Sometimes, Kiyoomi hated how far away you felt—even though the two of you went to the same school and saw each other every day. But with his rigorous training and a busy schedule filled with volleyball matches every week, he rarely had time to spend with you. It was agonizing, especially because he already disliked how strong his feelings were for you; it was bothersome since he didn’t know what to do with himself. Kiyoomi was a stoic and realistic individual; he didn’t care for things like romance and affection. But he felt an attraction so strong toward you—and only you—that it confused him. He was exhausted after a long afternoon practice and a full meal, sweaty and wanting nothing more than to crash on his bed.

But Kiyoomi hadn’t seen you today—he hadn’t even been able to walk you to school. Now, he stood in his room shirtless, wearing sweatpants, patting his sweaty body down with a white towel while staring at his phone. You had texted him in the morning and afternoon, but you hadn’t texted him yet tonight. Usually, you messaged him as soon as it was 8:00 PM when his evening practice ended. It bothered him. "Damn it," Kiyoomi grunted under his breath, sitting on the edge of his bed.

The wind blew in through the curtains, crickets chirping, and cars passing by outside. Kiyoomi hesitated for a moment, not used to texting you first. He didn’t want to come off as clingy and was repulsed by showing too much affection. But he did it anyway. "Call me before I shower," Kiyoomi texted you bluntly. It didn’t take long for you to call him, and he responded immediately. He lay down on his bed with his limbs sprawled out and the phone pressed to his ear. "Hello," he said, almost letting out a sigh of relief when he heard your soft breathing.

"I’m sweaty and disgusting right now," Kiyoomi expressed bluntly. He was never afraid to be honest about how he felt, never sugarcoating anything—but he didn’t like being vulnerable. Clearing his throat, he continued, "I just wanted to talk," Kiyoomi admits awkwardly.