Chapter Text
You never planned on anyone at school knowing you wrestled. It was easier that way. Less attention, less judgment, less of the constant “But you’re a girl, right?” comments people always felt entitled to make.
And honestly? High school is exhausting enough.
Kyoutani definitely didn’t need to know.
He was loud, intense, always fighting someone or something. You knew he wrestled because he made it obvious. Whether it was his hoodie, his bag, his friends hyping him up in the hallway, or him bragging after weekend tournaments, he lived for the attention.
You didn’t.
So when first period explodes with noise and shouting, your body reacts before your brain does. Heads lift, chairs scrape, and people rush toward the hallway.
You already know what happened.
You can tell by the way your stomach twists.
Someone yells, “The brackets dropped! Check your matches!”
Someone else shouts, “Yo, who did Kyoutani get?”
You feel sick.
You unlock your phone with shaky fingers. The tournament site loads slowly, like torture. You scroll down until your name appears.
Y/N L/N — Seed 3
Your eyes land on your matchup and your heart stops.
Match 12: Kyoutani Kentarou vs. Y/N L/N
The classroom noise fades into a dull roar.
You stare.
Then stare harder.
You blink once, twice.
No escape.
That’s your name.
That’s his name.
That’s your round one.
You flip your phone face down so hard it bounces.
Across the room, someone says, “Kyoutani, check your bracket.”
Kyoutani mutters something, probably annoyed. Then you hear his voice shift.
“What the hell.”
Your shoulders tense.
He says it a little louder. “What the actual hell.”
The person next to him leans over. “Who’d you get?”
Kyoutani doesn’t answer. He’s staring at his phone, jaw clenched like he’s going to punch through the screen.
Then his head lifts.
Your heart drops through the floor as you look away too late.
His eyes find you instantly.
His expression goes from confused, to pissed, to something like disbelief.
The bell rings but no one moves. Everyone is too busy staring between the two of you like they’re watching an episode of a drama unfold live.
You grab your bag and make a run for it.
You push through the doorway, determined to lose him in the crowd, but he’s half a step behind you almost immediately. You hear him curse and shove someone aside.
“Hey!” a girl complains.
“Move,” Kyoutani snaps.
You try disappearing into the flow of bodies, but it doesn’t work. Kyoutani is too big and too pissed to blend in. He’s catching up fast.
“Y/N!”
You pretend you didn’t hear him.
“No. Hey. Seriously. Stop walking.”
You go faster.
“Damn it.”
His hand hits the locker beside your head with a loud metallic smack. You flinch from the noise and the sudden closeness. A few students stop and watch from a distance, already expecting a fight.
Kyoutani looks furious.
“Why is your name on my bracket?” He doesn’t ease into the question. He spits it like he’s been waiting years to yell it.
You keep your eyes forward. “Move.”
“No.” He steps right in front of you. “Answer me.”
“Kyoutani, I don’t want to do this here.”
“I don’t care where we do it. You wrestle. Since when?”
“Since a long time ago.”
He scoffs, loud enough that three people look over. “Bullshit. I’ve never seen you at practice.”
“Because I don’t wrestle for the school.”
He tilts his head. “What, some random club?”
You look him in the eyes for the first time. He’s genuinely trying to figure you out, and it’s throwing him off. You can tell he doesn’t like not knowing something.
“Independent,” you say softly. “Tournaments only.”
“Why wouldn’t you just wrestle here?”
“Because I didn’t want anyone knowing.” Your voice is flat, because you’re tired. “Especially people like you.”
His expression snaps sharp. “People like me?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
He steps closer. “Say it.”
“You’re loud. You’re cocky. You think you’re unbeatable. And you love the attention. I don’t.”
He opens his mouth but someone calls out behind him.
“Kyoutani, man, is that real? She’s your match?”
“Dude, she’s so tiny. That’s gonna be easy.”
“Yeah, free win.”
Kyoutani whips around and glares so hard everyone goes silent.
He turns back to you, eyes darker than before. “You let people talk like that?”
You shrug. “I don’t care.”
“You should,” he mutters.
You push past him before he can say anything else.
Students whisper as you walk away.
“Wait, Y/N wrestles?”
“Are they serious?”
“She’s gonna get folded.”
“Kyoutani’s gonna destroy her.”
“Unless she forfeits first.”
“I didn’t even know girls could join that division.”
You stop hearing them after a while.
You make it to your locker, shove it open, and press your forehead against the cool metal. You breathe slowly, trying to calm the shaking in your hands.
You hear footsteps.
Damn it.
You already know who they belong to.
He doesn’t try to hide the fact he followed you.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Kyoutani says. “Why hide it?”
You keep your back to him.
“It’s my life. I don’t need permission.”
“I’m not asking for permission,” he growls. “I’m asking because you’re acting like you’re embarrassed.”
“I’m not embarrassed,” you snap, turning. “I just didn’t want you knowing.”
He pauses, caught off guard. “Why not me, specifically?”
“Because you underestimate every girl in this school.”
“I don’t underestimate you.”
“You did ten minutes ago.”
He opens his mouth to argue but stops. His jaw works like he’s trying to bite down whatever he wants to say.
Then his voice drops lower.
“You better show up to that match.”
“I am.”
He nods slowly, still irritated, still confused.
But definitely interested now.
When the warning bell rings, he finally backs away, eyes locked on you the whole time.
You watch him leave, heart pounding.
This is exactly what you didn’t want.
Kyoutani knows.
The school knows.
The bracket is official.
You’re fighting him.
He’s not calm.
He’s not ignoring it.
And judging by the way he looked at you before turning the corner…
He’s not letting this go anytime soon.