𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 | 𝐊. 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀

# fourty

#40 | KEEP IT PROFESSIONAL

It was a normal week at work, nothing out of the ordinary—until your coach pulled you aside after practice.

"Y/N," he said, his tone brisk as he shuffled through some papers. "You've got a meeting in ten minutes. Potential sponsor. Big deal."

"A sponsor?" you repeated, already feeling the weight of responsibility settle on your shoulders.

"Yeah," he confirmed, barely looking up. "Meeting room A. And look sharp."

You nodded, already making your way to the locker room. Thanks to your recent promotion, your responsibilities now included managing the team's operations, which meant balancing practice with office work. You quickly changed out of your practice gear into the neat set of office clothes you'd started keeping in your locker—a pressed white blouse and tailored black trousers.

As you tucked the blouse into your waistband and adjusted the blazer over your shoulders, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your hair was a little disheveled, the faintest hint of sweat still clinging to your temples. Grabbing a comb from your bag, you smoothed down the strands, pinning back a few to keep your appearance polished.

It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do. You straightened your posture, grabbed your tablet, and headed for the meeting room, mentally preparing yourself for the usual routine—polite smiles, a firm handshake, and a well-rehearsed pitch.

What you weren't prepared for was the person waiting inside.

Kenma.

He sat at the long table, his golden-brown eyes flicking up from his phone the moment you entered. For a brief moment, the air seemed to leave the room.

"Y/N," he said, his voice calm but carrying an edge of surprise.

You froze in the doorway, your tablet clutched tightly to your chest. "Kenma?"

He stood, his movements deliberate as he placed his phone on the table. "You're... the representative?"

"No, I'm—" You gestured vaguely. "I'm just here to hear the pitch. You're the sponsor?"

Kenma gave a small nod. "Bouncing Ball Corp. is looking to sponsor MSBY. I thought it made sense... given our history."

His words hung in the air, the weight of them pressing down on your chest. "Right," you said, forcing yourself to move further into the room. "Let's... get started."

You sat across from him, the table feeling like a vast chasm separating you. For the next few minutes, the two of you managed to keep things strictly professional. Kenma outlined the terms of the sponsorship while you asked a few clarifying questions.

But the tension was palpable, an undercurrent neither of you could ignore. Every now and then, your eyes would meet, and you'd quickly look away, the memories of your shared past lingering like ghosts in the room.

When the meeting wrapped up, you stood to leave, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere.

"Y/N."

His voice stopped you in your tracks. You turned back to face him, your hand resting on the door handle. "Yeah?"

"Can we talk later?" he asked, his tone softer now, almost hesitant.

You frowned. "Talk about what?"

"About... us. About everything."

The vulnerability in his voice caught you off guard. For a moment, you considered brushing him off, avoiding the conversation altogether. But something in his expression made you pause.

"Fine," you said finally, your voice quieter than you intended. "After work."

The hours dragged by after practice, your mind racing as you replayed the earlier meeting. By the time Kenma's car pulled up outside, your nerves were frayed.

The sleek black car was as understated as Kenma himself, and as you climbed in, you were immediately hit by the faint scent of his cologne—a clean, subtle fragrance that was distinctly him.

"Thanks for picking me up," you said, your voice stiff as you fastened your seatbelt.

He nodded, his focus on the road as he pulled away. "It's no problem."

The silence stretched between you, heavy and oppressive. You stared out the window, the city lights blurring into streaks of gold and white.

"So," you said finally, breaking the quiet. "What did you want to talk about?"

Kenma glanced at you briefly before returning his eyes to the road. "The party. Last week."

Your stomach flipped, and you immediately averted your gaze to the passing city lights. "What about it?"

"What Takeda said to you," he began, his tone careful, "and... everything after."

You could still feel the sting of Takeda's words, the humiliation that had crawled under your skin. But it wasn't just Takeda—it was everything else, too. Kenma standing up for you. The conversation outside. The way his jacket had felt on your shoulders.

"I'm fine," you said, a little too quickly.

Kenma's lips pressed into a thin line. "Y/N, I know you're not. And it's okay if you're not."

The honesty in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn't know what to say.

"I... I appreciated what you did," you admitted quietly. "Back at the party. Standing up for me, and... everything else. It meant a lot."

Kenma nodded, his grip on the wheel tightening slightly. "I couldn't just stand there and let him talk to you like that."

A pause stretched between you before he spoke again, his voice softer this time. "Are we... good now? I mean, after everything?"

You turned to look at him, his profile illuminated by the faint glow of the dashboard lights. "I think so. Yeah."

His shoulders seemed to relax slightly at your words, but then he hesitated, his lips parting like he was searching for the right thing to say.

"Y/N," he said after a moment, his voice softer now. "I know we ended things on complicated terms. And I know I messed up back then. But... can we try again?"

Your breath hitched. The vulnerability in his voice, the way his eyes flicked to yours briefly before returning to the road—it was almost too much.

"We can take things slow," he added, his fingers flexing on the wheel. "I'll take you out on a date. Just one. If it doesn't work, we can go back to being... whatever this is. But if it does..."

He trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid.

For a long moment, you didn't respond, your thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess. Part of you wanted to say no, to protect yourself from the risk of getting hurt again. But another part—a quieter, more hopeful part—wanted to say yes.

"Okay," you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. "We can try."

Kenma glanced at you, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Saturday, then?"

You nodded, your heart pounding as you turned your gaze back to the road ahead. Saturday awaited—a date that carried the weight of your shared past and the fragile hope of something new.

────── end of chapter ──────

▸ Will you guys date again despite how it ended last time?

authors note:

merry christmas to those who celebrate, to the rest of you have a good day :3

i appreciate any votes+comments. stay safe, healthy, and hydrated :D + take care of your mental health!!!