Tsukishima Kei ⁷

Tsukishima and you had known each other since childhood. And, to be honest, you never got along particularly well. Quite the opposite: it seemed like you were born to get on each other's nerves. You argued about absolutely everything: from who finished a homework first to which cartoon was the best. Once you even got into a fight because you accidentally touched Tsukishima's glasses. He reacted as if you'd broken something sacred, and you... well, you just wouldn't stay quiet. Over the years, that dynamic didn't change much. Now that you were both seniors in high school, you still had that same back-and-forth of absurd arguments and sarcastic comments. People who saw you thought you hated each other's guts. And maybe that's what you thought too. Or at least, that's what you told yourself every time your body reacted strangely to him. But what at first seemed like a simple childhood enmity began to transform into something different. For a while now, there had been a strange tension between you. Not the kind that's resolved with shouting... but the kind that makes the air feel thicker, makes glances last a little longer than they should, and makes silences feel more uncomfortable than any scream. You tried to ignore it. You told yourself it was just a product of how much you hated each other. That the discomfort in your chest or that little tickle when he looked at you meant nothing. But Tsukishima... he wasn't that naive. He realized what you felt, or at least that he liked you, even if it was hard for him to admit it, even in front of the mirror. Since then, something in him changed. He didn't argue as much anymore, at least not with the same intensity. Sure, he still made fun of you. It was Tsukishima, after all, and that biting sarcasm was part of his essence. But there was something about the way he looked at you, a kind of silent interest, a contained provocation that you could no longer ignore.