I approached these from the position that the boys don’t
know the girls are demi-gods. Once again, seeded by Admin Red, thank you!

---

Tsukishima and daughter of Minerva (Roman goddess of wisdom
and strategic warfare, and the sponsor of arts, trade, and strategy)

From the moment they first meet, Tsukishima is on his guard.
She’s way too informed about their opponents for him not to be. Sure, there’s
such a thing as scouting but she takes it to a whole new level. It isn’t that
he or the other crows don’t appreciate it but he can’t help but be skeptical as
to how she acquires her information. And it’s not as though he thinks himself a
saint or anything but aren’t there limits to what a person will do to gain
the upper hand? Especially in regard to something as simple as a club?

“Just how do you know all this stuff?” he asks her one day
after practice. He’s waited until everyone else has left, hoping she’ll tell
him the truth if it’s just the two of them.

“Women’s intuition,” she chirps, continuing to pick up the
volleyballs surrounding them.

He pulls the one from her hand, grabbing her wrist and
making her look at him. “And my intuition is screaming, bullshit.”

“Why do you care?” she snaps, wrenching away from his hold.
The question catches him off guard. Why does he care? Shouldn’t he just be
happy to have the information, no matter the method of its obtainment? But the
dark considerations he’s had fliting about in his brain won’t allow him to be
satisfied and it’s in this moment he realizes he cares not because of morality,
but because of jealousy.

She startles him with her next words, seemingly able to read
his mind. “By the way, I’m insulted that you think so lowly of me Tsukishima-kun,
I’m not a whore.” Her tone is solid, not a trace of guilt or untruth to be
found. “I just happen to be exceptionally skilled in the art of strategic
warfare.”

“Warfare?” he questions, unable to keep incredulity out of
his tone. “We’re playing volleyball, not marching onto the battlefield!”

“Now that is some
mighty fine bullshit,” she spats whirling on her heel and getting right in his
face. “You boys are no different in your quest for victory than my mother’s
troops were! Thankfully you don’t kill each other, just the ball!” The fire in
her eyes lights something deep in the pit of Tsukishima’s stomach and before he
knows it, his arms are around her waist, hefting her into a strong embrace. Her
eyes are wide at his actions and he barely remembers to breathe. “Tsukishima-kun,
let me go,” she orders but her voice is soft.

He swallows once, releasing her but just as she turns to go
back to her task he can’t stop from grabbing her hand. “Don’t…don’t go,” he
mumbles, “I…I’m sorry.” She turns, gaze meeting his again, eyes full of
surprise. “There…there’s something different about you and I just…” he trails
off, irritated that she can make him as brainless as Kageyama.

“You what?” she asks quietly, taking a step towards him.

He touches her cheek, his own heating up as his lips form
the words, “I…I like you.”

“Funny way of showing it,” she chides but there’s a playful
glint in her eyes now. He frowns but his eyebrows turn upwards when she reaches
on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I like you too, you salty dumbass.”

---

Kageyama and daughter of Apollo (recognized as a god of
music, truth and prophecy, healing, the sun and light, plague, poetry, and more)
[Aged up to college age so it makes more sense for her to be in a medical
profession. Also, this ended up just being the meet cute rather than the actual
fall in love part]

His first encounter with her is less than preferred as he happens
to be bleeding profusely from his nose thanks to an errant serve from Hinata.
Kageyama has enough trouble dealing with girls as it is but to have one so
beautiful and kind fluttering about taking care of him is almost too much for
the nervous blueberry despite his transition into adulthood.  

“Just sit tight, I’ll be back in a jiff,” she says sweetly,
hurrying from the room.

Kageyama sighs, tilting his head back to hopefully stem the
flow of crimson. When it finally seems to slow down, he resumes a neutral
position, eyes meeting the mirror and he winces at the sight he makes. His
shirt looks like a costume piece for a slash horror film. Grumbling about
killing Hinata, he stands, whipping the stained material over his head and
makes way to the sink.

From behind, he hears a gasp and the clatter of items hitting
the floor. Turning, his face flushes red all the way to his ears but his embarrassment
is momentarily forgotten when he sees that her
nose is bleeding now.

“Are these contagious?” he asks loudly, horrified to think
of the exposure his teammates had to him.

She blinks, confused by his question until a soft plunk against the tile floor draws her
eyes away from the smooth skin and defined muscular lines of the male before
her downward. Eyes widening in dismay, she covers her nose quickly, rushing out
of the room to gather new clean supplies since those she’s brought are now on
the floor.

Using her minimal healing powers, she quickly takes care of
her own issue before heading back to the exam room where she finds Kageyama
seated, still shirtless, on the table.

“Are you ok? Should I get another attendant? Do I need to be
quarantined?” he asks, voice rising in his panic of not knowing what’s wrong
with him.

She can’t help giggling which further confuses him but the
tension in his chest is released when she shakes her head in the negative. “No,
Kageyama-kun, there’s no need. I apologize for the mishap. Here, let me take a
look,” she goes on, gently examining his nose. He winces but otherwise stays
still. “You’re in luck, it’s not broken,” she confirms, “but there will be bruising,
and you’ll have to be extra careful with any strain.”

He sighs in relief, hand on the back of his head. “That’s good,
thanks…”

“_______,” she supplies with a smile. A couple quick
scribbles of writing provides him with a prescription for strong pain killers. “I
know you’re a volleyball junkie,” she teases, “so this stuff won’t put you to
sleep.”

“Thanks again,” he says and grabs his soiled shirt.

“You know, hydrogen peroxide may help get that stain out,
but it may be better just to trash the thing entirely,” she offers.

“Yeah,” he grumbles, shucking it into the trash bin.

“So,” she goes on, taking out another piece of paper and
handing it to him, “if you feel like getting a woman’s input, give me a call.”

Kageyama stutters, blush growing on his cheeks, but he
somehow manages to put one foot in front of the other to exit her exam room,
though his eyes remain on the number scrawled in hasty writing. Taking out his
phone, he enters it before typing out a text.

In the student clinic, the chime of her phone draws ________’s
attention, and the text upon it makes her smile.

Does tomorrow night
work? – Kageyama