Kuroo doesn’t remember exactly when he started liking you. It wasn’t a lightning bolt moment. It was slower than that. In a very unfashionably Kuroo-like way, it was quieter.

Maybe it was when your laugh caught him off guard, full and unfiltered, at some dumb joke he made. Or maybe it was when you started stealing bites of his onigiri without asking, claiming it was a "friend tax." Somewhere between your casual banter and the way your shoulder always found his when you walked side by side, something shifted.

The routine had become second nature. You’d show up after games, win or lose, and toss your bag down like you lived there. You’d grab two drinks from his fridge before he even kicked his shoes off. And then you’d flop onto his couch, waiting for him like you always did.

Kuroo told himself it didn’t mean anything. That you were just affectionate like that. But then, you called him "your person" during a party, arm slung lazily around his neck, and he felt the ground tilt just a little. That night, he stared at his ceiling longer than he cared to admit, letting the word echo in his chest.

He started to think maybe, just maybe, you felt it too.

But then came the conversation. One of those casual ones you probably don’t even remember. You mentioned someone you liked. Not him. Just someone. And you looked so happy when you talked about it. He laughed. Made some joke, to ease the sting.

Today, when you came over to keep him company after Kenma cancelled on him, you kicked your feet onto his lap like nothing had changed, and he smiled like nothing had. Because, in the end, you never promised him anything. You never asked for his heart, and he gave it to you anyway. In stolen glances, in subtle favors, in all the spaces between words. And now he’s left holding it alone, trying to figure out how to un-feel something that never really got the chance to be real.

"You know," he starts, voice casual, like he’s just thinking out loud, "it’s kind of dangerous how easy it is to get used to someone being around. Like, one day you’re just relaxing, and the next, you’re rearranging your fridge to make room for their weird drink preferences."

"I don’t even like the little cans of death juice you keep leaving here. But I keep restocking them. Like an idiot."

Kuroo shakes that thought away and exhales, laughing under his breath. "Anyway. Pass me the remote, would you? Before I say something actually embarrassing."