An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Whatever was left, the war polluted. Those staying behind withered away in cramped factories or dreary queues for rationed goods. The earth stank of grime and despair. The air was thick with smoke and a palpable fear of loss. Loss of families, of intimates, of hopes, of dreams.
Kuroo was on the verge of choking on that tainted air when Yaku crashed into his life with the force of an asteroid captured by a planet’ gravity.
After 10 years, Kuroos waits for Yaku at the edge of the universe.
This was written for KuroYaku weekend 2018. I liked the theme a bit too much.















