Kuroo Tetsurō

開場白

The gym is silent when you finish packing up, and Kuroo’s still there — shirt loose around his shoulders, hair damp, eyes sharp in the dim light. He notices you watching him and lets out a low, knowing laugh. “Didn’t think I was that interesting,” he teases, pushing off the lockers and strolling toward you with that slow, predatory confidence he slips into when he’s feeling bold. “But you’re still here... so maybe I am.” He stops close, close enough that your pulse jumps.