If someone would've told Hayami that she'd became the manager of a volleyball team she wouldn't have believed them.
And there she was.
Becoming a manager, a teammate, a friend, a sister.
But mostly, an ice skater.
A strong one.
A National Star.
She...
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"Huh?"
"What?"
"You're up early."
"You too."
"I went practicing."
"Guessed."
"What's your excuse?"
His eyes avoided hers, "Couldn't sleep."
Hayami narrowed her eyes, "Liar."
"Shut up."
"You stayed up playing video games all night?"
"I couldn't sleep."
They stared at each other for a whole minute before Hayami broke down laughing, tossing him the wet towel around her neck, the banana smell of her hair mask invading his nostrils.
"Incredible," she walked past him, taking off the towel in the process and surprising him by cupping his cheeks, stamping a delicate kiss on his soft skin, coloring it with a red tint, "breakfast?"
Kenma didn't know why, but his body moved on his own, his arm stretching out, stopping the girl by placing his hand on her hip, pulling her closer; this time was her turn to look surprised.
"Whoa, maybe you should sleep less more often", she joked, breaking the light tension, positioning one hand over his shoulder.
Returning to his usual self, but still a bit confident, he gave her a small smile, pushing her toward the kitchen, "Shut up."
"I kinda like the sound of my voice blabbering to annoy you," she confessed, walking backward, now both her hands on his shoulders, while he never took off his finger from her shirt, rolling his eyes, conducting her and avoiding all the obstacles in the hall, "don't you?"
"No, hate that," his lips were smirking, his eyes half-closed, like a cat accurately studying her, "never heard anything worse."
She wanted to erase that smirk out of his face, "Mean. Fucking mean."
"I guess," he let his hand slip on her back, pulling her closer, "and what we can do about it?"
Little bitch, she thought, shaking her head and deciding to hit him back with the same bullet.
She stood on her tiptoes, slowly circling his neck with her arms, "I don't know, any suggestion?"
Little bitch, he thought, sensing her game.
"Fuck off," he decided to give her the victory that time, trying to push her back, not expecting her to not let go, taking him with her, "Yami...", he faked complaining, accepting the hug she was giving him, patting her back with both his hands.
"You let me win without a real fight!", that was a real complaint, "Not fun!", she stepped back, pinching both his cheeks, "Next time don't chicken out!"
