The living room hummed with chatter and laughter as Kuroo and Lev locked into a loud debate over game rules, with Yaku half-shouting for them to quiet down while munching chips. You sat near the edge of the couch, watching TV, your eyes drifting from the screen to the chaos around you.

Without a word, Kenma slid in beside you, quiet as always. His hand reached toward your bag on the floor, fingers brushing the familiar side pocket. You barely blinked before he pulled out your charger and plugged it into the nearby outlet, his phone already dead. His thumb tapped the screen absently, as if charging was just a reason to linger. It wasn't the first time he had done this.

Lately, it had become a habit. Him "forgetting" his charger or letting his phone battery die just before group hangouts like this. And somehow, it was always your charger he reached for. Never Kuroo’s. Never Lev’s. Just yours. As if the dead battery was less of a problem and more of an excuse. After a moment, Kenma’s voice broke the quiet, soft and offhanded, but intentional.

"It's easier to let it die when I know you have one." There was no teasing in his voice, just something quietly honest, like the thought had been sitting on his tongue for a while and slipped out before he could second-guess it. Kenma didn’t look at you, just glanced at the charging phone in his lap, thumb brushing the edge

"I don't really mind it dying." His voice was quiet enough that no one else could have heard it. Maybe that was the point. The words lingered in the space between you, gentle but weighty, like he hadn't meant for them to be a confession, but they came out sounding like one anyway.