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The waves hit his feet like a sheet of ice, but the sudden chill does not cause Kuroo to shiver.
"It's a pretty beach, isn't it? Who'd have thought limbo could be this beautiful."
Oikawa comes to settle close by Kuroo's side, shoulder brushing against Kuroo's arm, his slight warmth a counterpoint to the sea's unforgivingly cold breeze. He draws indiscriminate patterns on the sand with his big toe, idly, and Kuroo's eyes choose to follow curiously as it traces half-formed curves and squiggles like a mathematical formula across a textbook. It's a habit Kuroo has cultivated as a dreamsharing foreman: a keen sense of observation and to always keep his eyes open deep below-- every time.
(Better to be alert than eternally trapped here, after all.)
Gulls circle overhead, becoming quick darting lines against the baby blue stretch of the skies. Intermittently, the rise of a whale's tail breaks the distant horizon, sending gushes of white foam and seawater into the air before sinking into the abyss again, akin to a spoon slipping underneath the soup in a bowl. If he were to cup a handful of the water shimmering before him and drink, Kuroo wonders whether it would truly taste salty or not; if it would fall short to his memories of the beaches back in Japan, an afterimage that would be faint but not entirely there.
"Yeah, it's great." Kuroo exhales, feeling a weight roll behind his shoulderblades. "But that's not exactly a good thing. It's how it attracts you, makes you want to keep staying here for as long as possible although none of this real. You know as much as I do that limbo can't ever replace the Highball upstairs."
"Well, duh? We're only staying for a bit." Oikawa rolls his eyes and stabs his toe into the sand with a little more force than necessary. "It's not wrong to have a little fun while we're at it!"
These are innocuous words, words that are harmless and solid within their claim to reason, but limbo has proven itself, time and time again, that it only knew how to take, that it would never give back if it could ever help it; Kuroo has not met anything or anyone more selfish, but here they are now-- playing at tourists under the guise of research.
He is just not willing to risk it.
"You're overthinking again," comes an unhelpful quip, but Oikawa's eyes see right through him, recognising the uneasiness beginning to needle at his mind. "Is this all still that scary to you?"
Kuroo blinks, calculating how much he's willing to reveal. "Just a bit, sometimes. And you?"
Oikawa's gaze flickers away suspiciously, but Kuroo isn't going to push it today. He'll handle that when they're actually awake again. "Not really. You know that this is my playground."
A wave comes to lap at their feet once more, partially washing off Oikawa's hard work, and he feels the man shift beside him, hears his annoyed huff. "Well, so much for that," Kuroo remarks, shrugging at the pout that Oikawa shoots towards him. His legs are starting to ache from standing still for so long and he wants to shake out the pins-and-needles starting to tingle under his skin. "Shall we go, then? I wanna get this over with."
His ever thoughtful architect partner of 2 years nods. "To where?"
"To anywhere, really." Any place is possible within the conjuring of their brains, conveniently available at just a snap of their fingers; this is, after all, the only aspect of limbo that it is willing to be generous with. "Your pick this time."
Oikawa looks at him then and his smile is enigmatic. "How kind of you."
"I know." Kuroo grins, letting Oikawa lead the way. "Aren't I always this kind though?"
A cheery, non-committal hum. "What, to me? Well, not all the time~!"
"You lie!"
(When Kuroo glances back at the beach, at all of its weirdness and ethereal quality, it is only then that Oikawa's etchings on the sand become clear to him, spelling out: mr. sandman bring me a dream, make him the cutest i've ever seen.)