KOZUME KENMA STILL vividly remembers that summer; as clear as the glow of fireflies at night and even as clear as the scorching sun.

He was born in a world where soul mates are determined by God through a red thread on the little finger that will be connected and intertwined with their other souls at the age of 18—and Kuroo is half his soul.

It's hard to believe, but that's exactly what Kenma got, God gave him, half of his soul.

Kozume Kenma still vividly remembers that summer; when the red threads on Kenma's and Kuroo's fingers connected and intertwined; there was a chuckle on the man's lips.

"Who would have thought?"

Kenma realized, that what Kuroo wanted to say was not like that but; why do we have to be connected to each other at the end of a breakup like this?—that was the time when Kuroo had just graduated and Kenma had advanced to the next level, third grade, and their volleyball club had long been lonely since Kuroo was busy with his exams.

There was a time when Kenma just sat in the corner of their club room with a volleyball in his hand. The hustle and bustle created by his classmates could never replace Kuroo's voice, smile, or even laughter. Kenma even with his incompetence couldn't make their volleyball club room more colorful, Lev was even more gloomy than usual—maybe he missed Yaku and maybe Kenma's inability made him like that.

Kozume Kenma still vividly remembers that summer; when Kuroo was about to step into the airport with a dream on each shoulder—he would leave Japan and all that was in it, even having to reluctantly leave the half of his newly connected soul—Kuroo kissed the top of Kenma's head, smiling faintly with warm pats and caresses Kenma will miss the next three years.

"Take care of yourself, kitten. Don't stay up too late, quickly catch up with me after graduation."

"Yes... Kuroo." Kenma's voice had never been so hoarse, but parting and Kuroo was the worst mix for Kenma; she cried the same night that Kuroo walked away.

Sometimes, Kenma wondered. Why did they even become a soul couple? It's not that Kenma hates God's choice, but Kuroo with all the noise Kenma never realized would become a complement to his soul. Kenma didn't really expect it either.

But, Shoyo once said to her with a laugh. "I wasn't surprised, after all, when I found out that Kenma and Kuroo-san were soulmates. Besides, long before your common thread was connected, Kenma and Kuroo-san already seemed to have a complete complement of souls.

"I'm not surprised either, Shoyo and Kage are one soul."

And after Kenma's three years of waiting, at the end of his 21 years, Kuroo will come home, to him. Kenma had been waiting for this moment for a long time. The moment where they would truly live life as a pair of souls, Kenma had been waiting for him, for a long time. He would greet Kuroo with a big smile, get into his arms, and let Kuroo touch him for a long time or even more.

But early that morning, Kenma was curled up on the bed. His body was cold and his chest was burning. He gently pressed the left side of the chest that felt tight and burning from the inside and outside. The man didn't even realize when he had screamed until his throat was almost dry and his voice box nearly burst.

When he got up and limped looking at the mirror, there was a sentence written in a straight line on his left chest; "I love you, Kenma."

_____

Kuroo had never felt this happy, as his feet stepped on the Japanese mainland once again and inhaled the cool air in his pores. The reddish sight that greeted him made the man smile warmly, after this he would take Kenma for a walk to enjoy the autumn, because Kuroo knew the past two weeks the man would only curl up on the bed with his cell phone in hand—Kenma's typical.

Kenma's house in front of him was still the same as before, still leafy and lonely outside, but there was a half of his soul that waited and called.

Kuroo had never felt this shocked, when he rang Kenma's doorbell and the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs sounded loud in his ears, when the main door opened only Kenma immediately melted into his arms. Kuroo's chest felt wet and he knew half his soul was crying, so much that Kenma choked on his own spit.

"Don't go, Kuroo. Don't go."

Kuroo thought, maybe the man was still delirious so he hugged Kenma tighter and showered the top of the man's head with lots of kisses. "I'm home, Kenma. I'm home."

_____

"So, the mark that appears on the left side of the chest is the last sentence of our half soul?" Kuroo knew Kenma would cry again, just like three weeks ago when the man had melted into his arms, the same time the mark appeared on Kenma's chest.

Akaashi nodded seriously, there was a trembling tone in his voice. "And usually, if the mark appears painfully with a suffocating burning feeling, it won't last long."

"When?"

"At most, three years." Kuroo gasped and his eyes turned to Kenma who was smiling.

On the way back to their apartment, Kuroo looked at Kenma once again and he was still the same as an hour ago; smiled blankly. Why did Kenma have to show such an expression?

"Kenma...." Kuroo wanted to ask, about the marks that appeared on his left chest and even about the age that he said would not last long.

"No, Kuroo. Please don't." But, Kenma looked away, staring at the expanse of trees whose leaves were reddish.

"Why?"

"Please, don't say that you love me. I don't want to lose you, Kuroo." And Kenma wept in the silence of the car and the smell of lavender, in the noontime that was as cold as yesterday.

"About that mark, I have one too, Kenma."

"Do not say."

Kuroo gripped the steering wheel, there was a pain when he remembered Akaashi's words about his imminent age. Kenma said he couldn't say that he loved the man. But Kuroo wanted to say it, that he loved Kenma as much as the stars and as wide as the Ocean—because Kuroo never had the chance to say it in their time of separation. If Kuroo said it even once, would there still be a reward?

"I still want to be with you a little longer."

That sentence... that sign... no they're even cursed signs that are still connected to each other.

"I still want to be with you a little longer."

"I love you."

_____

Kozume Kenma had never felt this pain. His chest was burning, just like when the mark had first appeared. But this time, his throat was also on fire. It was hot and he wanted to scream, loudly.

Kuroo wasn't in the apartment. Kenma was alone there, curled up on his bed like a cat. He tried to reduce the pain by pressing his chest and even drinking glasses of mineral water, but it was still the same. Still sore, tight, and burning.

Kenma tried to distract himself from the pain, remembering their time together the past three years; they finally decided to live together—actually, ever since Kuroo returned to Japan and Kenma was crying loudly in his arms, Kuroo thought maybe Kenma was already longing for a rich man, he bought an apartment and brought Kenma to live there. He didn't want Kenma to cry anymore because he already missed him, even though if only he could at that time Kenma told everything, that he was already afraid when he read the sentence on his left chest; I love you.

Kenma had once thought badly of God, feeling that God actually hated them. Hate the words of love between them, why should that sentence be the cursed sign? But Kuroo has it all, has various ways to express his feelings, even though Kenma knows the man is often tortured, he wants to say that he loves Kenma as much as the stars and as wide as the Ocean.

But, Kuroo had everything. He gave a touch and Kenma knew there were words and feelings running through there. He gave her a kiss on the top of her head, gave her warm pats and rumbles on her hair, her fingers touching her skin sometimes feeling warm. Without a word even a sound, there was a feeling flowing there. Kuroo loved her, as much as the stars and even as wide as the Ocean. And Kenma loved that man as much as he was given.

His chest tightened again and Kenma's throat, still burning, now felt as dry as the Sahara desert. Kenma reached for his glass, drank glasses of mineral, but it was still dry. Even after that excruciating feeling, the throat was now choking. There are tears running down the corners of the eyes.

Kenma coughed. At first it was just a normal cough and it got worse when Kenma drank a glass of water, he was now sitting on the side of the bed, hugging himself. Akaashi's words about the age that he soon remembered, played like a broken record in his mind. Kenma smiled, don't tell me it's time.

But Kenma still wakes up in the afternoon, he sleeps for three hours, there are messages and calls continuously from Kuroo who looks worried about his unread messages. Kenma grimaced, he felt guilty for making the man panic.

The pain has also disappeared. Kenma wonders, is God still giving him a chance?

A flower fell on her lap.

_____

The Kozume Kenma of today, is not the Kozume Kenma it was three months ago. But for Kuroo, his Kenma was still the same as before. Still with the same smile, greeting voice, expression, and even a small chuckle. Kenma didn't change, to Kuroo.

Even when his body shrunk because of the decreasing weight. Even when his face grew paler. Even when the man coughed incessantly, he vomited flower petals mixed with blood.

The kenma is still the same.

"Kenma, wanna watch?" Kuroo sat next to him with the television remote in his hand.

Kenma shifted his body closer and rested his head on Kuroo's shoulder. His eyes closed, thinking. "A Quiet Place?"

Kuroo laughed softly at his choice. "Why should it be?"

"Because I'm also living in fear, Kuroo. But the difference is, it's not that I want to avoid mysterious creatures, but the pursuit of God. I'm afraid of death."

Without a word or even a sound, Kuroo carried Kenma in an embrace. "You're not going anywhere, Kenma." The sound of the television filled in, Kenma's film of choice began to play. "I will always protect you, even if I have to defy fate." Kenma chuckled.

"Don't joke, Kuroo."

Now, after three agonizing months, Kenma realized that it was not Kuroo who would leave him, but himself. Why did Kenma have to be so cruel to forbid the man to say the word love to him? Kuroo was probably too thirsty, too eager, and too deep to say, and Kenma selfishly forbade—for three years.

Kenma hugged back, his hands shaking and it felt so weak just to just hug him. Kenma wanted to at least touch the man one more time, longer, before it was all over. "I love you Kuroo."

"Me too, Kenma. You even know that."

"Don't say that. Say that you love me too."

"Why? Why should I?"

"Because maybe, all this time, you were tormented. I've been selfish with you, Kuroo. So slumon, say it. Even though even after that the worst thing happened, at least I didn't have to—" Kuroo shook his head firmly, he hugged Kenma tighter than before, but careful enough to fear that the man might get hurt at any moment.

His kenma was like a fragile pearl, but Kuroo never regretted falling and becoming half his soul.

"Don't say it like that. You can still hold on much longer. If I say so, shouldn't I be the one who seems more selfish here?"

"Sorry." Kenma was upset. "Sorry, Kuro."

Maybe it's too soon or maybe it's true that Kenma can never last much longer. His condition worsened in the fifth month and Kuroo was never far from him. The man seemed to always have plenty of time, sitting by Kenma's bed all the time, telling stories and holding Kenma's hand which was smaller than his own.

And even Kenma's palm was still the same as before, it still felt snug in his grip.

In that fifth month, their volleyball club alumni, their classmates at Nekoma, Shoyo, Kageyama, Bokuto, Akaashi, and even people who had been on the same field as them, visited one after another. Looking at Kenma, seeing half of his soul which is getting more and more gnawed by the disease of fate. That damn disease, after the cursed mark that appeared at their 21st.

Sometimes, Kuroo asked, why did all these things have to happen to them?

Kozume Kenma… even it felt like Kuroo couldn't name a hint of badness about that man. The Kenma is too kind, fragile, and shouldn't be rewarded like this. This was not a fate that Kuroo never once expected.

"Kuroo." Kenma called out to him, the hand that was in his grip clasped back. "Don't cry. You don't deserve to cry, Kuroo."

Kuroo laughed, wiping the flow of water down his cheeks. He kissed Kenma's hand, placed it next to his cheek and looked at the man the same way they looked 18 years ago, the gaze that never changed, still the same. Full of feeling there, full of love, full of warmth.

"I want to talk." Kenma spoke again, he stared at the ceiling of the hospital room. The IV bottle swayed as Kenma coughed, not too badly.

"What, Kenma?"

"You believe, don't you, that this is all part of destiny? Something that God wrote before we were born." Kuroo kissed Kenma's palm once again. "I believe."

"So if I go, you won't be suing God, will you, Kuroo?"

"I won't."

Kenma sighed. There was a smile that was hard to spread. "Sometimes, I wonder, Kuroo. Why did all this have to happen. But when I realized what the reason was, I wasn't mad at God." Kenma coughed, this time quite badly. There were flower petals and frozen blood, it felt like Kuroo hadn't seen the petals in a long time.

"He said, someone who is affected by destiny's disease, is someone who does not deserve to be half a soul. God gave his partner the wrong word, that's why this disease exists."

Kuroo shook his head firmly. God got it wrong? Even Kenma was his half soul which was too kind, to the point that Kuroo felt unworthy. "Kenma, kitten, all you have to know here is that I don't deserve to be your half soul. You're too good, too perfect, and there's no reason to make you unworthy."

"Thank you Kuroo." Kenma smiled. "Want to promise one thing? If God gives you another half soul, please accept him and forget me. At least, don't forget too much, keep a little about me in the smallest space of your heart."

Kenma coughed. More and more flower petals fell. Blood that was frozen even fresh blood flowed down. "Actually, I don't want to go, Kuroo."

Kuroo held Kenma's hand, squeezing it tightly. It was tight, it was so tight—the nurse Kuroo called after Kenma's first cough came through the button beside the bed and hadn't shown the bridge of his nose either—Kuroo wanted to throw a tantrum. "Please, please hold on a little longer."

Kenma smiled. "It's about time, Kuroo."

"Don't smile! Don't smile!" I don't know when and since when, Kuroo cried. He held Kenma's cheek, caressed it, carrying it in his arms. Kuroo's nose was rubbing against Kenma's cheek, his face was wet, but Kenma was still smiling, still able to—albeit trembling—to stroke his hair.

Kenma coughed again, getting worse and worse. But Kuroo won't let go, won't.

Kenma Kuroo's face pressed against his collarbone, "No, Kenma. Don't. Don't say it. Please hold on a little longer."

"I still want to be with you a little longer, Kuroo." Kenma smiled and as if not hearing Kuroo's desperate request, the man spoke in one stuttering breath, in one heartbreaking breath.

Kuroo stared at Kenma in disbelief, yet to say those cursed words—to be precise—don't want to. Still hoping that God would be kind enough to give me one more chance. But the pulse is gone, the pulse is gone, the bad cough will no longer be there. Everything about Kenma was taken forcibly by God just like that.

Kuroo hugged Kenma, who was now colder than anything.

PELAJARAN SASTRA KALI ITU bukan hal wajar bagi Ochako—maksudnya memang benar pelajaran sastra dengan Midnight sensei sudah sedari dulu tak terlihat wajar—tapi kali ini lebih-lebih terlihat berbeda, terlebih lagi ketika Midnight sensei dengan semudah itu mengabaikan Denki yang asik menyeduh kopinya atau Eijirou yang dibiarkan asik sendiri mengadu cupang dengan Hanta.

Ochako menatap semua teman-teman yang ada di kelas Satra kali itu dengan pandangan ngeri yang berlebih-lebih, yakin sekali sepuluh menit kemudian mereka akan berakhir di ruang detensi dengan tugas merangkum buku klasik beribu-ribu halaman—tapi sekali lagi, pelajaran sastra kali itu berbeda; tak ada amukan Midnight sensei ketika melihat murid-muridnya asik sendiri atau lebih memilih mengarungi alam mimpi ketika kisah tentang Pride and Prejudice kembali diceritakan.

Ochako hampir gila memikirkan keanehan ini. Apa lagi kewarasannya semakin tertarik keluar dan gravitasi semakin kuat menarik diri. Ada buku sastranya yang tebal dan tampak nyaman untuk ditiduri dan suara Midnight yang mengalun merdu bagai lagu tidur dalam runtutan kisah Pride and Prejudice.

Tapi daripada itu, dari sekian banyak godaan merebahkan diri, perhatian Ochako lebih tersita pada sampul halaman bukunya yang berwarna hitam-putih—semu sekali. Tingkat kekreativitas seorang Ochako meningkat detik itu juga. Maka terciptalah jas berwarna nyetrik milik William Shakespeare yang tampak cocok dipakai menghadiri pesta karnaval di pekan nanti. Ochako agak tersenyum senang melihat mahakarya tangannya itu, sebelum pada akhirnya tersadar ada lengan yang melingkar di pundak. Midnight sensei berdecak penuh kagum ikut serta mengagumi mahakarya itu, ah bodohnya.

“Apa yang kau lakukan, Ochako?” Terpujilah wahai suara Midnight sensei yang biasanya terdengar merdu, kini bagi Ochako tak lebih bagai suara terompet kematian.

“Urgh, menyalurkan kreativitas?” Ah, mati saja. Seharusnya Ochako ikut tidur seperti teman-teman sekelasnya, daripada dengan begitu sok berpura-pura ikut mendengarkan kisah yang telah diceritakan beribu kali setiap kelas Midnight sensei datang.

“Tahukah kau bahwa ini termasuk ke dalam bentuk penghinaan pada sastrawan tertemuka?” Oh, tolong maafkan jiwa kreativ Ochako.

“Tapi bukannya sampul bukuku jadi lebih indah dipandang?” Ah, mati saja dia, pintar sekali menjawab sedemikian rupa. Ochako sudah tak pasti lagi nilainya akan tetap dituliskan tinta biru.

“Benar-benar kau dasar pujangga muda. Sekarang kau pilih segera angkat kaki dari kelasku ini atau berakhir di ruang detensi detik ini?”

Berakhir di ruang detensi bagi seorang Ochako yang selama ini terkenal akan predikat murid baik-baik adalah bentuk lain dari penghinaan diri. Ochako lebih memilih kehilangan satu poin nilai di kelas Sastranya daripada mencoreng predikat tersebut dengan tak hormat. “Dengan begini aku tak perlu ke ruang detensi, bukan?”

“Pandai sekali kau menghibur diri, dasar pujangga muda. Kata siapa kau takkan berakhir di ruang detensi? Aku hanya bilang kau tak akan berakhir di ruang detensi detik ini, bukannya hari ini. Tolong garis bawahi itu.” Ah, mati saja dia dan terpujilah kebaikan hati seorang Midnight sensei. Ochako sudah tak punya pilihan lain kalau begini.

[][][]

Ketika waktu sore yang merupakan jam pulang tiba, yang Ochako putar di benaknya sedari keluar dari kelas Sejarah adalah ruang detensi, ruang detensi, ruang detensi, tugas merangkum sebagai hukuman, dan kebaikan Midnight sensei jika memang benar masih ada.

Tolong abaikan pula empat orang murid yang duduk di kursi-kursi ruang detensi dalam balutan pandangan heran dan wajah cengo saat menatap Ochako ikut duduk di sana.

“Serius, nih, babu sekolah berakhir di sini?” Yang satu dari mereka sinis berkata, tiga sisanya menahan tawa.

“Kau salah ruangan kali!” Ah, memang benar itu mau Ochako, semoga Midnight sensei tak sengaja tersandung dan berkata seperti itu padanya.

Yang tak sepenuhnya percaya, bersuara, berbisik pelan hingga hampir-hampir terlihat seperti sedang menghembuskan udara. “Kudengar, murid lainnya yang datang ke ruang detensi adalah siswa dari kelas Midnight sensei hari ini seorang lelaki.” Ah, benarkah? Masa bodoh, yang terpenting Midnight sensei tak akan menerornya lagi jika dia tak datang hari ini.

Ochako tersenyum simpul, sesekali ingin mencoba berbohong. “Aku melamun di kelas Midnight sensei.”

“Tak salah juga bila murid seperti kau berakhir di sini. Dia memang kejam, sih.” Ochako tertawa dan sebelum percakapan semakin melebar, petugas ruang detensi yang kali ini adalah jadwal piket Aizawa sensei sudah masuk membuka pintu.

Sama seperti sebelumnya, lagi-lagi Ochako diberi pertanyaan serupa. “Kenapa kau bisa ada di sini? Yang kutahu, seharusnya siswa laki-laki dari kelas Midnight sensei hari ini yang datang ke ruang detensi, tak ada surat detensi untukmu.”

“Dan Midnight sensei juga tak bertugas hari ini,” lanjut Aizawa sensei.

Ochako berpikir sebentar. “Lebih baik kutunggu saja, aku tak ingin diteror ke ruang detensi lagi.” Aizawa sensei tak lagi mempedulikan, fokusnya kini pada tiga langganan ruang detensi.

“Seminggu ke depan, toilet lantai dua, tiga, serta lima adalah kewajiban kalian. Seminggu ke depan pula tak ingin lagi kudengar keluhan toilet yang masih berbau atau kalian yang semakin bertingkah, atau hukuman bertambah 10x lipat.” Uh, kejam juga.

Dengan tak bersemangat mereka mengangguk lalu keluar pergi, disusul dorongan keras pada pintu ruang detensi. “Seperti katamu tadi, silakan kau tunggu Midnight sensei di sini, aku ada tugas di belakang.”

Belum lagi Aizawa sensei pergi, baru saja tubuhnya bangkit berdiri. Midnight sensei datang dengan sekotak satu lusin donat warna-warni. “Ya ampun, aku terlambat. Dan, oh, baru hanya kau yang ada di sini, 'Chako?”

“Seperti yang kau lihat, sensei.”

“Uh, seharusnya aku tak mengharapkannya datang dan tak kusangka kau akan menanggapi serius ucapanku tadi siang.” Midnight sensei duduk di depan Ochako, membuka kota donatnya dan menyodorkan satu donat berlapis krim coklat yang masih berbungkus plastik pada Ochako. “Kau juga mau, Aizawa?”

Aizawa sensei menggeleng menolak. “Pantas saja tak ada surat detensi untuknya. Sungguh Midnight, kurang-kurangi sifat jahilmu itu.” Lalu berbalik pergi dengan tawa Midnight sensei yang mengisi ruang.

“Karena nampaknya cuma kau yang datang, rangkum saja buku yang pernah kita bahas minggu kemarin.” Midnight sensei menekan remote televisi yang tersedia di ruang detensi, membuka channel yang sore itu tengah memutar tayangan film, Midnight sensei duduk relaks menikmati donat dan tayangan di depannya.

Ochako juga baru akan ikut menikmati hukuman tugasnya, kalau saja tak ada satu ketukan dan gedebuk keras sesudahnya. “Sungguh sensei, aku benar-benar minta maaf karena datang terlambat.”

“Alasan apa lagi yang akan kau gunakan, Katsuki? Tak sengaja tertidur di toilet saat meminta izin di waktu kelasku?” sindir Midnight sensei, Ochako tak pernah tahu Midnight sensei bisa menyindir seperti itu.

“Itu salah satu alasannya.” Katsuki nyengir.

“Karena aku sedang malas memikirkan hukuman seperti apa yang cocok untukmu. Buat saja rangkuman buku yang pernah kita bahas minggu kemarin, sama seperti yang Ochako lakukan—dan apa-apaan wajahmu itu, jangan bilang kau tak memperhatikan pelajaranku minggu kemarin!” Katsuki lagi-lagi menyengir, “Aku memperhatikan, kok, sensei.”

Ochako meringis. Uh, demi apa pun, kenapa harus Katsuki? Kenapa dari sekian banyak murid dan yang sedari tadi disebut sebagai langganan ruang detensi harus Katsuki? Tetangga Ochako yang cita-citanya membuka bisnis perkakas di pusat kota?

[][][]

“Hei, bangun!” Demi apa pun, dua tayangan film telah Ochako habiskan, bahkan satu tayangan berita mengenai kasus bentrok politisi juga ikut Ochako lahap dan Katsuki, pemuda itu malah begitu santai memilih tidur di atas kertas rangkumannya.

“Uh....” Katsuki menguap, mengosok-gosok matanya dan menatap Ochako dengan mata menyipit. “Sudah selesai?”

“Hei, harusnya aku yang berkata seperti itu!” Ochako meledak, tertunduk kesal.

“Apa maksudmu? Aku sudah selesai sedari tadi. Lihat ini.” Katsuki menunjuk kertas rangkumannya yang sedari tadi Ochako anggap kosong, dia membalikkan halaman dan terlihat barisan tulisannya yang rapi.

“Kau gila, ya? Kenapa tidak sedari tadi diberi tahu dan apa-apaan itu menulis di halaman selanjutnya! Sekarang sudah jam 8.50 malam, Midnight sensei pasti akan mengamuk karena sudah terlalu lama menunggu di parkiran.”

“Aku melihatmu begitu menikmati tontonan, jadi kupikir kau tak ingin diganggu,” kata Katsuki. Ochako melotot kesal, apa-apaan dia itu. “Aku begitu karena menunggumu!”

“Sudahlah, ini sudah malam. Kau tak ingin dikuncikan di sini, bukan?” Katsuki menguap sekali lagi, bangkit lalu meregangkan badan, kemudian menyambar tas sekolah beserta tugas detensi miliknya dan milik Ochako sekaligus.

Sebenarnya, Ochako benci ini. Dia sama sekali tak terlalu dekat dengan Katsuki, walau notabene-nya dia adalah tetangga Ochako sendiri. Mungkin mereka pernah dekat, dulu, saat usia mereka sekitaran tujuh tahun. Tapi semakin mereka dewasa, jarak itu semakin jelas tercipta. Entah ada salah apa Ochako pada Katsuki, lelaki itu tak lagi meluangkan waktunya untuk mengajak Ochako ikut serta bermain ke lapangan depan perumahan. Ada jarak dan Ochako tak pernah terbiasa pada jarak itu.

“Kau kenapa melamun? Cepat kunci pintunya.” Katsuki berujar galak, tapi ada satu yang tak berubah dari kedekatan mereka dulu.

“Ya, ya, kau benar-benar cerewet sekali.” Ochako memutar mata, memutar kunci dan menggenggamnya erat. Apa ini, bukannya sejak mereka berumur dua belas tahun Ochako dan Katsuki tak lagi saling melempar ejekan seperti ini.

Katsuki diam memperhatikan, tak membalas atau bahkan berdecak tak suka. Mereka berjalan beriringan di bawah lampu lorong sekolah dan terang bulan. Ochako berteriak ketika parkiran sekolah mulai terlihat, ada mobil Midnight sensei di sana, dan senseinya itu sedang asik menelepon. “Kalian lama sekali,” keluh Midnight sensei, masih dengan ponsel yang menghadap telinga.

“Aku menunggu Katsuki menyelesaikan rangkumannya,” kata Ochako. Katsuki mengangguk membenarkan.

“Ya, sudah. Cepat pulang, kalian terlalu banyak menghabiskan waktu.” Midnight sensei membuat postur mengusir, karena lagi-lagi ponselnya tiba-tiba memperdengarkan suara nan keras.

“Oh, aku hampir lupa. Kalian tahu, kan, setiap enam bulan sekali ada festival sekolah dan malamnya akan ada pesta dansa? Nah, kebetulan bulan ini aku menjadi panitia acara dan tentu kalian tahu maksudku...”

“TIDAK MAU! Astaga, sensei, berhenti menyalahgunakan jabatan.” Ochako berucap agak histeris, kepalanya terasa berdenyut dan hampir pecah.

Sudah Ochako bilang, dia dan Katsuki sudah lama tak akrab.

“Coba kau jelaskan bagian mana yang membuatku terlihat jelas menyalahgunakan jabatan, wahai pujangga muda? Aku memberi keringanan detensi dan bahkan menawarkan makanan kecil agar kalian tak bosan mengerjakan hukuman. Adakah pernah kalian temukan guru sepertiku?” Uh, kalau dipikir-pikir benar juga. Ochako tutup mulut di tempat.

“Kalau aku, mungkin terserah sensei. Asalkan poin di kelas Sastraku bertambah dua.” Katsuki menguap, wow dia pintar juga memberi penawaran.

“Tidak. Aku hanya akan memberi kalian masing-masing satu poin tambahan jika ingin membantu.”

“Baiklah.” Ochako dan Katsuki berujar bersamaan. Penambahan satu poin tak buruk juga.

“Nah, sekarang cepat pulang.” Midnight sensei masuk ke dalam mobilnya, meninggalkan aroma mawar yang menguar tatkala pintu mobilnya terbuka.

“Baik, kita pulang.” Sebelum Ochako sempat bereaksi bagaimana tentang aroma mawar barusan, ada besi yang terkait di bawah dagunya dan kepala yang memberat. Katsuki baru saja memasangkan helm pada Ochako.

“Hei, apa-apaan?!” Ochako memprotes, tidak terima.

“Aku akan mengantarmu pulang. Ini sudah malam dan ibuku baru saja mengabari bahwa dia memasak SOP buntut hari ini. Aku lapar dan cepatlah naik.” Katsuki memanaskan mesin motornya. Asap mengepul-ngepul keluar dari knalpot. “Jika kau tetap ingin pulang sendiri, biarkan kubertanya kau akan pulang menaiki apa?”

“Uh... taksi?”

“Lihat, bahkan kau ragu. Cepatlah naik, Ochako.” Jika Ochako mengabaikan sapaan Katsuki barusan, rasanya dia lupa kapan terakhir kali Katsuki memanggil namanya.

“Astaga, aku tidak mau—” Ochako bersikeras, tapi gemuruh perutnya berkata lain. Ochako bahkan tahu Katsuki menahan tawa di balik helm full-facenya.

Masa bodoh, pikir Ochako.

“Bahkan, perutmu sudah menangis. Aku yakin ibu tidak akan marah kalau kau mampir sebentar ke rumah untuk memakan sop buntut buatannya. Kita tetangga dan sudah sedari dulu dekat.” Mendengar kata kita dan dekat, rasanya aneh bagi Ochako sendiri. Ah, Katsuki....

Sebelum gemuruh perutnya semakin parah Ochako meloncat naik dan mengeratkan pegangan pad ujung jaket Katsuki. Ochako bahkan mendengar pemuda itu terbatuk kecil, mungkin merasa menang karena—uh, sialnya, Ochako tak bisa terus-terusan mengelak.

“Jadi, Katsuki, apa kau masih bercita-cita membuka toko perkakas di pusat kota?”

Katsuki tertawa tatkala mereka mulai melaju di jalanan pusat kota yang sedang ramai-ramainya. “Masih, dan detik ini mimpiku juga ikut bertambah.”

“Apa itu?” Demi apa pun, sebenarnya Ochako tak ingin bertanya seperti itu. Biarlah itu menjadi rahasia Katsuki seorang, perihal cita-cita dan toko perkakasnya. Masa bodoh, pikir Ochako seperti itu.

“Nanti juga kau akan tahu.”

Ochako dan ruang detensi bukan dua hal yang bisa disatukan dengan mudah, terlebih lagi jika ada murid badung seperti Katsuki di sana. Tapi, perihal Ochako dan Katsuki, mungkin berbeda. Mungkin sama. Mungkin dua hal yang bisa disatukan.

Langa sama sekali tidak paham, mengapa orang-orang—termasuk Joe sendiri begitu sangat-sangat terobsesi menemukan soulmate mereka—belahan jiwa mereka yang mungkin saja berada di belahan dunia lainnya pula. Kata Joe sendiri, soulmate adalah kunci penting rahasia dunia. Mengapa dunia yang mereka tinggali hanya berupa dwi warna nan semu—tapi bagi Langa sendiri, dunianya tidak semu, ada berjuta warna yang meledak di mata, dan entah mengapa dan bagaimana warna merahlah yang satu-satunya begitu banyak menyita perhatiannya. Kata Cherry saat pertama kali Langa bercerita soal 'kelainannya'—karena teman-temannya lebih banyak bercerita perihal dunia mereka yang terasa memuakkan dan begitu semu, kecuali Cherry yang baru-baru ini berhasil menemukan soulmatenya—Langa sudah bertemu sang soulmate dan menciptakan sentuh padanya. “Coba ingat-ingat lagi, mungkin kalian pernah bertemu di suatu tempat—dan katamu, warna yang paling menyita perhatian adalah merah, kan? Mungkin soulmatemu identik dengan itu.“ Langa biasanya cuma bisa tertunduk lesu, dia sudah berulang kali mencoba mengingat atau ketika tanpa sengaja bertemu dengan seseorang berambut merah, berpakaian serba merah—intinya identik dengan warna yang begitu menyita perhatiannya—Langa tak urung bertanya atau tanpa sengaja menciptakan satu sentuh, karena kata Joe jika tanpa sengaja soulmate mereka berpisah tanpa sempat diberi tanda, jika mereka kembali bertemu dan kembali mencipta sentuh, ada ledakan yang sama seperti pertama kali bertemu dan bersentuh. Dan hasilnya, selalu nihil. “Sudah kucoba mengingat atau mencipta sentuh pada beberapa orang yang kutemui, tapi tetap tak ada jejak atau barang kali pentunjuk. Apa soulmateku sudah dipanggil Tuhan?“ “Pesimis sekali.“ Cherry mencibir. “Lagi pula, jika soulmatemu sudah pergi biasanya duniamu akan kembali semu dan jika Tuhan berbaik hati, mungkin akan ada soulmate pengganti.“ “Jadi, soulmateku masih hidup?“ “Sepertinya. Berusahalah lebih keras lagi.“ *** Benar kata Cherry—soal pembicaraan mereka kemarin sore—ada anak baru di kelas mereka hari ini, laki-laki lebih tepatnya dengan nama Kyan Reki. Pertama kali menjejaki kaki di kelas dengan gayanya yang enerjik, dia sudah berhasil menyita perhatian seluruh penghuni kelas, Langa salah satunya—padahal biasanya pemuda itu paling alergi melihat sosok yang begitu enerjik—Joe dan Cherry mungkin pengecualian. Cherry yang duduk di sebelah Langa, juga sempat tercuri perhatiannya dan Cherry pula yang pertama kali sadar pada suatu subjek yang mungkin akan membawa perubahan besar bagi Langa. “Langa, rambutnya merah,“ bisik Cherry, Langa cengo sesaat. “Terus?“ “Mungkin Reki soulmatemu.“ “Aku ragu.“ *** Maunya, Langa menjadikan pembicaraan mereka tadi pagi tak pernah terjadi atau pun mampir ke telinga, tapi Langa juga penasaran setengah mati akan objek bernama Kyan Reki ini. Apa mungkin Reki ini soulmatenya? Seseorang yang selama ini Langa cari karena penasaran mengapa sedari umur enam tahun, dunianya tak lagi semu? Tapi yang namanya orang yang sedari pertama kali menjejaki kaki telah menyita perhatian, ketika waktu istirahat tiba meja Reki yang entah kenapa bisa tepat berada di belakang Langa jadi penuh kerumunan teman-teman sekelasnya yang penasaran lebih cocok akan sosoknya—Langa sendiri pun juga cukup penasaran, tapi keinginannya mungkin bisa ditahan untuk sekarang ini. “Kau penasaran, kan?“ Cherry ada di sebelah Langa, menaik-turunkan alis menggodanya. Langa cuma bisa menaruh pipinya ke atas meja dengan perasaan sebal. “Sedikit.“ “Kalau Reki memang benar soulmatemu, jangan lupa traktir kami!“ Joe yang entah kapan datangnya, duduk dengan kursi yang menghadap langsung ke arah Langa. Cherry mencibir, “Apa coba hubungannya?“ Joe menyentil jidat Cherry keras, tersenyum miring. “Syukuran.“ Langa mau tak mau tertawa, menghormati candaan Joe yang gagal total. “Iya, pasti.“ *** Sudah seminggu dan keberuntungan tampaknya tak pernah sekali pun berpihak pada Langa. Sulit sekali mencari waktu luang agar mereka bisa bertatap muka berdua. Jadi ketika waktu piket tiba—beruntung ketika