Let's backtrack eleven years. Kurumu and Mizore are in kindergarten.
It was break. Mizore came shyly up to Kurumu, holding two slushies. She held one out to Kurumu.
"I made you a slushie," she blushed.
"Aww, thanks," Kurumu gushed, and gratefully accepted the purple slush.
"It's grape."
"Yahoo! Grapes my favorite! What flavor's yours?"
"Ano…ice."
"What does it taste like?"
"…Ice."
Kurumu nodded, then slurped up her purple slushie. After eating like a pig, she daintily patted her mouth with a napkin. Then she asked, suddenly nervous, "Do you want to be next to me at nap time?"
"I thought you wanted to nap next to Tsukune," Mizore mumbled, confused.
"Not today. Today I want to nap next to Mizore."