Kenma watches as the flames surround him, close him in. They cut off every possible path of escape and he’s never been much of a runner to begin with. All his options are crumbling down around him as easily as his life has fallen to pieces. Perhaps he brought this on himself.
Kenma’s fingers curl into his palm as he clenches his fists. His teeth grind together as his mind conjures images of the mindless boys who thought playing with fire could have no consequences. He could still hear their laughter as he shoved them out of the way, away from the fire, away from his home, his family.
All of it is no more. All except those boys who ran away like the cowards they are. Rage boils within him, as hot as the flames that surrounded him. Hotter even. Hotter than the fire that torn apart his home, that burned his parents until their screams died away to nothing but the roar of destruction around him.
I will… Have my revenge… He thinks, pushing himself off the ground. Revenge was never something he felt he would need to seek outside the video game worlds he often chose to spend his time, but now… He faces the flames, convinced that they won’t hurt him, convinced that maybe he can make it out. Someone has to teach those boys the lessons they never learned.
His eyes burn with a desperate passion as he slowly extends a hand toward the flames. He feels the heat for only a second, ready to accept whatever fate is ready to throw at him–he has nothing to lose, after all- when the room goes dark and the flames die down to nothing more than a shadow of their former selves.
Kenma jerks his hand back and stumbles away as a shape emerges from the darkness. It’s a man–no… Kenma thinks. It’s something more.
A smile stretches wide across the face in front of Kenma, hungry and wanton, yet intriguingly inviting in the terror it exudes. His eyes gleam as though he stands beneath a light to catch the sparkle of mischief within them. His hair is a mess, but somehow appears as though not a strand is out of place.
Organized chaos, Kenma thinks as he stares into the eyes that speak a promise Kenma knows he’ll accept without a second though.
“Kozume Kenma,” the man purrs, his voice deep, almost melodic. He clicks his tongue against his teeth as he takes another step forward, his legs stretching to impossible lengths until he can stop in front of Kenma. “I felt you."
Kenma doesn’t respond.
"From so far away, I felt your desperation. Your need is my desire.” He extends a hand, long fingers stretching forward. Kenma notes the dark color of his nails, so unnatural yet fitting for a character of his appearance. “I think we can come to an agreement that will benefit us both. What do you say…” The man pauses, his grin stretching impossibly wider. “kitten?"
Kenma shudders at the name, the familiarity of the term confusing him. He’s certain no one has ever called him that before. He stares at this man’s hand, hesitating for only a moment before reaching out. He feels the warmth of the larger hand envelope his own threading their fingers and pulling Kenma even closer.
"My name is Kuroo Tetsurou.” Kuroo’s hand feels as hot as the flame Kenma had been ready to sacrifice himself to only moment before. “And I will be the blood in your veins. I will flow without stopping. I will keep the oxygen moving and your mind working until you fulfill your deepest desire. And then your soul…” Kuroo licks his lips and his grip on Kenma’s hand tightens. “Your soul will be mine for the taking."
Kenma doesn’t have to think before he nods in response. He’s lost everything. His soul is all he has left and if he has to lose it, he wants to do it on his own terms.
"Excellent.” Kuroo’s thumb traces a line down the side of Kenma’s hand until the tip of his nail presses into the pulse at his wrist. “What is it you desire most, Kenma?"
Kenma’s response comes out as a soft growl, a sound he’s sure he’s never made before, one that has never been more justified than it is now.