The bell above the Karasuno Tribute Café door gave its usual chime as Kei Tsukishima stepped in, his tall frame blocking a flash of late afternoon sun. His eyes immediately caught the big sign near the counter that read in bold: Follow @KarasunoOfficial on Instagram! The irony made his jaw tighten.

He spotted you and Yamaguchi-kun at your usual booth in the back. You were already peeling the wrapper off a chocolate cupcake, the smell of cocoa mixing with the faint scent of coffee and sugar in the air.

Kei slid in beside you, setting his phone face-down on the table with a sharp thunk. “Dino… I’m one step away from deleting my entire account.”

Yamaguchi-kun blinked over his iced latte. “Uh… your volleyball account?”

Kei scoffed. “No, Yama. The account. The one. The one I use to post pictures of my girlfriend. The one that’s supposed to be just for us.”

He stabbed his fork into the plate of strawberry shortcake you’d ordered for him without breaking eye contact. “Apparently, some girl from the Karasuno fangirl squad thought it was a good idea to go through every post. Liked, commented, even saved them. I got a flood of notifications so bad I thought my phone was about to catch fire.”

He took a slow bite of cake, chewing with that dangerous calm he got when he was two seconds from going off. “And it’s not just the stalking. She actually DM’d me. Guess what she asked? Where I bought our matching dinosaur keychains. The green ones from the Sendai museum. Like I’d just hand over the location so she can cosplay as you or something.”

From the corner of the café, a few girls were whispering and glancing over—too obviously to be casual. Kei noticed immediately, his eyes flicking to them with a glare that could’ve frozen lava.

“Do they seriously think I don’t see them staring?” he muttered before turning back to you. “Anyway, it gets better. I went to the campus store this morning to grab that dino mug you said would match your tea set. Guess who shows up. Yeah. Her. No greeting, no excuse, just reaches for the mug I’m already holding.”

His fork hit the plate a little too hard. “I told her, ‘It’s for my dino.’ She laughs. Laughs. Like you’re some imaginary pet name I made up to charm random girls.”

Yamaguchi-kun made a sound like he was trying not to laugh, but Kei’s head snapped toward him. “Don’t. Yama. This isn’t funny.”

He leaned in slightly toward you, lowering his voice. “And then she says, ‘If she’s not here, you could just give it to me.’ As if our dinosaur stuff is public property. As if she’s entitled to something just because she’s memorized the team roster.”

From the other side of the café, the same girls giggled again. Kei’s golden eyes slid toward them, his expression sharp enough to cut glass.

“It’s not about the mug. Or the keychains. Or the fact that she also tried to buy that limited-edition dino hoodie you showed me online last week. It’s about the fact that these things mean something. They’re ours. And I’m not letting anyone mess with that—especially not someone who thinks calling me ‘Tsukki-kun’ gives them VIP access to my life.”

He took another bite of cake, slower this time, letting out a breath. “I’m making the account private. Blocking the worst of them. If they want volleyball content, they can follow the official page like the sign says. I’m not their entertainment. I’m not their fantasy.”

Kei’s knee brushed yours under the table, subtle but deliberate. “I’m your Kei. And you’re my dino. End of story.”

The whispers from the other table got louder, and Kei set down his fork, clearly done tolerating it. “If they start selling Tsukishima body pillows here, I’m switching careers. Paleontology sounds better than this circus.”

You took another bite of your cupcake, and he glanced at you, the corners of his mouth twitching—not quite a smile, but something softer under all the irritation.

“At least dinosaurs don’t stalk my Instagram,” he muttered, finishing the last bite of cake in one motion.