The night air clung heavy as you pushed through the gym doors, heart pounding in your chest like it was trying to catch up with everything your mind refused to slow down.
Kuroo was already there back turned, hands braced against the wall like it was the only thing holding him up. His shoulders rose and fell unevenly, a storm contained in the fragile shell of his body.
"Kuroo—"
"Don't." His voice cracked like glass, sharp enough to stop you mid-step. He didn't turn, didn't look at you, but the way his head bowed, the way his fists clenched at his sides, said more than words.
You swallowed, throat dry. "You can't keep—"
That was when he spun, and for the first time, you saw it every wall gone, every mask shattered. His eyes burned with something raw, something desperate.
"Do you have any idea what it does to me?" he snapped, voice shaking as much as his hands. "Seeing you with him laughing, letting him touch you like he matters more? You think this is about volleyball? About rivalry?" He dragged a hand through his hair, frustration spilling out in jagged breaths. "It's not. It's you. It's always been you."
Your breath caught. The words you'd both been dancing around, skirting past, were suddenly there, sharp and undeniable.
And in that moment, it hit you Oikawa was warmth, comfort, a smile that made the world feel lighter. But Kuroo… Kuroo was home. The ache in your chest, the way your heart had pulled toward him even in silence it had always been him.
"Kuroo…" Your voice trembled as you stepped closer. "I—"
But another voice cut through the night.
"Guess I never really stood a chance, did I?"
You froze. Oikawa stood a few steps away, smiling soft but pained, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. The look in his eyes said he'd known long before this moment, but hearing it seeing it still broke something in him.
"Oikawa—" you started, but he shook his head gently, forcing a laugh that didn't quite land.
"No. Don't." His gaze flicked between you and Kuroo, lingering just long enough for your chest to tighten. "I think… I always knew where your heart would land. I just hoped maybe just maybe you'd let me hold it first."
The silence that followed was heavy, unmovable.
Then he stepped back, smile curving, sad but sincere. "Take care of her, Kuroo. If anyone can, it's you." And just like that, he turned, walking away into the dark without another word. You stood there, trembling, the echo of his footsteps fading until the only sound left was your heartbeat.
And Kuroo…Kuroo was still staring at you like you were the only thing left worth fighting for.
Your chest ached for Oikawa, for the soft sadness in his smile, for the way he had walked away without asking you to follow. But no matter how sharp that ache was, it wasn't enough to pull you from the boy standing in front of you now the boy whose eyes burned with something that demanded every ounce of you.
"You don't…" His voice cracked, rough, trembling with something you'd never heard before. "You don't have any clue how much you drive me insane, do you?"
The words tumbled out of him, unpolished, but there was no stopping them now. He dragged a hand down his face, his laugh sharp and bitter as he shook his head. "Every time you laugh at him, every time you let him look at you like you're his… It kills me. And I thought I could deal with it, that maybe if I just focused on volleyball on the scholarship I'd get over it." His chest rose and fell unevenly, his hands curling into fists at his sides.
"But I can't," he admitted, softer now, the fight leaving his voice. His gaze locked onto yours like he needed you to see the truth spilling out of him. "I don't care about the scholarship anymore. I don't care about anything except—"
He broke off suddenly, his breath hitching as tears welled, slipping down his cheeks before he could stop them. He turned his head away, biting down hard, his shoulders trembling under the weight of what he wasn't sure he should say.
Your heart lurched. You'd seen Kuroo frustrated, cocky, sharp with his words but never like this. Never shattered. Never laid bare in a way that stripped him down to nothing but a boy standing on the edge of breaking. And somehow, even through the ache, through the mess, you couldn't look away.
"Kuroo…" you whispered, the sound of his name trembling in the night air.
He squeezed his eyes shut, his voice fraying as he forced the words out. "I just want you, Y/n."
Silence fell between you. Thick. Crushing. Sacred.
Your chest tightened so hard it hurt to breathe. Because in that moment, there was no rivalry, no practice, no scholarship. Just him. Just you. And the truth that had finally clawed its way to the surface.
The night pressed in around you, but all you could feel was the heat in Kuroo's stare. The sharp edges of him—his sarcasm, his pride, his rivalry had been stripped away, leaving only the rawest, most vulnerable pieces. Pieces he'd never shown anyone else.
And somehow, those pieces fit into you like they'd always belonged there.
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat refusing to budge as your heart hammered painfully against your ribs. You could still feel Oikawa's shadow, his laugh, his warmth, the way he had always made everything feel lighter but it was Kuroo who held you now. Kuroo who had your breath snagging, your chest aching, your world tilting off its axis.
Your lips parted, but no words came. You didn't need them. Not when the silence between you was already full of everything you couldn't say.
Kuroo's eyes locked with yours, searching, desperate, like he was drowning and you were the only thing that could pull him back to the surface. Time stretched thin, every second a thread pulling tighter, closer, until you could feel his heartbeat echoing in your own.
And then finally the silence broke.
"Y/n…" His voice was low, unsteady, stripped down to something almost fragile. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes flickering between yours and your lips. "Can I… can I kiss you?"
The world seemed to still. Your breath caught. The weight of everything, the rivalry, the guilt, the aching pull pressed heavy on your chest. And yet, in the middle of it all, your answer was simple.
You nodded.
Yes.
For a heartbeat, nothing moved. Just the weight of the choice you'd finally made, the silence stretching between you like the breath before a storm. Kuroo's chest rose and fell unevenly, his eyes locked on yours, dark and shining like he was terrified and elated all at once.
And then he moved.
His hand brushed against your cheek first, hesitant, almost reverent, his thumb grazing your skin like he wasn't sure you were real. The calluses there were rough, but the touch was so unbearably tender it made your breath catch.
When he finally closed the distance, his lips met yours in a rush that stole everything from you—your breath, your balance, your thoughts. The kiss wasn't neat, wasn't polished, it was desperate and raw, years of swallowed feelings and sharp edges breaking free all at once.
One hand cradled the back of your head, fingers sliding into your hair, tugging just enough to draw a shiver from you. The other splayed across your waist, pulling you firmly against him, like if he let go, the ground itself might give way. You could feel the heat of his palm through the fabric, steady and grounding even as the world tilted beneath your feet.
He kissed you like he was both breaking apart and being put back together at the same time. Every press of his lips against yours was both a confession and a plea. His breath hitched when you responded, when you leaned into him, your fingers curling tightly into the front of his shirt like you couldn't stand even an inch of space between you.
The kiss deepened, slow at first, then sharper, rougher his lips moving with urgency, his teeth grazing yours in a fleeting clash that made your heart stutter. But then he softened, slowing, as if reminding himself to be careful with you, to not overwhelm even though every line of his body screamed that he wanted more.
His thumb traced your jaw, your cheekbone, small grounding touches against the intensity of everything else, as though to remind himself you were here, that you'd chosen him.
It was dizzying, consuming you could taste the salt of his tears when the kiss shifted, broken only by a sharp breath between you. Kuroo didn't pull away; he only pressed his forehead to yours, his lips still brushing yours with every trembling inhale, every shaky exhale, like he couldn't bear to lose the contact.
And for the first time, you understood. All the sharp words, the jealousy, the tension, it was all this. Him, breaking at the seams because of how much he felt, how much he wanted, how much he'd held back until he couldn't anymore.
Kuroo kissed you like you were everything.
And against every warning in your head, every ache in your chest—
You kissed him back like he was, too.
He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.
"I love you Yn…"