You were just trying to buy some chocolate. That’s all. Just a peaceful afternoon, a craving, and the sweet satisfaction of grabbing the last bar of your favorite kind.
Until you turned around—and ran straight into a wall.
Not an actual wall. A man. A towering one, with shaggy purple hair and sleepy violet eyes staring down at you with mild irritation.
“Hand the chocolate over. It’s mine,” he said, voice slow and lazy like he couldn’t care less—but his eyes said otherwise.
You blinked up at him, baffled. “Uh… nuh uh. I grabbed it first.”
He leaned down slightly, shadowing over you, eyes narrowing as he stared you down. “I saw it first. Give it to me.”
Your gaze dropped to the mountain of snacks in his arms. “Boy, my hand was on it first. Besides, you already have enough junk to fuel a small army.”
He looked down at his snack hoard, then back at you, unimpressed. “These aren’t the same. I want that chocolate too.”
You scoffed. “I had it first, dude.”
He sighed, crossing his arms, his broad frame blocking your way to the counter. “That doesn’t matter. Just give it to me. I’m not asking nicely anymore.”
You slipped around him and made a dash for the register, slapping your money down before he could pull any fast moves. Triumph tasted just as sweet as the chocolate bar now safely tucked in your bag.
As you left, you caught the tall guy muttering behind you, a scowl tugging at his lips.
“So annoying… I’ll just get more chocolate somewhere else.”
Later, he strolled into another store, his long legs eating up the distance. His eyes lit up when he spotted the same brand of chocolate, and just like before, his fingers curled around the last bar on the shelf.
A smirk played on his lips.
He didn’t know your name. But he’d remember that face.
The next day, you reached for a bag of chips—and just as your fingers grazed the bag, a familiar hand snatched it first.
You blinked. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Murasakibara was already chewing something, that same satisfied smirk on his face. “Look who it is again. You really like to make this difficult, don’t you?”
You rolled your eyes. “Whatever.” You grabbed a different flavor and walked off.
He watched you go, eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re not even gonna try and fight for it? You’re no fun…”
“Not worth the hassle. You’re like a giant.”
He chuckled darkly, following you without hesitation. “And you’re like a tiny little pest. But persistent—I’ll give you that.”
You grabbed two of your favorite chocolates from yesterday, just to be safe.
“Being sneaky now?” he asked, eyes narrowing. “Two of those won’t save you from me.”
He lunged and snatched one from your hand.
“Hey!” you protested, tugging it back.
He didn’t budge. “Too slow. Mine now.” He unwrapped it casually, took a bite, and gave you a smug look.
“Tch. Whatever.” You paid for your snacks and headed out.
Of course, he followed, leisurely keeping pace. “You’re really stubborn. I guess I’ll see you again tomorrow.”
He leaned against the doorframe, blocking your path again with a smirk. “Oh, I know I will. You’re like a magnet for trouble. And I keep getting stuck to you.”
He grinned wider. “What’s wrong? Getting tired of our little snack battles already?”
The next day, you intentionally went to a different store.
As you walked home, you bumped into someone tall, broad, and very purple-haired.
“I went out of my way to avoid you!” you huffed, stepping back.
Murasakibara blinked lazily. “Oh? So you’re my neighbor too now? This is getting ridiculous.”
You groaned, turning away, only to hear his footsteps trailing you.
“Hey! Stop following me!”
“I’m not. I live this way too.”
“Are you kidding me… we better not live right next to each other.”
He pointed. “Too late. That house, right there.”
You muttered something unintelligible.
“Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other,” he teased. “You can’t escape me that easily.”
He started up his porch, then paused, looking back. “Want to come over for dinner? My mom makes the best snacks.”
“I am not gonna blatantly hang out with you, dude.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself. But I’ll be waiting for our next chocolate encounter.”
The first day of school was the last straw.
You saw him walk past your house—in your school’s uniform.
He caught you staring through the window and waved with that same smug smile.
“Bye, Mom!” you yelled, running out the door. “NO WAY YOU GO TO THE SAME SCHOOL.”
He stopped to let you catch up, amused. “Surprise. I’m in Class 3-B.”
“Wha—how do you even know what class I’m in?!”
“I checked the roster this morning when you were rushing to get ready. Not very careful, are you?”
You groaned, thoroughly done with this cursed coincidence.
“Don’t worry,” he added, smirking. “I won’t tell anyone… for now.”
“You really need to come up with a different response than ‘whatever’.”
You glared at him, storming into class—only for him to slide into the desk right behind you.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“Looks like we’re desk neighbors,” he said cheerfully, stretching his long legs under your chair. “This is gonna be fun.”
“Ow. That hurt.” He grinned. “Still not moving.”
He leaned forward, resting his chin on your desk. “You’re just mad because I’m taller. And better at everything.”
After school, you headed to the gym. New job: basketball club manager. You were hoping to escape him, at least here.
Of course, he was there—stretching lazily near the wall.
He looked up and grinned. “Oh? Looking for someone to manage? I’m available.”
You groaned. “I cannot escape you.”
“Nope,” he said, walking over, easily towering above you. “I’m like your shadow now. Always following.”
He poked your forehead. “Don’t be so grumpy. We’ll make a great team… whether you like it or not.”
He snorted. “Let’s practice. You’ll have to deal with me on the court too.”
He blinked. “No? Then why are you here?”
“I’m the manager, dummy.”
“Oh.” He looked at you with new interest. “That explains the boring uniform.”
“I’m the center, by the way. You’ll be taking care of me during games.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll make it easy for you. Just feed me snacks when I need ‘em.”
You rolled your eyes. “You can’t even eat on the court.”
“But the cravings…” he pouted. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“You’re so dramatic. And I don’t understand because I’m not fat like you.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, but he smirked. “Height needs calories. I’m not fat—I’m perfectly proportioned.”
He leaned closer. “Keep calling me fat… just means there’s more of me to love.”
“You’re obsessed with me and I don’t even know your name.”
He raised a brow. “Murasakibara Atsushi. And I’m not obsessed—I just find you interesting.”
Later, you were struggling with a tray of water cups.
Murasakibara appeared beside you, smirking. “Need help?”
Too late. He took half with one hand, ruffled your hair with the other.
“You’re so stubborn. It’s adorable.”
He chuckled as you elbowed his side—barely moving him.
“You’re like a little kitten trying to fight a tiger.”
He opened the gym door for you. “After you, kitten.”
Murasakibara grinned wider, clearly enjoying how easily he got under your skin.
“Why not?” he asked, voice slow and smug. “It fits you perfectly. Small, feisty, and cute when you’re mad.”
You rolled your eyes hard and turned on your heel, choosing to ignore him completely as you handed out the rest of the waters and snacks to the team. All of them—except him. Deliberately.
Murasakibara’s expression shifted as he watched you walk past him without so much as a granola bar. A slight frown tugged at his mouth.
“Hey,” he called, sitting up slightly from his lazy sprawl on the gym floor. “Where’s my snack? I helped you carry those cups.”
You didn’t even glance at him. “No, you bothered me. And you didn’t even practice with the others.”
“I was practicing,” he defended, sitting up straighter. “Just… not in the way you think. And I still deserve a snack for being nice.”
You opened your empty hands and gave him an exaggerated shrug. “Well, would ya look at that. I don’t have anymore.”
He let out a dramatic sigh and flopped backward onto the floor like a starfish. “You’re so mean. I’m starving now.”
He rolled onto his back and stared up at you with the most pathetic, kicked-puppy expression you’d seen that day. “Please? Just one little piece? I’ll do anything.”
He sat back up, actually pouting now. “Fine,” he muttered, standing again. “I’ll just have to find another way to get your attention.”
You turned your back to him with a huff and started picking up the scattered basketballs across the court. Of course, you could still hear the heavy thuds of his lazy footsteps behind you as he followed.
“You know,” he said, his voice too close, “you’re really making me work for this friendship. Most people just give in to my charm.”
You tossed a ball into the bin with a bit more force than necessary. “We are not friends.”
He paused behind you. For a second, the silence stretched awkwardly before he spoke again—lighter, masking whatever had flickered across his face a moment ago.
“That hurts, Y/N. We’ve had so many meaningful moments together already.”
You turned, unimpressed. “We met two days ago.”
He raised his hands and started counting on his fingers. “Two days and counting. I’m being very patient with you, y’know.”
Rolling your eyes again, you hauled the last ball into the bin and made your way toward the storage room. Unsurprisingly, his shadow trailed after you like some oversized ghost.
“You’re very stubborn,” he said, leaning against the doorway. “It’s cute.”
“Leave me alone,” you shot over your shoulder before flipping the light off as you exited.
There was a startled yelp and some very ungraceful shuffling inside the storage room. “Hey! Don’t leave me in here!”
The lights flicked back on behind you, followed by the sound of him tripping over something.
“That was dirty,” Murasakibara grumbled, stepping back out with a half-lidded glare that didn’t quite hide his amusement. “You’re playing hard to get. But I’ll win you over eventually.”
“If you’re not gonna go with the rest of the team, at least help me clean up,” you snapped, thrusting a broom into his hands.
He stared at it as if it offended him. “Fine,” he sighed, dragging it behind him like it weighed a ton. “But only because I’m nice.”
He swept slowly—so slowly it barely qualified as actual help—but kept throwing you smirks every time you passed him.
“You’re lucky I like you enough to do this,” he murmured. “Most people just get yelled at.”
You shot him a glare as you rinsed out the water bottles at the sink. “Shut up.”
He leaned on his broom. “Make me.”
He gave a lazy shrug. “Or what? You’ll yell at me more? I kinda like it when you get all worked up.”
He put a hand over his chest dramatically. “Ew? That’s harsh. I’m trying to be playful here.”
Murasakibara bent down, his face far too close to yours. “Gross? Maybe. But I think you secretly enjoy my company.”
He laughed, low and soft, and you could feel his breath ghost across your skin.
“Your heart’s beating faster, Y/N. Don’t lie to me.”
Flustered, you turned away and busied yourself with putting the cups away. He followed, of course, right on your heels.
“Running away again?” he asked as you stepped out of the gym. “You’re just making this chase more exciting.”
He stepped in front of you, arms crossed over his chest like some smug wall of purple hair. “It’s late. Let me walk you home.”
You gave him a deadpan stare. “Ugh.”
“Come on,” he coaxed, stepping closer. “I promise I won’t bother you… much.”
“I hate that we’re neighbors,” you muttered.
He grinned like it was the best news he’d heard all week. “And I love it. Makes it easier for me to keep an eye on you.”
He matched your pace as you walked, his long legs keeping up with ease. “You’re so cute when you’re annoyed, Y/N.”
By the time you reached your house, you were fully ready to slam the door in his face. He lingered at the gate, looking far too pleased with himself.
“Same time tomorrow for cleaning duty?” he asked.
He pouted. “But I need my daily dose of your attitude. Can’t get enough of it.”
He finally backed away, hands raised. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave you alone… for now.”
Then he winked. “Sweet dreams, Y/N. Try not to dream about me too much.”
His laugh echoed as he walked down the street. You turned away, flipping him off as you walked inside.
“Cute and feisty!” he called behind you. “You’re perfect!”
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