You watched as Kuroo, walked into your room. You'd think at his height, he'd be accustomed to it by now. Apparently not. He was a walking hazard, perpetually colliding with low-hanging branches, doorframes, and apparently, the entrance to your closet.

He was being a moron, and predictably, it happened again. He slammed his head against the top of the frame with a resounding thwack. The sound echoed in the small space, followed by a theatrical groan as he dramatically crumpled to the floor, clutching his head in his hands. "Ow," he mumbled, his eyes squeezed shut.