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Sometimes people do things without reason to give themselves reason.

It’s a bit of a strange thought, but it’s really the only thing that makes sense to you in this situation right now at lease.

You watch your notebook go sailing across the hallway floor, sliding like a hockey puck until it smacks with finality against the opposite wall. You stare, still on your hands and knees from where you’d been about to pick it up and feel an incoming sigh well up in your lungs, hefty and full of power.

The sigh leaves your lips, nothing but a quiet, big gust of air. It does nothing compared to the racket of laughter filling the hall, shrill giggles that make you wonder if your own laugh sounds like that. You pray not.

In a perfect world, you imagine yourself turning your head to the trio of girls behind you—always in threes, isn’t it?—turning around to face their laughter with a disgusted frown and opening your mouth and spitting out, “ What the hell is your problem?” They’d probably turn white as ghosts and go screaming for the hills.

But the girls don’t go screaming for the hills. They continue to laugh and those words never leave your lips. They can’t, anyway, and your notebook is all the way at the other end of the hall since one of them sent it flying with a good kick. You remain there on your knees, staring after it for a long while before you turn back to the three girls.

They smile at you, bright, glossy sneers pulled over their lips. 

You’re not really sure what it is but you think this is where you hypothesis comes into play—bullying doesn’t quite make sense, but at a school like Shiratorizawa where the students are rich and wonderful and have mostly met the hierarchy of needs necessary for a good life—they get bored. And when students are bored their minds wander, their hands wander, and their eyes wander too, all the way until they land on the girl who never says a word in the corner of their class they like to call a freak even though her problem isn’t freakish—it’s perfectly diagnosable. When people get bored they sometimes need a reason to remind themselves they exist, even if there really is no reason for that at all.

“Oh, sorry,” the first one says, exactly the way they would in a drama—it’s a little amazing, actually. Maybe art imitates life more than you thought. “We didn’t see it there.”

“You shouldn’t just crawl on the floor like that,” another says. “What if someone tripped over you?”

“You look sad like that,” the last one says, pitifully. “Need some help?”

You gaze at them for a long moment, meeting their eyes in silence. They snicker, putting hands daintily over their mouths. They’re the annoying types who like to make sure their arm sleeves are folded up nice and neat so everyone can see the ink black words scrawled out on their skin, make sure it’s not hindered at all, bold and visible.

They start shooting each other looks. “Can you believe her?” they say to each other. “Look at her, oh my god. Is she for real?” and “Wow, this is so sad. We should stop.”

But they’re bored, so of course they’re not going to stop.

It’s useless, but you move your fingers anyways, aggressively shifting your hands in the air.

No, thanks. You can scram you pieces of shit. I’m tired of choking on your perfume. ” 

It’s quite a hefty amount of words leaving your fingers. They take it as your way of feebly apologizing or saying something that fits their narrative and they giggle, turning on their heels and leaving you behind. This probably won’t be the last you see of them, not until graduation, but that’s fine.

It’s just one more year.

You wait until they disappear around the corner and finally stand up, brushing dust off your skirt and your knees. You stare at the floor for a few minutes, thinking up words and sentences in your head and using the memory of voices you like to imagine your own voice sounding just like that—telling them off and giving them a scare.

“W-What? You’re not mute? Oh my god!”

Yeah. You think, scoffing in silence at yourself. As if.

You feel a bit more resentful than usual even though this isn’t really anything new. They’ve done worse; tripping you in the halls or shoving you on their way to their desks. You’re just a picture perfect target in their pitifully cliche world to give them more meaning to their otherwise useless lives.

When you think of it in such a haughty manner, it does make you feel a bit better. Just a bit, because this still sucks.

You shake your head, reluctant to go get your notebook but knowing you need to do it anyway. You rub the etched, pale marking on your wrist for reassurance and start the long trek down the hall, keeping your eyes on the floor.

If it gets anymore annoying or anymore physical, you’ll bring it up to the teachers. You hate the thought of getting the staff involved but you’re not stupid enough to let them get bold enough to shove you down some stairs and risk your life. Who knew what the hell these pigeons were capable of? You’d just be the sad, bullied mute kid telling on the teachers but who cared?

No one.

Your stickered notebook pops up in your vision, grinning food stickers beaming back up at you. You blink, briefly terrified for a second before your head quickly snaps upwards.

His shocking red hair juts up in your field of vision first, followed by the easy, sneaky looking slant of his eyes and the almost perched little way his lips curve up into a tiny, peckish smile. Beside his face he throws up a giant peace sign with his two fingers.

“Hiyah,” he says, grinning cheekily at you. “This is yours, rrrrriiiiggghhhtt?”

He’s in your class, you realize, mind racing. Tendou, I think. He’s on the volleyball team and he sits two chairs behind you. You remember all this because you always collect the papers up at the front and see his name, messy and hurried. And he talks a lot too. He’s loud and laughs and teases people all the time in class—you watch him sometimes because you’re a bit jealous of how much he talks, how much he’s able to talk, shifting the tone of his voice in all these little creative ways, whether because he’s making fun of someone or just answering a question.

He feels like someone who really, really makes good use of his voice. Makes sure it's used, you mean. Doesn’t waste it.

You like that.

Tendou flaps the book once in front of you. You blink, quickly nodding and reaching out to take it.

He holds it up over his head, grinning down at you.

You stare up at him in disbelief, feeling your stomach sink.

Not him too. You knew he was notorious for being disliked amongst some of your peers—people tended to forget you were mute, not deaf—and he teased people however he liked. He was a generally tough nut to figure out no matter how you looked at it, but you never took him for a small time school bully either.

Disheartened, you wordlessly look up at him, frowning. Tendou continues to smile, holding your notebook over his head.

“Is that what you say to someone who helps you?” he says. “Nooooothing?”

I can’t. You mouth, pressing your hands to your mouth. I can’t. Sorry. You move your lips, exaggerating how you mouth the words. Thank you. Please give it back.

“Nope!” Tendou says. “Try again.”

He’s ridiculously tall. He really must be good at volleyball too. There’s no way you’re getting it with a measly jump. Your hand clenches into a fist at your side, your free hand twitching on instinct to sign out your words but you wordlessly try mouthing them at him again, feeling your frustration bubble up useless into your throat.

“Come on, I know you can do it,” Tendou says cheerfully. You clench your fist harder. His free hand moves sloppily in the air in front of you, waving his fingers in a lazy sort of manner that matches the easy look on his face, amused. “Try again!”

Wait a minute.

Your eyes quickly hone in on his free hand, staring at him in stunned disbelief. Tendou’s smile widens and he moves his hand again, shifting his fingers. With purpose. Not uselessly. You stare at Tendou’s hand, eyes growing round in shock. Your jaw drops and you look back at Tendou.

“Try,” Tendou signs and says, grinning like an imp, “Again!”

Your hands quickly move, “Thank you.”

Tendou drops your notebook right into yours hands, grinning. You stare, stunned and disbelieving, a part of you realizing he signs terribly—he must’ve just learned—and Tendou throws his hands behind his head with a whistle. “There ya go! You’re not so mute now, are ya!”

Your eyes shoot up to Tendou’s but he’s already turning, waving his hand at you and disappearing around the hall. “Bye bye (L/n)-chan!”

You’re still standing in the hallway like an idiot, staring at the spot where Tendou had been in disbelief.

Tendou, the loud, tall, bright red-head kid in your class, the same kid you never saw yourself ever communicating with, the same kid who was on your school’s top notch volleyball team, the same kid who made fun of people and scared others off and only hung out with his team—

Knew how to sign? A bit? Badly?

You blink, stunned.

Huh?


“Wow! This thing is practically empty!”

Your head shoots up in shock at the familiar voice, eyes going round as Tendou sits in the desk in front of you—it’s very much not his desk and you think you can see the bothered student at the front by the door, but his friends shoo him away from saying anything as Tendou continues to flip through your notebook. It’s nothing private—small questions to people or asking someone to hand you something when you couldn’t speak up or gesture. This notebook was the one you carted around to try and communicate with your classmates, hoping to start conversations and talk with them.

No one used it, so you didn’t either.

Tendou doesn’t look the slightest bit bothered, big and lanky and taking up all the space as he continues to flip through the notebook. He hums to himself, lips pursed in that funny little way of his until he gets to the empty pages.

You stare at him like some kind of exotic bird, a bit mystified by his presence.

“Say, (L/n)-chan,” Tendou says. “Isn’t this kind of sad? You even wrote Communication Notebook on this, but there’s not much communication going on, is there?”

You move your hands, signing, “ Not many people to talk to. It can’t be helped.”

Tendou’s eyes rapidly follow your hands and he squints, making a constipated face. You exhale quietly in amusement, signing again, slower, watching to see if he understands. Tendou’s face becomes unreadable and then he turns to you, lips pulled up into a massive, almost creepy grin.

 “(L/n)-chan, how bold! Didya just say you like me?”

You shake your head. Tendou blows a loud horse sigh through his lips, flapping them. He’s clearly upset you didn’t make more of a show of the whole joke. Instead, you take your notebook from his willing hands and write. “Sorry. I was wondering if you knew how to sign. There aren’t many people to talk to so it can’t be helped.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Tendou says, waving a hand. “I only learned a little to get your attention anyway. Makes sense~”

You stare at Tendou, stunned by his honesty.

“Aren’t ya bored of just sitting here all quiet?” Tendou asks. 

You write, “I guess.”

“Ugh. I’d get bored. I like talking, you know? It fills up the silence real nice. You know what I mean?”

Yes. I like it when you talk too.”

“That was supposed to be a joke. I was kinda making fun of you. (L/n)-chan are ya not good at picking up jokes too? Or are you just flirting with me?”

“No. It’s just how I feel.”

“Haha, okay, you weirdo! Why don’t you teach me some more sign language then, hmm? I bet you’ll get awful tired writing in that all day and I’m a pretty quick study~”

You stare at Tendou, lowering your book and frowning at him. Tendou continues to grin, his little perched lip look, sneaky and unassuming as he waggles his brows at you. You sort of understand why your classmates call him creepy, but it’s mostly from his heights and mannerisms more than anything else. Otherwise, Tendou Satori is just… another teenage boy.

You pinch your fingers together into an okay sign, still marveling at the strange creature in front of you.

Tendou’s eyes drift absently to the pale mark on your wrist and he grins, holding up his fingers in a peace sign, using it like scissors to cut your okay sign in half.

You stare at him.

“Sheesh, can’t get any reaction out of you, can I? What a tough crowd!”


This is the first time you’ve ever had class with Tendou. It’s your first time properly “talking” to him too. You know him from the announcements, from the rumours that spread here and there about his unsettling ways and most importantly, you see him on the screens when your school calls the students together to watch the boys’ volleyball team dominate Sendai’s qualifiers all over again.

Outside of staring at him from time to time and appreciating the way he talks, that day two weeks ago now in the hallway is still the first time the two of you have ever properly interacted. The day after that he approached you in class and now everyday since—Tendou talks to you.

And he talks a lot too.

Between classes he talks to you, sidling up with his lanky, swaying body like some kind of cowboy from a foreign western. He perches over and sprawls across your desk like the two of you have been friends for years, talking about school, about class, about your classmates even or this and that, but he mostly talks about you, anime, or volleyball.

He walks you between classes since the two of you mostly share each one and he stands or crouches by your desk, talking and talking while you frantically scribble or take a few minutes each class period to try to teach him new phrases and words. He didn’t lie about being a quick study, but he’s still sloppy so it’s funny to watch.

This whole thing is a bit bewildering, to be honest. You don’t know what prompted Tendou Satori to start talking to you and make such an emblazoned effort, but maybe it’s for something similar to why those three girls like to pick on you. For no real reason at all.

You don’t really mind it, to be honest. Reason or not—he’s an entirely welcome presence, jokes, teasing, and strangeness—all of it.

“Did you like this week’s Jump ?”

“Yes,” you sign and then switch to writing. “The new chapter for Chainsaw Man was good. It made me sad though.”

“Wow, wow, (L/n)-chan you like the gorey stuff, huh?” Tendou muses, tapping your book. “Scary! I thought you’d like We Never Learn better or one of the other ones.”

Act-Age is good,” you write. “I’m invested. Which one do you follow?

“The classics! One Piece! My Hero! All the typical, easy to understand, not too complicated—I’m just kidding, don’t you think Denji’s an idiot?”

Yes, but I like him too.

“(L/n)-chan, don’t tell me that’s your type of guy,” Tendou gasps, looking scandalized. “Uneducated perverts?”

No, ” you sign and then write, “ I like guys that seem hard to understand but aren’t.”

“Ugh, that sounds like a headache!” Tendou flops entirely onto your desk and you raise your notebook to write. “I can only talk about Jump with you, Wakatoshi said he won’t read it until the end of the season for us! Can you believe him?”

“Yes.

“Traitor! (L/n)-chan, you beautiful traitor~ How cruel~”

You turn your notebook over so Tendou can read it. He squints up at you.

“Not that I mind, but Tendou, is there a reason why you started talking to me?”

“The golden question!” Tendou shouts, not even trying to sit up. You move your notebook so you can see his face and Tendou just grins back up at you, looking satisfied. “Does there have to be one?”

You shake your head. Tendou hums, content. “Perfect! We’re on the same page then.”

Tendou nearly cracks the spine of his Jump that he leant to you, opening up the pages and holding it over both of your heads. You have to weasel awkwardly under his arm and crane your head to look up at what he’s looking at too, faces side by side and Tendou grins. “Now, what did you think about Promised Neverland’s finale?”


You stare at your empty shoe locker in silence, frowning at the sight of it.

The shoes that were supposed to be there no longer are. You stare at it for a moment longer, glancing down to your school slippers and then silently turning over to the trashcan a few feet away. You gaze at it for a long time before walking over to it with your head held high, ignoring the outburst of giggles and feigned gasps of disgust as you come to stand in front of it.

You tuck your notebook into your bag, lifting the lid of the bin up. Some students look over in confusion and several make faces as you roll up your sleeves, spotting your shoes under a heap of lunch trash and papers. The snickers and giggles grow louder and louder, a waste of the sound you wish you could emit yourself.

Flying super Satori kiiiiiiiiick!

A long leg snaps into view before a foot promptly smashes into the trash bin, knocking it sideways and spilling trash into the shoe locker entryway. Students jump aside, shouting in disgust while you gape in disbelief, staring at the pile of trash before your head snaps over to the criminal, eyes bulging.

Tendou stays crouched on the floor, sticking his tongue out and throwing you a peace sign from where he sort of crab walks beside you like some kind of creep, uncaring in how the other students gape at him like an alien. “How was that? Pretty cool, right? Ten points?”

You stare at Tendou, mouth slack.

His hands swipe out and he snatches your dirty shoes, shooting up to his full height and nearly forcing you to jump back in surprise. He grins at you, wiggling his brows before he grandly turns on his heels, your shoes in one hand while he loudly shouts with the other, “Oh, my goodness! Who made this mess? Someone better clean it up before a teacher comes!”

“Tendou, what the heck you crazy bastard? You’re the one who knocked it—”

“Sorry,” Tendou shouts in horrible English. “I don’t speak Japanese!”

“Tendou—”

Tendou snatches your hand with his free one, breaking out into a gleeful sprint. You hurry to keep up after his long, lunging legs, practically huffing in exertion while Tendou holds your dirty shoes and he tosses his head back and laughs and you stare at him in disbelief, throat constricting tightly as you leave the other students and noise behind.

The evening glow turns his hair fiery and redder. Tendou’s laugh seems almost insane and infectious at the same time. It makes you feel a little hysterical, chest growing tighter. You can’t hear anything else but your own pants and his racket of laughter.

He runs with you in tow all the way to the volleyball gym, right where the two of you normally part ways and he goes to practice and you go home.

Tendou tosses your shoes into the nearby watering sink with a flourish, twirling on his heel like he’s dancing for you and moving his lanky body in all sorts of funny ways before he tosses the spout on and watches the water pour over your shoes, humming.

You stare at his broad back. You stare at it for what feels like an eternity, panting heavily, shoulders and legs trembling because you don’t do sports like this monster of a young man in front of you. Tendou turns the water off and turns to you with a peckish grin, twirling a bandaged finger. “Out of breath already? You should get into better shape, (L/n)-chan!”

Tendou fishes your soaking shoes out from the trough, gives it a quick inspection before nodding, flapping them out with one hand while he casually continues speaking, “You know, now that I think about it, the name was a bit cheesy. Maybe something like, Flying Kick of Justice or maybe—”

You quietly hold your arms out in front of you, spreading them a bit. Tendou arches a brow, looking at you with his little impish smile.

You take a few meaningful steps forward. Tendou doesn’t move, staying still until your face collides with his chest and you wrap your arms around him. Tendou just continues to smile, looking amused while you raise your hands and sign above your head at him.

“Thank you.”

“Oh, (L/n)-chan,” Tendou sighs, but he throws one arm around you anyway, patting your head. “You’re so awkward. Lucky for you, I’m great at dealing with verbally stunted people. My best friend hardly speaks a word after all!”

The door to the volleyball gym slides open, revealing none other than the superstar himself—Ushijima Wakatoshi. Tendou blinks and you look over at the volleyball legend, blinking as well.

“Tendou,” Ushijima says. “Practice in two minutes.”

Without another word the door slides back shut. You stare at it while Tendou breaks out into laughter. “See! What did I tell you?”


It’s three months into this—hanging out, getting to know each other, learning, communicating, becoming friends with Tendou Satori that you first notice.

You hadn’t meant to look in the first place since you didn’t think about soulmates and what-not often, but it just happened when Tendou was playing with your hair, trying to arrange it into a set of funky looking braids and you’d caught a glimpse at both his wrists.

You reach out, grabbing both of them in surprise. Tendou blinks over the top of your head, sitting cross-legged on your bed— “(L/n)-chan, invite me over! Let’s play some video games or read manga!” and he lets you pull his arms closer, quickly inspecting his wrists.

You blink rapidly, a little stunned. You look again and again to make sure what you were seeing wasn’t wrong and Tendou hums in amusement above you, letting you finish up until you finally look back at him, hands moving to sign, quick and clear.

“Tendou, you…” you pause, unable to finish moving your fingers.

“I don’t have a mark! You’re not crazy, don’t worry,” Tendou says, finishing it for you. He proudly shows off his bare wrists and you stare at them a second longer before looking back to his face, brows creasing in worry. “Aw, don’t make that face, (L/n)-chan, you’ll get wrinkles!”

You know it’s possible, people not getting marks. Most people are all born with them—the first words your soulmate is supposed to say to you tattooed in simple ink onto your skin, always on your wrists, right there for anyone to see.

Tendou’s wrist are bare of any mark, not a single piece of ink in sight.

“I think you know better than anyone,” Tendou teases above you. “Words aren’t everything to a relationship, right~”

You smile at Tendou, but your chest still aches a little bit. Tendou’s strange, but he’s funny. He’s funny and kind. Very, very kind, even if he likes to act like he isn’t or seem worse than he really is. He deserves someone kind too, even if the statistics for actually meeting your soulmate are low.

You show Tendou your mark, a simple black V and nothing more. He stares at it, looking bewildered for once himself while you simply shrug back at him, holding up two fingers like a peace sign but as a V instead.

Tendou suddenly bursts into laughter. You stare at him, pouting in silence while he clutches his stomach, rolling around on your bed and wheezing.

“Well, (L/n)-chan, how about this,” Tendou says once his laughter dies down. “If you don’t like them, how about I take their place, hmm?”

You pretend to think it over for a bit. Tendou nudges your head with his foot and you swat it aside, turning over to him and pinching your fingers together in an okay sign.

“You’re so boring! Have more of a reaction, why don’t you? You know how hard I’m trying here?”

You smile at Tendou, chest full.


Maybe it’s not always that people do things for no reason to find a reason themselves.

Maybe these people just aren’t reasonable to begin with.

“Guys, look at how creepy this is! She’s writing all over it like she’s talking to herself—yikes!”

You stare at the three tormentors, frozen in place for a moment as you watch them flip through your notebook, fuller than it’s ever been. You watch them, second after second ticking as they laugh and point to the stacked conversations, the doodles and jokes and the pages stuffed full of proof that you and Tendou have built something, something dearly precious over the course of this year—

Two of them look at you and laugh, watching you at the entrance of the classroom. The last one holds up your notebook, her glossy lips moving, and then her perfectly manicured nails start ripping one of the pages.

It’s Tendou’s page. It’s terribly unlucky or lucky she picked that one. He’s written all over it, trying to be quiet that day.

“(L/n)-chan do ya get sick of me talking? People say I talk too much all the time.”

“No. I like it.”

“Aw, you’re just flirting!”

“No, I really, really like it.”

“Hahaha, then maybe I’ll talk enough for the two of us, hmm?”

You feel it tear all the way down to your bones.

“What a freak!”

Something snaps.

They clearly don’t see it coming when you go flying across the classroom, lunging for the monster with your notebook. Her eyes go round in disbelief and then furious anger when your hands find hers, ripping the book from her grasp as she fights you for it, shouting and cursing. Her two cronies are quick, grabbing at your hands and trying to haul you back but your mouth is parted in a soundless, furious scream, flailing your fists and hitting, pulling and tugging at them as you scream and scream and scream even though no words come out.

One girl nearly slaps you but you duck and shove your foot into her stomach, knocking her back into a desk. 

You shout at them. Shout and shout and shout and shout . You imagine the words cutting them in half. Imagine how they’d feel hearing the horrible things spat right back into their face—

She looks up at you, eyes red with rage and the other two thrust your hands down, stomping on your feet to try and hold you down while she raises her hand to strike again.

“All three of you are ugly pigs! Don’t you have anything better to do with your lives? Did all your parents ever teach you to do is bully the quiet kid? That’s terrible! You’re all horrible!”

The shrill, overly high-pitched voice catches all four of you off guard, staring at each other, stunned. The three girls share quick looks, looking startled out of their minds while your shoulders heave, ragged from the panting and soundless screaming. You don’t understand—

Firm, large hands suddenly grab you by your waist, hauling you up into the air and away from the other two girls. You quickly grab your skirt from flying up and whirl around, eyes round in disbelief when Tendou’s sleazy, easy grin meets your gaze, his eyes crinkled.

Your already quiet world quiets further, soft and silent as you stare at him and he gazes back at you for a second, assessing your disheveled form before he promptly sets you down onto your feet behind him like you’re some kind of toy. Tendou even takes a second to brush some dust off your shoulder, fixing your jacket with a happy little hum before he ruffles the top of your head and grins at you.

His eyes are crinkled at the corners, narrowed into dangerous slits. You freeze.

“Don’t worry,” Tendou chirps. “I’ll speak for both of us~”

He turns around with a flourish, blocking your view of the three girls and holding his hands out. “Sorry, ladies! I know you all might want a piece of her, but as her manager, I’ve got to be her translator and I believe my client says—oh, yes, yes, I hear you loud and clear! She says you’re all a bunch of useless bimbos with too much time on their hands!”

You gape at Tendou, clasping your hands over your mouth even though no words come out. The three girls look stunned and Tendou sweeps on in his fake, shrill voice, “Your perfume smells cheap and your nails are so last season—wow! Did you get enough sleep? Your pores are huge!”

“Asshole!” a girl shouts.

“Tendou, you freak!”

“Tendou, what do you think you’re—” one girl starts but Tendou thrusts a finger out, pointing it right at her face. 

“And now this one’s from me! ” Tendou says in his own voice, a little huskier than you remember, a little firmer, clearer, and he grins devilishly at the three girls. “So listen up, hmm?”

Your classmates always complain if there’s anything about Tendou, it’s that he tends to come off as a bit scary sometimes.

You’d never really thought so until now.

“Find something better to do,” Tendou says cheerfully, eyes narrowed into dagger thin slits as he brings one threatening hand up into the air. He smiles, dripping malice, “Or you’re going to regret it, capache?”

One girl swallows, looking ready to argue despite her ashen face. The other two grab her hands, furiously shaking their heads as they drag her away from the two of you, shooting you and Tendou glares. “Freaks! Both of you!”

They run anyway though when Tendou arches a dangerous brow at them, tails between their legs. You stare at the empty classroom door in disbelief, not quite able to wrap your head around the entire exchange or how all of this happened in so little time—

“Hmph, they can’t appreciate art when they see it,” Tendou complains loudly, dragging your attention back to him. He picks up your fallen notebook, flipping through the pages and idly smoothing out creases. “Girls like that are never going to get a boyfriend, don’t worry, (L/n)-chan. You’re much cuter than they are~”

Tendou.

There’s something loud pounding in your head. Maybe it’s your heart. You’re not really sure what it is in the quietness of it all as Tendou calmly turns to you, holding out your notebook.

Tendou.

Your fingers twitch. You feel your fingers moving, spelling out his name. Your mouth parts, breathing.

Tendou, thank

He brings up one hand, winking at you in an expression that doesn’t fit his face at all while he throws up a peace sign, the same one he always does, just like when the two of you first met.

“Our victory this time~ If they try it again, I’m not afraid to block them! I’ve got a mean—”

You freeze.

Victory?

You stare at Tendou’s peace sign.

V.

Your brain short circuits for a second. Something like adrenaline starts to pump rapidly through your body and you gape in disbelief, turning your wrist around and staring at the large, bold V on your skin. Your parents always joked with you about the kind of situation you’d have to be in for the first word your soulmate ever said to you to be V , but what if it wasn’t a matter of saying it but—

Signing it?

You feel your heart almost stop. It kicks back into gear, loud like a set of drums. You quickly grab Tendou’s blank wrist, surprising him as he blinks curiously down at you. “Hmm? What’s gotten into you, (L/n)-chan—”

“Tendou!” you sign, cheeks flushing. “Tendou, this might sound crazy but—”

You grab your notebook, quickly flipping to a blank page and hurriedly writing onto it. Tendou blinks, looking playfully confused until you turn your page to him.

“I think we might be soulmates!”

Your heart threatens to burst out of your chest. Tendou stares at your page for what feels like eternity before he pushes it down with one long, bandaged finger. He grins at you over the top of your notebook, waggling his brows.

“(Y/n)-chan, are you trying to ask me out? You could’ve just said so~”

You toss your notebook to the desk, lunging at Tendou with your arms thrown wide, mouth parted in a soundless, desperate laugh and Tendou simply grins in that sneaky little way of his, looking as content as a cat as he wraps his arms around you anyway and hoists you up.

“Ara, was I found out?”

In your flurry you abruptly press your lips to Tendou's unable to contain your excitement or words, hands no longer enough. Tendou goes stiff, eyes round as saucers when you pull back and stare at him, beaming brightly and quickly signing. "You're so dumb!"

The top of Tendou's ears start to turn red. You stare at him in surprise, pressing a hand to your mouth.

"Tendou,"  you sign. "You're so honest."

"Bzzt! Wrong answer! Better kiss me again or I'll drop you."

Without hesitating you quickly duck your head in close and this time Tendou meets you have way with his cheeky grin, both your lips molding together in a kiss that floods with laughter, even though not a single sound escapes either of you.


"I never said I didn't have one. My soulmate just doesn't have much to say~"