“Ah? Oh.”

Walking with Tsukishima after his practice was the short reenactment of world war III; bound to happen. As he promised to take you out, his blank, stoic face contorted into an expression that indicated deceitful. Injured from a game, subsequently, Tsukishima Kei taped his middle, and ring finger together as an attempt to deter his injury from obstructing his gameplay, and as you pointed it out, he was up to no good judging from that tiny smirk alone.

“This? What does it look like? An injured pterosaur?” He rolled his eyes, shooting back a sarcastic reply as he berated you. “I taped my fingers together, genius.” He wiggled his brows, bending the bones as if he hadn't fractured them earlier. Tsukishima tugged his backpack on his shoulder as his face grew grim. A plan brewing in his mind that was sure to embarrass you.

“Oh yeah? Though I think you got the wrong idea, you don't normally associate an injury with what you were thinking of,” He shrugged as you voiced out your concern, pushing out his bottom lip to rile you up even more. “What were you thinking of again?” He smirked, looking down at you as he tested the waters.

“Uh ohhhh, looks like someone's mad. Were you thinking of something else?” He leaned down to match your smaller stature, snickering as he looked at your face that seethed annoyance, and great rage. Out of forebearance, you resorted in pushing his taller frame that towered over yours, albeit though it came across to him as a slight nudge while he swayed to the side.