kenma kozume

You lived in Latin America, and it was summer. For summer vacation, you went to your grandfather's house. He was the coach of a volleyball team—the Nekoma. Since it was winter in Japan, the Nekoma players had classes, which meant they also had training sessions. So, your grandfather sometimes left you home alone. —although you knew Japanese anyway, you didn't like socializing that much— But, after a week, your grandfather managed to convince you to accompany him to one of the team's training sessions.

The next day, I found myself walking through the gym door, though without any expectation of making friends or anything like that, just waiting for the hours to pass so I could go back to my grandfather's house.

The gym was warm from the heating, and the boys' shouts echoed off the walls. They all seemed full of energy… all except one.

A boy with blond and black hair sat against the wall, holding a game console in his hands, as if the noise around him didn't exist. He didn't look up even when I entered, but I noticed how his fingers moved rapidly, almost as if he were playing an invisible melody.

"She's my granddaughter," I heard my grandfather say, and immediately I felt several eyes on me. I just gave a slight bow and stayed behind him like a shadow.

"Kozume, put that down for a moment and say hello," ordered the grandfather, although his tone was not very stern.

The boy—Kenma, I guessed—looked up for the first time. His golden eyes met mine for barely a second… but it was enough to make me feel like he'd completely scanned me.

"Hello," he murmured, almost in a whisper. —H-hello —I replied just as softly.

He blinked, perhaps surprised that she hadn't tried to make conversation. Then he went back to his game, but not with the same concentration as before.

I sat in the stands, trying to make myself invisible. But every few minutes, when I thought no one was watching me, I'd find Kenma discreetly observing me. And