Assumptions | Kise x OC

07 | NOT Successful

07 | NOT Successful

A basketball hits the rim and flings off sideways, nowhere near close to making a point. I groan in frustration and chase after it like a dog fetching a frisbee. How does the basketball team make this look so easy? I've watched them score two- and three-pointers millions of times. Shouldn't I should have picked up some of their skills?

Earlier today, the gym teacher announced we'd be focusing on basketball this unit. At first I was excited because hey, I had experience with the sport. That excitement died right after when I remembered how I'd played that sport for exactly one day before quitting.

And, well, I'm no Lebrun James. Dribbling, who? Making baskets, who? I only know running back and forth to make it look like I'm playing without ever touching the ball.

I know I'm screwed the moment the teacher starts grading us based on performance instead of participation. The problem is that I have to get an A here to maintain my A in the class. If I don't, Mom will have my head served on a platter for wolves to feast upon. We're Asians, not Bsians, she says. Be perfect or be nothing.

I pick up the basketball and stand there for a second, frowning at it. It's always been that way at my house. If you're not the best, you're not worth talking about. It's why Hana is their favorite daughter, and it's why I'm always ignored. I'm not even dumb or anything like that, I'm just not a genius.

My body aches in pain from being smacked around by loose basketballs. It's not a coincidence that I was the target of stray passes made by other students, especially with how they giggled when the 'accidents' happened. I hate how the name-calling has escalated into this.

Maybe the upperclassmen can help me get better at basketball? It'd be a nice payment for the hell I'm about to go through trying to tutor Kise. Just the thought of it makes me groan.

Stupid Kise. My anger for him only intensifies when I get to the library and see it's flooded with Kill Club girls. They're huddled in groups all around the place, whispering to each other excitedly. Kise, however, is missing.

My phone buzzes.

Kasamatsu

Kise's fans found out he was going to the library. Meet him in 2B.

Ok

Classroom 2B sits on the second floor overlooking the courtyard, completely vacant if you ignore the annoying basketball player in it. Kise plays on his phone and doesn't bother to look up at me as I shut the door behind myself then take a seat at the desk beside him.

"You're late," he says, rolling his eyes as he sets his phone down.

I try not to snap back at him as I reply, "Kasamatsu-senpai just texted me that we're meeting here instead of the library."

Kise lets out an exaggerated sigh of woe and pulls out his folders. He shoves them into my hands, explaining, "This is what we're doing in class. I don't get it. Why do we have to learn English if we live in Japan?"

"Because English is like the most commonly spoken language in the world." I don't have to glance up from reading his assignments to know he's making faces. "And you're a model, aren't you? Lots of photographers speak English. You should be able to talk to them."

"Oh, you know I'm a model?" It's amazing how much he perks up now that the topic pertains to him.

"I'd have to be dumb, blind, and deaf not to. It's all I ever hear around here."