Archive of Our Own

The first thing Kuroo notices about Sawamura Daichi is that wherever he goes, there are flowers.

When Sawamura puts a foot down on the earthy ground after stepping out of the gymnasium, a single flower sprouts and curls its way delicately up his calf. Kuroo watches in fascination as Sawamura lifts his leg, his mouth moving as he gently coaxes the flower to release its grip on him. The same thing happens with the next few steps he takes, only that the flowers trail behind him instead of clinging onto him.

"Hey, good game," Sawamura says to him with an outstretched hand. Kuroo takes it out of reflex, but he is late in meeting Sawamura's eyes, too busy watching the patch of wildflowers coming into bloom by his feet.

Sawamura follows the direction of his gaze and a sheepish smile spreads out across his face. But he doesn't take back his hand and it remains trapped in the not-handshake Kuroo has it in.

"Is that your gift?" Kuroo asks, finally tearing his eyes away from the ground at Sawamura's feet.

"Yeah," Sawamura replies, good-naturedly enough. "It can get kind of messy at times." He turns his head towards the mass of flowers decorating the ground outside the gym, tracking the different paths that one Sawamura Daichi had walked through at some time or another.

"Wow," Kuroo says and means it. He had been wondering about that. He and his team had put it down to an enthusiastic, if not slightly eccentric, gardener of sorts in the school. "They're pretty."

"They are," Sawamura admits. "But they get trod on pretty often too since they're all over the place."

"That's a shame."

Sawamura shrugs. "It happens."

Kuroo finally remembers to shake Sawamura's hand, accidentally gripping it harder than he should have. He opens his mouth to apologise, but Sawamura squeezes his hand tightly in retaliation and he forgets all about it.

"So I'll be seeing you around then, Sawamura-kun," Kuroo says brightly as they break apart. The skin on Sawamura's hand is bright red, the shape of Kuroo's fingers imprinted on the underside of his palms, and it looks as painful as Kuroo's hand feels.

"At the nationals, ideally," Sawamura replies, tacking on a polite smile that matches the one on Kuroo's face exactly.

As he turns to face his waiting team, Kuroo decides that Sawamura is devious, under that whole serious, smiling captain front he has on. It isn't exactly a bad thing.

---

Kuroo remembers the flowers as Karasuno shows up at their joint training camp. He and Kai meet them at the train station, guiding them through the streets of Tokyo.

Sawamura walks at his side, striking up a casual conversation about volleyball and school. The ground he walks on is paved with concrete and Kuroo is disappointed to find that the flowers don't bloom there. Still, he keeps up his side of the conversation as he discreetly tries to lead Sawamura onto the earthy patches. He considers himself a bit of an expert at distraction, but Sawamura is even better than him at concentrating, firmly keeping on the pavement despite all of Kuroo's subtle nudging.

The pavement ends when they reach the school and the both of them pause at its edge at the same time. The rest of the team has yet to catch up, which explains why there isn't anyone slamming into their backs at the abrupt stop. Kuroo sneaks a glance at Sawamura then at his feet, which toe the line between concrete and earth.

He thinks he sees Sawamura shoot a look back at him, nothing more than a butterfly-quick flicker of his eyes in Kuroo's direction. Then, Sawamura sighs softly and takes a step forward.

There is something magical about the way the ground wakes up when Sawamura touches it, even in a world full of bizarre and completely arbitrary gifts. Kuroo watches in rapt attention as the first flower unfurls, its petals trembling as it reaches for the sky.

"Kuroo," Sawamura's voice cuts straight into his concentration, "if you would lead the way?"

There is something like disapproval in the slant of his eyes, which makes Kuroo straighten up and walk himself past Sawamura, leading the way like the friendly Tokyo guide he was supposed to be. It is a pity, because Sawamura stays half a step behind him and Kuroo has to imagine the flowers spreading out behind him instead of seeing them for himself.

A short distance away, he hears a faint cry of "What the hell is this?" from Yamamoto and he clamps down on a scowl.

"I'm sorry about the ground," Sawamura says once they are on the move. "It'll be fine once I move indoors."

"Don't worry about it. It'll probably be a vast improvement to the school anyway," Kuroo replies easily.

"This isn't even your school," Sawamura points out, but there is faint amusement behind his words and Kuroo takes that as a victory.

"Details."

They reach the entrance of the gym at a brisk pace, with Kuroo eager to stop and see the path they left behind. As expected, there is a road of flowers marking the ground that Sawamura had walked on. He hadn't noticed it the first time, but the flowers aren't all the same. There are yellows and whites and purples, all tiny flowers he doesn't have the faintest clue what their names are. They sway in the faint breeze circling the yard, the sunlight catching on their vivid colours and making their petals gleam in the afternoon sun.

He would drag Sawamura all around the school just to watch more flowers push their way out of the ground after him, except that he might actually incur Sawamura's wrath, niceties be damned. The person in question watches him in guarded silence, his face carefully blank. Kuroo reads unhappiness in the turn of his mouth and in the way he folds his arms against his chest, like he's closing himself off.

The flowers make a path up to where Sawamura is, the last of them reaching vainly across the concrete to where he is standing. It reminds Kuroo of the first time they had met, when the flowers had twined around Sawamura's legs like a particularly affectionate cat. Sawamura remains indifferent to them, keeping well away from the border between ground and concrete.

"Don't you like them?" Kuroo asks impulsively.

"Like what?" Sawamura says warily.

"The flowers. They're part of your gift, aren't they?"

"They are," he says and that is all the answer Kuroo gets.

Despite popular opinion, Kuroo knows his limits. Sawamura's replies have gotten curt, clipped, and he knows that if pushes again, Sawamura might stop talking to him altogether. Instead, he turns his attention back to the neglected flowers as they draw away from Sawamura, as if in disappointment, and cease to move.

---

It doesn't take long for the Fukurodani school grounds to grow overrun with flowers, which puzzles the collective members of the Tokyo teams until someone figures it out. For all that Sawamura has tried to stay off the ground, the image of him darting from building to building with flowers trailing after him has become an all too common sight.

Everyone has gifts. Some are subtle, manifesting in a way only the holder knows about, and some are like Sawamura's, glaringly obvious and attention-grabbing. Or attention-grabbing to Kuroo at least. Most of the other members lose interest in the flowers after a couple of days, but Sawamura's gift still holds Kuroo's rapt attention now, a week into the training camp.

A break in between the matches finds him at the entrance of the gym, crouched over a patch of flowers that had sprouted when Sawamura lingered there for too long. He touches his fingertips to their soft petals, amused by the way they spring back at the contact, little signs of life that mark them as Sawamura's creation.

Kenma slumps down beside him, his weight barely pressing against Kuroo's side as he fights back exhaustion.

"They're pretty," Kuroo says in answer to Kenma's unspoken question. Kenma's eyes slide shut like he is trying to conserve energy, and his shoulders lift in the tiniest of shrugs which Kuroo takes to mean "suit yourself".

Evening draws near, but Kuroo can still see the flowers perfectly in the dying light. The managers had been gathering flowers earlier that day, led by the older of the two Karasuno managers, placing them in miscellaneous bottles of water around school. But they hadn't managed to get all of them and across the school grounds, some of the flowers have been trampled into the earth.

"If you're so worried about the flowers, maybe you should do something about them," Kenma remarks quietly and his eyes are open again, fixed on the flowers before them.

Kuroo traces around a petal absently, slowly turning Kenma's words over in his head. This patch of flowers is new, freshly come into life when Karasuno had taken a break during the previous round. It remains untouched, apart from Kuroo's prodding, and something in him really wants it to stay this way.

The managers had the right idea, clipping them neatly and decorating the school with them while they were still fresh and beautiful. While the flowers would only last for a few days before they wilted and had to be thrown out, it was a far better fate than being crushed underfoot during morning runs and evening cooldowns. But Kuroo still thinks that it would be a waste.

He likes the flowers best when they are still rooted in the ground, their tiny faces turning towards Sawamura when he passes, looking like they want to chase after him. Or when they first start to grow around Sawamura's feet, stretching upwards to touch him reverently. He likes it when the flowers are still alive, making little motions here and there that set them apart from normal flowers. He wonders why Sawamura doesn't seem to like his flowers all that much.

"You're not going to start bothering the Karasuno captain, are you?" Kenma interrupts his thoughts.

"I never bother anyone." Kuroo presses a hand to his chest, feigning affront.

"You bother me every day."

"That's different. That's what childhood friends are for."

"Pass." Kenma turns back to look into the gym where the matches are coming to an end.

According to the schedule, their next match against Karasuno was the last one of the day. Maybe after that, Kuroo could do something about the flower patch. But for now, he leaves it be, throwing one last glance at it over his shoulder as he follows Kenma back into the gym.

---

Somehow, the little patch of flowers growing by the gym gets an enclosure of its own. Kuroo returns to tend to it after dinner, a bunch of disposable chopsticks in one hand and a ball of twine in the other. He stakes the chopsticks into the ground, spreading them out as evenly as he can, then winds the twine tightly around them, boxing the flowers in. It is a makeshift sort of effort, one that Kuroo hopes will keep people off the flowers until he comes up with something better. Not everyone has his eyesight in the dark, but he reckons that the lights from the surrounding buildings would be just enough for people to take notice of the flower patch.

Kuroo passes the row of gymnasiums on his way back, patting himself on the back for a job well done, when all the lights go out. In the sudden darkness, he hears a stream of complaints from the nearest building, some more high-pitched than others, and finds himself gravitating towards it. He steps through the entranceway just as someone steps out and runs straight into him.

His hands drop onto broad shoulders out of reflex, steadying the both of them before they fall back from the collision. There is a burst of pain in his jaw, marking the exact spot he had been headbutted in.

"Sorry," Sawamura apologises, a hand fisted in Kuroo's shirt to anchor him in place.

"What's the rush, Sawamura?"

"Kuroo?"

"The one and only. Shouldn't you be staying put during a blackout?"

Sawamura drops his hand and Kuroo follows suit. "It's not a blackout, it's Kageyama."

Kuroo whistles lowly. "This is his gift? It's pretty strong if it reached this far."

"He has a gift that absorbs light from his surroundings. He usually has control over it and if he's causing blackouts Hinata and him are probably fighting over something again." Sawamura sighs. "I've got to go find them."

"I'll come with you. I can see in the dark, you see." A grin spreads over Kuroo's face, which is a shame because Sawamura misses it. "Or maybe you don't."

The eye-roll that follows is perfectly discernible to Kuroo and it only makes his grin widen. "Is that your gift?"

"Yeah. It's pretty useful in times like this, as you can see. Oh wait, you can't—"

"Thank you, Kuroo," Sawamura says forcefully. He reaches out a hand to clap Kuroo on the shoulder, but he misses and his knuckles brush against Kuroo's chest. "That would save me so much trouble. I've just been stumbling around blind."

Kuroo catches his hand just before it falls fully past him and he sees Sawamura's eyes widen slightly. The curves of their hands fit together perfectly and Kuroo tangles his fingers in Sawamura's before he realises what he's doing.

"Here, hold on to me," Kuroo explains, his words coming out in a rush as he hurriedly shifts his grip on Sawamura so that his fingers are wrapped around his wrist instead.

"Oh. Thanks," Sawamura says, the confusion still apparent on his face.

Kuroo leads him out of the gym, taking slow steps so that Sawamura can find his feet in the dark. "I think I saw Kageyama and the shorty over in the first gym. They were practising quick attacks and yelling."

"Sounds about right," Sawamura says dryly.

"Out of curiosity, how were you going to find Kageyama in the dark before you ran into me?"

"By looking for Hinata. They're probably practising together and I'm not sure if you've noticed it but Hinata glows."

"Glows?"

"Yeah, he doesn't glow very brightly so it's usually hard to miss. He says that he produces more heat than normal too so he's sort of like a miniature sun."

The mental image sticks in Kuroo's head when he envisions Hinata, all energy and bright orange. "It fits."

Sawamura chuckles. "It does, doesn't it? Strangely enough, Kageyama's gift doesn't seem to affect him so he's like a beacon in the dark."

"So they really do come as a set, don't they?"

"Don't say that in front of them," Sawamura warns but Kuroo can hear the amusement in his voice, under all those layers of disapproval.

He probably will one day, if only to provoke them when necessary, but he doesn't say that out loud. Instead, he tightens his hold on Sawamura, his fingers pressing down into warm skin and holding there for a fraction of a second before he eases up, like an indication of a promise he won't keep. Knowing Sawamura, he probably caught that anyway, which suits Kuroo just fine.

As they cross over to the next gym, Kuroo veers to one side to avoid the smattering of flowers that greets them there. The flowers are all over the ground, perking up in Sawamura's presence, and Kuroo ends up taking the most complicated path to their destination so that they don't trample on them. It also means that he ends up pulling Sawamura in different directions in too short a time, which definitely catches his attention.

"Why are we zigzagging around so much?" Sawamura asks suspiciously.

"So that we don't step on the flowers."

Sawamura's arm goes tense in his grip. "It's fine. That happens all the time."

Kuroo knows that this is his cue to back off before he loses Sawamura entirely, but he is feeling stubborn tonight after dedicating an entire hour of his life to protecting said flowers. "That's not something you should get used to, Sawamura."

As expected, he doesn't get a response from Sawamura. Kuroo guides him to the entrance of the gym he had last seen the Karasuno first years in as the silence stretches out between them unbearably.

Inside, they find Hinata crouched in one corner, sulking as he remains the only bright thing in the all-encompassing darkness. There is someone next to him, holding onto his hand and half-illuminated by the light he gives off, who Kuroo recognises as the younger Karasuno manager.

She looks terrified, trembling so hard that it travels through Hinata's arm. There are a pair of sparrows perched on her shoulders, chattering to her as she jerks her head up and down in response. A solitary crow stands in front of her, attempting to menace Kuroo and Sawamura as they approach. It squawks a challenge to them and the Karasuno manager jumps about a foot into the air.

"W-w-who's there?" she squeaks.

"Yachi, it's me, Daichi," Sawamura says, breaking his silence, his voice taking on a soothing quality that reminds Kuroo of Sugawara.

"Daichi-san!" Yachi all but wails, sounding close to tears. "Kageyama-kun got really angry and it suddenly went all dark but he can't stop it."

Sawamura reaches out to pat her on the shoulder, hurriedly retracting his hand when the crow snaps at him. "Do you know where Kageyama is?"

"He's over on the other side," Hinata answers abruptly, his mouth turned down in a frown that seems almost unnatural on his face.

Sawamura nods like he understands perfectly where Kageyama is from Hinata's vague directions. "Alright then. Yachi, you stay with Hinata where it's bright. I'll go find Kageyama and talk him out of it."

Yachi nods back frantically, the sparrows on her shoulders chirping in protest when the movement nearly dislodges them. Seemingly satisfied, Sawamura moves across the gymnasium, pulling Kuroo along.

"Kageyama?" he calls out.

"Daichi-san." A figure peels itself away from the darkness to their left, responding to Sawamura.

Even with his night sight, Kuroo had not seen him coming and he is not sure whether he or Sawamura had startled worse when he appeared. Kageyama stares straight at the both of them and Kuroo gets the sense that he can see them through the darkness he created.

"Kageyama, you're causing a blackout throughout the whole school," Sawamura tells him, recovering his cool in a remarkably short time.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why but I can't control it this time," Kageyama replies, oddly muted.

"Tell me what happened."

Sawamura takes a half-step in Kuroo's direction and grabs him by the arm, pulling him down to whisper in his ear, "Sorry, but could you do me a favour and get Suga for me? I'm not sure I can handle this on my own."

"Sugawara?" Kuroo murmurs back. "He's in the building you were in, right?"

"Yeah. I probably shouldn't have left him behind like that but I panicked."

Kuroo squeezes Sawamura's hand lightly before letting go of him. "Things like that happen."

He is about to leave when Sawamura suddenly pulls him back again, his nose accidentally bumping against the side of Kuroo's head as he leans up to say, "Thank you."

Then Sawamura draws back, returning to Kageyama and leaving Kuroo standing there, his skin prickling in the absence of Sawamura's touch.

---

Their next training camp is held at Shinzen, which is where Kuroo begins his short-lived career as a gardener. He ropes off the flowers that the managers don't manage to clear by the evening, better equipped with proper supplies he had bought during the break in between camps. There aren't that many of them this time, as if Sawamura is being extra cautious about the ground he walks on.

It all comes to an end one night when Bokuto hunts him down for practice and finds him crouched over the latest patch of flowers.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Bokuto asks, peering over Kuroo's shoulder. "Aren't those the flowers Sawamura has been leaving behind? They were all over my school the previous time."

"Mmhm," Kuroo answers noncommittally as he hammers stakes into the ground.

"What are you doing?" Bokuto squats down beside him, watching his movements intently.

"Protecting the environment."

"Wait, so were you the one who used up all the chopsticks in my school to do this?"

"It depends."

"I bet it was you." Bokuto eyes him suspiciously. "Well, the administration wasn't happy about that. Said that it was desecrating school property or something."

"So what did they do with it?"

"They removed it."

Kuroo's hand stills. "And what happened to the flowers?"

"Our teacher explained that it was part of a student's gift. So they aren't cancelling the joint trainings, but they removed the flowers."

"Shit." Now he feels like everything he did during those nights was for nothing.

"Oh, but they didn't kill them though. Just relocated them. Some of the teachers said that they were too pretty to waste."

Kuroo scowls and reaches out to smack Bokuto. "Say these things earlier."

Bokuto hops out of range, pulling a face at him. "Gotcha. Although, I don't understand why you're so concerned about the flowers. Sure, they're pretty but why are you concerned?"

"What are you trying to get at?" Kuroo narrows his eyes at him.

"I mean, shouldn't this be Sawamura's problem? He's the one sprouting flowers left and right."

"Sawamura's busy."

"And so are you. With blocking practice," Bokuto says pointedly. "Specifically, blocking my spikes practice. Also known as being blown away by my extraordinary spikes practice."

Kuroo pushes at Bokuto's shoulder. "Ugh, I get it. I'll go over after I'm done with this. Yaku's in charge of Lev today so I'll have the time."

That keeps Bokuto quiet for a moment before he starts talking again, "You know, Shinzen's just going to do the same thing to your flower fence once you leave."

There are rare times when Bokuto makes way too much sense and now is shaping up to be one of them. Kuroo falters, the twine slipping in between his fingers and going loose around the stakes. "Do you really think so?"

"Duh." Bokuto shifts in place, buzzing with restless energy. "Why don't you do what the managers do and put them in bottles? Seems less troublesome that way."

"But it'll kill the flowers," Kuroo objects.

"They'll get crushed if you leave them here anyway." Bokuto gestures around them. "Have you seen the number of guys running around here?"

"Fine." Kuroo throws his hands up in exasperation and straightens up into a standing position. He tugs at the twine, pulling it taut before knotting it around the last stake with a sense of finality. In their newly made enclosure, the flowers sway in the breeze, blissfully oblivious. "This is the only one I'll do this time, okay?"

He shoves the rest of the gardening supplies into his bag, frustration in every line of his movements. Beside him, Bokuto bounces to his feet, fixing him with a curious look.

"Seriously, why do you care so much about the flowers? I've known you since we were first years but I never knew you felt so strongly about them."

"What are you talking about? I have always been deeply concerned for the environment."

That earns him an incredulous look from Bokuto, but Kuroo doesn't wait for his accompanying remark, leaving him and the flower patch behind in long, purposeful strides.

It must suck to be Sawamura, having to feel like this every time he left the flowers behind, not knowing if they would survive on their own or get trampled underfoot by passerbys. Gifts often manifested at an early stage and he can't imagine having to live with this dull, ugly feeling welling up in him all this time. It is no wonder why Sawamura never wants to talk about it, planting his feet solidly where the flowers won't grow and turning his eyes away from the flowers that had already pushed their way up from the ground.

In the near dark, he catches sight of a narrow path of flowers, leading to the back of the school and stretching out into woods. They hadn't been there before, which must mean that Sawamura had only passed through recently. He drops his bag against a wall, ignoring Bokuto's anguished cry of "Bro, no, that's the wrong way to blocking practice!" as he sets out along the path as if compelled to follow it.

---

He finds Sawamura at the end of it all, which, in retrospect, is not entirely surprising. What surprises Kuroo is the sheer number of flowers he suddenly finds himself knee-deep in, fanning out in circular waves with Sawamura at the centre of it all. He sits on the grass amidst the flowers, his mouth moving as he allows them to brush lovingly against his fingers, their faces turned up towards him. There is an almost wistful look on his face as some of the more enthusiastic flowers curl around his forearms.

Gifts have always had magical origins, but this scene here with Sawamura feels like so much more. Kuroo has never seen him look so at ease with the flowers of his own making and it is a good look on him, so much better than the forced, shuttered expression he usually wears. He has always thought of Sawamura as a sunlight sort of person, tan skin and sun-warmed brown eyes that spoke of hours spent under daylight, but the moonlight is kind to Sawamura as well, bathing him in a soft glow that gives him a quiet, ethereal quality as he sits there amongst the flowers.

It makes Kuroo feel like he shouldn't be here, barging in on all of this just because he was curious.

He takes a cautious step backwards, weaving around the tall stalks growing around him, his eyes fixed on Sawamura, willing him not to notice as he retreats. It doesn't work, even though Kuroo is sure he hadn't made a sound, and Sawamura snaps his head up, startled.

"Suga?" he calls out, uncertainty in the rise of his voice.

Kuroo freezes in place, a dozen different decisions running through his head in the split-second it takes for the rest of his body to catch up. He has always prided himself for his sharp wit and efficient decision-making skills, all of which had been extraordinarily useful in Nekoma's victories. It doesn't fail him now, selecting the best possible course of action he should take in this situation.

He runs.

---

When Kuroo returns home after the weeks of training camp, he greets his mother with a bag of laundry and an armful of flowers, the latter of which is wrapped in newspaper and threatening to spill out of his grip. She blinks and he gives her his best winning smile.

"Weren't you supposed to be playing volleyball during this camp of yours?" she remarks, relieving him of the flowers before they decide to make a break for freedom.

"I was." He follows her inside and drops his laundry off beside the washing machine. His bag goes onto the floor as he sits at the dining table and watches her lay out the flowers on its surface.

On the last day of camp, he had run into the Karasuno manager—Shimizu, was it?—as she went around the school with a pair of shears in hand, trimming the last of the flowers before Karasuno left for Miyagi. She was going to take them back with her, she told him when he asked. Their local flower shop was always happy to take in more flowers.

The container at her feet had been brimming with flowers by then, an explosion of sunset colours of reds, pinks, and yellows. He had picked up a stalk, rolling it in his fingers curiously as he looked at its delicate yellow petals, and Shimizu had asked him, politely, if wanted to keep some.

That same flower lies amongst the others on his dining table now, his mother sorting through them with deft fingers.

"How did you get so many different varieties?" his mother wonders, breaking him out of his reverie.

"It was part of someone's gift during camp," he tells her. "Someone from Karasuno."

"Is that the school from Miyagi?"

Kuroo hums in affirmation, a hand creeping towards the flowers. His fingers brush against a pretty pink one, its petals curved outwards from the centre.

"That's an azalea," his mother informs him, following the line of her son's inquisitive arm.

He touches the stalk next to the azalea, a startlingly pink and white hybrid with petals like the ruffles of a dress. "What about this one?"

"That's a carnation."

His hand falls onto the first flower he had picked up, a pale yellow with wide petals.

"Really, Tetsu," his mother chides laughingly, "you should be able to recognise at least some of these flowers. That's a camellia."

Kuroo sits back, pulling away from the colourful spread on the table. "I never had to learn their names before."

"You should. You might be able to impress girls better if you knew all about flowers."

"Mom, are you trying to say that your son isn't charming enough as he is?"

"He could definitely use some work." She eyes him critically. "No self-respecting person knows nothing about flowers."

"I know about roses," Kuroo says defensively. There had been none of those among Sawamura's flowers as far as he could tell.

"That's all?" She shoots him an unimpressed look, her expression a perfect mirror of Kuroo's at his best. "You're hopeless. The person with this flower gift is a friend of yours, aren't they? You should at least learn the names of their flowers."

He isn't sure if Sawamura would consider him a friend but he has to admit that what his mother says makes a lot of sense. Referring to them as nothing but flowers all the time seemed a bit rude, considering that there were so many different kinds of them, all distinct from each other. Besides, maybe if he knew more about flowers, Sawamura might be more willing to talk to him the next time they met.

---

"So," Kuroo says to Kenma on a bright and sunny day spent tucked under the shade of Kenma's back porch, "what do you think Karasuno is doing now?"

"Shouyou has tests coming up," Kenma answers, his eyes fixed on his handheld console.

"Again? Their school sure is working them hard."

"Mm."

Kuroo leans back, listening to the digital grunts and sword clashes coming from Kenma's game for a moment before he asks again, "What do you think the rest of them are doing?"

"Probably tests." Kenma mashes the buttons with remarkable speed, which is made even scarier by the blank look of concentration on his face. "Why don't you ask the captain?"

"I didn't manage to get his number." Kuroo sighs.

"Mm."

"Do you think if I got his number he would reply to my mails?"

"He might think it's spam." A victorious tune trumpets from Kenma's game and Kenma spares him a short glance during the loading screen that follows. "Besides, you would have to have his number in the first place."

"Kenma," Kuroo starts, with utmost sincerity.

Kenma returns his attention to his game. "That would be rude. I'm sure he has his reasons for not giving his number to you."

"I didn't ask."

The game freezes on a pause screen and Kenma blinks at Kuroo, who smiles back wryly. "That's unusual, for you."

"I know."

"Why?"

"I don't know." Kuroo props his chin on one hand, blowing his fringe away from his face. It flutters before settling against his right eye, obscuring some of his vision. Maybe he should get a haircut. "I think I was scared of talking to him."

Kenma nearly drops his console. It's the most expression Kuroo has seen him show in a while and he watches impassively as Kenma fumbles to keep it in his grasp.

"I think I'm scared of talking to you now," Kenma mutters once his console is secure in his hands. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Mm."

"Kuroo."

"Kenma."

Kenma flicks the pause button and the screen comes to life again. "Sounds like you're fine."

He isn't really, but Kuroo lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug anyway. In the days after camp, the flowers he adopted had filled his house, sprawling over tabletops or hanging from the windows. Kenma shuns his house now, calling them overwhelming, but Kuroo thinks it's fine. It reminds him of camp, with flowers all over the place and Sawamura never far from them.

The last time he had met Sawamura, it was at Karasuno's send-off with the solid bitumen of the carpark under their feet. He had clasped Sawamura's hand and without the flowers to distract him, Kuroo had made the mistake of redirecting his attention onto Sawamura just as he smiled, a honest-to-good, genuine smile, his lips curving up nicely and the evening light warming the brown in his eyes. And in that moment, Kuroo's brain had stuttered to a stop.

He had forgot to ask for Sawamura's number after that, the thought only coming to him long after the bus carrying Karasuno had driven off.

"Kenma," he tries again, running through all the possible forms of bribery that might work on Kenma.

"I won't get you his number," Kenma shoots him down, not taking his eyes off his game as he inches his phone away from Kuroo. "But I have a suggestion."

"I'm listening."

"Ask Sawamura yourself. You remember what Fukunaga's gift is, don't you?"

"I do." Kuroo straightens up from his slouch as realisation dawns on him. "Kenma, you're a genius."

"Mm," is all the reply he gets as Kenma tunes him out in favour of his game.

---

The portal spits Kuroo out onto the dirt and he hears a quiet "Sorry." tossed out behind him before it dissolves, the black matter—or not matter?—collapsing into nothingness.

His phone lights up and he sees "8.23am" flash on the screen under Fukunaga's name, marking the next time the portal would reappear to take him back to Tokyo, exactly twelve hours after the current time. A second message pushes Fukunaga's message to the bottom, this time from Kenma, reading, "Got your school stuff from your mom. Will be in your locker." and immediately after that, "did it work".

Kuroo raises his head, finally taking in his surroundings. The first thing he notices is that there are flowers, a lot of them, which he takes to be a good sign. The second thing he notices is that Sawamura is looking back at him, shock and confusion written all over his face like he can't decide what to make of this sudden development, which Kuroo takes to be an even better sign.

"nailed it" he sends to Kenma.

"What— Kuroo?" Sawamura approaches him warily, tension in his every movement.

"Hi, Sawamura." Kuroo lifts a hand in a salute, trying to figure out if his body would let him stand up.

"What are you doing here?"

"Ah." He tries to sit up and his vision swims before him, prompting him to lie down again. "First, could you tell me where am I?"

"You're in my backyard," Sawamura says tersely.

"I was in the vicinity and wanted to say hi?"

Sawamura narrows his eyes at him. "This is Miyagi. You live in Tokyo. That's miles away."

"You're exaggerating."

"No," Sawamura says carefully, "I'm not. Kuroo, what the hell is going on?"

The dizziness is gone and Kuroo sits up slowly, keeping an eye on Sawamura's reactions and trying to gauge just how much could he get away with before Sawamura blew up at him. Kuroo has seen the aftereffects of Sawamura's temper on the Karasuno juniors. While it is impressive, he doesn't really want to be on the receiving end of that.

"Well, you see, my teammate has a teleportation gift," he explains, "and he accidentally activated it and I just happened to end up here."

That is half a lie, but Sawamura doesn't need to know about all the flowers he carted from his house to Fukunaga's to help him triangulate Sawamura's approximate location. In fact, he is surprised at how well it worked.

"What a coincidence." Sawamura doesn't buy it, but he also hasn't tried to kick Kuroo out of his backyard yet, which means that Kuroo has to be doing something right.

"Truly remarkable," Kuroo agrees.

"Do you want to, uh, leave?"

"I can't. Not for the next twelve hours. Fukunaga's portal has a limit."

"The trains are still running."

"I don't have any money on me now."

Sawamura's gaze burns into him, all emotion wiped clean off his face, and Kuroo very deliberately tries not to flinch. It's like their first meeting all over again, when they were still trying to figure each other out and inadvertently fell into an impromptu game of "loser blinks first" over a handshake. Then Sawamura turns away, breaking the deadlock between them, and Kuroo takes the opportunity to breathe again.

"Don't move," Sawamura tells him as he disappears into the house.

Kuroo checks his phone for new messages—none, not even from Kenma—then stands, stretching leisurely as he takes in the sight of Sawamura's backyard.

He doesn't think he has ever seen so many flowers crammed into a single space before. It looks nothing like the individual paths that had sprouted during camp. Sawamura's backyard is a glorious, sprawling mass of flowers, packed tight against the garden walls and leading right up to the back porch of his house. It is a miracle that Kuroo hadn't crushed some of them falling from the portal.

Now that he takes a closer look, he realises that he is standing on a winding path, the only part of the ground clear of flowers. He steps on the dirt under him curiously, wondering what makes it so different from the rest of the backyard.

"Okay, you can stay." Sawamura returns. He's barefooted, Kuroo realises, as he steps down into the backyard.

Flowers don't burst out of the ground at his touch, but the flowers on either side of the path reach out eagerly towards him and Kuroo stares. Sawamura stops in front of him and Kuroo wrenches his eyes away from the flowers to look Sawamura in the face.

"I like your, um..." There is a flower by their feet with raspberry ripple streaks down long, delicately-tipped petals—he knows this flower. "Amaryllises."

Sawamura looks taken aback, glancing down as if to check that it was really an amaryllis. "Thanks? Do you want to come in?"

"No, I think I'll stay out here for a while longer," Kuroo says breezily. "Admire the flowers and all."

"You know, I've been wanting to ask you this since camp," Sawamura asks haltingly, like he's trying to figure out how to phrase his question, "but do you like flowers?"

"I have always been all about environmentalism," Kuroo answers seriously.

He just knows that everything he says will come back to bite him in the ass one day, like laser-guided karma. But he can't stop. It's like a coping mechanism against the waves of nervousness surging against his stomach.

"I see." Sawamura raises an eyebrow at him.

Kuroo has absolute faith in Sawamura to not believe everything that comes out of his mouth, just like Kenma and everyone else who has known him for an extended period of time. It is part of the reason why he was so drawn towards him in the first place, once he figured out it wasn't just the flowers.

"Sawamura," he blurts out, before he realises that his mouth has gotten a running start before his brain. "Can I have your number?"

Sawamura pauses, bemused. "Did you come all the way to Miyagi just to ask for my phone number?"

"Of course not." Kuroo gestures broadly at nothing in particular. "I came to Miyagi to look at your amaryllises. They're lovely."

Sawamura snorts softly, but he takes Kuroo's phone from his hand, the screen illuminating his face as he keys in his number. When Sawamura returns his phone, his face looks determinedly composed and as Kuroo takes it from him, he sees a new message from Kenma at the top of his screen that reads, "did you get his number".

---

"Sometimes I think your friend should stop letting you use his gift for free," Sawamura remarks as soon as Kuroo steps out of Tokyo and into Sawamura's backyard.

"But then I wouldn't be able to come visit you," Kuroo says reasonably. "Miyagi is a long way away."

"You could always cut down on your visits."

"I could start paying him instead."

Sawamura considers this for a moment. "Nah, I think it's the ethics of it."

Kuroo joins him on the porch, dropping his bag down beside him and unearthing a sheaf of papers from inside it. "What are we doing today? Math? Japanese? Literature?"

Sawamura looks at the papers in his hands, glancing over at Kuroo's periodically to compare them. "I don't get how you keep scoring so well in literature."

"I could say the same for you and math. That's the devil's subject. I always suspected there was something off about you, Sawamura."

"It's logical," Sawamura retorts.

"So you say."

They decide on history first after coming to the mutual agreement that both need serious help in that department. Sawamura arranges his notes in a semi-circle in front of them and Kuroo flips through both their test papers to pick out questions.

The afternoon is warm, even with autumn closing in on them, and it is quiet out here in the countryside, where Kuroo trades the constant roar of vehicles for the insistent chirping of cicadas. Sawamura's voice is a low hum that permeates through the calm settled over them like a heavy blanket. It's something that Kuroo thinks he could get used to in the long run.

The evening finds them in the same spot, only that Kuroo is flat on his stomach, his head lolling on an outstretched arm as he tries to absorb information from his notes. Beside him, Sawamura squints down at the study guide on his lap before throwing his head back in frustration.

"I can't read this anymore. It's getting too dark."

Kuroo raises his head slightly to look over at Sawamura. "I can."

"Don't get started," Sawamura says tartly, shutting the study guide with a snap.

That signals the start of a much needed break and Kuroo shuffles his notes into some semblance of order before stretching up into a sitting position. Beside him, Sawamura has gone horizontal on the cool wood of the floor, his eyes shut and his arms thrown up above his head as if in surrender. Kuroo watches the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he eases into relaxation before deciding to leave him be, stepping out into the backyard instead.

He manoeuvres his way out of the maze of flowers, emerging onto the path that cuts through the backyard. In all the days he has been here, he has yet to see a single flower sprout on this path, even though it looks no different from the ground on either side of it. He crouches down, digging a hand into the soft soil and holding it up to eye level.

"Sawamura."

There is a faint reply noise from the porch that Kuroo takes to mean Sawamura is listening.

"What is this path made of?"

"The same thing the rest of the garden is made of: soil."

Kuroo lets the soil in his hand trickle back onto the path. "Then why don't the flowers grow here?"

"Because I asked them not to."

"You can talk to them?"

"If you're asking if I can talk to them like Yachi talks to birds, no. But I can understand them and they can understand me."

Kuroo hums thoughtfully. "Then why don't you ask them not to grow while you're walking outside?"

"It doesn't work that way."

"Why not?"

There is silence from the porch. Kuroo pads back through the flowers to it and finds Sawamura still flat on his back, but with his eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. He settles down beside him, splaying his fingers out on the floor so that they barely brush against Sawamura's side.

"Why not?" he asks again, gazing down at Sawamura.

Sawamura's eyes flicker towards him before returning back to the same spot on the ceiling. "It's a compromise. They get the rest of the backyard if they leave a path for us to walk on."

"Can't you make the same compromise with them while you're outside?"

"It gets complicated outside. They want to grow and I can't just ask them to wait until I find a place for them to. They get anxious."

"But wouldn't it be better if they waited until they could grow in a safe place, instead of growing all over the place and getting trampled on?" Kuroo says, acutely aware of how he was entering dangerous territory with this conversation. He doesn't want Sawamura to shut down on him like he did the last few times they talked about his gift.

"You can't reason with flowers." Sawamura exhales deeply. "They just happen."

Kuroo lets that sit in the air between them for a while, watching Sawamura out of the corner of his eye. He thinks he wants to touch him, now that Sawamura is warm and drowsy with an afternoon's worth of studying, his eyelids slowly slipping shut again as sleep tugs at him. But he doesn't, pulling himself back into the conversation at hand and away from the soft curve of Sawamura's mouth, parted slightly as he breathes.

"Sawamura," Kuroo says, hoping Sawamura doesn't catch the way his voice breaks on the last syllable, "do you like your gift?"

He doesn't get an answer right away and Kuroo leans down to check if Sawamura had fallen asleep during the brief lull in conversation.

"I don't know, do you like your gift?" Sawamura counters, keeping his eyes closed. Kuroo startles back, catching himself in time before Sawamura notices the sudden movement.

"I definitely do, but I asked you first."

"I don't feel anything in particular about my gift," Sawamura says calmly and Kuroo doesn't believe him at all.

"I think you like the flowers. I mean, they seem to like you," Kuroo says lightly, watching for a reaction.

"That's just something that happens. It's part of the gift."

"Your whole garden isn't something that just 'happens'. Look at all the flowers, they're happy and it's beautiful."

"Kuroo," Sawamura says, the faintest warning in his voice.

"You look happy to be around the flowers too. They suit you."

Sawamura opens his eyes to level a disbelieving look his way. "The flowers suit me."

Shit, he said too much. "I mean, uh, you always struck me as a nature sort of person."

"Well, I don't think my love for the environment can match up to yours, but I do have a certain respect for it." There is a wry edge to Sawamura's words that makes Kuroo's face burn. "But the thing about nature is that natural things die too easily. Like the flowers."

"You shouldn't let that stop you from caring though," Kuroo presses on. "Or rather, you still care too much about them, don't you?"

Sawamura falters, the small smile on his face fading away, but there are things Kuroo has always wanted to say to him after watching him and the flowers all through camp. There are things he wants to do too, like moving his hand close enough to Sawamura's so that he can hook their fingers together. But he doesn't do that, not when the things he wants to say takes priority over the things he wants to do.

He keeps his hand there, curled up by Sawamura's side, close enough to feel his body heat as he picks out the words he wants to use. "I know the flowers come from your gift, but you shouldn't have to take full responsibility for each and every single one of them. You have to learn to let go, Sawamura. Some will die, but some will also live until the end of their natural lifespan. They'll bloom and they'll wither, like all flowers do, and that would have been possible because of your gift."

"You don't understand." Sawamura turns his face away, something like resignation dragging at his movements.

"I don't," Kuroo concedes, "and I can't tell you what to feel about your gift or your flowers. But that's just my opinion."

He unfolds his legs, pushing himself up onto his feet and turning to face the inside of Sawamura's house. There is a thick floral scent in the air as always, blown into the house by the evening breeze, and somewhere under all of that he smells dinner, a delicious aroma coming from deep within the house. He nudges Sawamura's leg with a toe.

"Come on, let's go eat. We've got more studying to do later."

---

The next morning, Sawamura sees him out into his own backyard as they wait for Fukunaga's portal to appear. It's too early for the start of school, or morning practice even, and Sawamura is still in the clothes he slept in while Kuroo is dressed and ready to go. It's supremely unfair, but Kuroo thinks he probably brought this on himself. He could have been sleeping in his own bed and going to school from his own house, instead of spending the night camped out on Sawamura's floor and travelling the greater distance from Fukunaga's house to school.

It probably isn't fair to Fukunaga either, Kuroo thinks guiltily. Sawamura had a point when he brought that up yesterday.

The air shudders and the hair on the back of Kuroo's neck stands as the space before them distorts, pulling apart to reveal a vaguely circular-shaped, swirling mass of darkness. Kuroo's phone chimes and he glances down to check the text from Fukunaga.

"Well then," Kuroo says grandly, pocketing his phone, "I'll see you around, Sawamura."

He wonders whether he should tell Sawamura about the awful bedhead he's sporting, his shorter hair ruffled badly enough to rival Kuroo's own. The sun is out, but Sawamura stays within the shade of the porch, where Kuroo can see the shadows under his eyes clearly. But his eyes are a clear, steady brown as he looks at Kuroo, his head tilted up to meet Kuroo's gaze.

"See you," Sawamura echoes, his voice dry with sleep. He takes a tiny step forward and Kuroo watches the way the sunlight spills across his face and the flowers underfoot prick up at his presence.

There is an ache in his chest as he drinks in the sight before him. Sawamura doesn't know what he does to Kuroo sometimes, how many times he's left him breathless just by being here before him. It's never really been about the flowers, he's been slowly coming to that realisation, but about Sawamura all along.

As he stands there unmoving, Sawamura furrows his eyebrows at him, walking off the edge of the porch to place both hands squarely on his shoulders and turn him around. He shoves insistently at Kuroo's back to get him to the portal until Kuroo's legs remember how to move again.

"Don't keep Fukunaga waiting," Sawamura reproaches as Kuroo weighs the pros and cons of telling Sawamura just how much he feels for him there and then.

As articulate as he usually is, the right words die somewhere on their way to his mouth and what comes out instead is a simple, "Yeah."

Kuroo rushes through the portal before his brain comes up with new ways to malfunction on him, ducking his head down so that Sawamura doesn't catch sight of the growing mortification on his face.

"Kuroo," Sawamura's voice calls him back just as he puts a foot through the portal. But it's too late for him turn back as Sawamura continues, "thanks for everything."

Kuroo twists his neck back in vain as the portal swallows him up and deposits him on the floor of Fukunaga's room, where he lies there with his limbs flung out all around him. As Fukunaga comes over to peer down at him, Kuroo throws a forearm over his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tries to suppress the heat rising to his face.

---

The last time he visits Sawamura, he is distracted, his eyes drawn towards Sawamura more than the painstakingly handwritten notes in his hand.

The flowers closest to the house have wound themselves around Sawamura's legs, rooting him to the ground as he reads from his notes. When Kuroo shifts a curious foot closer, the tiny violets shrink away from him, leaving behind a spray of white flowers he doesn't recognise against the tan skin of Sawamura's leg. Amused, he moves his foot closer, trying to see if the white flowers would flee too.

"Stop bullying them," Sawamura says, noticing that Kuroo has been inching closer to him with one foot stretched out and almost touching him.

"I'm not." Kuroo retreats his foot.

The violets come back, twining their way around Sawamura's ankles cautiously, and Sawamura gives him a flat look that says it's his fault.

"What will happen to them during winter?" Kuroo asks, fascinated as always by the movement of the flowers.

"Not all of them can make it through winter, even with my gift, so they'll wilt and come back during spring. That's beyond my control."

"Spring, huh?" Kuroo hums thoughtfully. "You'll be busy with the Spring High then."

"And the university entrance exams," Sawamura reminds him.

"And the university entrance exams," Kuroo agrees. He drops his notes down beside him, abandoning all pretence of studying. "You know, Sawamura, this will be the last time I'll be here for a long time."

"I am aware," Sawamura replies, his attention back on his own notes and not on Kuroo.

"A very long time," Kuroo emphasises.

"A couple of months was it?"

"And you still haven't told me which universities you'll be applying for."

"I haven't decided."

Kuroo scoffs. "Knowing you, you probably have a thirty year plan all laid out in your head or something. There's no way you haven't decided yet."

"That's just how it is." Sawamura shrugs.

"So cold, Sawamura," Kuroo teases, leaning in close. "If you're not going to tell me anything, don't I at least get a goodbye kiss before leaving?"

He leans back just as quick as he had leaned in, fully expecting Sawamura to shove him out of the way. What he isn't expecting is Sawamura's hand at the collar of his shirt, pulling him not away, but towards Sawamura, who is finally looking back at him with a determined look in his eye.

Sawamura is suddenly too close and there is a faint pressure against his lips. Then it's gone and Sawamura is back in his own space, but the notes he had been reading are slipping out of his hands and spreading across the ground at their feet.

"Why did you kiss me?" Kuroo asks, stupidly dazed, like that wasn't what he wanted to do in forever.

"Because you asked," Sawamura replies, flushing darkly as if he's only just realising what he did.

"I didn't really mean—" Kuroo starts.

"I know," Sawamura cuts him off, a bit too loudly. He's looking at anything but Kuroo as he repeats, softer, "I know that."

"Is that a confession?" Now that his brain has short-circuited, his emotions are taking the opportunity to seize control of his body, to make his feelings known to the world, which at the moment has narrowed down to nothing more than this boy sitting beside him. "Did you know that I like you, Sawamura? I like you a lot."

"No, yes, I don't know," Sawamura fumbles, sounding just as eloquent as Kuroo. Then his eyes flash as he processes the rest of what Kuroo just said and he's looking at Kuroo again, his eyes wide. "Wait, what?"

"Can we," Kuroo says breathlessly, his words coming out in a rush. "Can we do that again? You know, only if you're absolutely okay with it."

"I kissed you first, didn't I?" Sawamura says and it's the only logical thing to come out this exchange so far.

It makes so much sense that Kuroo listens, leaning down so that he can press his lips to the curve of Sawamura's mouth carefully, cradling the sharp cut of his jaw in reverent hands. There is a light tug on the back of his shirt and fingers dance on the inside of his arm like Sawamura isn't quite sure where to put his hands. Then Sawamura slants his head against him, his hands settling decisively on Kuroo's back, pulling him closer. Kuroo follows, sinking deeper into Sawamura's touch, his heart beating so loud that he thinks Sawamura is sure to hear it.

---

"Don't come back until you get into a decent university. And don't bother Fukunaga anymore. Just take the damn train next time."

"Alright." Right now, he thinks Sawamura could ask anything of him and he would be alright with that. He has one of Sawamura's hands in his, a last lingering point of contact after they broke apart, and he can't stop stealing glances at their linked hands, trying to burn the sensation of Sawamura's skin against his into his mind.

Right on time, the air before them shimmers, heralding the arrival of Fukunaga's portal and Kuroo detaches himself from Sawamura reluctantly. Before he goes, he looks back at Sawamura and the porch and the flowers surrounding all of them, swaying in the wind like they're waving goodbye to him.

"Keep in touch, Sawamura," he says with a quirk of his lips.

Sawamura grins, the same cat grin that Kuroo has used on him far too many times, which says something about how long he's spent in Kuroo's company. "I will."

---

At the end of spring, Kuroo graduates from Nekoma High, but not from the Nekoma Volleyball Club, sticking around for practices until Kenma tells him that they're going to be fine even without him hovering around and besides, doesn't he have university to prepare for?

Kenma has a point, which is why Kuroo is standing bright and early outside the gates of his new university. It is a very impressive campus, towering tall over him and taking up a good deal of land space, but Kuroo's attention is fixed on the ground, standing stock-still as the other students mill about him on their way in.

Leading through the gates is a road of flowers, like a calling card that is all too familiar, telling him who he'll find at the end of it all. Just like before, it compels him to follow and Kuroo's feet are skidding against the earth as he breaks into a run.

---

"If you don't want to cross that, I could just carry you, Daichi. Of course, that would defeat the whole purpose of us coming here."

Kuroo slams the car door behind him, grinning broadly at Daichi as he takes in the sea of grass before them, apprehension in the set of his jaw. They are back in Miyagi after an entire year in Tokyo, where Kuroo had followed Daichi around as he reunited with friends, family, and the Karasuno team that he remembers vividly. Karasuno hasn't changed, apart from the fresh first year faces he sees amongst their numbers. The now second and third years had recognised him as he stepped out from behind Daichi and it had been fun to watch the variety of reactions to his presence.

After all of that, Kuroo had whisked Daichi away and drove them out to the edges of his hometown in a borrowed car. It had been a challenge, trying to make preparations without Daichi catching on, but Kuroo thinks that it was all worth it, if only for the look on Daichi's face now.

"Like you could. I'm pretty heavy," Daichi retorts, but his eyes are wide as he looks out at the endless expense of grass, his feet hovering just on the edge of the road.

Kuroo surges forward, hooking his arms under the back of Daichi's legs and lifting him up in the air. His shoulder presses into Daichi's midsection and he feels hands scrabble against his back, trying to find purchase before Kuroo overbalances and squashes them both.

In Kuroo's defence, he gets at least a few steps in before his legs give in and he drops to the ground, taking Daichi with him as he does. Daichi is laughing, even though somewhere along the way he had ended up under Kuroo with his back pressed into the earth and flowers spreading out around him, eagerly pushing their way out of the soil to meet him.

In the privacy of his head, Kuroo allows himself to be disgustingly romantic as he gazes down at Daichi and thinks about how beautiful he is, with grass in his hair and blue forget-me-nots blooming from between his fingers like bits of sky in his grasp. He is so in love and he thinks that he must have been ever since a year ago when he looked into sun-warmed brown eyes and fell towards Daichi like it was gravity.

"You're thinking of something cheesy again, aren't you?" Daichi grins and reaches up, his hands grazing against the back of Kuroo's neck.

"No," Kuroo says too quickly and props himself up, ready to flee before his embarrassment catches up with him and his heart gives up on him right here in Daichi's arms.

But Daichi is a step ahead of him and Kuroo can't escape when Daichi's hands are crossed behind his neck, locking him in place and pulling him down towards him. "If you move you're going to crush the flowers."

He's right and when Kuroo lifts his head to look around them, the sea of grass is gone, buried under the rolling waves of flowers spreading out eagerly from the both of them. As Kuroo watches, the flowers continue to grow, reaching out far into the distance until they become nothing more than a mass of colours blending into each other.

"I, uh, may have underestimated your gift slightly." Kuroo looks back down at Daichi. "This is actually public property."

"I told you this was a bad idea," Daichi says, trying to come off as disapproving and failing when his face is flushed with exhilaration and Kuroo can almost feel the joy radiating off him.

Unlike Miyagi, Tokyo is all concrete and rushing feet and there aren't many places where flowers can grow freely. Daichi had kept flowers in his apartment, as did Kuroo, but there is just something different between the pots that lined their windows and the sprawling freedom of Sawamura's backyard. He sees it now as the field grows overrun with flowers, some that he recognises and some that he doesn't. He'll have to ask Sawamura about those later.

"How are we going to get through all of this later?" Kuroo muses. Their path back to the car is blocked, as is every bit of space surrounding them.

"I'll do something about them later," Daichi says, even as he lets the blue forget-me-nots twine around his fingers.

"I guess I'll just have to stay with you then." Kuroo rests his weight on Daichi, his hair brushing against Daichi's forehead. "I can't go around destroying the environment."

He feels Daichi's laughter against his lips as he sinks down further to meet him, guided by the pull of Daichi's arms, and anchored to him by the flowers that reach out of the earth from under his hands.