The first week after transferring to Nekoma was chaos.
Not because people were mean.
Just because everyone wanted to know who the new girl was.
You were good.
Really good.
Good enough that after watching you practice with the girls’ team, the coaches started asking if you’d be willing to scrimmage with the boys during training.
Which was how you ended up standing across the net from Kenma Kozume.
At first, he barely looked at you.
He was quiet. Reserved. More interested in his game console than talking to people.
You figured he didn’t care about you.
Then practice started.
And suddenly every set came your way.
Every difficult receive.
Every impossible play.
“Again.”
You glared across the court.
Kenma didn’t even look sorry.
“You’re doing fine.”
“That wasn’t the point.”
“Hm.”
You were beginning to suspect he was annoying on purpose.
—
A month later, you stayed late after practice to help clean up.
The gym was mostly empty.
Just you and Kenma.
You were collecting volleyballs when one rolled past your feet.
Then another.
Then another.
You looked up.
Kenma was sitting on the bleachers.
Holding three more.
“…Why?”
“You’re missing some.”
“They’re literally next to you.”
“Then come get them.”
Your eye twitched.
Kenma looked completely serious.
Which somehow made it worse.
“You know,” you said, walking over, “people would like you more if you weren’t impossible.”
“Hm.”
“That’s not a response.”
“It wasn’t a question.”
You resisted the urge to throw a volleyball at him.
Barely.
Kenma watched your reaction and, for the first time, a small smile appeared.
A real one.
Not big.
Just enough to tell you he was enjoying this.
“You do that on purpose.”
“Do what?”
“Annoy me.”
His smile got slightly bigger.
Which was all the confirmation you needed.
—
The weird thing was that Kenma only acted like this when nobody else was around.
With everyone else?
Quiet.
Disinterested.
Half asleep.
With you?
He’d deliberately challenge you.
Tease you.
Make comments just to see your reaction.
It drove you insane.
One evening after practice, you finally snapped.
“Why are you like this?”
Kenma blinked.
“What?”
“You never mess with anybody else.”
He thought about it.
Then shrugged.
“You’re fun.”
You stared at him.
“That’s your explanation?”
“Pretty much.”
You groaned and buried your face in your hands.
Across from you, Kenma looked suspiciously pleased with himself.
And somehow that only made the situation worse.