed play-by-play of Kagami's streetball game. The other guys had been in college, athletes from a nearby university, but Kagami had had no trouble keeping up with them. And of course, his team had won. But it was a close fight.
"They were good players," Kagami said, the excitement of the game surging in his voice. "I'll look for that court again if I'm ever in the area..."
His hands on Kuroko's back were warm, and gentle, and very, very kind.
At some point, Kuroko started crying. He kept it quiet and still, a skill he'd learned through pain and error. Only tears, no sniffling or sobbing. No shaking. He didn't want Kagami to know. He didn't want Kagami to stop.
Kagami didn't. He kept going, soothing Kuroko with his hands and his voice. It was so nice. Kuroko couldn't believe how nice it was.
He didn't know why he was crying. Maybe he was just tired and overwhelmed, or maybe all of the barriers had burst before he noticed. The dam had been washed away, rushing downstream, and now Kuroko had no resistance to the feelings roaring through him. They were too many, too strong for him to even understand what they were. They just poured through him, torrential, neverending, and all he could do was let the tears slip down his cheeks one after the other after the other.
After what seemed like a long time, Kagami's voice stopped. His hands ceased their ministrations on Kuroko's back. Kuroko looked up and found Kagami looking at him, his face wrenched up in sorrow. He'd noticed the tears.
Kuroko sat up straight and tried to rub them away with his hands, but it was too late. Kagami knew. Kagami knew everything. There was no point in hiding anymore.
Kagami was holding Kuroko's shirt in his hands. He held it out wordlessly, and Kuroko nodded. Kagami slipped the shirt over his head and helped him pull his arms where they belonged. Kuroko was so tired that he couldn't even dress himself. It was so pathetic that he could have laughed, if he wasn't still crying.
"Kuroko." Kagami's hands were on his shoulders, curled as if to hold him but not gripping tight. "Kuroko, is it okay if I hug you? I really want to hug you."
"Kagami-kun is so kind," Kuroko murmured. "Kind to want to and kind to ask."
"I know...most Japanese people aren't big on hugging. It's too...much. But I'm kind of American, you know, and...if you can put up with it, I really want to give you a hug now."
Kuroko nodded. "Please."
Kagami leaned forward and folded him into his arms. It was like being captured by a very strong, very gentle octopus. Kagami held him carefully, aware of the wounds on his back, but he also held him completely. His head ducked down against Kuroko's shoulder, and his fingers splayed out to cover more area. Kuroko had never been hugged like this, never, not even by his mom when he was very small.
After a moment to acclimate to this new state of things, Kuroko timidly brought his arms forward and wrapped them around Kagami's middle in return. His pressed his damp face to the front of Kagami's shoulder and closed his eyes. He could feel Kagami trembling. They were both shaking now.
Kagami was right. It was too much. But they stayed like that for a long time.