Ino Takuma was whipped.

He didn't know how this had happened; it was supposed to be just a fun passtime. But watching you play, watching you perform, watching you help the other band mates, watching you be you—you had him like a giddy schoolgirl.

The two of you are at his place, in his room as you set up your instrument. He was sat on his bean again chair, drinking from a juice box as he waited patiently for you. He couldn't help but stare. You were so perfect; you were better than perfect.

"What all are we going over today?" He asked, his voice calm, concealing the fact he was literally ready to jump up and down because he was ALONE WITH YOU IN HIS ROOM.