Chapter 34: The Unassuming Data-Gathering Prodigy

The next few days of training went on as usual, all in preparation for the upcoming training camp.

The only difference was that Ryosuke had been coming and going like a shadow lately. The moment practice ended, he would slip away, impossible to catch.

Watching Ryosuke bolt off again after training, Eita Semi rubbed his chin. Just then, he spotted Yunohama passing by and casually hooked an arm around his neck.

“Yunohama-kun, did you guys get into a fight with Ryosuke lately? He hasn’t been staying behind for extra practice at all.”

Yunohama slapped the arm off his shoulder. “That’s Ryosuke’s private business. And also, senpai—please don’t put your arm around me next time.”

He pinched his nose in obvious disgust. “You stink of sweat.”

Eita Semi let out an exaggerated shout. “Huh?! You dare complain about me?!”

The two immediately devolved into a scuffle.

In the end, it all concluded with Yunohama smashing a spike straight onto Tendo’s head.

Poor, innocent Tendo had only been passing by when disaster struck from the sky.

Afterward, Eita Semi explained the whole thing to Tendo. Stroking his chin thoughtfully, Tendo said, “Why don’t you just ask Ryosuke directly?”

Eita Semi parroted Yunohama’s earlier words. “What if it’s Ryosuke’s privacy? But I’m really curious.”

Reon, who happened to overhear part of the conversation, walked over. “I know what he’s been doing.”

“Huh?!”

Everyone froze in shock at the same time.

“How do you know?! Did Ryosuke tell you?! Why didn’t you tell me? Does little Ryosuke not care about me anymore?!” Tendo whined dramatically, pretending to cry.

Even Eita Semi and Yunohama stared at Reon in disbelief. Reon’s forehead twitched. “Enough already! I overheard it by accident.”

“Overheard what?!”

Centered on Reon, everyone leaned in, faces full of shameless curiosity.

“Ah… it sounded like Coach Washijō asked him to handle something. Something about checking materials.”

Tendo tapped his cheek. “So Ryosuke didn’t tell you—you just overheard it, right?”

“You’re focusing on the wrong thing, Satori!”

Eita Semi rolled the volleyball in his hands. “So what kind of materials are we talking about…?”

Shirabu, who had been quietly eavesdropping nearby, drifted over. “Ryosuke will probably explain when the time comes.”

“Whoa, Shirabu, could you stop appearing out of nowhere? That’s terrifying!”

Reon clutched his chest dramatically.

Yunohama watched Shirabu float away, lost in thought. Recently, because of their positions, Ryosuke had been practicing with Shirabu a lot. From what Shirabu just said, it felt like he knew more than he was letting on.

After thinking for a long time and still coming up empty, Yunohama gave up. He decided to go home, eat, and recharge his brain.

...

Meanwhile, Ryosuke had been getting home unusually early these past few days. As soon as he returned, he would dive straight into his room and start furiously typing away at his computer.

Sometimes, Mrs. Washijō couldn’t even get a response when she called him downstairs for dinner. Worried, she held onto her husband’s arm.

“Do you think Ryosuke has hit a rebellious phase? Or… could he be in love? He’s glued to that computer all day—he’ll ruin his eyes.”

Coach Washijō chuckled and glanced at his wife. “Relax. It’s nothing. I gave him an assignment. That kid has nothing but volleyball on his mind—he’s not falling in love anytime soon.”

Hearing that only made Mrs. Washijō angrier. She twisted the inside of his arm hard.

“You think everyone’s like you?! If you raise Ryosuke to turn out like you, you can go sleep on the floor!”

Coach Washijō grimaced, rubbing his arm while muttering, “She’s already this old and still so strong…”

He quietly went upstairs and saw Ryosuke asleep at his desk, slumped over the keyboard. For once, he didn’t wake him, silently retreating instead.

Ryosuke had been running himself ragged these past two days. After returning from Mr. Yamamoto’s place, Coach Washijō had assigned him a task:

To gather individual data on all the players from the schools attending the training camp, so they could prepare targeted strategies for future matches.

Ryosuke had been so stressed these past two days he felt like he was going bald. But since the coach had ordered it, he had no choice but to finish it.

Most schools’ information was easy to find. Only one stood out as especially strange—Itachiyama. The available profiles listed only two or three players, and even the coaching staff couldn’t be identified.

Ryosuke the cat was done trying. It was too annoying. He lay sprawled on his bed, swinging his legs in boredom.

Coach Washijō had only told him to find the information, not how to find it. Suddenly, Ryosuke’s eyes lit up—as if he’d discovered a loophole. It wasn’t like research could only be done on a computer.

He picked up his phone and made a call, lying on the bed as the shadow of the curtains fell across his face.

He looked mysterious, tinged with a trace of exhaustion.

Long lashes hid his eyes, making it impossible to read his expression.

“Hello… yeah. Look something up for me. Quickly—don’t keep me waiting. I’ll send you the name.”

After hanging up, Ryosuke stared blankly for a long time. Only when his phone chimed on the bed did he finally move.

Looking at the information sent back, he traced the name on the screen with his finger.

“Kiyoomi… Sakusa…?! What—why is he at this school?!”

Ryosuke jumped up from the bed in shock, staring hard at his phone.

No wonder he said he was studying in Tokyo. So he’d gone to Itachiyama to play volleyball.

Ryosuke laughed softly and scrolled through his contacts until he found a familiar name.

He sent a short message, then tossed the phone aside.

I’ll get to see Kiyoomi during the training camp. Ah… this is exciting.

He rolled himself up in his blanket and flopped back onto the bed. Soon, his breathing evened out.

A dreamless night followed.

...

The next day during practice, Coach Washijō and the advisor walked in carrying a thick stack of documents.

Ryosuke immediately felt several pairs of curious eyes land on him.

Ryosuke: ??
Cat confused.jpg.

“These are individual profiles for every player from the schools attending this training camp,” the advisor said seriously, spreading the files across the table. “Study them carefully. Learn what’s worth learning from them. I expect that when you come back from camp, you won’t be the same players you are now.”

Goshiki stretched his neck to peek. Each sheet listed a name, along with personality traits, habits, hobbies, preferred attack angles, and playstyle tendencies.

Eita Semi was completely stunned. Were underclassmen this capable nowadays? This was on a whole other level—things were really getting scary.

Yunohama looked at the happily grinning Goshiki with gentle pity. Now he understood—out of the three of them, Goshiki was the most innocent by far.

Goshiki squirmed under that strange gaze.

Ushijima picked up one of the profiles, frowned slightly, and asked, “Isn’t Mujinazaka High School not attending the training camp this time?”

Coach Washijō glanced at the document and replied, “They’re not attending the camp, but they’ll be coming over for two days of practice matches.”

Goshiki curiously asked Ryosuke, “What kind of school is Mujinazaka? I’ve never heard of them.”

Ryosuke sighed. Goshiki’s brain was just too new—things didn’t stick.

“Mujinazaka’s level is hard to judge. They’re stronger than Aobajosai, and about on par with Shiratorizawa. More importantly, their team composition is very similar to ours.

“A power-type wing spiker, extremely precise blocking, and two liberos.”

From behind, Kawanishi slung an arm around both of their necks.

“That’s why whenever we play Mujinazaka, the audience always calls it the ‘Land–Air Battle.’”

Goshiki’s eyes sparkled. “That’s so cool! The Land–Air Battle!”