'Completely and utterly suicidal' was what Yamguchi had deemed your plan after texting him that evening.

You'd been unable to catch another glimpse of Tsukishima at school, and thus failed to return his notebook, or tackle the presentation that was due for tomorrow. As you sat at the foot of your bed, staring down at Tsukishima's spidery writing from the notebook open on your lap, you thought of only two possible options: do the presentation yourself and convince Tsukishima to deliver it to the class, and return his book in the process, or, go to his house and sort it all out there.

Yamaguchi informed you that the latter option was a definite no-no. But for some reason, your heart and mind and everything else was telling you otherwise.

You would get nowhere with him if you played it safe all the time. Despite your tendencies to steer clear of bold, risky behaviour that put your self-esteem and education on the line, your determination to help Tsukishima had spurred a sudden audacity in you, and now you were ready to face new heights (literally), and do something outside of the comfort zone that had cushioned you from the world so long.

That's why you found yourself sucking in short burst of air through your nose as you waded through the knee-length thickets and unruly pockets of grass of Tsukishima's lawn, climbing up the porch you'd found the blonde sitting on only a few days previous. You jostled the pleated brown scarf away from your mouth, raised a gloved hand and rapped your knuckles against the door - louder than intended - before taking a step back, casting your eyes over the house's outer facade.

It was a tall, narrow structure that appeared to be sitting at a slant, on foundations that were hardly able to keep it upright; you were half expecting it to give a shudder and topple straight onto its side, but everything about it seemed still. Unused. Unoccupied. The thick, grey curtains were drawn over every window, not even a twitch or flutter to be seen. The porch was a thick slab of stone with an overhanging roof, and guttering that dripped murky rain water into the unkempt garden beyond, coaxing out weeds and thistles from the black soil.

You managed to keep your composure intact as a latch came undone somewhere inside, the tumblers of the lock shuddering in the process, and the door inched open.Tsukishima's eyes dilated as they met yours - golden irises reflecting the drowsy evening sun behind you - and his face contorted with a scowl that marred his features like a jagged scar.

"What the hell are you-"

"You left this behind," you intervened quickly, fumbling through your bag for his notebook and pulling it out slowly. He glanced down at it with a disinterested frown, before nudging the door open wider and snatching it out of your hand.

He made to slam it shut when you suddenly wedged your foot in the gap, biting back a cry as the door stubbed your toe.

"W-we also need to finish the presentation for tomorrow!"

"I've done it," he snapped, kicking your foot out of the way before successfully slamming the door in your face. The impact made your head pound.

Still, you weren't going to leave it at that.

You were still overflowing with that newfound audacity, and found yourself knocking again, immune to the sudden cold as night kissed the brow of the world.

You barely had chance to speak as the door flung wide and Tsukishima stepped out, drowning out an artillery of shouts inside as he closed it behind him. His cheeks were burning, eyes licking with flames.

"What's it going to take for you to just leave me the fuck alone?"

You were taken aback by the tone of his voice. It wasn't threatening, or intimidating, or trembling with anger.

He sounded defeated. Weak. Broken.

"I just... want to help you," you murmured softly, unable to tear your eyes from his. At first glance, one might only see the anger in his eyes, the thick grey clouds rumbling with thunder. But beyond the storm were just sombre skies.

"Well I don't need your help. So don't come by again."

Fixing you with a hard stare, he turned around and went back inside.

This time, you let him go.

But this wasn't the end of it.

Your thoughts were all in a whir as you walked back home. No matter how much he told you to leave him alone, you just couldn't do it. You refused to listen to him.

Because Kei Tsukishima was an enigma begging to be solved. He was a jigsaw longing to be pieced back together. And nothing would deter you from completing the puzzle.