34Several days after the 10,000 players were trapped in Sword Art Online, Kenma was moved to a hospital, where he would remain until he and the other players were finally freed. Kuroo paced and fretted, and watched the people transporting his friend like a hawk, then insisted on riding with them to the hospital. He didn't like letting Kenma out of his sight. He knew it was unreasonable. There was absolutely nothing he could do to help his friend now. All he could do was be there. And so he was.
He kept waiting, hoping for some kind of breakthrough. Those first few days, he'd stayed by Kenma's side as much as he was allowed, and when he couldn't do that, he was glued to the news. The nation's computer experts were all trying to fix this massive screw up, and find a way to free the players, but so far, nothing. The hopes of the people who'd wanted a quick solution dwindled. Days turned into a week. And waiting was so damn hard.
Throughout it all, Yaku was there for Kuroo, offering his support. He didn't waver even when Kuroo angrily tried to push him away. And he wasn't the only one. All of Team Nekoma who'd known Kenma, came to the hospital to visit by the end of the first week. Yamamoto came every damn day. Like Kuroo, he'd always taken it upon himself to watch out for Kenma, and try to drag him into the center of the team, to make sure he was always included. No one had ever asked him to or told him to. He'd just always done it. And like Kuroo, he was feeling the burning sting of failure. Yamamoto didn't say much at the hospital. He just stood by with a dark expression. It wasn't until the end of the week that he actually spoke to Kuroo.
"I told Ryu what happened to Kenma."
"Who?" Kuroo asked even though he didn't really care.
"Ryu. From Karasuno. I thought the shorty should know."
That's right, Kuroo remembered belatedly. Kenma was friends with Hinata. He remembered how Kenma had always spoken of his friendship with Hinata with a strange sort of pride. Kuroo thought he was the only one who'd ever picked up on that, and the only one who knew why. Because Hinata had been the first friend Kenma had ever made all on his own, without Kuroo standing by facilitating things. A part of Kenma had probably always wondered if his teammates were only his friends because Kuroo told them to be. Kenma didn't make friends easily, but Hinata had made it easy for him to be friends with, all on his own. That's why Kenma had treasured his friendship with Hinata so much.
Hinata himself showed up the very next day. There was muted fury in his eyes, the happy-go-lucky bounciness that had pretty much defined him gone. But he made a valiant effort at pretending he was okay. He held Kenma's hand and chattered at him, even after being told in no uncertain terms that Kenma couldn't hear him. It wasn't like talking to someone in a coma. His Nerve Gear was intercepting every signal that fired off in his brain. There was zero chance of him hearing what people were saying near him, or feeling that they were holding his hand. Hinata shrugged and did so anyway. His reasoning actually made sense. "I'm not going to act like Kenma's not here."
One week turned into two. Then two into three. A representative from the company that produced Sword Art Online came to speak to Kenma's parents while they were at the hospital, to offer them a settlement. Kuroo wasn't there, but he heard about it after. Kenma's father broke the representative's nose. Kuroo would have tried to murder him.
If he could have, Kuroo would have put his life on hold. He'd have spent just about every waking moment at the hospital. His best friend was there, fighting for his life. His place should have been by his side. But no one would let Kuroo do that. His own parents had to drag him home every night. Kenma's parents chased him out during the day, to make him go to his college classes. During the late afternoon and early evening, when classes were over and it was too early to go to bed, no one bothered him. Yaku showed up then also, more days than he didn't. Yamamoto was there several times every week, after volleyball practice ended. Two weeks turned into three, four, five, then it became hard to keep count. Hinata turned up often on the weekends, often with his foul tempered setter in tow.
Then one day Tsukishima showed up, tagging along with the two of them.
Kuroo frowned at the sight of him in confusion. Tsukishima was one of the last people he expected to see.
"What are you doing here? Have you ever even spoken to Kenma?"
Tsukishima regarded him gravely behind his glasses. "I didn't come here for Kenma. I came here for you."
Kuroo stared at him with confused, slightly vacant eyes.
"You look like hell, by the way," Tsukishima commented.
"Screw you."
"Very mature. You do know that going into a decline yourself isn't going to help your friend at all, right?" said Tsukishima.
"Well what the hell am I supposed to do? What would you do if it was your best friend trapped in a freaking death game?"
"Get a computer science degree," Tsukishima said with certainty that meant he'd given this some thought. The bastard had probably simulated variations on every conversation he could think of having with Kuroo in his mind before making the trip and had come prepared.
"The world's top computer experts are working night and day to fix this mess. You really think a college first year with no computer background is going to succeed where they haven't managed to yet?" demanded Kuroo.
"It's unlikely, I admit," Tsukishima said. "But it beats sitting around doing nothing. And I've never been the sort to put my faith in other people anyway."
They sat in silence for several minutes, watching as Hinata took Kenma's hand, like he did every visit, and started chattering at him.
Finally, Tsukishima broke the silence. "Yaku-san told me what you tried to do."
"That traitor."
"You didn't really think that you'd be able to get into SAO now, even if you did manage to get ahold of a copy, did you?" asked Tsukishima. "You had to have heard that the bastard who did all this locked the server, so no one else could log in."
"It couldn't hurt to try."
"Uh, yeah it could."
"I don't care."
"Of course you don't." Tsukishima sighed and pushed his glasses up higher on his nose with his index finger. "But I can't say with certainty that I wouldn't have tried to follow my best friend if this had happened to him."
The next day, Kuroo switched his major to computer science.
The most heartbreaking part of this whole damn nightmare was watching Kenma's body slowly start to waste away. After two weeks in his virtual reality induced coma, his muscles started to lose their tone. What was visible of his face started to look gaunt and hollow. He was getting all the nutrients he needed through an IV line, but there was no substitute for exercise. As the weeks turned to months, his muscle mass began eroding away, so his limbs grew thinner and thinner. Kenma had never been really buff or anything. He'd never had much in the way of muscles to begin with, and there had always been a little bit of softness to him. But all that started to disappear.
The roots of his hair grew out. There was no way to safely dye them when they were under the Nerve Gear helmet. Slowly, but surely, his hair turned completely black again, as the blonde tips were cut away every so often. And over time, Kenma's skin lost more and more color. His room had a window, so he did get some sunlight, but it seemed that wasn't the only factor that determined the state of his skin.
The news on the situation stayed bleak. Whatever SAO's bastard of a creator had done, he'd made it damn near impossible to undo. They were no closer to freeing the players six months later than they'd been the day they were trapped. And every month the list of casualties grew longer and longer. But thank God, Kenma remained alive. Trapped, but alive.
They were able to learn precious little about what was going on inside of the game, but a few scraps of information were released from time to time. The players were fighting. They weren't just waiting around to be saved. They were trying to clear all 100 floors and free themselves.
It had taken them an entire month to beat the first floor, but after that they began to pull together better and get faster. Two floors were cleared the next month. Three the month after that. Alliances were being forged as the players pooled their strength. The game had been designed so that you couldn't do much on your own.
Kuroo wondered what that meant for Kenma. Was he managing to fit in and make friends? Or had he figured out a way to advance on his own, using that brilliant analytical mind of his?
At first Kuroo hoped it was the first one. But then they learned about something that made Kuroo rethink that. There were players who were actually killing other players in the game. Player Killers, they called them, or red players. Essentially, murderers.
That made Kuroo want to scream. What the hell? They were all trapped in there together, with only one way out, to work together, and there were morons out there going completely crazy and murdering people? And Kenma was trapped in there with them?
Maybe Kenma had the right of it all along. Maybe staying away from people in general was better, because look at how many horrible people there were in the world. Both worlds, real and virtual.
Months turned into a year. And one day Kuroo was stricken to realize that he'd gotten used to Kenma not being around.
Coming soon: even more angst! Kuroo's not happy with himself. But sooner or later he'll have to accept that there's nothing he can do.
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