#former lovers

“Trust me, I know. I don’t know why I agreed, he just seemed so genuine. He just kept talking, and half of it didn’t even make sense. Plus, it’s been so long, we’re both adults. I don’t think anything will happen.”

“I mean sure, maybe he doesn’t have any other intentions. But I don’t want to see you get hurt, babe.” Her expression softened as she reached and placed her hand on your wrist.

“You can kill me if I end up in his bed or something.”

“Can you say that again so I can record it?” Yui smiled for the first time since Kuroo was brought up.

“I love you, you know that?” You smiled back at her before polishing off the remainder of your coffee and slipping away to put the mug in the sink. Yui blew you a kiss as you made your way to your room.

Unfortunately for his grand reconciliation plans, Kuroo's ass was still blocked. With slight hesitation, you grabbed your phone off your nightstand and swiped to the settings app, landing on the “blocked contacts” section. The only contact in there read: “tetsu ♥”. The same as the day you blocked him. You sighed as you clicked the unblock contact button and swiped to text him.

you sup

Almost immediately, three dots popped up ready for a response.

tetsu ♥ YO damn, finally unblocked lmao you not for long tetsu ♥ rude lol

You left him on read, just to see where he would steer the conversation without prodding it along.

tetsu ♥ anyways, could I take you for coffee or something? you free this morning? idk how long ill be in town for, so we should meet up today i think. you i already had coffee tetsu ♥ ugh, kay. lunch? you alright, sounds good tetsu ♥ you still at your old place? you yup tetsu ♥ bet, ill pick u up at noon

Your eyes linger on the messages, darting between words, before you click into his contact and change his name to simply “kuroo.” You sit on the edge of your bed, still blinking at the phone in hand, and you click to turn it off.

The alarm clock on the side of your bed ticks onward, signaling every second you get closer to having a conversation with Kuroo. The clock blinked back in bright red numbers: 10:00. Shit. Your hair was still caught up in the tangles from the night before, mascara clumped and clinging to your lids like gum on a shoe. Your head still pounded from the alcohol’s residuals, the coffee hardly helping.

Your feet dragged you to the bathroom, catching a final glimpse of your disheveled appearance, before stepping into the shower. The hot water hits your skin with a comfortable sting. You worked the soap along your body, removing the traces of last night from it. Creeping in like an unwanted pest, your mind shifts to your lunch plans. Is this really just lunch? Other thoughts follow in line. Kuroo on the TV. Why wasn’t he on the court playing? Kuroo at the bar. He’s thought about me?

You shake your head, hoping to reset your brain and turn it away from Kuroo. It doesn’t work, if anything, it only makes you more aware of him.

The way he looked last night slips back into your mind without the ability to stop it. His thick arms work their hold around your brain. The same arms that never reached for his phone when you spent weeks trying to connect. Your mind moves from his arms to the small amount of skin to skin at the bar. The subtle grabbing of your wrist, wishing he would have grabbed more. The thought made your stomach twist. Your cheeks flushed as you finished in the shower, stepping out and roughly drying your hair, trying to scrub the fighting thoughts out of your head. He was sweet and uncharacteristically shy the night before. And so much hotter. It would've been easier if he'd shown up looking like the asshole you'd spent years imagining. You’re supposed to hate him.

Coffee. You need more coffee. Maybe still hungover? You’re sick. Definitely sick.

You sigh as you slip on a comfortable outfit, not quite ready yet to face Kuroo and make your way to the kitchen. Your hands go through the motions anyway, pulling the grounds out, grabbing a mug, and brewing a fresh cup.

You bring it to your room, setting it besides the ensemble of makeup and brushes still scattered from yesterday. Grabbing the concealer, applying foundation, putting on a fresh coat of mascara. Just like the coffee, you take it step by step. If you just keep moving, maybe your mind won’t wander back.

You finish off your face and put on a more appropriate outfit for going out. Jeans and your favorite tee-shirt. You smiled back at yourself in the mirror, feeling pretty accomplished despite the state you came home in. You reach to check the time, but as if on cue your phone buzzed.

kuroo omw!! :) you okay, see you soon.

The silence that suddenly made itself known in the room was broken by the tapping of your foot against the floor. You focus on the consistent rhythm, attempting to keep your heart at a normal pace.

Ugh, couldn’t he run a little late. Just once.

Within a couple of minutes, three quick knocks sound throughout the apartment.

Your eyes dart to the mirror, getting in one more quick glance. Good enough. You drag yourself to the front entrance, drawing a quick breath in as you stand at the door. Your hand lingers on the knob before finally twisting it open.

“Hey!” Kuroo immediately cuts through any awkward silence before it has a chance to settle. “Ready to go?”

He flashed you a grin.

Your eyes meet his smile and they begin to trace the man at your door. He wore a fitted tee shirt under a red jacket and light-wash jeans. The outfit was simple, yet somehow it only highlighted everything unfair about him.

As if sensing your stare, Kuroo meets your eyes and a subtle smile pulls at his lips.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” You reply with a sigh, and a slight flush starts to bloom across your cheeks.

“Took you long enough to respond,” his stupid grin remains firm on his face. “Let’s go!” He turns to walk away, trusting you’ll follow behind.

—

Kuroo pauses right outside of your apartment.

“So, I thought we could go to the ramen shop, the one right by your place.” He turns to study your face. “You still like it there?”

Like it there? You recall going there and sobbing into a bowl of ramen right after the breakup. Or heading there when you got your first big job after polishing off a bottle of sake with Michimiya. It was like your second home, packed with memories you don’t really know how to categorize.

“Oh sure,” you let out. “I still go there, actually.” The sting of the former memory still lingering in the back of your mind.

“Okay, perfect. Let’s go there.”

The walk is short, only a block. Your footsteps fall into sync with his without either of you trying.

“So,” Kuroo cuts the silence. “What’s new?”

You let out a small laugh at how painfully normal the question is. His cheeks tint pink for a second, like he’s aware of it too.

“Just work. The usual bullshit. You know how it is.”

“Actually, I do know how it is,” he huffs out a small laugh. “I got an office job.” His reply makes you glance at him again. So, he really didn’t go pro?

“Really? What’re you up to in an office?” Your words slip out with a hint of shock behind them.

“It’s still volleyball, don’t worry.” He shrugs and chuckles with his answer. “I’m in the sports promotion division of the Japan Volleyball Association.”

“Of course you are.” You smile as you think about how he brought you into volleyball fandom with his own infectious love of it.

Neither of you speak much more. Despite the quiet, the atmosphere feels oddly comfortable and by the time you realize it, Kuroo is pulling a door open. His hands gesture you to walk in first, and he lets the door close behind you two.

Your legs take you over to your usual spot, right by the window. The shop owner calls your name as you pass, and you answer with a quick wave and a smile, the routine you’ve established over countless visits. Kuroo slides the chair out for you to sit and takes his own seat across from you.

“Wow, look at you, Miss Famous.” Kuroo’s grin pulls at his lips. For the first time in a while, you take him in properly. The midday light spills through the window, casting his eyes in a warm glow. They turned amber at the edges, softening the color. Your stomach stirred with uninvited butterflies at the sight of them.

“Oh, please,” you snort. “Says you. I saw you on the big screen the other day after the MSBY game.” His lips were still harboring the grin but slowly shifted into a larger smile.

“Oh ho ho, you’ve been stalking me?” He teases with a slight eyebrow wiggle. Your eyes roll back in your head, but your smirk gives you away.

“No, I’ve just been watching the local games. Not everything is about you.” You come off playfully stern, but the familiarity of the conversation chips away at the wall you’ve been struggling to keep up since you saw him.

“I’m surprised you kept up with volleyball all this time.” His eyes crinkle at each corner as he looks at you.

“Well, yeah. It’s a fun sport.” You say, offering a small smile.

The owner shuffles over, cutting into the banter. You both order, the moment settling into a brief pause of motion before it slides easily back to the two of you again.

“So, what’s got you leaving town again?” You ask.

“Oh, yeah.” Kuroo leans slightly back in his seat. “I’m travelling around for a promotion idea I want to do with the JVA. A big game with all the best players. I want to invite them personally.” He gestures vaguely as he speaks, like he can already see the game playing out somewhere beyond the window.

“Ah,” you say softly. “I see. Is this promotion why you’re here?” Your hands reach for the hem of your shirt, tugging and twisting at the fabric.

“Actually, no. I still live in Tokyo.” He looks back at you, eyebrows almost imperceptibly raised. So slight, you would’ve missed it if you weren’t looking so intently. His eyes flicker down to your fidgeting hands.

“Oh.”

The accumulation of information came suddenly crashing down, collapsing the mental image of Kuroo that’s built up throughout the years. You assumed he’d move on to greener pastures. Maybe gone pro, moved to a new country for volleyball. Instead, he’s been here in the same city. You could’ve crossed paths a hundred times, yet somehow you didn’t.

Quick as ever, the owner slips in and sets the two bowls in front of you. You both give your thanks to him before he disappears once more. The steam and rich scents of garlic and veggies from the ramen swirl up into the air. For a moment, it gives you something else to focus on.

You almost don’t notice it, but Kuroo looks directly at you as he says, “Looks as good as I remember.”

You both reach for the cup of chopsticks at the same time; his hand barely grazes your skin. The contact lasts for less than a second, but the warmth sticks to your hand. It’s like your body is subconsciously trying to commit the feeling to memory. Kuroo immediately pulls back and waits for you to get what you need, color coming to the surface of his cheeks.

The two of you eat in silence for a bit, just enjoying the shared meal. You stare into the broth as you eat. The familiar flavor drudges up the past, the way certain senses tend to elicit emotion before your brain can catch up. The night you came here, right after the call. The memory clashes with the current moment.

You break first and ask, “Can I get something off my chest?”

His head jerks up back at you, gaze flipping between each eye. “Go right ahead.” His hand comes up from the ramen to gesture towards you.

“When we broke up, you were pretty cold. It just... wasn’t you. Even now, you’ve been nothing but kind when I’m practically a stranger. I’m just really confused by you.” You let out. It’s been the center of your inner turmoil all morning, might as well rip the Band-Aid off at some point.

He drew a sharp breath in and stared at you. You shifted in your seat, eyes pulling away from his face, unable to hold the eye contact.

“Good thing for you, I’ve thought about this a lot,” he let out a dry humorless laugh, breaking his eye contact. “I thought I was being smart. But looking back it was kinda stupid. I convinced myself that it would be easier if you hated me. Like a clean break or something.” His eyes drop to the table. “My priorities were all out of whack, but I wish I let you in more.” His glaze slowly finds its way back to your face.

“Kuroo…” You’re not even sure where to begin, but you do. “Why the hell would I have wanted you to hurt me like that? I know we were in high school and all but... I loved you.” Your face scrunches up as you speak, tears daring to prick your eyes. Kuroo leans back, eyes widening, just a fraction.

“I really loved you, too,” he says quietly. “Like I said, I was stupid. I wish I could take it all back. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I really am.”

“I wish I knew what to say. I mean, I got over it eventually. But I’m glad you never hated me.” A smile tugged at your lips, competing with the tears that found themselves rolling down your cheeks.