its tiring

The sound of the volleyball echoed through the gym, sharp and rhythmic, like a heartbeat I didn’t quite feel part of. I sat cross-legged on the sidelines, my switch in hand. The screen flickered with pixelated worlds, but my focus wavered. Across the court, Kuroo was in his element, his voice commanding as he directed Lev and Yaku through another drill.

Lev was grinning, clapping Yaku on the back as if he’d just won a championship. I watched as Kuroo ruffled Lev’s hair, his grin infectious, the whole court buzzing with his energy. I tightened my grip on my switch.

That was the thing about Kuroo—he made people feel like they belonged, like they mattered. I envied that.

“Kenma! Stop spacing out!”

His voice cut through my thoughts, and I blinked, realizing I’d been caught staring. Kuroo jogged over, his expression a mix of exasperation and amusement.

“You’re up next,” he said, flicking my forehead lightly.

I sighed, closing my game and standing. He always dragged me into things, but I couldn’t say no. Not to him.

As I stepped onto the court, the familiar rhythm of the game enveloped me. The ball came hurtling toward me, and I received it instinctively, sending it to Yaku. The set was perfect, as always, and Lev’s spike… well, it wasn’t bad.

The team erupted in cheers, and I felt a flicker of warmth. I wasn’t like Kuroo. I didn’t thrive in the spotlight. But moments like this—where our movements synced, where the team felt like a single entity—it brought a quiet kind of joy.

Practice ended, and as I packed up, I noticed Kuroo talking to Lev, his arm slung over the taller boy’s shoulders. Lev laughed, and for a moment, I felt a pang of something I couldn’t name. Envy, maybe.

It wasn’t that I wanted to be Lev. I didn’t. But seeing Kuroo light up like that, so effortlessly… I wondered if I ever made him feel that way.

“Hey, Kenma,” Kuroo’s voice pulled me back. He was standing in front of me, holding my bag.

“Let’s grab some food,” he said, his grin as sharp as ever.

I shrugged, falling into step beside him.

At the ramen shop, Kuroo did most of the talking, as usual. He rambled about tomorrow’s game, his excitement spilling over like boiling water. I nodded occasionally, letting his voice wash over me.

“Kenma,” he said suddenly, his tone softer.

I glanced up, meeting his eyes.

“Thanks for sticking around,” he said, his grin replaced by something genuine.

I felt a small tug at my chest, a mix of envy and joy. Envy because I wished I could express myself like he did. Joy because, despite everything, he saw me.

I looked away, the corners of my lips twitching upward. “You’re annoying, but… it’s not so bad.”

He laughed, the sound filling the small shop.

And for a moment, the envy melted away, leaving only the quiet joy of knowing that, in Kuroo’s chaotic world, I had a place.

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