Chapter 39: Training Camp 2

Because there were familiar faces and everyone already knew each other fairly well, they naturally clustered together while waiting for the other schools to arrive.

When Bokuto from Fukurōdani noticed that Shiratorizawa was standing together with Itachiyama, he immediately started yelping excitedly and ran over to join the fun.

Akaashi covered his face with a headache. Their ace was really hard to handle at times. With no other choice, he followed behind Bokuto to keep an eye on him.

Ryosuke noticed that the owl-like guy from Fukurōdani had been staring at him nonstop. The gaze was so intense it was impossible to ignore.

Feeling uncomfortable, he shuffled a little closer to Sakusa. At that moment, Bokuto—who had been observing for a while—leaned in.

“Whoa—no way, you look cool! Can I take a closer look?”

Akaashi, standing behind him, went completely pale.

“Senpai! Please don’t do that!”

Sakusa’s face darkened as he smacked Bokuto’s hand away without hesitation.

Bokuto let out a yelp and quickly withdrew his hand.

Still scowling, Sakusa pulled an alcohol wipe out of his pocket and scrubbed his hands vigorously until his fingers turned red.

Ryosuke smiled awkwardly. Seniors really were… enthusiastic.

“Hello, senpai. I’m Ryosuke Hanyu from Shiratorizawa.”

Bokuto’s drooping hair instantly perked up.

“Oh! I’m Kōtarō Bokuto! You can call me Kōtarō!”

The owl proudly introduced himself with his hands on his hips.

Akaashi buried his face in his hands. It looked like Bokuto-senpai really liked Shiratorizawa’s new freshman.

Sakusa’s expression was dark enough to rival the bottom of a pot. Bokuto-senpai, I hope you survive this.

Sakusa reached out, dragged Ryosuke over to his side, and sprayed him thoroughly with disinfectant from head to toe before finally stopping.

Ryosuke stood there obediently, letting Sakusa fuss over him without complaint.

Nearby, Kawanishi and Yamagata huddled together with cartons of milk, whispering.

“This scene feels kind of dangerous…”

“Yeah… something’s off.”

Goshiki noticed Ryosuke being stuck to by that weird masked guy. With no way to intervene, he dragged Yunohama around looking for someone else to provoke. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Bokuto in the crowd.

Vaguely recalling how a coach once called him “little Bokuto,” Goshiki puffed out his chest, ready to challenge him.

By now, Yunohama was extremely familiar with Goshiki’s habits—see someone strong, immediately challenge them. Reacting instantly, he stopped Goshiki again and dragged the flailing boy into a corner to watch the chaos.

After a while, another school arrived, wearing especially festive red uniforms.

Ryosuke looked up at their leader, baffled.

“Cockscomb hair… pudding head…?”

His face was full of confusion.

Then yet another school arrived, leaving him even more lost.

“Badminton…? Cauliflower…?”

Ryosuke genuinely couldn’t understand why everyone’s hairstyles were so strange. At the moment, Shiratorizawa seemed the most normal…

…or so he thought.

He suddenly remembered that Shiratorizawa had its own oddities too—like Shirabu-senpai’s uneven bangs with that strange gap.

He shot Shirabu a complicated look.

Shirabu suddenly sneezed, completely out of nowhere. Reon looked at him nervously.

“You’re not catching a cold, are you?!”

Shirabu rolled his eyes.

“No.”

Once most of the other schools had arrived, Fukurōdani’s coach and several other coaches finally showed up.

The coach stepped onto the gym’s main stage, tapped the microphone, and prepared to speak.

“Ahem… welcome, everyone, to Fukurōdani High School.”

Such a formal opening. Down below, Ryosuke absentmindedly played with Sakusa’s fingers while his thoughts wandered.

…Sakusa’s hands really are nice.

“This training camp will last for half a term. Morning practices will be held here in the gym.
Training plans will be decided by each school’s coach. In the afternoons, practice match opponents will be determined by lottery.
Captains will draw lots shortly. Teams that draw the same number will face each other the next afternoon. There will be two practice matches every afternoon.”

Reon thought for a moment before speaking up.

“Isn’t that risky? What if our captain has terrible luck and keeps drawing the same school every time?”

Kawanishi laughed and patted Reon on the back.

“It won’t be that bad.”

As soon as he said that, everyone from Shiratorizawa turned to look at him.

Kawanishi slowly scanned their faces and fell silent.

Shirabu hesitated, then said,

“Then explain why, every single time we draw for serve before a match, we never get first serve…”

Ushijima frowned in confusion, looking uncharacteristically unsure.

“I don’t know.”

Tendo sighed, lowering his head as he wrapped tape around his hand.

“Wakatoshi-kun’s luck in that regard is… hard to talk about.”

Ryosuke and Goshiki simultaneously shifted their gaze toward Ushijima, their thoughts lining up perfectly.

So the captain has this kind of trait too?
If I become captain one day, will I end up like this as well…?

On stage, the coach hadn’t heard their murmuring and continued.

“After the afternoon practice matches, you’re free to ask other schools for advice or do extra training—we won’t interfere. However, if you lose your practice match, you’ll get to experience Fukurōdani’s specialty: the sprint hill.
The last one to reach the top will have to run another round.”

Ryosuke swore that the moment the sprint hill was mentioned, he could visibly see the expressions of the Fukurōdani players change.

Only Bokuto, whom he’d just met, still looked as carefree as ever.

Ryosuke squeezed Sakusa’s fingers.

Sakusa tilted his head slightly, questioning. Ryosuke leaned closer and whispered,

“What exactly is Fukurōdani’s specialty sprint hill?”

Looking into Ryosuke’s bright eyes, Sakusa felt his heart go strangely soft, like it had been soaked in water—crumpled, yet tender beyond belief.

“The sprint hill is an uphill slope of about 1,500 meters. That’s probably what they mean. People at Fukurōdani say one lap is already unbearable.”

Ryosuke nervously touched his legs, his expression twisting.

He’d thought that training camp meant no running. Not only did he have to run—he had to run uphill.

Cat scared.jpg.

Once the announcements were over, dorms were assigned, and everyone was told to gather at the gym later to get to know each other. They mentioned that in a few days, mixed-school teams might be formed.

“Get used to different positions. You might gain something unexpected.”

When they were dismissed, Ryosuke stubbornly clung to Sakusa, refusing to head to the dorms.

Sakusa wasn’t any better—he leaned bonelessly against Ryosuke. The two stuck together like taffy, making it painful for Komori to watch.

Reon covered his face with a headache. Who would’ve thought the one who seemed easiest to handle would be so troublesome in certain areas?

No matter what, he didn’t want to go back.

In the end, Ushijima stepped in, pried Ryosuke off Sakusa, and dragged him away.

Ryosuke left looking thoroughly unwilling.

Semi let out a snort of laughter. This sense of déjà vu…

Yamagata looked completely lost, having no idea what Semi was laughing about.

Semi finally explained.

“Don’t you think Ushijima looks exactly like the villain breaking up a couple right now? Hahahaha!”

Yamagata looked at the dragged-away Ryosuke, the Sakusa practically radiating dark energy, and Ushijima’s grim expression.

Strangely enough, it didn’t feel out of place at all.

He shook his head, amused.