Chapter 2

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Days had passed, and Y/N and Yuki were finally settling into their routine at Fukurodani Academy. The first week flew by in a blur of new classes, new faces, and the general chaos that came with being first-year students. Y/N, however, had one nagging thought that refused to go away: Where is that pretty boy?

She hadn't seen him since the entrance ceremony, which left her feeling oddly frustrated. Not that she was actively looking for him, of course. She wasn't the type to chase after boys, especially not one she had only seen once. But still... it would've been nice to bump into him. Maybe even find out his name. But no, no, focus on school. Pretty boys can't raise your grades.

After school, Yuki headed off to her cultural club, while Y/N made her way to the art club. She liked the idea of the art club—quiet, peaceful, and best of all, it didn't require her to talk to people. Perfect. Today, their teacher gave them free rein to draw or paint whatever they wanted, so Y/N sat at her desk, pencil in hand, staring at the blank paper in front of her.

What should I draw? She tapped the pencil against her lips, waiting for inspiration to strike. Maybe I could just draw a tree... or a flower... Her eyes drifted toward the window, and that's when she saw him.

The gym was nearby, and through the large windows, she spotted him—the pretty boy. He was with a group of other boys who were obviously volleyball players. They were practicing, moving swiftly around the court, but Y/N's eyes were glued to him. There he was again, with that calm, focused expression, his dark hair slightly tousled, and those striking gunmetal blue eyes.

Is he a volleyball player? she wondered, her heart skipping a beat as she continued to stare. He was graceful in a way she hadn't expected, his movements fluid and precise.

Y/N was mesmerized, so much so that she didn't realize how long she'd been staring. It wasn't until he disappeared from view that she snapped out of it. She blinked and looked down at her blank paper. Without thinking, her hand began to move.

Well, looks like I'm drawing him.

The details flowed naturally—the way his hair fell across his forehead, those intense eyes, the calm expression he always seemed to have. Her sketch was surprisingly accurate, considering she'd only seen him twice.

Less than thirty minutes later, she was done. Y/N smiled at her work, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment. Maybe this school year won't be so bad after all, she thought as she packed her things.

As she left the art room, Yuki was already waiting for her by the door. "Finally!" Yuki said, stretching her arms. "Let's head out. I have an idea! Let's take the long route home so we can pass by the gym. I hear the volleyball team is practicing."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. The gym? The volleyball team? The pretty boy? She tried to keep her voice steady as she replied, "Uh, sure, why not."

The two of them strolled casually past the gym, Yuki chatting about her day while Y/N stole quick glances through the gym windows. Sure enough, there he was—again—the pretty boy. His team was in full practice mode now, and they were so loud that Yuki couldn't help but pause.

"Wow, they're intense!" Yuki said, her eyes widening as she watched a particularly loud boy with spiky hair spike the ball. "That guy looks like he's having the time of his life."

Y/N didn't respond. Her eyes were on him. As they continued walking, Y/N felt her heart race. And then it happened—he looked up, and their eyes met.

Oh no.

Y/N's heart nearly stopped as she made eye contact with him. For a split second, she froze. What do I do? Her face heated up, and she quickly glanced away, speeding up her pace to catch up with Yuki.

Did he see me staring?! Her thoughts raced in a panic. Oh no, he definitely saw me staring! What if he thinks I'm a weirdo?

As Y/N hurried ahead, she didn't notice that her bag was unzipped. A single piece of paper—the drawing of the pretty boy—floated out, carried by the breeze straight toward the gym.

Inside the gym, Akaashi Keiji blinked as he watched the girl—the same girl from the entrance ceremony—speed away after their brief eye contact. That was odd.

But then, something caught his eye. A paper was flying across the court, landing right by the gym door. He jogged over to retrieve it, thinking it might be something important. As he picked it up, he froze.

It was a sketch. Of him.

Akaashi blinked in surprise. The sketch was detailed and incredibly well-done, capturing his expression perfectly. At the bottom of the drawing, there was a small signature. "L/N Y/N," it read.

"Oi, Akaashi!" Bokuto's loud voice interrupted his thoughts as the boisterous spiker bounded over, along with the rest of their teammates—Konoha, Sarukui, and Washio.

"What's that you got there?" Konoha asked, leaning over to take a look. His eyes widened, and then a huge grin spread across his face. "Oh, ho ho! Is that you? Dude, you've got yourself a fangirl!"

Akaashi's calm expression didn't waver, but internally he was slightly flustered. "It's not like that. This just... fell out of her bag."

Konoha raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Sure, sure. Just a random sketch of you fell out of her bag. No big deal, right?"

Bokuto snatched the drawing and examined it. "It's really good though! She captured your whole cool, calm vibe perfectly!"

Akaashi sighed, taking the paper back. "I'll give it back to her on Monday. It's the right thing to do."

Meanwhile, Y/N had made it home and collapsed onto her bed, still thinking about her embarrassing eye contact moment. Why do I keep staring at him? What if he noticed?

As she reached for her sketchbook, her heart sank. The drawing was gone.

Wait. Where's the drawing?!

Her eyes widened in horror. No, no, no. Don't tell me I lost it! She frantically searched her bag and her room, but it was nowhere to be found.

"Oh no," Y/N groaned, slapping a hand over her face. It flew out somewhere! What if someone finds it? What if people think I'm some sort of creepy stalker?!

She sat on her bed, overwhelmed by panic. I can't go back to school and look for it! What if someone already picked it up? What if the pretty boy finds it and realizes it's him?! Oh no. Oh no! This is the worst possible thing that could happen!

She buried her face in her pillow, her mind spinning with anxiety. Maybe... maybe it's already gone. It probably blew away into the bushes or something. No one will ever find it. She nodded to herself, trying to calm down. Right. It's totally fine. It's probably crumpled somewhere, never to be seen again. Definitely.

But deep down, she couldn't shake the sinking feeling that someone had found it. And Monday was fast approaching...

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