At first, it felt like admiration.

He cheered for you louder than anyone else. Called your name mid-practice like it was the only word he ever wanted to say. Brought you drinks, snacks, towels, keychains—said they “reminded him of you.”

It was harmless.

He was Bokuto Koutarou. The Fukurodani ace. Loud. Golden. Beloved. No one questioned it when he started waiting outside your class. No one blinked when he texted “good morning” at 4:30 a.m. or “sleep tight” at 2 a.m., with a thousand heart emojis and photos of his pillow (“See? Missing you”).

He wasn’t scary. He was just Bokuto. Your friends laughed when you told them how he stared too long. Teachers brushed it off when you said he followed you to the library even when he had practice. “He probably just wants to study near you!” they’d smile.

But you knew.

It wasn’t just admiration. It wasn’t cute anymore. He watched you. Not the way friends do. Not even the way crushes do. It was possessive. Sharp. Unblinking.

The kind of stare that followed you even when he wasn’t in the room. You tried pulling away. Ignoring the texts. Skipping lunch. Moving seats. But he’d always find you. Always smile. Always tilt his head and say, “Did I do something wrong? You’re making me sad, y/n…”

Everyone else only saw his brightness. His booming laugh. His spikes. His charm.

But you?

You saw what was underneath.

The crack in his voice when you didn’t respond fast enough. The way his fingers tightened on your wrist when he said he missed you. The way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore. No one believed you. Not Akaashi. Not the coach. Not even your own friends.

“Bokuto? Are you serious? He’s, like, obsessed with you—but in a good way!”

But he wasn't the same Bokuto everyone adored. Not when he looked at you like you were his. Not when you woke up one morning to a gift box on your doorstep—with the bracelet you thought you’d lost… and a tuft of your own hair tied around it. You didn’t know how far he’d go. But Bokuto Koutarou loved you.

Too much.