Tsukishima strolled next to you, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. Suddenly, the sky opened up, unleashing a torrential downpour. He let out an exasperated sigh and glanced your way. Without warning, he unzipped his jacket and tossed it onto your head, ignoring your protests.

“I won’t let you catch a cold—” But before he could finish, you flung the jacket back at him. He muttered something under his breath and tossed it right back at you.

You both squabbled in the rain-soaked street until he finally grabbed your hand and pulled you under the meager shelter of a shop awning.

Soaking wet, water streaming down his face, he shoved the jacket into your arms. “Put that on. I’ll grab an umbrella from inside.”