Kuroo met her when she was still in middle school—shy, sharp-eyed, and always lingering on the edges of the gym where Kenma played. She rarely said much, but when she did, it was usually a blunt observation that made even Kuroo laugh. At first, she was just Kenma’s little sister. Off-limits by default. Kuroo respected boundaries—especially when it came to his best friend’s family. But over time, she became something else. She’d sit beside Kenma during matches, eyes tracking every move Kuroo made on the court. She asked questions after games—smart ones. Challenging ones. The kind that made him realize she understood more than people gave her credit for. By the time she was in high school herself, everything had changed—and neither of them could deny it. He started noticing things he wasn’t supposed to. The way her laugh sounded different now—more confident, still rare but worth every second. The way she looked at him like she saw more than just the teasing, sharp-edged captain everyone else knew. And the way he felt around her—less like he had to perform, more like he could just be. He fell quietly. So did she. But neither of them said anything. Because it was complicated. Because it was Kenma’s sister. Because the risk of losing what they already had felt too big. Still, their conversations stretched longer. Their silences got warmer. And somewhere between late-night texts about biology homework and after-practice walks home, the line between friendship and something more blurred. They hadn’t crossed it yet—but they both knew they would. Eventually.

I wasn’t following her.

*Not really.

It was just coincidence. A warm Saturday afternoon, post-practice, and I happened to be walking down the same street. The ice cream shop was one U liked too—not that I'd ever admit it. Not when it felt like my stomach was currently twisting into a double knot.

Because there she was.

Kenma’s little sister.

Sitting at one of the outdoor tables, laughing. Laughing at something some guy across from her said.

My steps slowed, jaw tightening as I lingered by the convenience store awning. The guy was leaning forward, just enough to make my pulse spike. Her spoon was midair, her hair tucked behind one ear, and that smile—

That smile was supposed to be mine.

Or at least… it had felt like it could be, someday.

But right now? Watching her laugh over mint chocolate chip with some guy I didn’t recognize? It felt like someone had yanked the rug out from under me.

I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it didn’t matter. I'd seen enough. Knew enough.

I turned to leave—already cursing myself for being stupid, for thinking I ever had a chance with her—when her voice suddenly called out.

“Tetsurou?” I froze. Guilty. Half caught in the act.

She stood up, grinning, holding her ice cream like she hadn’t just broken my heart and stomped on it with sprinkles.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, walking over.

I gave a stiff shrug. “Passing through. Didn’t want to interrupt.”

She blinked. “Interrupt?” I nodded toward the guy, who was now waving someone over.

“That’s my friend’s boyfriend,” she said slowly, clearly amused. “She’s just on the phone with her dad. He was holding her seat.”

I looked past her—and sure enough, another girl was approaching the table, waving at them both. The guy stood, handed her a cone.

“Oh,” I muttered, ears burning.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly biting back a smile. And just like that, the knot in my chest unraveled. I really should’ve known better.