Your gateway to endless inspiration
Event: Angstpril 2025 by @chaos-company
Fandom: Haikyuu
Ship: Kuroo/Ken
Rating: T
Tags: Angst, rejection
The rehearsal studio smelled like perfume and sweat. Kenma’s hands were trembling against the barre, knuckles white, trying not to cry.
“You weren’t supposed to take the role,” he said, voice a half-gone whisper.
Kuroo didn’t respond at first. He stood by the center mark, hair tousled from the practice. The light hit him perfectly. Principal dancer. Star of the show.
“You dropped out, Kenma,” he said finally. It sounded like an excuse.
“I sprained my ankle. I told the director I’d be back in two weeks at most. It wasn’t permanent.” Kenma turned around. His cat eyes sharp as the cuts in their pas de deux. “You told me you’d cover for me, not replace me.”
Kuroo looked down, jaw clenching. “The gala’s in six days. They needed someone.”
“They needed you, apparently.” He spit. The air between them crackled.
Kenma took a step forward. A jolt shot through his joints. He wasn’t supposed to be dancing yet, but he’d been practicing alone. Hidden. Waiting for his return to the stage where he belonged. But this was wrong. It was supposed to be with Kuroo. “You could’ve said no.” Tears ebbed at the corners of his eyes.
“I couldn’t,” Kuroo said, swallowing. “You don’t get it, Kenma. This isn’t like before. They were going to pull the entire piece if they didn’t have a name. I thought…”
“What? That I’d be okay with you dancing our routine with someone else?”
‘It’s not like that.”
“Don’t lie to me!”
Kuroo moved toward him, but Kenma backed away.
“I trusted you,” Kenma said again, softer this time, like a ghost speaking from beyond. “Out of everyone in this company, you. You were supposed to be on my side.”
Kuroo ruffled, “I am on your side, goddammit!”
“Then why does it feel like I’ve been pushed offstage?” The silence returned, heavier now. Harsher.
Kuroo reached out, his hand hovering over Kenma’s shoulder. So close to touching, but not daring to make contact. “I didn’t want to lose it,” he said. “The piece. Us. I thought if I could keep it alive until you were ready-”
“You killed it,” Kenma said, full tears spilling over “Because now every time I hear that music, I won’t think of us. I’ll think of you and her.”
Kuroo flinched. “I just wanted to protect it,” he whispered.
Kenma looked at him for a long moment. Then, finally, stepped forward and rested his forehead against Kuroo’s shoulder. “You can’t protect something by pretending it doesn’t hurt,” he said, voice cracking. “Next time... just dance with me. Or not at all.”
Kuroo wrapped his arms around him, tentative, guilty. “Next time,” he promised.