Chapter 36: Departure

After finishing their shopping, everyone walked back together, chatting as they went.

Goshiki walked at the very front, clutching the sneakers he had just bought, so happy he looked like he might take off at any moment.
“I’m so excited! We’re going to training camp tomorrow!”

“Are you a kid or something? Is it really worth getting this excited over a camp?” Yunohama shot back from behind.

“Oh my, Yunohama-kun is really serious,” someone drawled. “You don’t seem like a first-year at all.”

Tendo, who had been walking in the back, caught up in a few long strides. Using his height advantage, he vigorously ruffled Yunohama’s hair. A rare look of confusion flashed across Yunohama’s face.

“Kids should act like kids,” Tendo added cheerfully.

Under Tendo’s “punishment,” Yunohama begrudgingly kept quiet.

Seeing Yunohama’s stiff, resentful expression, Ryosuke held back his laughter, his shoulders trembling as he tried not to laugh out loud.
You really don’t see Yunohama-kun look like this very often.

Ushijima lagged behind at the very end, frowning slightly as he carefully read through the Jump he’d just bought, going word by word from the very first advertisement page.

When Ryosuke glanced back and saw the scene, he paused for a moment.
Hmm… the usually serious captain earnestly studying Jump in his hands somehow felt adorably out of place.

They made their way back in a noisy, lively group. When it was time to part ways, Ushijima specifically reminded the two younger ones.

“Meet at the gym entrance tomorrow morning. Don’t be late.”

After saying goodbye, everyone headed home.

Ryosuke hummed a little tune as he skipped along, his mood unbelievably good.

So many good things had piled up all at once—it felt like opening blind boxes one after another, dreamlike and unreal.

Sometimes, even Ryosuke himself wasn’t sure if this was real. After working so hard for so long, he had reunited with his family and gained a group of teammates.

These were things eleven- or twelve-year-old Ryosuke wouldn’t have dared to dream about, yet now they were truly happening right in front of him.

A gust of wind swept by, scattering his thoughts. Ryosuke snapped back to himself and quickened his pace toward home.

...

When Ryosuke got home, he was still riding his excitement, his cheeks flushed. He hurriedly greeted Mrs. Washijō before rushing upstairs to pack.

His upper body was practically buried inside the wardrobe as he rummaged through his clothes. Behind him, the bed was a total mess, piled high with what looked like a small mountain of clothing.

Mrs. Washijō called for him several times without getting a response. Only then did she remember—Ryosuke was leaving for training camp tomorrow. He must be packing.

With a sigh, she wiped her hands on her apron and went upstairs.

Her thoughts drifted back to when Ryosuke was little and preparing to go far from home. So small back then, he’d completely disappear into the wardrobe while searching for his “treasures.” Sometimes it was a magazine, sometimes piles of snacks, all stuffed into his suitcase.

Once, he’d even secretly packed old man Washijō’s alcohol, claiming he wanted to share it with his friends.

When they got back, he’d been punished to stand for an entire night, crying miserably the whole time.

Even now that he was older, Ryosuke still packed just as messily as he did back then. That bad habit never changed.

Mrs. Washijō stood at the doorway of his room and sighed.

“You little brat! Move aside—I’ll pack for you!”

At her words, Ryosuke crouched and backed out of the wardrobe, only to slam the back of his head with a loud bang.

He clutched his head in pain, tears welling up in his eyes, looking like they were about to fall.

Sniffling, he said in a muffled voice, “Grandma, you do it. I’ll go downstairs and roll an egg.”

Mrs. Washijō waved her hand helplessly, half amused, half exasperated. Kids were always so clumsy. She turned around and started helping him pack.

She didn’t stop until Coach Washijō returned home.

At dinner, Ryosuke devoured the freshly fried tempura, eating so happily his eyes nearly closed. If he had a tail, it probably would’ve been spinning like a propeller.

Mrs. Washijō watched him with a smile. Eating well was a good thing—turn food into energy so the little sapling could grow faster.

She suddenly spoke up.
“Ryosuke, when you’re at training camp, keep an eye on your grandpa. Don’t let him secretly drink, got it?”

Coach Washijō choked a little. Even when he was going out, she still assigned a little spy to watch him? He shot Ryosuke a sharp look.

Ryosuke lifted his head blankly, oil still glistening at the corner of his mouth. Then he remembered what Mrs. Washijō had just said. He put his bowl down, leaned back comfortably in his chair, and patted his round belly.

“Don’t worry, Grandma. I’ll report to you every day.”

He even gave her a mischievous wink. Mrs. Washijō nodded in satisfaction.

Grandsons really are the best—he knows how to help me keep an eye on things.

The two of them completely ignored Coach Washijō’s resentful glare and continued eating dinner at their own pace.

The next morning, when the alarm went off, Ryosuke was still wrapped up in his dreams.

He’d been too excited the night before, fiddling with his phone and playing games with online friends until well past midnight, only barely managing to fall asleep.

Now, he rubbed his groggy eyes and swayed his way to wash up.

Like a wandering ghost, he got dressed, grabbed his suitcase, and headed out.

It wasn’t until the cold wind hit him outside that Ryosuke woke up a little. He yawned and stumbled toward school.

In his head, though, he was grumbling about Washijō. Being a coach must be nice—you even get to sleep in. Someday, I’ll become a coach too, just like Washijō.

After walking for a while, he finally reached the gym. Only two or three people had arrived so far.

Ryosuke sped up and called out in a long, dragging voice,
“Gooood morniiing—”

Kawanishi and Yamagata turned around together and saw the still half-asleep Ryosuke.

“Morning, Ryosuke. Didn’t sleep well?” Kawanishi asked.

Ryosuke smiled sheepishly. “I was too excited. Didn’t sleep much.”

Yamagata chuckled and slung an arm around Ryosuke’s neck.
“When I went to my first training camp, I was so excited I didn’t sleep the whole first night either.”

“Oh, so it’s a tradition?” Ryosuke said thoughtfully.

Then, leaning into Yamagata’s hold, he closed his eyes.

“Huh?!” Yamagata froze when Ryosuke suddenly went limp. Looking down, he realized Ryosuke had fallen asleep and couldn’t help exclaiming in disbelief.

Kawanishi chopped him on the head.
“Shut up, idiot! Don’t wake him!”

Yamagata stiffly shifted and helped Ryosuke sit down on the corridor by the entrance.

People started arriving one after another.

Goshiki and Shirabu walked in while arguing, with Ushijima wedged between them.

Yunohama followed behind helplessly, his face dark with exhaustion.

Tendo and Semi watched the chaos with grins, and from their chatter, it was clear Semi was egging Goshiki and Shirabu on to duel.

Reon covered his face, putting on an expression that clearly said, I don’t know these people.

Only Ushijima remained calmly at the center of the storm, diligently chewing on his rice ball.

Kawanishi sighed.
“Ah… no matter how many times I see this, I still don’t want to admit they’re basically a group of children.”

Yamagata twitched his lips in agreement.

The noise eventually woke Ryosuke. He opened his eyes and saw that everyone had gathered.

He lifted his head in confusion. Tendo noticed the sleepy Ryosuke and reached out to take his hand.

“Alright, alright, Ryosuke. Time to head out.”

The sun had risen, its light bright enough to sting his eyes, making it hard to see his teammates clearly.

Ryosuke used Tendo’s hand to stand up, rubbing his numb limbs. He looked at Tendo and curved his lips into a smile.
“Let’s go, senpai.”