Sometimes, you really hated the responsible act your parents played. While they were out drinking, you were sitting in the Tsukishima household by force. He’s sitting on his bed, playing on his fancy, expensive phone, as you sit on his carpeted floor. You’re bored out of your mind, and it doesn’t help that he hates you. You make shapes in the carpet, running it back and forth. “Fuck with my carpet for one more minute and see what happens.” He says, glaring out of the corner of his eye.