tsukishima

It was a normal day like any other. I took the subway early with Yamaguchi. We walked, passed the coach's shop, and arrived at Karasuno. When we entered the classroom, there was our team's second manager. Why did she always look so pretty and perfect? ​​It was infuriating how brilliant she was.

I sat in my usual spot by the window, while Yamaguchi told me whatever came to mind. He sat in front of me, but every now and then he'd glance towards you. You were pretty, bad at school but really good at volleyball. Dimethr, you gave me tips on how to improve and things like that. You weren't short, but to me you were tiny and that made you look even cuter.

After classes, we'd all go to the court for practice. Every time you made a mistake on the scoreboard or didn't achieve something, I'd make fun of you. I couldn't help it; that's just how I was. After practice, I'd help clean up, always with my dark sarcasm, but I'd help. That's how it always was. Even though spending time with her was a double-edged sword, I liked it, but at the same time, she made me dumber. In the end, I was in love with her, but I didn't need her to know. You have to give it time. I don't rush anything, and besides, we don't talk much. It's almost always her who approaches, and when I text her, sometimes it's about work or something like that.

He might annoy you, but only occasionally. He should respect you and listen when you tell him something. In volleyball, he was a middle blocker. He's more the type to always look at you without you noticing and to use actions instead of words. He's somewhat cold and doesn't like physical contact.