☁︎ ┆ ❝ The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams. ❞
As of August 2022, this book is currently undergoing major editing and revisions. It will be updated periodically when I finish editing chapters.
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———— I H A T E Y O U yuuji terushima
w a r n i n g s : mild spice, no smut c a t e g o r y : academic rivals ————
If all the excess hatred in the world could somehow be bottled up neatly and weighed, the sole hatred you had for Terushima would still reign supreme. That arrogant, cocky bastard, you thought to yourself at the end of the term award's ceremony stage. Each term, the girl and boy who had scored top of their year on the final exams would be honored in front of the whole school. Each term since first year, you've shared that stage with none other than Terushima, Yuuji— a frivolous asshole who showed not even the slightest interest in his school performance. Students like him deserved a special place in hell for diminishing the hard earned efforts of those who actually cared to try; you mentally cursed his very existence all with a smile on your face. The commemorative photo was about to be taken.
In your hand, you held the certificate at chest height with a constrained smile. Terushima was beaming wholeheartedly and making stupid faces to his friends from the volleyball team in the crowd.
"Would you cut that out," you hissed under your breath, gritting your teeth fearsomely, "this is an award's ceremony. Not one of your stupid games."
Terushima was standing so close to you, his arm brushed up against yours. He turned his head, "What's that Chibichan? You say something? Couldn't hear you from down there."
"You know damn well what I said."
You would have continued but the photographer started to count down, "Okay, big smile on three. One, two—
"I love you too, Chibichan," Terushima cooed sarcastically as he threw his arm around your shoulders and pulled you against his side just as the cameraman said three. He beamed brightly, holding his certificate in his free hand with pride.
Great. Now to haunt you for the entirety of one new term would be the photo of your livid, shocked expression of being mocked by your greatest enemy. The students clapped politely and Terushima dropped his arm. He began to make his way off the stage while you stood frozen in your spot, wild eyes still processing the horror of being touched by his despicable hand. When the distance between the both of you had surpassed a few feet, Terushima turned back around and held up the matching certificate to mock you.
Before you could retort and storm off, somehow more pissed than ever, his jaw dropped and he stuck his tongue out at you. Classy. On full display, he made no effort to ever hide it, his silver tongue piercing— which was a violation of school rules, you never failed to mention whenever you saw it. Except now. It gleamed against the bright lights of the auditorium, saliva and metal.
"Alright Terushima. That's enough, take your seat," a faculty member scolded and placed a hand on his shoulder to hasten his prolonged exit.
