#wrapped game

yaku sees kuroo grin up at the sky with tears in his eyes, backlit by the sun, and he suddenly remembers the boy with the stupid hair and the tears in his eyes and the smile on his face despite his obvious devastation, in one of yaku's last middle school games where the other team got absolutely trounced. the boy was tall, his tears were earnest, and he'd been running a hand through a wild mess of hair. yaku hadn't felt bad for winning, but he admired the boy's honest emotions, and the way he owned his tears. he wasn't the captain, but it seemed like maybe he should have been, the way his other teammates followed his example and smiled bravely as they bowed to thank their coaches.

it makes the puzzle piece of what kuroo said when they first met finally fall into place---he'd known he would have remembered a dumbass like kuroo tetsurou. he's the kind of person you don't look away from, once you notice him there. it's just that the bangs covering half his face and his aggressively shitty introduction had thrown yaku off, this entire time. they've known each other all along, after all!

it makes yaku smile, and he affectionately kicks kuroo in the shin. kuroo's crying face was something against the backdrop of sky, but his annoyed pout is even better, the shape of the clouds making the shape of his bedhead even stupider. yaku loves him so much he could cry himself, but he thinks he's done with tears for now.

instead, he asks kuroo if he wants to go get ramen, and kuroo obliges. one day yaku will tell kuroo he remembers him from middle school after all, but for now he'll keep it to himself. just until he figures out how to make "i remembered 'cuz you looked beautiful across the court then, and in front of the setting sun after our game a few days ago, and probably even now as i tell you this" sound less lovesick.