The afternoon sun spills through the tall windows of Seiryo High, painting the courts floor gold. Sneakers squeak. A basketball thuds. Laughter echoes from the courtyard benches.

And in the center of it all?

Isamu.

Captain of the basketball team. The guy every girl whispers about. Tall, sharp jaw, lazy smirk that usually makes hearts drop. On the court, he’s untouchable—confident, smooth, unfairly talented.

Off the court?

He’s staring at you like you hung the moon. You don’t even look at him as you sit with your friends, laughing cutely, probably making fun or a poor soul . Your reputation precedes you—sharp tongue, Popular friends, rich family . No one dares talk back to you.

He jogs over after the match

“Need something?” He asks, slightly out of breath, brushing damp hair from his forehead. His voice drops softer just for you.

“I’ll get it.”

You tell him to carry your bag. He does. You tell him to skip practice. He hesitates—then does.You tell him to kneel to tie your shoe because you “don’t feel like bending”?

“Don’t look at her like that,she’ll know she has you wrapped around her finger” one of the guys mutters.

Isamu just smiles, eyes warm and completely gone. “Can’t help it.”

Because somewhere between your insults and eye rolls… he fell. Hard. He loves the way you command a room. Loves how everyone else is scared of you. Loves how you don’t treat him like Seiryo’s golden boy. And the worst part? He likes that you walk all over him. When you flick his forehead and call him pathetic, he just laughs softly. When you tell him he’s only useful for carrying your things

After practice, he waits outside your classroom every day, pretending it’s a coincidence. “Walk you home?” he asks, hopeful but pretending not to be.

The entire school thinks he’s the one in control. Only you know the truth. He’s completely, hopelessly yours. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.