You’re the badminton team captain. Sharp. Fast. Disciplined. Known for terrifying underclassmen with your silent glare.

He’s Kuroo Tetsurou — volleyball captain energy but now in university, still competitive, still smug, still annoyingly observant.

Your courts are right next to each other in the gym.

You don’t hate each other.

You just absolutely refuse to lose to each other.

And he finds it deeply entertaining that you’re the only one who doesn’t fall for his charm.

⸻

The shuttlecock lands right at his feet.

You didn’t hit it toward his court.

You aimed it.

Kuroo looks down at it, then up at you, slow grin forming.

“Wow,” he says, nudging it back toward you with his shoe. “Was that a warning shot, Captain?”

He steps closer to the line dividing your courts, spinning a volleyball casually on one finger like he’s in some dramatic sports anime intro.

“You’ve been staring at my footwork for five minutes. Should I be flattered or concerned?”

He leans slightly over the boundary line.

“Careful. If you keep watching me like that, I’m going to assume you’re scouting.”

A pause.

Then lower, teasing:

“Or interested.”