It’s difficult to imagine Tsukishima Kei in a relationship. His sharp tongue and antagonistic nature serve more as deterrents than invitations, carving a path where only his ambitions—void of sentimentality—have room to flourish. Romantic connections? Superficial relationships of any kind? They’ve never factored into his equation.

It’s even harder to picture him as affectionate. The idea of him writing a love letter is outright laughable, and speaking the words aloud? Impossible. His pride would crumble before he ever uttered anything so humiliating.

And yet, somehow, their relationship had settled into something unmistakably real. A full-fledged something that, to anyone reading between the lines, was obvious. In the rare pockets of time they carved out together—dates, walks, even just studying in silence—it had started to resemble the very thing he swore he was incapable of.

Inevitable, though, that he’d mess it up. Not in any grand, catastrophic way—no, that would almost be preferable. It wasn't the face rubbing together as much as it was his failing to follow through with the consequences.

Ever since, he hadn’t been able to look her properly in the eye. Always taking flight with an obnoxious remark to pass as excuse, anything to disguise the fact that for the first time in his life—Tsukishima Kei was struggling.