[ It's been a little over two weeks. Kenma's leg still hurts and he still has the wrist splint, which means no volleyball, but he can move around and he's almost so far behind in his makeup work that he seriously considers the pros and cons of simply dropping out. But then that's a little melodramatic. He sighs, reaching up with his uninjured hand to push his hair out of his face for once. It didn't grow so very much in two weeks but it's been on the long side already. His blond is almost all gone, the black more threaded with gold than patchy and pudding like as it is associated with. As far as he knows from seeing Kuroo every night, he's okay. Akaashi or Sawamura or someone took care of the broken light pieces stuck in his paw bed, and the form he takes has only become more and more comfortable. Or, that's as much as Kenma can tell; he thinks he's right though.
Ever since that night he feels like he can sense Kuroo more than before and Akaashi confirmed with him that it probably had to do with the blood Kuroo licked off of him when he was hurt.
It's what he's thinking about now as he winces and tugs his bookbag onto one shoulder, heads to the door and toes his shoes on carefully. Kuroo will probably come pick him up right?
He does what he's gotten in the habit of doing: puts out feelers of a sort to sense if he's there and sure enough he can feel him getting closer. It's odd but not wholly unfamiliar. If he thinks of it a certain way, Kenma might argue they were already like this. ]
I'm off.
[ He says quietly but no one answers and he locks the door behind him just as mildly; it's fine.
One of the things that bothers him now isn't his bond with Kuroo which he doesn't feel is as new as it might be; rather, it's his own magic. He's barely a step outside and his vision swims. Overloaded. He stumbles, breaths huffing out of him. For whatever reason, it makes him more sensitive to everything -- sight, sound, smell, touch. This is why you locked it up, he tells himself and then also tells himself to shut up because it's not helpful. He doesn't know how to re-bottle it, so to speak, lock it up new or trick it into silence; he can't turn it off. It makes him even more tired than he was before.
Sighing, he brushes his hair back again. It's down to his shoulders these days. ]
Where are you?
[It's more a muttering to himself than anything because he can feel Kuroo even if he can't see him. Squinting, he glances back and forth.]
[ Kuroo is a couple houses away, but he crows it like a rowdy teenager, no longer bothering to ask questions like how could I have heard Kenma's quiet mumbling from this far away when the answer is and always will be: magic shenanigans. There's a lot of new unexplained qualities to their relationship, but Kuroo has always been curious about the magical world and so they really don't bother him. It helps him keep an eye on Kenma, too, so it's not that bad.
He fidgets as he approaches, something he's never really done before, but now he has a thin crescent scar down the palm of his hand that seems to reign him back in when he gets too caught up in thinking this is cool or fun or whatever.
That night was scary and difficult, but things have been creeping toward getting better every time, and now Kenma is on his feet again and looking much improved than he had two weeks ago even if he's not entirely fixed yet. This is good, and now maybe Kuroo can assess the result of his stupidity and apologize to Kenma's face instead of whispering it across whatever magic is bonding them together in the tentative moments when Kenma is almost asleep, and Kuroo is curled up half on his chest, massive paw flung across his chest to keep his promise and keep him safe.
Kuroo's family haven't clocked on, or if they have they haven't said anything. Kuroo thought his mother might have seen the seal burned into his stomach when Kuroo got careless with not wearing a shirt when he came downstairs, but she just smiled at him and asked what he wanted for breakfast. The seal is getting lighter and lighter every day now, Kuroo wondered at first if that meant it was getting weaker.. but when he starts to get sleepy in his own bed he can feel claws creeping around the wall he's built between himself and the monster living inside him. That's when he lets the change happen, and clambers out of the window, down onto the pantry roof, and down the street to do the same in reverse and let himself into Kenma's room.
He comes to Kenma's side, and smiles just like he always does, like there's nothing wrong and this is just another normal day. ]
You're out of bed! I honestly thought I was going to have to come inside and drag you out by your ankles. Full of energy today, then?
[Kenma refrains from saying 'better not' in reply because socially avoidant doesn't equate to socially stupid; he watches people and most of all Kuroo, and knows how that kind of a comment would sting. Instead he squints up at him through a rather mild expression and says, ] I want to go back to bed.
[ It's true even if it's totally out of the question. Unplanned but on point, he yawns and it's the kind of yawn that makes you wince because you can hear something crack. After the night of Kuroo's change, he's had quite enough of bones cracking or making any sound at all. It makes him queasy. Making a mumbled 'ugh' more or less, he raises his hands to his face to rub the heels of his palms into his closed eyes.
Calm down, he tells himself, and unconsciously his magic reaches out not to do anything but towards Kuroo and, when it comes up against the magic in him or the magic of what's been done to him, it settles a little. Something about Kuroo's presence is stabilizing for him, and while that's been true forever it's different feeling now in a way he can't articulate. And he's never been as grateful as he was that night for his magic, for being able to take away some of Kuroo's pain even if he couldn't actually 'save' him. Akaashi had told him not to worry -- that even trained magic users probably couldn't have contended with it at that stage, and while Kenma knows enough about Akaashi to know he isn't a person of lip-service, well, it still didn't make him feel better.
Hands still over his face, he sighs, then eyeballs Kuroo through his splayed fingers. ]
Are...are you feeling okay?
[ It bears asking, honestly, given everything that's happened and how they have so much they have to deal with still, but his voice is normal -- soft toned and mild. Calm. ]
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Ever since that night he feels like he can sense Kuroo more than before and Akaashi confirmed with him that it probably had to do with the blood Kuroo licked off of him when he was hurt.
It's what he's thinking about now as he winces and tugs his bookbag onto one shoulder, heads to the door and toes his shoes on carefully. Kuroo will probably come pick him up right?
He does what he's gotten in the habit of doing: puts out feelers of a sort to sense if he's there and sure enough he can feel him getting closer. It's odd but not wholly unfamiliar. If he thinks of it a certain way, Kenma might argue they were already like this. ]
I'm off.
[ He says quietly but no one answers and he locks the door behind him just as mildly; it's fine.
One of the things that bothers him now isn't his bond with Kuroo which he doesn't feel is as new as it might be; rather, it's his own magic. He's barely a step outside and his vision swims. Overloaded. He stumbles, breaths huffing out of him. For whatever reason, it makes him more sensitive to everything -- sight, sound, smell, touch. This is why you locked it up, he tells himself and then also tells himself to shut up because it's not helpful. He doesn't know how to re-bottle it, so to speak, lock it up new or trick it into silence; he can't turn it off. It makes him even more tired than he was before.
Sighing, he brushes his hair back again. It's down to his shoulders these days. ]
Where are you?
[It's more a muttering to himself than anything because he can feel Kuroo even if he can't see him. Squinting, he glances back and forth.]
no subject
[ Kuroo is a couple houses away, but he crows it like a rowdy teenager, no longer bothering to ask questions like how could I have heard Kenma's quiet mumbling from this far away when the answer is and always will be: magic shenanigans. There's a lot of new unexplained qualities to their relationship, but Kuroo has always been curious about the magical world and so they really don't bother him. It helps him keep an eye on Kenma, too, so it's not that bad.
He fidgets as he approaches, something he's never really done before, but now he has a thin crescent scar down the palm of his hand that seems to reign him back in when he gets too caught up in thinking this is cool or fun or whatever.
That night was scary and difficult, but things have been creeping toward getting better every time, and now Kenma is on his feet again and looking much improved than he had two weeks ago even if he's not entirely fixed yet. This is good, and now maybe Kuroo can assess the result of his stupidity and apologize to Kenma's face instead of whispering it across whatever magic is bonding them together in the tentative moments when Kenma is almost asleep, and Kuroo is curled up half on his chest, massive paw flung across his chest to keep his promise and keep him safe.
Kuroo's family haven't clocked on, or if they have they haven't said anything. Kuroo thought his mother might have seen the seal burned into his stomach when Kuroo got careless with not wearing a shirt when he came downstairs, but she just smiled at him and asked what he wanted for breakfast. The seal is getting lighter and lighter every day now, Kuroo wondered at first if that meant it was getting weaker.. but when he starts to get sleepy in his own bed he can feel claws creeping around the wall he's built between himself and the monster living inside him. That's when he lets the change happen, and clambers out of the window, down onto the pantry roof, and down the street to do the same in reverse and let himself into Kenma's room.
He comes to Kenma's side, and smiles just like he always does, like there's nothing wrong and this is just another normal day. ]
You're out of bed! I honestly thought I was going to have to come inside and drag you out by your ankles. Full of energy today, then?
no subject
[ It's true even if it's totally out of the question. Unplanned but on point, he yawns and it's the kind of yawn that makes you wince because you can hear something crack. After the night of Kuroo's change, he's had quite enough of bones cracking or making any sound at all. It makes him queasy. Making a mumbled 'ugh' more or less, he raises his hands to his face to rub the heels of his palms into his closed eyes.
Calm down, he tells himself, and unconsciously his magic reaches out not to do anything but towards Kuroo and, when it comes up against the magic in him or the magic of what's been done to him, it settles a little. Something about Kuroo's presence is stabilizing for him, and while that's been true forever it's different feeling now in a way he can't articulate. And he's never been as grateful as he was that night for his magic, for being able to take away some of Kuroo's pain even if he couldn't actually 'save' him. Akaashi had told him not to worry -- that even trained magic users probably couldn't have contended with it at that stage, and while Kenma knows enough about Akaashi to know he isn't a person of lip-service, well, it still didn't make him feel better.
Hands still over his face, he sighs, then eyeballs Kuroo through his splayed fingers. ]
Are...are you feeling okay?
[ It bears asking, honestly, given everything that's happened and how they have so much they have to deal with still, but his voice is normal -- soft toned and mild. Calm. ]