Over The Fence - Kuroo Tetsurō

6 | The Dining Area

     "So is this what you do in your free time? Just coop yourself up in your room all day and make scribbles? You know, girls as pretty as you should nice their time out in the sunshine. Kinda show off their physiques. Play sports or something..." Kuroo drawled out from my bed as I finished my third canvas sketch. He definitely made himself comfortable in the place.

     How he got here? Well, he decided to pop in for a visit cause' he had "nothing to do, anyway." Personally, I find it quite irking to have him bounce in and out of my place whenever he pleased. Besides, I think I deserve a day of peace and quiet. Preferably without my agent nagging about deadlines; or my mother who --as much as I do love her-- keeps going on with questions like, "when are you getting married? I need grandchildren stat!" and such; if not either of them, it's Lennon (or Berkley) being lesser of a pain in the ass.

     Speaking of the obese furball, he had started becoming civil towards the volleyball player and had napped beside the twenty-four year old man.

     He expertly played catch by himself using the plushie he had 'given' me. What do they call that in volleyball again? Spike? Tch, whatever... I've never been good with excercise, sports, and the like. To another point, I also hated the sunlight.

    Kuroo sat up from his previous lying position and stared at the back of my head. From all my forgetten moments with him, he must've known how much I hated that. So far, he had used the tactic whenever I focus too hard on my work or whenever I'm ignoring him.

     This may seem normal to other people but to me, gaining attention is pure torture. There was a reason why I chose to be a freelancer artist who made snippet comics instead of a full-blown mangaka. Although I had the capabilities of one, too much attention felt as if I was being stripped naked. Thus, being stared at already seemed like someone was drilling holes at the back of my head. This is exhausting.

     Without a choice to oppose, I answered after a sigh. "Technically today's my work day. Oh! And these aren't scribbles, Kuroo. They're sketches."

     Kuroo. Simply calling him by his first name threw water down my fire. He barged in the apartment shortly before breakfast and since then, he had bugged me into leaving out the honorifics. I merely complied out of annoyance.

     He had opened the idea of simply calling him by his first name "like how he Westerners do."This would've been fine if we were super-mega-best-friends close or Westerners, but we're neither the two.

     Kuroo might think we're still inseparable as ever. But to me, he and I aren't anything at all. Perhaps we're friends, yes-- or rather, recently reunited acquaintances, but we aren't as tight-knitted as he wants us to be. Or used to be... Whichever is easier to understand.

     Even if I might have some feelings for him. I undeniably developed a little crush on the guy. But putting my feelings aside, adamant as he is that he knows so much about me due to our previous bond, I'm still on the blindside. As much as I would like--no, love to become whatever he wanted us to be, I can't just pretend I could simply have a do-over on the past relationship simply because he thinks that together we're like a two headed lizard.

     He said so himself that he wanted me to remember. Until then, I couldn't just play along to this forced calm and comfortable atmosphere he's cooking up. Hah! The irony... Forced and calm. They're stark opposites that show just how desperately he wants me to remember.

     Admittedly as I speak, nothing he's done has ever been led to vain. In spite of his scraping, I have had the chance of learning more about him. The longer he peeks into my walls, the more I've gotten a picture of who Kuroo Tetsurō is.