ice queen • haikyuu

004 | the beginning of a brother-sister relationship

"I'll think about it."

That was all she said as she swiftly turned away and left. The team all glanced between each other with hesitant expressions, ones that slowly turned gleeful.

That wasn't a no.

Mizuki was ready to head home and finish her book, taking three steps forward when she was stopped once again, this time by the one she held closest to her heart. Kiyoko ran up to her, throwing herself at Mizuki, who, with her expeditious reflexes, caught her. They twirled around as Mizuki steadied herself, the dark-haired third year wrapping her arms around her friend's neck, pulling her closer as she whispered, "Thank you."

Mizuki softened immensely, a fond expression washing over her face as she returned the hug, holding Kiyoko gently until she pulled away, raising her hand to wipe away the tears that had fallen, ones that were made purely out of joy.

"I guess we're even now, huh?" Mizuki said when Kiyoko took a step back, placing a hand on top of the shorter girl's head.

The whole team watched the moment. The coach and third years watched with soft, tender smiles, the older students happy to see the girl they grew up still retained her gentle soul. The second and first years, however, watched with shock, especially Nishinoya and Tanka, who hadn't seen either side of both girls. The Ice Queen was said to be a heartless individual, a person who did not care for any but herself. Yet, here she was, endearingly soothing the crying Kiyoko, the goddess that held their team together.

Maybe, just maybe, people had been wrong about Mizuki Sayeko.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The day after, Mizuki was stopped by the little ball of sunshine on the Karasuno Boys Volleyball team. The bell for lunch had rung, and the students dispersed from their classes, running off to see their friends. The lavender-haired girl was walking through campus, searching for the vending machine when Hinata spotted her. His whole face lit up, and he skipped over to her, ignoring the calls from his setter soulmate.

"Sayeko-senpai!"

The said third-year turned towards the source of the voice, her gaze landing on the human exclamation point.

"Hinata," she greeted, nodding her head in acknowledgement. She continued on in her journey to find some food, seeing as she forgot to pack her lunch in her bag this morning. Mizuki woke up a bit later than usual and found herself rushing to school, which resulted in her skipping over packing her food.

The ramifications?

Food from the vending machine.

"How can I help you?" The lavender-haired girl asked as she stepped in front of the machine, picking out what she wanted to munch on for the next half an hour or so.

"Your training exercises are so cool!" he exclaimed, practically vibrating on the spot. Hinata's eyes sparkled, genuine joy boring into them as he continued, "They go like wham, bam and zoom!"

Mizuki rose a brow, glancing towards the male as she repeated, "Wham, bam, and zoom?"

"You know, like—" he moved his arms through the air, showcasing his words in his movements. Mizuki chuckled, shaking her head in amusement as she bent down to pick up the packet of chocolate-covered Pocky.

"Well, I'm glad you like them. I had to add more for you seeing as you aren't as–" her gaze flew to Hinata, and she examined him, eyes travelling up and down–"experienced as the rest."

Hinata's grin faltered slightly.

"I know," he said, moving to glance at the ground but the gleam in his eyes returned almost immediately, the fire within him blazing through his pupils. "That's why I'm going to do my best to improve!"

Mizuki studied him, her sharp freezing lilac eyes framed with thick long lashes never leaving his smaller form. It pierced right through him, those cold eyes of hers. He shrunk back, his heart drumming in his chest and he swallowed thickly.

"Tell me, Hinata," she started, pausing in her actions of tearing open the top of the box. "Why do you try so hard in a sport where you are at an apparent disadvantage?"

Silence hung in the air.

Mizuki watched as he stilled, his eyes lowering to the ground as his muscles tensed. She wondered if she had hit a nerve, noticing how his hands balled into fists, nails digging into the surface of his palm. She went to apologise for asking an insensitive question when his mouth parted open.

"I always wondered what the view on the other side was like," Hinata spoke, his tone of voice low. "The view from the top...it's a view I could never see on my own. But if I'm not doing it alone, I might be able to see it–" his fists tightened, knuckles painted white due to the obstruction in his blood circulation–"I know I'm at a disadvantage because of my height but if I can't be as tall as the other players, then, I'll jump! Higher than them!" he exclaimed, snapping his head upwards. "By even one centimetre, one millimetre!"

Hinata's eyes bore into hers, and Mizuki couldn't help but focus on them. They were a deep, earthy brown — the colour of the earth after torrential rains. But there was something else in them, something glistening. Glistening like an old copper penny being examined in the warmth next to powerful flames that were licking the safety glass door of an old fireplace. In those earthy hues was his soul, not in the way of those cheesy romance novels Mizuki despised, so obsessed with popularity and lust — no.

His eyes showed his passion for playing volleyball, the desire to beat his opponents and play more games just because he genuinely loved the sport. The same way a pot holds layers of deep soil —cradling— because it is essential to keep the plant safe, the desire to play volleyball was what kept the orange-haired teen going. It's what drives him. The roots are held in place the same way his dark, liquidy eyes held so tightly onto the carnal need to do what he loved.

The intensity within his coffee-coloured eyes had her heart pumping. It was extraordinary, what she was feeling. It made her blood race; something achieved only when she read a thriller novel.

Her lips pulled up into a smirk.

His earnest need to defy the unfair realities of his genetics to play on a grand stage enticed her, just because of how endearing he was and how clear he made it that he wholeheartedly loved volleyball.

"I see," was all she said as she took out one of the pocky sticks, biting into the rod and swiftly turning on her heel, walking back to the school building. "I'll see you at practice after school," she added, raising her hand and waving goodbye to the stunned first-year, who blinked repeatedly, the dark lethal gleam in his eyes abating.

Perhaps his words touched her heart; or perhaps his stubbornness impressed her; or perhaps she simply found his answer amusing, novel enough to merit her acceptance of the position offer.

One thing Mizuki was certain on was that this year was sure to be an interesting one.