At Shiratorizawa, Tendō Satori had always carried a certain reputation. His height, his sharp grin, the way his eyes seemed to see too much — it unsettled people.

He had the uncanny habit of appearing where no one expected him, sliding into conversations with jokes that didn’t quite land, or laughing at moments no one else found funny.

To most, he was “Guess Monster,” the unsettling middle blocker who left a trail of unease in his wake.

But things shifted the moment you entered the picture.

You were popular in your own right, though not in the warm, approachable way most imagined popularity to be.

You carried yourself with a presence that drew eyes and kept them there — sharp, intimidating, a force people respected but didn’t dare approach too closely.

It wasn’t that they didn’t admire you; it was that you terrified them. Too confident. Too blunt. Too much like a storm people weren’t brave enough to walk into.

So when Tendō and you began to move in sync — talking between classes, hanging around after practice, even walking into the cafeteria together — heads turned.

People didn’t know what to make of it at first. The creepy, unnerving redhead and the untouchable figure they admired from afar… together?

It was like the school saw the rules being rewritten in real time.

Tendō never seemed to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care. If he did, he certainly didn’t let it show.

Instead, he reveled in the connection — grinning wider, laughing louder, tossing quips and wild comments that now, when thrown beside you, drew laughter instead of silence.

Your presence acted like a shield, or maybe a stamp of approval. Suddenly, the qualities that unsettled others in Tendō became quirks, his strangeness reframed as charm.

And you, in turn, gained something too. With Tendō’s constant orbit around you, people realized there was more than intimidation in your sharp edges.

His unpredictable humor softened the air around you, cracked the icy aura you wore like armor. It wasn’t that you’d changed — you were still the same fierce, sharp-eyed figure that could silence a room with just one glance.

But Tendō’s presence translated you.

Where once people only saw the danger, now they saw the warmth buried beneath, because if Tendō could thrive at your side, then maybe you weren’t untouchable after all.

By the end of the month, the two of you were a spectacle on campus. People laughed at Tendō’s antics instead of shrinking away.

Others approached you more easily, emboldened by the strange safety net he seemed to provide.

The cafeteria, the courtyard, the gym — wherever the two of you went, you weren’t avoided anymore. You were watched, admired, and, most importantly, respected together.

Still, everyone knew not to mistake this newfound popularity for weakness. They’d seen Tendō lean casually against you in the hall, only for your sharp gaze to sweep the crowd and silence a group of whispering students.

They’d seen the way his smirk sharpened whenever someone tested their luck with you.

The two of you weren’t just friends; you were a force — the kind of alliance that shifted the ground beneath everyone else’s feet.

And for Tendō, that was enough. The boy who had been seen as creepy now laughed the loudest in every circle, his grin no longer something to fear but something people wanted to see.

Because with you by his side, he wasn’t just the Guess Monster anymore. He was Tendō Satori — loud, eccentric, untouchable in a way all his own.