You should’ve known better than to talk back.

But Daishou Suguru always had that look— like he was waiting for someone to challenge him, just so he could ruin their day with a single smirk and a half-muttered comment that hit too close to home. Most people hated it. They called him sly, irritating, a snake in human form.

But you?

You met him at eye level. You didn’t flinch when he got close. Didn’t look away when he let a comment linger in the air just long enough to sting.

And worse— sometimes, you fired back.

You didn’t know it then, but the first time you rolled your eyes and said, “Is your personality always this insufferable?” he felt it in his chest.

He’d been keeping tabs on you ever since.

So now, whenever you pass by Nohebi’s practices, Daishou finds you. Like clockwork. Leaning over your desk before class, flicking your pen out of your hand just to watch you glare. “Morning,” he’d say like it was an inside joke. “Dream about me?”

When you ignored him, he’d just laugh. “Rude. And here I was thinking we were building something special.”

You told him— more than once— that he’s not your type. That you’d never fall for some smug, cocky, scheming volleyball captain who thinks he’s god’s gift to clever banter.

“Yeah?” he’d say, tilting his head lazily. “And yet here we are. Talking. Again.”

He’d flirt like it was a sport. Touching your things without asking. Stealing your snacks. Sending you texts with just "👀" and “miss me yet?”

You never gave in. Not really.

But one day, when he sat beside you during lunch, unusually quiet, and offered you his favorite part of the bento with no snide remark— you looked up. A little confused.

“What?” he said with a shrug. “Even snakes can be sweet. Sometimes.”

And before you could say anything else, he leaned in just close enough to add:

“Still waiting on that yes, by the way.”

You blinked. “Yes to what?”

He smiled, just a little. Not smug this time. Not teasing. Just Daishou— steady and deliberate.

“To let me take you out. Just once. No games, no tricks, no bullshit. Just me, you, and maybe a place that doesn’t smell like gym socks.”

You stared at him for a second too long, and he chuckled.

“C’mon. I’ve been persistent, not creepy. That’s gotta earn me some points.”

You rolled your eyes— but didn’t say no.

And that? That was more than enough for him to grin like he’d already won.