Fuyukawa was about to tell Izumi Himawari to head home, but when he saw her in her volleyball outfit, all sweaty and vibrant, he paused, closed his mouth, and crossed his arms to watch instead.
It wasn't just because he was a guy appreciating the view—though her heart-shaped curves bouncing around were hard to ignore. It was more that…
"Exercise really is the best way to blow off steam," he thought, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he watched her, eyes sparkling with the kind of excitement only sports could bring. Honestly, there weren't many people he cared about in this world. Sayoko was number one, followed by Miyano Mitei, that bold yet alluring black rose. And then… this kid right here.
He didn't say anything, just stood there soaking in the youthful energy of the gym. It felt nice. But soon, he was completely thrown off.
"Um… can I get your Line ID?" a shy voice asked.
"?"
Fuyukawa glanced at the blushing girl in front of him, then at her group of giggling friends egging her on from behind. He couldn't help but chuckle inwardly, caught off guard. The gym's lively vibe must've rubbed off on him because he flashed a gentle, squinting smile. "Sorry, I've got a kid."
"A kid?!"
The girl froze, her face a mix of shock and disbelief. She covered her face and scurried back to her friends by the wall, who erupted in gasps. Their eyes locked on Fuyukawa, filled with a "damn, I was born five years too late" kind of regret.
It was a funny reaction, and Fuyukawa, arms still crossed, stifled a laugh. But before he could fully enjoy the moment, a pair of warm, sweaty hands grabbed his cheeks.
"Flirting the second you show up, huh? Pervy old man!" Izumi Himawari shot him a playful glare, dripping with sweat. She casually leaned her elbow on his abs, chugging from a water bottle with her other hand. Her expression was relaxed, but her sharp eyes scanned the girls by the wall, almost like she was… staking her claim.
Her cocky pose didn't last long, though. She squeezed the half-empty water bottle too hard, and—
"Cough, cough! Agh! You jerk!" Water sprayed her face, shattering her cool facade. She yanked her white T-shirt collar to shake off the droplets, yelling at Fuyukawa, but mid-sentence, he pinched her soft, mochi-like cheeks.
"You said 5:30, kid. What time is it now? And your phone's off," Fuyukawa said, his "kind" squinting smile back as he shoved his watch in her face.
"I got caught up playing volleyball, okay?! Let go! People are watching!" Izumi whined, her cheeks still squished.
The usually aloof, cool-girl senpai of the school was losing it—not from embarrassment, but from shyness.
Shy as hell!
Her little fists pounded Fuyukawa's chest.
The gym's eyes were on them. Seeing the popular, untouchable Izumi acting so chummy with a random handsome guy was a shock. From the basketball court, Fuyukawa could practically hear hearts breaking in the distance. But he didn't care. Pinching her mochi cheeks, he just grinned down at her.
"Old perv!" Izumi's face flushed as she felt his masculine presence closing in. They'd known each other long enough for her to know he was waiting for something.
Shy as hell!
Under the gym's collective stare, her heart raced with embarrassment. But as Fuyukawa leaned closer, her big, watery eyes shimmered, and she mumbled, voice barely audible, "Okay, I messed up…"
"That's more like it." Fuyukawa rolled his eyes and let go.
But the second he did—
"You jerk! You left me alone at home on New Year's, and you're mad I made you wait a little?!" Izumi snapped, rubbing her bouncy cheeks. Her shyness morphed into a pouty glare.
Her outburst was loud, and the crowd—especially the guys—froze.
At home?
Are they… living together?!
Izumi had been at Tokiwadai High for three years, about to graduate. Her family background wasn't a secret to those who cared to know. Everyone crushing on her knew she didn't have an older brother or some super-close uncle.
All eyes turned to Fuyukawa, but he ignored them, stunned by her reasoning. Her sudden shout, followed by her darting back to the court like a startled bird, left him blinking.
"This kid…" he muttered, his surprise softening into warmth.
Guess I'll stick around a bit longer today.
Smiling, he shook his head and pulled out his phone to text Sayoko. Just then—
Thud, thud, thud.
A basketball rolled to his feet.
"Hey, mister, wanna play? We're short a guy," a voice called.
"?"
Fuyukawa, mid-text, looked up to see a sturdy kid in a No. 23 James jersey, flashing an inviting smile.
Play ball? In his black trench coat, white shirt, jeans, and Martin boots? He didn't exactly scream "ready for hoops."
But then he caught the kid's barely hidden hostility and the way his eyes kept flicking toward Izumi. Fuyukawa raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his gaze. The crowd buzzed.
"No way, Haruyama's going for it?!"
"Is he nuts?!"
"Of course he is! If he doesn't step up now, his goddess is gonna end up someone else's. But with the way Izumi looked at that guy? Haruyama's got no shot. At best, he'll make the hot guy lose some face."
"Tch, this dude's in for it. Didn't Haruyama get scouted by Tsukuba University's basketball team?"
"Yeah, they say he's got a shot at the national Olympic team. But it's pointless. Even if he wins, Izumi's tsundere vibe might just make her feel protective of the guy. Haruyama's done for."
"Wah, is this the final howl of a defeated dog? Haruyama's youth is over before it began."
"Burn what's left of it, Haruyama!"
"…"
What a mess of chatter.
Listening to the crowd's nonsense and seeing Haruyama's "at least I tried for my youth!" expression, Fuyukawa's forehead creased with annoyance.
Sure, he loved basketball back in school—played on the provincial team, even. With his system-enhanced physique, he was confident he could school this cocky high schooler. But… beating up a 17- or 18-year-old kid?
Not exactly thrilling.
He was about to brush it off when he caught Izumi's big, shy, expectant eyes watching him.
"…"