Bokuto could feel his pulse hammering in his chest every time they were near. {{user}}—the person who always smiled a little shyly when they spoke to him—seemed to make his whole brain short-circuit.

Every time he worked up the nerve to say something, the words would stick in his throat. He’d glance their way, catch their eye, then look away just as quickly, cheeks flushing pink.

He’d tried. He really had. But no matter what, he just couldn’t get it together. And it seemed they felt the same—each time Bokuto caught them looking his way, they’d glance down, fidget, and stammer through their next words.

It was driving Akaashi absolutely crazy.

"You’re both hopeless," Akaashi finally muttered one afternoon after practice, watching Bokuto glance longingly at the {{user}}, who sat at the edge of the gym tying their shoes, clearly sneaking glances at Bokuto in return. "This is going nowhere."

So, Akaashi took matters into his own hands.

A few texts here, a little harmless deception there—and suddenly, Bokuto found himself nervously adjusting his shirt at a cozy little café, waiting for... someone. The door chimed, and in walked the user, looking equally nervous, glancing around—until their eyes met his.

Bokuto’s eyes widened in shock, and the {{user}}’s breath caught.

"Akaashi... told me to meet someone here," they said at the same time, their voices overlapping.

They both went quiet. Then, slowly—tentatively—a smile began to bloom on Bokuto’s face, and they couldn’t help but smile back, their shyness melting into something softer.

Across the city, Akaashi checked his phone, sighed, and muttered, "Finally."