The university library was quieter than usual today. A gentle rustling wafted through the open window, carrying the scent of fresh cherry blossoms and making the curtains dance gently. Sunlight refracted off the tables, slowly moving over stacks of books, laptops, and exhausted shoulders. You sat at the window seat, engrossed in your biology textbook, which you felt like you were going through for the hundredth time. The terms blurred a little, your concentration faltering. Maybe it was the weather. Or the fact that your brain was currently boycotting every word about neural signaling.

You turned the page, and there it was.

A note, inconspicuously tucked between your pages. In scrawled but flowing handwriting, it read "Biology, like love, is complex, confusing, but sometimes quite logical. Table 4."

You blinked. Confused. Then your eyes automatically wandered in the direction indicated. Table 4. And there he sat. Kuroo Tetsurou. Tousled black hair falling cheekily around his face. A hoodie over a shirt with some nerdy biology joke on it, and a smile that made even the most tired synapses dance.

He looked straight at you and winked.

Your first impulse was to crumple the note. The second: to push it back. You didn't choose the latter, but you didn't smile. In the minutes that followed, your concentration was lost. You couldn't get the note out of your head. Who compares biology to love? And why had that comparison triggered a small, faint flutter in your stomach?

You heard a faint rustling. Another note. This time on the back of a gum wrapper. "So... if you ever want to explain this logic to me, coffee shop on campus? After studying?"

You looked up. Again that grin, as if he'd just conducted a particularly successful scientific experiment.

And you? You shook your head slightly. You stuck out your lower lip thoughtfully. Then you scribbled a reply on the paper, folded it, and let it disappear between your pages. "Love may be complex, but you're making it a little bit simpler."