𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒗𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒔, t. kuroo ✓

from him, to you.

you better call me as soon as you finish listening to this, dumbass!

yeah. like that was going to happen.

it's the last day of classes for third years today, and he can feel the tension ease off their shoulders as he watches his fellow classmates fool around in the halls, knowing they wouldn't be reprimanded. drumming his fingers upon his desk, kuroo slowly tunes out the announcements given by student council over the P.A., thoughts drifting to an all too familiar place.

you.
.. or the thought of you, to be exact.

he wonders what your last class would be like. tearful goodbyes, promises to see one another in the future going unsaid within hugs. he'd given his farewell speech to his team already, everyone getting emotional as they wrapped their arms around each other in a last team huddle. (lev had cried a river, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't shed few tears of his own.) this team he'd lead and fought along and joked with for three years.. letting go stung. he supposes that's how you felt over the course of your one sided conversation. he's proud of your growth, despite being the negative cause of it, and it's then that he realizes he doesn't want to potentially send you spiraling once more. he recalls your singular encounter at the library and sighs quietly, looking out of the window with a frown.

he owed it to you to meet up, right? to clear any suspicious, to offer a somewhat decent explanation of why he did what he did. so when he makes he way to the same spot where you once shared your lunch breaks together, he waits for you to show up, leaning against the wall.

and then he hears it, hears you. your laughter rings out across the school grounds, but for him, it's dramatically amplified and he swears he could've burst into tears right then and there. time both stops and slows as his gaze hones in on you— god, you. a bright grin is etched upon your lips, laughter still echoing melodically around his ears. the need to have you in his arms skyrockets suddenly, and he almost calls out your name. almost. .. and then his gaze wanders down unintentionally.

his words shrivel and die before he even gets the chance to speak, clogged within this throat. his chest tightens as he takes in the sight of you walking towards him, arms linked with.. who he assumed to be who you were talking about in your eighth message. he doesn't know what he expected, honestly. you seem happy, and that's all he'd ever wanted, so why does despair hit him with the full blown force of a thousand waves? woe is me, the voice inside his head taunts in an awful attempt at an old english accent. thou broke the heart of the finest dame. thou must reap what thou sow. or however it goes.

he ducks out of view before you turn to see him, pressing his back into the wall once more. for the first time, he's glad this spot is so secluded from the bustling area. he doesn't want to ruin it. not again. never again.

he opts for pulling out his phone instead, hands shaking as he pulls your contact forth. fingers press call before he can register what they're doing, startling when you pick up and your voice floats through the speaker.

tetsu? hello? are you okay?

is he okay? he's peachy, and no, that is not sarcasm. he manages a audible reply of sorts and the briefest of smiles ghosts his lips when he hears your laugh again. your voice grows faint when you move away, and he can hear you telling the person next you that this call's important, i'll catch up with you later, okay? he catches a fainter okay, love you! and slides against the wall (as quietly as he could) when you say it back without missing a beat.

so you've moved on. a part of him wasn't surprised, but the thought of having slightest possibility of getting you back is what got him through this entire ordeal, as selfish as it sounds.