Kenma/Kuroo, Umbrella
“Oh.”
Kenma stared out the open door of the gym, one foot half-raised as if to step outside -- except he’d been frozen like that for about half a minute, staring into the rain. His phone hung loosely in one hand; the other rested against the wall.
“Whassup?” Yamamoto asked, coming up behind Kenma and peering curiously out the door.
“I forgot my umbrella,” Kenma murmured. Yamamoto laughed, loud and harsh, and Kenma flinched when Yamamoto gave him a friendly whack on the back.
“Just run,” he suggested. Kenma didn’t respond, but the way his jaw tightened conveyed his opinion of that idea quite readily. Yamamoto just laughed at him again and took his own advice, jogging out into the rain with a “Seeya tomorrow, Kenma!” thrown over his shoulder.
Kenma just stood in the doorway, considering his options. He could walk home in the rain. Or run, like Yamamoto’d suggested. But he didn’t particularly want to get wet, not if he didn’t have to. So he could wait until the rain let up. He glanced at the puddles forming in the schoolyard. It looked like the kind of rain that settled in and stayed for a while, not the crashing, quick-burning thunderstorms that happened in the summer. There was no telling how long the rain would go on.
“Lucky for you, I brought my umbrella,” Kuroo’s voice said from behind Kenma, as if he could read Kenma’s mind.
Honestly, such a thing wouldn’t really surprise Kenma at this point.
Kuroo opened the umbrella over the both of them, before Kenma had bothered to answer verbally. The way Kenma tucked himself against Kuroo’s side was answer enough.
“All aboard the Kuroo express,” he announced cheerily, and Kenma rolled his eyes. He didn’t protest, though, when Kuroo wrapped the arm not holding the umbrella around his shoulders.
They were about a block and a half from the school when Kuroo stopped abruptly, and Kenma barely managed to stop before he stepped out of the relative dryness under the umbrella.
“Damn,” Kuroo muttered as he patted his front pocket. “Forgot my keys. Here --” he thrust the umbrella into Kenma’s hands “--take this. I’ll be right back.” And with that, he skipped out into the rain and ran back towards the school.
Kenma stood silently for a few minutes, umbrella in one hand and phone in the other, until Kuroo returned, keys in hand, and ducked back under the umbrella with a triumphant smirk. He shook out his wet hair like a dog and laughed when Kenma hunched his shoulders and turned his face away from the water droplets.
“I would have come back with you,” Kenma said.
“Yeah, I know. I don’t mind the rain, though.”
Kenma fidgeted with the handle of the umbrella and said nothing.