For as long as she remembered she was the voice of reason in every setting. She was calm and beautiful, never rash and always graceful. She was a lady and ladies buried their emotions. Their faces were stoic and their backs were straight, their head held high as they went through life.
Ladies made it all look easy; they glided through the existence of others leaving longing stares and broken hearts in their wake.
Ladies did not draw attention to themselves; they commanded it in the most subtle of ways. In their walk, in their looks, in their voice and most important of all in their silence. She knew all of this, it was been taught to her from a very young age, engrained in her brain and now in her skin.
She was Shimizu Kiyoko and she wasn't perfect.
She was a deity, the being that humans looked up to, for justification and inspiration. She represented everything beautiful in this world. And like every deity she craved chaos.
She wanted to see cities burn and collapse at her feet. She wanted the sky to crumble above her and to hear the cries of the people beneath her. She wanted the heavens to pay heed to her and let her drink from the stars and flow like the waves. She wanted the world to collapse and for her to be there to watch it.
She has seen dreams plummet to the ground and self-doubt eat people whole. She has seen friendships bloom and others break. She has seen humans put everything in the line and come out of it with regrets and broken promises. Eyes red and heads down. She couldn't understand how they did it, again and again. To her, there was no grace in defeat.
She couldn't relate to them, she couldn't understand them and that is what drew her to them. She made plenty of good memories she grew up with them and welcomed many to only bid farewell to that many more. She didn't exactly care for volleyball itself. She cared about the players. Their expressions and their thoughts. It was so fascinating when humans gave in to their desires and attained their most primal of instincts.
The instinct to win.
She wondered if any of them saw winning the way she did, as a means to an end, as another part of herself. Of her divinity. Black and white.
That is not to say she didn't enjoy when they lost. Humans in aguish are just as fascinating as humans in the midst of victory. Seeing both at the same time is the reason she likes being manager so much. You can always tell the victors from the defeated, the most real representation of the core society. The ugly truth of human nature was displayed to each one of them so clearly at the end of each game but they didn't mind.
Actually, they didn't see it that way. And it was that innocence that made her chest feel tight. She had lost that long ago, traded it for the ability to know and to hide behind her beauty.
Goddesses craved chaos and tears. They drank the blood of the fallen from cups made of the broken dreams and hopes. They fed themselves on the admiration of others and the knowledge that nothing could destroy were one with discord and desired strife and felt the pinnacle of joy in the face of challenges.
But, she was also a lady, and ladies knew when to bury their desires deep down.
She was Shimizu Kiyoko and she wasn't perfection.
She was a deity.
And like every deity she knew that if people ever stop believing in her, she would cease to exit. She will become only a shadow of her former self. She would wither and become part of the earth, no longer one with the stars and the moon.
Of course she wasn't about to let that happen. Nature demanded her existence and she relished in the pleasures of the world too much to allow herself to be forgotten.
So she continued, gliding through life, making everything look easy and leaving longing stares and broken hearts in her wake.
Until she met a girl. With hair like sunflower petals and a smile that would put the sun to shame. So pure and so lovely.
Determination was alight in her eyes and her will burned strong, but she could never become like her. She was too kind and she thrived on the happiness of those around her.
Yaichi was someone she needed to protect because she was a rare gem. She was worth more than the cosmos and the seas and the stars. She was beautiful in her own way.
She was beautiful the way warm blankets and rainbows after the rain were beautiful. They inspired warmth and comfort.
Kiyoko was beautiful the way storms and raging seas were beautiful. The way the moon and black holes were beautiful. She inspired fear and mystery and everything dark and unknown.
She longed to see the day that Yachi truly blossomed into her true self. Into a deity of her own, one that would balance Kiyoko out. They would rule together.
For one year they would be each other's best friends and enemies.
They would become infinite.
Or so she would hope, but ladies don't hope.