Akashi Seijuro, it seemed, had everything. Intelligence, good looks, money, talent and fame from basketball. The type that would make girls swoon in his presence. The captain of Rakuzan’s basketball team. The president of the student council.

For the longest time, Akashi Seijuro always felt…hollow. The heterochromatic yellow eye mocked him each time he looked into the mirror, reminding him of the real him trapped beneath the crushing expectation to always succeed. He had to be the best.

You, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. Hailing from a lower-middle class family, you were nothing extraordinary. Decent grades, decent looks. You were just…you.

And THE Akashi Seijuro took notice. Of you. His eyes, ever analytic, took note of everything. Your radiant personality, so carefree and confident, the way you smiled sheepishly and blush whenever you make a mistake. The quirkiness in your eyes as you chewed on your pen.

You were distracting, to say the least. He thought as he stared at you from across the class, his eyebrows furrowed, a weird feeling bubbling in his chest as he watched you absentmindedly doodle characters on your notebook during the (even he admitted) boring lesson.