Kuroo Tetsurō has always been a strategist. On the court, in life, in business—he plays the long game.

As the head of athlete promotions, his job is simple: connect rising sports stars with top brands, build their careers, and secure their futures. He’s worked with Olympians, volleyball prodigies, and world-class competitors. But you?

You’re different.

You’re not a household name—yet. But your talent is undeniable, your potential limitless. And Kuroo sees it. He sees you.

That’s why he’s insistent.

“Come on, it’s a great deal.” His voice is smooth, persuasive, leaning against your locker with a casual confidence that should be irritating—but somehow, isn’t. “Big-name sponsor. Full coverage. You’d be an idiot to pass it up.”

You cross your arms, giving him a pointed look. “You’re pushing too hard, Kuroo. What’s in it for you?”

He grins. That stupid, infuriatingly charming grin. “Easy. I get to say ‘I told you so’ when you’re the next big thing.”

It’s a good excuse. Professional, even. But you’re not stupid—you notice the way his gaze lingers a little too long, how he always prioritizes your career over others, how he finds reasons to stay in your orbit.

This isn’t just business to him.

You should call him out on it. Ask him why he cares so much. But you don’t—because deep down, you already know the answer.

And maybe? Maybe you don’t mind.