The Galaxy Is Endless ( I thought we were, too.)

Part 12

{ A song has been linked above to make thing's much worse for yourself (: }

Saturday mornings were Kenma's favourite. There were no obligations. No work. No meetings. Nothing pressing he had to spend his day on. He cracked his eyes open slowly, the room bathed in a soft, warm glow. The sun was up. He supposed that meant that he should get up, too.

Kenma lazily reached across for Kuroo, but instead only felt cold sheets underneath his hand. He patted around for a few more moments, as though he had just missed Kuroo, but alas, felt nothing. He opened his eyes the whole way, taking in the full sight of their empty bed.

Kuroo usually waited for Kenma to get up on Saturdays, perhaps today was an exception. The bed felt cold and lonely without him, though. Kenma thought he was ridiculous for thinking that.

He arched his back in a gratuitous stretch before pulling the coverlet down, and rolling out of bed in a relatively ungraceful manner. He had never been known for being a morning person.

Soon after, he was padding down the corridor to the living room and kitchen, hopefully where Kuroo was.

And there he was, seated on the very end of their sofa, gazing out a window and gripping a mug of something that looked like tea, completely oblivious to Kenma's arrival. Kenma couldn't help but notice the dark circles under his eyes, they'd been so prominent lately. Kenma slowly approached, making Kuroo aware of his presence as he sat down next to him on the lounge, legs brushing together. Kuroo didn't acknowledge him at all.

Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

"Kuro?" Kenma's voice was as gentle as he could muster.

Kuroo shook his head, his eyes appearing to become glassy, perhaps a trick of the light. He still didn't turn to face Kenma.

Kenma could feel his heart racing in his chest. Something was wrong, and he didn't know what it could be. It made him feel ill, his stomach twisting into unpleasant knots, bile threatening to spill out of his throat. Something was wrong with Kuroo, and Kenma didn't even have a guess as to what it was. There was no way he'd be so despondent over his PhD, it had to be more than that.

He placed a tentative hand on Kuroo's leg. "Kuro? What's going on?"

Kuroo's grip around his mug tightened, his jaw tensing. Kenma wished he could take whatever was ailing him away. His heart ached at seeing the singular most important person in his life in such anguish; anguish that he didn't even understand.

"You can tell me anything, you know."

"Kenma?" Kuroo's voice was croaky. Another bad sign.

"Hi," Kenma whispered, rubbing circles into Kuroo's leg. "What's happening?" Kenma wouldn't usually push so hard, trusting Kuroo would just tell him in time. However, the odd behaviour had been going on for months, and Kenma couldn't just sit back and watch Kuroo bear the brunt of it alone anymore. 

"I don't know how to tell you." Kuroo's voice wobbled in a way that Kenma had never heard it. He'd never sounded so unsure.

Kenma's heart was doing backflips inside of his chest. He couldn't recall anything, or even come up with a scenario that Kuroo would struggle to tell him. They'd known each other their whole lives, the only thing of importance that Kuroo had ever kept from him was the fact that they were soulmates. Uncertainty was not something Kenma had ever attributed with Kuroo, and right now it was terrifying him.

Kenma pried one of Kuroo's hands off of his mug, pulling it into his lap, and began to trace circles into his palm. There was the possibility that telling Kuroo how much he was scaring Kenma right now would only serve to push him away further, so he didn't. His heart continued to beat rapidly in his chest, threatening to burst out of his ribcage.