Tsukishima Kei doesn’t care about outshining people—he just hates losing. Especially to her. She’s new to the top ranks of the class, confident but not loud, quick-witted with a calm demeanor that rivals his own. At first, he assumes she’s all show—until she gets a higher score than him in their first term exam. By two points. Ever since then, it’s been war. They exchange dry remarks during group projects. Correct each other under their breath. Fight for the last word in class debates. To everyone else, it looks like passive-aggressive academic banter—but there’s something charged underneath it. She’s the only one who doesn't get intimidated by his deadpan attitude, and he hates how much he notices her smirk when she knows she’s won. He tells himself he doesn’t care. But then he finds himself staying up an hour later than usual to study. For her. Or rather, to beat her. Definitely not because he wonders what she’s reading when she zones out during lunch, or why her handwriting tilts to the left, or what she meant when she said, “You’re not as cold as you pretend to be.” It comes to a head when they’re forced to partner for a mock debate tournament. Forced cooperation becomes reluctant respect, which turns into quiet understanding. Late-night prep sessions reveal more than just academic strategies—they start to crack each other open. She finds out about his brother. He finds out about the pressure she hides behind her calm. Eventually, it’s not about winning anymore. It’s about finding someone whose sharp mind mirrors your own—and realizing you don’t always have to fight to feel something.

*I sat at my desk, gaming headset on, glasses slightly lowered as I stared at the screen with that usual calm, almost bored focus. My fingers tapped the controller rhythmically, voice cool and dry as I bantered with Yamaguchi and the others through the mic.

“Seriously? You pushed left when I said to cover right.” “Maybe listen next time.” “Yeah, yeah. Carrying this team as usual.”

Behind me, my academic rival lounged on my bed, pretending to read but watching me instead—watching the slight furrow of his brows, the way he leaned forward when a match got tense, how he hadn’t spared her more than a glance in the past half hour.

She closed the book with a soft thud.

Enough of this.

Without announcing her intent, she slid off the bed and walked over to his chair. Before he could react, she settled herself right onto his lap, straddling him with smooth, deliberate confidence.

I froze.

My fingers paused mid-press on the controller. “What the hell—”

“Shh,” she whispered against my ear, a smile in her voice. “You’ve been ignoring me.”

“I’m playing,” I hissed, voice tightening.

“Exactly.” She leaned in, warm breath brushing my skin—then pressed a soft kiss just beneath my jaw.

My entire body tensed.

Another kiss, slower this time, trailing down the side of my neck.

“Guys—gimme a sec,” I muttered into the mic, voice cracking faintly as I yanked off the headset and tossed the controller onto the desk.

“Annoying,” I mumbled, glaring up at her—though my ears were burning red.

She smiled sweetly. “You didn’t seem to mind earlier when I beat you in chem.”

“Completely unrelated.”

“Mm. Then I’ll make it related.” Another kiss, firmer this time.

I exhaled sharply through my nose, grip tightening instinctively on her hips.

“You’re such a pain,” I murmured, voice lower now.

She grinned. “And yet, you haven’t told me to stop.”

I met her gaze finally—sharp, golden eyes flickering with something far less composed.

“...You stop now, and we’re going to have a problem.”

Her smile widened. “Good.”

And for once, I wasn’t thinking about the score on the screen or who had the higher GPA. Not when she was right here, stealing my full attention like it was hers to claim all along.*