Haikyuu: Reborn in Karasuno

Wearing the slippers Hayato had left for her, Kiyoko stepped into the living room—and paused.

The table was already set. In the center sat the sukiyaki pot, gently steaming, surrounded by neatly arranged platters of fresh ingredients. Bowls and chopsticks were placed with care.

Hayato, now changed into a navy blue t-shirt patterned with soft cloud designs and loose grey shorts, looked up at the sound of her footsteps. His sun-bright smile warmed the room.

"Kiyoko-nee, you've worked hard! Dinner will be ready soon. What would you like to drink? Coffee? Barley tea? The hot water's ready—I can make anything you like."

Kiyoko stood frozen for a moment, memories washing over her.

That same bright smile had once belonged to a lonely little boy—a boy who'd been bullied for not having a mother and left alone for hours because his father was always working. So many times she had found him curled up beneath the park slide, holding back tears and whispering, "Kiyoko-nee, I'm fine."

That fragile child had grown into this radiant, caring young man.

"You're the one who's worked hard all these years…" she said, her voice catching.

She quickly turned her head to hide the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

Hayato paused. Though the memories weren't truly his, the emotions tied to them—the loneliness, the resilience—still stirred in his chest.

Shaking them off, he smiled again. "It's in the past. Come on, Kiyoko-nee—still waiting on your drink order."

"I'll get it myself," she said, regaining her composure. "But you go take a bath."

"Huh? I already changed clothes. Isn't that enough?"

"What if you catch a cold? The tub's already filled. Go, now."

As soon as she said it, her expression faltered.

She'd forgotten—it was her bathwater.

Realizing the implication, her cheeks flushed.

But Hayato, catching her embarrassment, only grinned playfully. "Kiyoko-nee is right. I'll go. Oh, and… I'll have some barley tea~"

Kiyoko nodded, watching him disappear into the bathroom, then promptly buried her face in her hands.

"Shimizu Kiyoko, get it together! What are you doing?!"

She groaned and forced herself to focus, setting about making the tea. As the aroma of barley rose from the cup, she slowly relaxed.

"Mmm… smells good."

With nothing left to prepare, she poured a second cup for herself and sat quietly, sipping.

Not long after, Hayato reappeared—hair damp, same clothes, looking freshly showered.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. Let's eat~"

Kiyoko shook her head and smiled. Together, they gathered around the table and began placing ingredients into the pot.

Warm steam, soft laughter, and the comforting scent of simmering broth filled the room.

When the meal was finished, the rain outside was still pouring. After some discussion, they decided to spend the evening studying in Hayato's room.

It was only Kiyoko's second time inside since she helped him clean it.

The space was neat, with sports gear stacked near the door, a wall of manga, volleyball, and basketball books, and a slightly-larger-than-single bed pressed into the corner near a desk. Two glass windows opposite the door were now covered by drawn curtains.

Hayato pulled out floor cushions and a small table. He sat facing the door; Kiyoko sat across from him.

As they studied, Kiyoko couldn't help but notice—Hayato sometimes answered questions beyond his grade level.

"Previewing ahead," he claimed with a sheepish grin.

Time passed quietly, the only sound being the scratch of pencils on paper.

Then Hayato asked, "Kiyoko-nee, why do you always wear black pantyhose?"

Kiyoko blinked, surprised by the question.

With her hair now dry, she calmly tucked a strand behind her ear and answered.

Back in middle school, she explained, she'd been in the track and field club. Frequent falls left scars on her legs—visible ones. She started wearing black pantyhose to cover them.

Though Hayato already knew, he listened attentively.

When she finished, she gave a small, wry smile and pointed to the faint marks on her calves and knees. "Ugly, aren't they?"

Hayato shook his head firmly.

"They're not ugly. They're proof of your hard work, Kiyoko-nee—like medals. They're beautiful."

As he spoke, his gaze unintentionally drifted downward—her bare feet peeked out from under the oversized t-shirt, slippers left by the door. Her legs were slender and fair, toes curled slightly against the floor.

"Don't look at me like that…" Kiyoko muttered, tugging the hem of her shirt down in embarrassment—only to inadvertently draw more attention.

The room was silent—until a soft, unmistakable gulp broke the tension.

"Hayato… did you just—?"

"I didn't! I mean—I wasn't! You heard wrong!" he blurted, face crimson.

Kiyoko laughed. "Really now~"

Then she noticed it—a stream of blood trickling from his nose.

"Pfft—Hayato, are you seriously having a nosebleed?"

Mortified, Hayato grabbed tissues to clean up, but it was no use.

"Let me help," Kiyoko sighed, grabbing a tissue and leaning in.

Because Hayato was sitting and still taller, Kiyoko had to kneel, straightening her back to wipe the blood from his face.

She'd forgotten—she was wearing nothing underneath the t-shirt.

As she leaned in, her body pressed closer, and the fabric clung to her shape, outlining delicate curves.

Hayato's restraint snapped.

His hands moved instinctively, wrapping around her waist.

The warmth of her skin, the closeness, the gentle scent of her—his breath caught.

Kiyoko's eyes fluttered closed.

But then, suddenly, Hayato stopped.

He gently placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away.

Kiyoko's face flushed, then paled. Rejection?

Before she could say anything, Hayato spoke.

"It's not that, Kiyoko-nee. Just… listen. I know we're close, and maybe our feelings got stirred up by the mood or the past. But I don't want things to happen like this—not without clarity."

He looked her in the eyes, serious now.

"You're the most important person to me. Let's take our time. I don't want to be reckless with this."

A silence followed—but it wasn't tense. It was honest.

"…So you're not rejecting me?" Kiyoko asked, quietly.

"Of course not. I'm done pretending. I've always liked you—ever since we were kids. I even wanted to marry you someday."

There was nothing left to hide.

"Then… that's good." Kiyoko smiled faintly, her shoulders relaxing.

She sank onto the floor, a little breathless from the rush of emotions.

The truth was, even if the moment had caught her off guard, she hadn't closed her eyes just from shock.

Somewhere inside her, those long-buried feelings had begun to bloom again.

Still, the tension lingered.

After a pause, Kiyoko stood abruptly. "I'm going to pick some flowers," she mumbled, dashing out of the room.

Left alone, Hayato collapsed backward onto the floor.

"That was way too intense… We nearly crossed the line."

Glancing downward, he muttered, "Dude… calm down. You're getting ahead of yourself."

Still, he had no regrets. What he said had been true.

They might still be figuring out what they meant to each other—but it wasn't the right moment yet.

Downstairs, Kiyoko stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, flustered.

"Why did I close my eyes? That was basically saying yes…"

She groaned and pinched her cheeks.

But despite her scolding, her expression softened.

"Still… those were Hayato's real feelings."

After collecting herself, she returned to the room.

Neither of them brought it up again.

They studied for a little while longer, then prepared to sleep.

Since the other guest room wasn't ready, Hayato insisted Kiyoko take the bed while he would sleep downstairs.

Unexpectedly, Kiyoko tugged his sleeve.

"…You can stay. Just use the futon."

So, Kiyoko lay on his bed, and Hayato set up a futon on the floor.

The lights switched off.

The rain still poured outside.

In the quiet dark, neither of them spoke—but their hearts were far from still.

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POWER STONE!!!

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