Kenma wasn't in school. Kuroo took out his phone and send him a text telling him to contact him. He was sure last match would have had an impact on the boy, but he hadn't expected him not showing up. He went to his class. He made some obligatory notes, checking his phone every few minutes to see if Kenma had replied. He pressed the button on his phone again and sighed relieved. 1 message. His relief disappeared as soon as he saw that the number was unknown.

01234567890: is kenma ok?

Kuroo: who is this?

01234567890: Hinata from karasuno

01234567890: i haven't heard from kenma in 3 days

01234567890: he won't pick up his phone

01234567890: i just called

Kuroo: I dont know

Kuroo: I will check

Kuroo got up from his desk, made up an excuse to leave class and left. He ran out of the school towards Kenma's House. Kenma would always reply to Hinata. Always. He would always smile when he received a message, always. Why not now? The road was longer than he remembered.

He finally reached Kenma's house and sprinted to the front door. He took the spare key from under the doormat, like he had done a thousand times, and unlocked the door. He ran through the hallway, not bothering to take off his shoes or close the door behind him. With loud stomps he climbed the stairs and finally stood in front of Kenma's room. He did not knock, he did not ask permission to enter. His body moved on his own and he swung open the door.

The room was in twilight. Only the desk light burned, revealing a single notebook. Closed curtains. Closed blinds. The room was in chaos. Pillows were scattered across, a blanket hung over a closet. Kenma's chair lay on it's side in the middle of the room. His books were scattered over the floor, as if he had decided to empty his bag in the middle of the room. The bag itself was nowhere to be seen. On his bed lay his phone, the white light illuminating a few folds on his mattress.

Kenma was wearing his red Nekoma track suit. It slightly sagged, reaching over his heels. Almost covering his feet. Kuroo stood petrified. Kenma's feet were not touching the ground. For a moment Kuroo could not get any air. He didn't know what he should do, he felt the adrenalin pump through is body as his muscles took control. He ran forward, grabbed the boy by his waist and lifted him up. Tugging at the belt around his neck. Kenma swayed side to side, making it nearly impossible for Kuroo to get him down. Finally he succeeded and the boy fell on the ground with a loud smack.

Kuroo moved fast. He knew he had to get help. He pulled his phone from his pocket, dialed 119, put the phone on speaker and threw it besides him. Kenma was not breathing. He pinched Kenma's nose, put their lips together and blew. A woman was talking to him through the phone. He nearly screamed to her. He tried to explain the situation, but he couldn't finish a single sentence. He wasn't even sure he was making any sense. The woman on the other side seemed to understand, Kuroo blew out a sigh of relief when she said she would send an ambulance.

He wasn't sure what he was doing. He put his hands on Kenma's chest and pumped. How long did you have to do this? At what tempo? He had only seen this thing in movies, there had to be a trick to it. He alternated the makeshift CPR with breathing into Kenma's mouth.

He didn't know how long he had been doing this when he was dragged away from his friend. A large man forced him on the bed as a man and a women sat on both sides of Kenma. They ripped open his shirt and put the cold iron of a defibrillator on his chest. The current made the boy spasm.

Kuroo sat, helpless. His legs were shaking, his arms were shaking. The man sitting besides him on the bed offered him a tissue, was he crying? He was crying, tears flowed down his cheeks. Was he breathing? He wasn't sure.

It was not long until the man and the woman stood up. The woman shook her head. The man apologized. Kuroo did not understand, or maybe he did. Was this the end? He looked at the man next to him, he shook his head and apologized. Why did they apologize? They had to save him!

"You have to.." He yelled, but his voice died before he could finish his sentence.

He cried. He trembled. "No, no, no." His mantra repeated, drove out the deafening silence of the room. "No, no, no." The man put an arm around him and stroked his shoulder. "No, no, no." The other man and woman were packing, talking in the hallway in a voice that was not meant to be heard, but heard anyway. They conversed matter of factly, dealing with the practical issues that arose. Kuroo blocked it out. "No, no, no."

The man beside him started to talk. Explained how they couldn't do any more. How he was sorry. How Kuroo had done all he could have done. Kuroo's mantra fell silent, his lips moving without sound.

He did all that he could have? How could that be? This man clearly knew not wat he was talking about. If only he had stayed with Kenma. If only he picked him up this morning. If only…

It was over now. It was all over.

Kuroo hates the way he looks now. A black suit, a black tie, a black shirt. There is no more complete way to express his mourning in clothing. He sighs as he gets in out of the car and walks into the church. It's still early and the gothic building is dimly lit. He glances around, seeing Kenma's family and friends. He smiles as his eyes pass bright orange hair. Hinata made it all the way from Miyagi. It was weird to see Hinata in a black suit and a mournful face, but he was extremely grateful of it.

The service proceeded and it became his time to speak. He did not really want to, but Kenma's mother had forced him. With hanging shoulders he slouched forward and took his place behind the lectern. He got a piece of paper from his pocket en stroke if flat. He leaned with both hands on the wood, took a deep breath and read aloud.

"Dear Kuroo,"

He glanced the room. Wanting to know if they knew what was coming. He couldn't tell. Another deep breath.

"I'm sorry to do this to you. I know you are worried."

He exhaled the last of his breath with a tremble.

"I lived in darkness for the last years. But you were my light. When you were around the darkness was gone. Every day I would watch your light leave me. And I would get through the night, knowing you would light my morning."

Kuroo's voice trembled. He could feel a lump in his throat. He tried to look composed, but knew he failed miserably.

"Kuroo, I have grown blind. Your light has not faded, but my vision has. Now your presence hurts me, it adds to the darkness."

A tear rolled from his eye.

"I cannot live in a world where the people I love hurt me. I have lived here too long. Forgive me. I will always love you."

Kuroo sobbed.

"Forever yours, Kenma."

Kuroo walked away from the lectern and moved toward the casket. He flung his arms around it, crying. He fell to his knees and let his arms slide over the sleek brown wood. "I forgive you." He sobbed. "I'm yours forever too."