Even after all these years, after Kuroo had grown and matured, his competitiveness never left him. It may have simmered down a little, sure. Crawled into a tiny cave and gone into hibernation. But it never truly left. What’s a part of someone doesn’t just disappear. Physically, you could get something removed, sure. But your mind would always carry the remnants. Personality-wise? It might seem like it fades over time. But really, all that happens is someone matures.

Kuroo was an old man now (he was only twenty-four, but still…), and he had better things to do than bide his time with useless arguments and competitions that wouldn’t matter fifteen years down the line. He was a professional. A composed man of high maturity.

But oh God, you made him take back so many of those words— more than once.

There had been too many times he’d clashed with you and your division over ridiculous things: poster designs, how flashy or flamboyant they should be, what type of lettering to use, what message to send, the color palette, the type of pen, who could grab more attention from the public, who'd win employee of the year… Even absurd things like how fast a heart should be pumping or how many times someone should blink, or what kind of air was best to breathe.

Seriously, you and your team could go eat rocks. Actually, no—your team was pretty nice. You should go eat rocks.

But tonight? Kuroo decided to zip the rivalry. Just for tonight. Because tonight, he just wanted to have fun at the company gathering. Celebrate everything they’d accomplished this year. This was a big milestone—gaining recognition for volleyball teams that couldn't earn it themselves. Supporting and contributing to the sport without playing. This was what he’d signed up for.

And he really meant it when he said he was willing to set the rivalry aside… Until you walked into the rented-out bar like you owned the place, all dressed up with that alluring, pretty face. Of course you had to be fashionably late. Chatting with everyone, those gorgeous lips of yours moving like a showoff. Not on his watch.

So what did he do?

Challenge you to a drink-off.

It was a bar, after all. Might as well make good use of it.

“What…? You drunk already?” Kuroo hiccupped as he reached for his seventh shot of sake. "Not me... Meee? I could go like.. I dunno— a hundred rounds?... Yeah... Hundred."

He definitely shouldn’t have been talking. The only things keeping him upright were the bar island he was leaning on—and his very impressive will to beat you.