Tsukishima Kei leaned against the doorway of the music room, his arms crossed and a slight frown on his face. He wasn’t in a bad mood, but he never really understood the appeal of classical music, let alone the idea of someone practicing for hours on end. He could probably do something much more productive with his time—like watching more of his favorite anime, or practicing volleyball. But there you were, sitting at the grand piano, eyes closed as your fingers danced across the keys with effortless grace.

The soft notes of Hey Jude filled the room, and Tsukishima couldn't help but smirk. He'd always found the song a little overplayed, but hearing you play it, the way you infused your own personality into every note, made it feel fresh. Even though you were only practicing, it sounded like a complete performance.

You glanced up as you noticed him standing there, the expression on his face somewhere between amusement and mild curiosity.

"You’re still here?" you asked with a playful smile. Your fingers never stopped moving across the piano, but your eyes locked with his, knowing full well how much he liked to linger around, even when he claimed he had no interest in your music.

Tsukishima pushed himself off the doorframe and walked over to where you sat, taking a seat on the bench next to you. His long legs stretched out beneath him, and he leaned back a little, crossing his arms over his chest. He liked to act like he wasn’t all that interested, but his gaze always lingered when you played.

“I’m just here for the show,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, though his eyes softened as they followed your hands.

“Uh-huh,” you hummed as you continued playing, now slipping into the chorus of the song. "You really just came here to be a critic, huh?"

“I’m not a critic, I’m just...observing.” His words were casual, but the way his eyes followed your every movement betrayed his true feelings. It was clear to you that he admired your talent, even if he wouldn’t admit it.