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He couldn’t stop looking at you.
Even when he tried, he couldn’t. He found his eyes wandering to his side, to your direction, his head following. Just to see what you’re doing, even if it’s mundane.
You’re getting your laptop out? Cute. You’re logging in your password? Adorable. You’re tucking your hair back into your ear? He can see more of your features now, and he’s even more whipped. You’re staring back at him? Such beautiful eyes—wait.
“Can I help you?”
He wasn’t prepared for this.
“Uh, yeah. This is Intro to Chem Eng, right?”
“Yes.”
“Great. Thanks. I’m 𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐔.” He puts his hand out for you to shake. “I’m (Name).” You say, shaking his hand before immediately going back to your laptop. You seem pretty confused by his question; you were either biting back a laugh or just very shy. He understands. It’s the first day, after all.
Kuroo turns back to the board, where he is met by the big “INTRODUCTION TO CHEMICAL ENGINEERING” written in chalk. Oh. At least he knows your name, now.
The professor arrives to class, stripping away any more chances of Kuroo embarrassing himself in front of you. Since the discussion tackled the class syllabus, most students were on their laptops or notebooks, jotting down the upcoming projects or grades system. Kuroo didn’t have to; he reviewed the syllabus days ago. He spent the rest of the class, arms crossed, visibly unoccupied.
After discussing the topic calendar, the professor moves on to the assignments.
“I will be giving weekly modules that requires a partner. Now, I’ll give you guys five minutes to choose one, but note that they’ll be working with you for the entire term. Choose wisely.”
As soon as the professor waved her hand off, Kuroo took his chance.
“Wanna be partners, (Name)?” He was practically buzzing in excitement. Meanwhile, you looked worried. Sitting beside you was the very picture of a stereotypical freeloader. Kuroo had a jock build from head to toe, and you’ve seen him hang out with the well-known athletes of the school. He barely wrote a word during the syllabus discussion, so you’re not confident that he’s actually taking this class seriously. He seems very desperate to be paired with someone that looks competent. And he’s been staring at you for a while — he was probably marking his target.
You open your mouth to say no, but one quick scan of the room made you realize that many people are partnering up, fast. The person beside you is already chatting excitedly with the person in front of you, and you could hear the same for the people behind you. Many of your classmates ended up being friend groups that enlisted in the class together, while you enlisted alone. Fuck it, he’s already offering. You think.
“Okay.”
“You sound unsure.”
“I do?”
“Yeah. Come on, give me a little more confidence.”
Your eyes are screaming, you serious?, but Kuroo only responds with a smirk.
“Yes.” You sigh.
“Little more.”
“Yes. Yes. A million times. Yes.”
“Now it just sounds like I proposed.”
You break into giggles, not realizing that it took Kuroo every single bone in his body to say that. If you press your palm against his skin, you could feel the heat emitting off of it. He sends a quick prayer to the gods for the redness not to show on his skin.
“Ha-ha. Better not be a freeloader then or I’m canceling the wedding.” You tease back, fully looking him in the eye with the confidence of a tiger. So you can flirt back. Kuroo’s heart skips a beat — pretty, academically inclined, witty. He just found his soulmate, everyone.
Before he could bite back, the professor interrupts with a continuation of the discussion. Unlike his classmates, Kuroo is very excited to answer a bunch of long, complicated, headache-inducing modules with you.
He becomes the first and last person you talk to in that class. “Can I get your email, Kuroo? For the modules.”
“Email? I barely check that.” He replies, reaching for his phone in his pocket. “Just put your IG.”
What Kuroo failed to mention was that his inbox was perpetually swamped with internship offers, research opportunities, and recruitment emails — some attracted by his straight-A grades, others by his reputation on the volleyball court. He didn’t want to risk missing any email from you.
However, he just waved a red flag right to your face. The reminder of his freeloader image hits you like a truck. The school sends all important announcements to the students’ emails — who wouldn’t check that? Unfortunately, there was no turning back. You already made that flirty wedding comment. Masking your regret, you type your username on his search bar, but it doesn’t show up.
Your username is very simple; it’s your own name. You type it again — no results.
“Maybe your phone’s tweaking? Here, use mine.” You open your Instagram before giving him your phone. Kuroo types out his username — one just as simple as yours — but the same thing happens. Nothing comes up. Other accounts who share slightly similar usernames do, except his.
“You have me blocked already, (Name)?”
“No…? I literally just met you today.”
“Uh, try my number instead.” Kuroo types in his number, and sends a text to see if he receives it, just in case.
He doesn’t. The text comes out as ‘Not Delivered’, the big red indicator taunting him in his face. “I think you should check if I’m blocked.” He suggests, his brows furrowing in confusion as he returns your phone. The two of you check the ‘Blocked Contacts’ on your phone, and to your horror, Kuroo Tetsurou is one of them. The same goes for him. He didn’t have to introduce himself to get your name, apparently; he could’ve just checked his Blocked Contacts.
“I don’t know why—”
“I swear to you I didn’t—”
“I just unblocked your number.”
“Me too.”
What was supposed to be a harmless exchange of contacts turned into an awkward, confusing moment neither of you want to remember. Silence lingers in the air for a few seconds, your two minds scrambling for any logical explanation. But there is none. No reasonable lie, no words to justify why you have a stranger blocked.
Eventually, you decide to drop it. You send a message to your newly unblocked contact. A wave of relief washes over you when you hear the notification buzz from Kuroo’s phone. “There. Now it works.” You laugh, trying to diffuse the tension. However, the sound comes out strained, only making the awkwardness more palpable.
“I’m really sorry, I don’t know why you’re blocked.” He raises both of his hands up. “Nothing against you. Swear.”
“No! It’s fine, really! Might just be a glitch.” Both of you know that explanation doesn’t reassure anything.
Having successfully exchanged contacts, you both part ways. The walk to your next class is quiet — no earphones, no thinking about your plans after school. The only thing occupying your mind is how, or why, you have Kuroo blocked. You’ve seen him on campus, but you’ve never had any interaction at all. He was just a stranger to you moments ago.
Kuroo’s next class isn’t for another two hours, so he decides to spend his free time showing Kenma around campus—despite the fact that he already went on a tour during freshman orientation. Not even ten minutes into Kuroo’s personalized tour, Kenma is already ready to sit down, so the two decide to lounge in one of the campus cafés.
“Weirdest thing happened to me, Ken.”
“What?” He replies, not looking up from his game. Kuroo doesn’t take offense to this; he’s been with Kenma long enough to know that he’s actively listening.
“I met this girl today. I don’t know if she was shy, or didn’t like me—”
“The latter.”
“Har-har. But fuck. She’s gorgeous. Like, exactly my type. So I ask her to be my partner, right. She says yes so I give her my IG. But here’s the thing. She’s blocked.”
The sounds coming from Kenma’s console audibly stops. “Huh?”
“Yeah. It’s my first time meeting her. I don’t know why the hell I have her blocked, and she has me blocked too!” Kuroo laughs, thinking back at your puzzled, slightly embarrassed face.
“Wait wait wait. What’s her name?” Kenma is now fully looking at him. His brows knit together, his expression sharpening with sudden interest like a detective trying to solve a mystery.
“(Name). Do you know her?” Kuroo asks. His smile slowly fades when he notices the strange look staring back at him.
His friend opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. He closes it again, a puzzled look written all over his face as he tries to figure out what to reply to Kuroo. His weird attitude leaves the older one confused. There’s no way Kenma knows you — it’s his first day as a freshman. Maybe you’re some famous person, or a girl Kuroo has provoked before. Maybe you had a friend that just didn’t like Kuroo, and asked you to block him — but it doesn’t explain why Kuroo has you blocked. He doesn’t even block his worst enemies; he’d surely remember you if he took the effort to ensure he never sees you online.
“I’ve heard about her.” Kenma finally says. “She’s a sweet girl. Very, very smart, but she’s not uptight. She’s kinda like you, honestly.”
“Do you know if she’s single?”
“You ask her that.”
“Alright, fine. I will.”
Kuroo tries to ignore his friend’s hesitant attitude, like he was holding something back. He wonders if you’re an interesting girl, or a person he actually has to avoid. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Kenma?”
Kenma only shakes his head in response. He’s normally quiet, but this is a different type of quiet. A different variant that his childhood best friend could pick up on. Kuroo isn’t known to be emotionally intelligent for nothing.
“Kuroo!”
He whips his head toward the deep voice calling his name. It’s Yuichi, one of his college friends. They weren’t old classmates, nor did they play volleyball together; he was simply a guy from last term’s class who happened to match his personality to the T.
“Yuichi! What’s up with you?” he responds, rising from his seat to dap his friend up.
“Nothing much. Got a date with my girl later.”
At the mention of a date, he takes the opportunity to salvage a little more information.
“Bro, you familiar with (Name)?”
“Yeah!” Yuichi exclaims. “She’s really chill. I share a class with her in Ethics. Type to recite all the time and all that.”
Kuroo could burst. Further confirmation that you’re the type to take academics seriously? He just fell even harder.
“Nice. She’s my partner in Chem Eng, and I really want to get to know her.”
“Oh, so you’re doing a background check?” Yuichi laughs, patting him on the shoulder. “You got nothing to worry about. She’s very likeable.”
“Alright. Thanks, man. You take care.”
It happened.
The one thing he’s been looking forward to.
The one thing that will become the highlight of his week.
Kuroo stares at his laptop, a giddy smile on his face. The words “MODULE 1: FUNDAMENTALS OF CHEMICAL ENGINEERING: DUE IN 3 DAYS” greeted his inbox like birds to a Disney princess.While his classmates groaned at the requirement that the module had to be answered physically instead of online, in a convenient Google Docs, Kuroo celebrated. It wasn’t just an inconvenient, tedious assignment to him. It was a reason to talk to you. An excuse to spend time with you.
Shortly after receiving the announcement, Kuroo decides to make the first move — much to your surprise. The freeloader, jock stereotype hasn’t fully left your mind yet.
Kuroo Tetsurou — Today 5:47 AM
heyy
[Sent an attachment]
the module’s pretty long and we have to answer it on-hand, so i suggest we get started tonight
is that cool with u?
The three dots indicating that you’re typing shocks him. Of course you’re the type to be up this early.
(Name) — Today 5:47 AM
oh good morning kuroo! thanks for sending it!
yeah, works w me. i have classes 7am-2pm but im free after that
Kuroo Tetsurou — Today 5:48 AM
ill reserve a study room at 5pm
is that good with u?
(Name) — Today 5:50 AM
yep, i can print it
see u at 5 :))
Kuroo’s confused. He’s just setting up a study period with his partner, yet he could feel his heart beat against his ribs at an uncomfortable speed — a speed that has him catching his breath. He’s done worse; he’s invited girls over to his place, and it’s usually not for academics. But for some reason, you’re different. You’re breaking him down into a lovesick boy with a huge crush. There’s just something about you, and he can’t wait for 5:00 PM.
You go to your reserved study room at 4:40 PM on the dot, expecting to be the first one there. To your surprise, Kuroo is already inside, laptop and notebooks in full display. A bunch of formulas and terminologies are written on the whiteboard, and it seems that Kuroo has started work on a few solutions.
“(Name), hey! Just wanna apologize in advance. I’m only catching up with the material now because of volleyball practice.” He rubs the back of his neck, a sheepish grin on his face. “I’ve understood most of it, though. I’ll do my best.”
“No worries.” You respond, sending him a warm smile. You were a little worried — but based on his writings on the board, he seems to have a pretty okay grasp of the lesson. It took you a long while to digest it, though. If Kuroo’s only catching up on it now, you might have to do most of the work for this module.
Once you take your seat beside him, Kuroo reaches for two plastic cups. “I got you some coffee.”
“Oh my god, you didn’t have to!”
“Shh, take it. It’s my little apology.”
You graciously take the cup from his hands and bring it to your lips. “You’re sweet, I’m buying you one next time—” The coffee hits your tongue, making you freeze. “Wha.”
Your reaction makes Kuroo’s brows furrow for a second.
“Is this an iced Spanish Latte with oat milk, less ice, and two pumps of vanilla?”
“Yes, actually.”
Your eyes dart to the label of the cup. Sure enough, every detail is there, down to the last specification. It wasn’t a default order, straight off the menu. “This is my exact order.”
“You’re kidding.” Your partner sounds genuinely surprised at this.
“Yeah, you even ordered 75% sweetness. I always get 75% sweetness. Not 25, not 100.” A shocked laugh escapes you. “I didn’t know we have the same order, Kuroo!”
“We don’t.” He shows you the label of his cup — a Cold brew. Just a regular Cold brew. The only similar details between your cup and his is the “Kuroo ♡” written underneath in cursive. (You’re pretty sure there’s a phone number scrawled underneath too, but the condensation smudged it.)
“How did you know my order? It’s so specific!”
“No, no, let’s talk about how you got all those details just from one sip.”
“Yeah, because I always order this.” You raise your eyebrow at him, feeling more intrigued than creeped out. “You stalking me?”
“I’m being so for real with you right now. I don’t know how that happened, I just figured you’d like it.”
“Just figured?” You narrow your eyes at him, fighting back a giggle. You’ve shared many things on social media, but none of it would be your hyperspecific coffee order that has got you through many exam weeks. These are details that not even your friends know about.
“I really don’t know how to explain it.” He throws his hands up in surrender. By the equally baffled look on his face, you’re slightly convinced. One weird thing has already happened between the two of you, so you don’t hesitate to ask: “Do you read minds?”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. I was thinking of ordering this during Chem Eng.” You lean closer to your partner, cornering him little by little. The module is now forgotten by the two of you. “Maybe you used your telepathy skills to block me, too.”
“You still remember that?!”
“Hard to forget. Like my coffee order.”
You break into giggles as Kuroo, yet again, attempts to defend himself from that situation. For someone with such a cool demeanor in class, he looks very cute when he’s embarrassed. He’s so adorable, it’s almost dorky.
“Whatever. You’re hiding something from me.”
And that’s the thing. Kuroo had absolutely nothing to hide; he really didn’t know. Getting you coffee was his only intention, not surprising you like this. For some weird reason, ordering that for you felt like second-nature to him, like pulling out a memorized formula from the crevices of his brain. He simply walked to the counter, told the barista your order, and somehow prattled every single specification without stopping to think. It was like recalling the quadratic formula — you don’t stop to think because you have it memorized. There really was no explanation to it, but he realizes that he has to give one.
You were still amused by it, like a kid with a magic trick. It hasn’t sunk to you yet, but it did for Kuroo – he looks like a stalker. His attitude towards you for the past few days was like an introduction to a developing story: the staring in class, the blocking on both your social media and phone number despite meeting each other for the first time, and now this? He’s never even ordered oat milk for himself before. Just a regular, plain, straight-from-the-menu Cold brew. Every time.
From the outside, Kuroo is a man who supposedly “didn’t know you”, yet somehow had been watching you long enough to notice the smallest details. He is a man who desperately wanted to be your partner. And blocking you looked like some kind of coping mechanism—an attempt to limit him from you.
So he pulls a lie out of his ass.
“I just thought you’d like it since my sister orders it all the time.” He fibs, trying to recover his cool demeanor. “She usually gets 25% sweetness though, but you seem like the ‘sweet coffee’ type.”
The delightfully entertained smile on your face starts to soften. “Oh, your sister has good taste! When you see her, tell her to order an iced white mocha latte with str—”
“Strawberry cold foam?”
“Yes! I’m starting to like you, Kuroo.”
Your partner responds with a knowing hum, leaning back in his chair with a smirk that says, “I know.” He tries to ignore the way his heart started beating faster. And more importantly —
Kuroo is wondering how the hell he knows that.
And you’re wondering how the hell Kuroo learns so fast. You both answered the conceptual questions with ease, but the problem-solving? Your partner claimed he just started catching up today, but now you think he’s full of shit. Kuroo answered the problems with such an impressive pace; he barely looked at the formulas, and he understood the flow very quickly. He’d use his calculator for complex values, but he still solved pretty big numbers in his head with ease. And his answers come out correct, every single time.
You constantly checked his side of the table to see if he was using AI, or a search engine, or something. But nope. His laptop’s closed shut and his phone’s in his pocket. A weird feeling started brewing inside of you when you watched him solve with ease, beating you to the answer. You pegged it as jealousy at first.
But then, something comes out of Kuroo’s mouth — something you don’t expect from an athlete.
“(Name).”
“Hm?”
“Are you a process flow diagram? ‘Cause I keep getting lost looking at you.”
A pick-up line. A chemical-fucking-engineering pick-up line. You blink at him. Your deadpan expression screams really?, making your partner burst into laughter. But deep inside, it clicks.
You’re not jealous. You’re slowly starting to get attracted to him.
“Damn, I thought we’d have to see each other again, but we finished the module super fast.” Kuroo says, as he helps you clean up the table.
“We? You carried.” You poke his chest, eliciting a proud shrug from him in response. “I wished we didn’t answer it so fast though. Would love more coffees from you.”
“Let’s do it.”
Your head darts from your bag to your partner. A tint of red forms on his cheeks as he stares back at you, but he continues. “Can I take you out for coffee tomorrow? On me, of course.”
“I’d love that.”
Kuroo mentally restrains himself from pumping his fist in the air.
“Cool, I’ll text you the details.” Despite the warmth spreading across his cheeks, he manages to keep a relaxed smile on his face. It’s all an act, though; internally, he’s losing his mind.
Your eyes drift to the heavy-looking backpack slung over his shoulder. “You heading to practice, Kuroo?”
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
“You always preferred night practices at Nekoma,” you say casually, pointing toward the time on your phone. “Anyways, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Your eyes catch the dumbfounded look on his face. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, one hand lifting into a vague, confused gesture.
You only stare back, equally confused, before deciding to leave the room.
Neither of you notice the question lingering on his face until the moment you’re gone. Kuroo blinks at the wall, his mind fast-forwarding the conversations you two shared a while ago. Yep. No discussion about his sport. Or even Nekoma.
“How the hell does she know that?”
Maybe you checked his Instagram, no biggie. Although it was almost a year ago, maybe two, he still has posts and highlights up from when he was the captain of the Nekoma volleyball team. His skin goes warm at the thought of you stalking him, checking his pictures, probably doing your absolute best not to like anything. Fine; two can play at that game.
With the curiosity biting at him, he goes to Instagram. But when he searches your name up, nothing shows up. Did she unblock me, then block me again? Kuroo checks his Blocked Profiles to confirm his theory, but what he sees leaves him even more puzzled.
He only unblocked your contact number. As for your Instagram account, you’re still blocked on his phone.
Who the hell are you?