Gyaru. That was Kozume Kenma's first thought when he first saw you come up to him at the library like you weren't fifteen minutes late.

You were his partner for History class and you were absent during the actual partner assignment—so he never really got to see who you were other than your name—not like he bothered to remember his classmates' face anyway.

"So," Kenma started, albeit quietly, and you had to lean forward to properly hear him. The proximity creating tension to the poor boy as having another person near (especially a girl), was something foreign for him.

But he tried to swallow the thickness in his throat.

He coughed, "If you don't know yet," his words came out slow, steady, "our batch is going to Osaka for a field trip and we have a task in history to take a photo of a local landmark, interview people about it, and create a vlog for our Finals exa—are you listening?"

His eyes narrowed, fingers tapping impatiently against the wooden table. He was too focused on you to the point that he started taking in the details of your appearance.

And Kenma would be lying if he said that you, being pretty, didn't lessen his annoyance towards you. Because it did, absolutely. And Kenma wonders what will happen if he was stuck with you in Osaka for two days.