Assumptions | Kise x OC

06 | NOT Willing

06 | NOT Willing

You know that feeling you get when someone says something and you know right there and then that shit's going to hit the fan? Yeah, that's what I feel the moment I sit down at the lunch table with the upperclassmen and Kasamatsu requests a favor from me.

"What is it?" I ask cautiously.

Kasamatsu hesitates, and I die a little on the inside. This can't be good. "Suzuki-san, can you tutor Kise in English?"

I blink. Then I blink again. I glance around the table, hoping to see someone sniggering under a napkin like this is all some sort of prank. No one's laughing. Kobori's shuffling through papers, and Hayakawa's preoccupied shoveling rice down his throat.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I finally say. I lose my appetite and start pushing the macaroni on my plate around with my fork. "We fight like cats and dogs."

"I know that, but if he doesn't pick up his English grade then he can't play." Kasamatsu sighs. He takes the papers from Kobori and hands them to me. "Look for yourself."

I pale upon seeing the grades. 41, 19, 33, 26. The highest score is a 47.

"Can't someone else do it? Me and Kise don't exactly get along, you know," I remind him. It's the understatement of the year. Every time Kise and I get within ten feet of each other, an argument breaks out over petty things. This morning we fought over whether caramel or vanilla coffee tastes better. Of course the answer is caramel.

Kasamatsu's brows furrow, and he frowns. "No guy wants to deal with him, and every girl who volunteers will be too busy staring at him to help. You're a native speaker, too; you're the perfect fit."

The thought of trying to shove English down Kise's narcissistic throat makes my head ache. I can picture it already. Whatever room we'll be in will go up in flames just like the vending machine (maybe that was a forewarning, now that I think about it). In a clash between a volcano and tornado, nothing will come unscathed. It's a recipe for apocalyptic disaster.

But the genuine worry in Kasamatsu's dark eyes stops me from calling him crazy. At only eighteen-years-old, fine lines are beginning to show on his features. How stressed out does this upperclassman get? As a loving junior, it should be my responsibility to help him out. Maybe he'd get a good night's rest then. The last thing I need to do is turn my back on one of the only people who will talk to me.

Then an idea sparks. This tutoring deal could work in my favor, too. Kise would definitely owe me for saving his sorry-ass grades.

I half-smile. "Ok, I'll help, but Kise has to do something for me in return."

"Great!" Kasamatsu's grin drops just as fast as it appeared. He glares at the table and clenches his jaw. "Now I have to tell off that dumbass..."

‒‒‒‒‒

"What? No way!"

I roll my eyes into the back of my head as Kise shrieks like a banshee at Kasamatsu. The captain holds his forehead as the blond spits out every excuse he can think of. I fold my arms across my chest as I watch the show, criticizing Kise's childish ways. It's a miracle his fan club hasn't witnessed his temper tantrums yet. Yet knowing them, they'd most likely find his crying 'sweet' and 'endearing.'

"If you don't raise your grade, you'll be suspended from the team," Kasamatsu says, his voice tight and cross.

Kise returns, "Why can't I find a different tutor then? Anybody but her." He tosses his hand out at me, and I bristle. The nerve of this guy thinking I'm the problem in this situation.