Mizuki Sayeko had never been fond of the whole 'soulmates' concept, not when her past warned her of the side-effects of falling too deep into the lucid, hypnotising trap. With piercing gazes, a stone-cold heart, would her soulmates ever get through...
she could change the world with her hands tied behind her back
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OCTOBER 25th. The first day of the Qualifier. Mizuki stood beside her team, dressed in the same tracksuit as Kiyoko, her bag slung over her shoulders. They watched Hinata dash forward, his soulmate hot on his heels.
"It's like Hinata and Kageyama live on spinal reflex alone," commented Yamaguchi, watching the two with an exasperated expression.
"They're like insects."
Hinata crashed into a boy dressed in yellow tracksuits, a team of them, apparently. Mizuki read the words printed on the back and recognised one of the boys.
"Huh? That means..." Terushima lit up, recognising the orange-haired child in front of him. Pushing him out of his view, Terushima waved over at the group, eyes locking with a pair of lilac ones. "Moon-chan! Be sure to tell me your number today!" Mizuki sighed, though she did raise her hand, offering him a minuscule smile.
If it was possible, Terushima's eyes would've morphed into animated hearts.
The two-second years' rage ignited. With demonic red eyes, tongues poking out like a lizard's, irk marks present on their temples, Tanaka and Nishinoya dashed forward, lunging towards the blonde who had the audacity to flirt openly with Mizuki. No one flirted with their analyst. Nobody.
"Stop it!" called a brunette in the same yellow tracksuit, pushing Terushima out of the way and bowing in apology. "Anosan...I'm so sorry about that!" Comically, the boys froze in the air.
Mizuki rolled her eyes at her team. This was going to be a long match.
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
Making her way through the hallways, ignoring the whispers following after her, Mizuki searched for her baby crow. She, whose beauty struck more than lightning, captivated the attention of various groups of people. Her hair cascaded down her back, lavender strands curling at the bottom. The lights seemed to dim, her glowing presence demanding the attention of everyone and everything. She was like a living angel, without wings and— no. Correction. She was like a living queen, her crown concealed from sight.
"P-Pardon me! Ow!"
That's Shoyo's voice.
Mizuki took a left, seeing the first-year standing between her family friend and another couple. Hinata looked scared shitless.
"Hinata Shoyo," said Wakatoshi, eyes narrowing on the tiny player. "And Oikawa and Iwaizumi."
So they're Seijoh's ace and setter, Mizuki thought.
"What's with this timing?" muttered the brown-haired male, both players (dressed in turquoise and white) glaring at Ushijima.
