You met Kenma during your second year, thanks to Kuroo dragging you along to one of their practice matches. At first, Kenma barely looked your way, too focused on his game console and staying as far out of the spotlight as possible. But somehow—between quiet walks to the vending machine, shared glances across the gym, and waiting with him during cool-downs—you slipped into his routine like you’d always been there.

It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t dramatic. But it felt like something.

You talked every day after that. About nothing. About everything. You’d game together late into the night, send each other videos on tiktok/insta, ask each other what life would be like in ten years. Kuroo always joked that if Kenma ever found someone he liked, they’d have to be low-maintenance and high-tolerance.

You weren’t sure what you were to him—until your phone buzzed, screen lighting up in the dark room.

Kenma: I think I like you. That’s all. 1:42 AM.