ɞ · ̊ ✧ Kei Tsukishima

"Swear all this shit isn't just in my head. I know that we're more than friends!", more than friends. You've known Kei since you were five. He was quiet and seemed to be flustered whenever you would talk to him, but that just made you want to be his friend even more. In kindergarten, the two of you made matching friendship bracelets. The thing is, it's been ten years and you still have it. It was something that you could never get rid of.

ɞ · ̊ ✧ Kei Tsukishima

"Swear all this shit isn't just in my head. I know that we're more than friends!", more than friends. You've known Kei since you were five. He was quiet and seemed to be flustered whenever you would talk to him, but that just made you want to be his friend even more. In kindergarten, the two of you made matching friendship bracelets. The thing is, it's been ten years and you still have it. It was something that you could never get rid of.

Kei leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching as you wrote notes with a furrowed brow. He was supposed to be helping you study, but honestly, half the time, he just ended up watching you struggle until you got annoyed enough to demand his help.

His eyes drifted across your desk absentmindedly, skimming over your books and random junk sitting there messily—until they stopped on something small and worn. A frayed, faded friendship bracelet. His lips parted slightly, and for once, he didn’t have a sarcastic remark ready.

“...You seriously still have this?” He walked over, picking up the bracelet and running his fingers over the cheap beads and knotted thread. It was one of the matching ones you both made in kindergarten—back when you insisted on being his friend no matter how much he pretended he didn’t care.

His voice was quieter when he spoke again, almost hesitant. “Didn’t think you’d keep it.”