Chapter 52: Training Camp 15

Reon sat in his chair and shivered, his voice shaking as he spoke.

“What does this have to do with Team Doctor Saito?”

Yunohama looked at him in confusion. “You didn’t know? Team Doctor Saito used to be a professional athlete. He only retired after getting injured. The way he trains now is way easier on the body than what we do.”

Tsutomu Goshiki spoke righteously, “Even so! I’m still not going!”

“Yeah!!” Reon echoed immediately.

Reon and Tsutomu Goshiki were terrified that if they went to see the team doctor, they’d just get pinned down and scraped with the fascia knife again. At this point, they no longer trusted anyone.

“Let’s talk about this after the match,” someone suggested. “For now, have Ryosuke talk to the doctor first—about training injuries, risks, and stuff like that.”

“Why me?!”

Ryosuke grabbed at his hair and let out a helpless roar.

“I don’t want to be treated with a fascia knife either!”

Ushijima patted Ryosuke on the shoulder sympathetically. My friend, looks like you’ll have to go to hell first.

Ryosuke tearfully accused these heartless traitors. Tsutomu Goshiki puffed out his cheeks and started whistling at the ceiling.

Everyone else pretended not to see a thing. Only Ryosuke’s world of being grievously wronged had been achieved.

With tacit understanding, everyone shifted their gaze back to the court. The second set was still locked in a stalemate.

16:13.

Itachiyama was in the lead. If they lost this set, it would be a straight-set loss—an absolutely humiliating outcome.

Sakusa scored another point with his greasy, lazy, corner-cutting ball.

On the opposite side, Kōrai Hoshiumi was already on the verge of cursing.

He rushed forward, grabbed the net with both hands, and shouted at Sakusa,
“Huh?? Can you stop playing so damn soft?! Get serious, will you?!”

The referee saw Hoshiumi getting more and more agitated, like he was about to crawl under the net himself.

“Beep—”
The whistle sounded, and a yellow card warning was issued.

Kōrai Hoshiumi was so angry his “badminton-head” practically looked ready to explode. Sakusa glanced at him calmly, then sauntered away like a proud, aloof big cat.

That only made Hoshiumi even angrier. If Hirugami hadn’t grabbed him by the collar from behind, he might have charged over to start a fight. He was like a powder keg—one spark away from blowing up.

“Calm down, calm down! Hoshiumi, just smash him later!”

Kōrai Hoshiumi returned to his position, still fuming.

Motoya Komori laughed so hard he nearly doubled over, clutching Sakusa’s shoulder as he watched the show.

Sakusa frowned, shaking his shoulder in disgust until Komori’s hand slipped off.

Staring at that hand, he said, “Remember to disinfect it after the match.”

Komori nodded. Iizuna and Taichi Kunihiko walked over to discuss strategy with Sakusa.

“After the next timeout, let Araki play setter. I won’t go in today either. Araki has stronger offensive awareness as a setter. Let him handle the serve too.
If we don’t score and rotate, it’ll be your turn in position one.”

Sakusa nodded. After a few brief words to finalize the plan, Taichi Kunihiko and Araki exchanged a quick nod.

Araki puffed out his chest. “Play well. I’m watching you.”

Taichi Kunihiko nodded seriously and stepped to the service line.

Holding the ball, he took a deep breath. He could hear his teammates encouraging him.

“Serve a good one.”

Even Sakusa, who rarely spoke, added, “Good serve.”

He could also hear the shouting from the other side.

“Ready—one serve to change possession!”

Cheers erupted from the stands.

“Itachiyama, go!”

Countless voices blended together into a roaring chorus. Kunihiko held his breath and looked up at the ceiling.

He bent his knees slightly, cradled the ball with his left hand, and swung his right arm hard.

A perfect overhand serve flew high into the opposing court.

Keiichirō Kanbayashi clearly hadn’t expected an overhand serve from Itachiyama.

He looked up at the ceiling—the lights dazzling, shimmering together with the volleyball, almost leaving afterimages.

Kamihayashi narrowed his eyes, tracking the ball in midair.

Once he locked onto it, he rushed forward, arms raised overhead in a textbook overhand receive.

The ball slammed hard into Keiichirō Kanbayashi’s fingertips and flew off.

Keiichirō Kanbayashi panted heavily, disbelief written all over his face.
“I didn’t get it…”

Cheers exploded from the opposite side.

“Nice!”
“Great job!”
“Kunihiko, when did you get so good?!”

Aikichi Suwa walked over and gave Keiichirō Kanbayashi a solid elbow.

“It’s fine. We’ll take it back next ball.”

Keiichirō Kanbayashi didn’t relax for a second, stepping back onto the court with a serious expression.

With a series of beautiful overhand serves, Taichi Kunihiko shaved off three points and widened the gap with Kamomedai.

If they kept this up until match point, they could take the set.

Everyone on the Itachiyama side stood ready, determined to secure this one.

After the second-set timeout, Araki was subbed in. The final point was taken through Araki’s second-touch attack.

“More than an hour has passed, and two sets are already over. The pace is a bit fast,”
Reon remarked from the stands.

The second set really had been fast. It was obvious that Kamomedai wasn’t good at dealing with this kind of tricky, deceptive play.

After leaving the court, Coach Aaron gathered the players together and spoke briefly.

“How do you think you played this set?”

Gao Hakuba lowered his head dejectedly. he had only managed to block one of Sakusa’s balls.

Coach Aaron clapped his hands.

“Alright, stop hanging your heads. There’s still one last set. Practice matches can be played every day after this. Don’t hesitate, don’t retreat!
The best defense is offense. Don’t think that blocking one ball means everything’s solved. Kids, don’t hold yourselves back. You’re seagulls in the storm—don’t retreat!”

Hirugami gave both Hakuba and Hoshiumi a hard slap on the back.

“Go!”

On the Itachiyama side, they were also regrouping based on the previous set. Sakusa wiped the sweat from his face with a towel.

But his gaze had already drifted toward Ryosuke in the stands.

Ryosuke smiled brightly at Sakusa and made a cheering gesture.

Sakusa pressed his lips together and smiled faintly.

“Sakusa… Sakusa, Sakusa!”

Sakusa snapped back to his senses when he heard someone calling him. He turned around to see Komori staring at him in confusion and awkwardly looked away.

“Sakusa, did you hear what I just said?”

Komori covered his face as he asked, struggling to hold it together. What a rare sight—to actually see Sakusa zoning out while staring at someone.

Is he going to kill me? Komori thought miserably.

“Same plan next set. Swap Kunihiko and Araki. Kishimoto plays at position three. Daishio sits out. We’ll mess with their sightlines. After that, it’s just about who can score more spikes.”

Sakusa frowned and nodded. Then he turned again to stare at Ryosuke in the stands, to the point that Ryosuke started feeling uncomfortable.

He lowered his head shyly. Tsutomu Goshiki noticed the tips of Ryosuke’s ears turning red and tugged at him.

“Is it hot, Ryosuke? Want me to fan you?”

Ryosuke hurriedly waved his hands. “No, no need.”

His face only grew redder.

Sakusa let out a cold laugh as he stared at Tsutomu Goshiki—the little puppy next to Ryosuke desperately trying to show his presence—his gaze sharp enough to cut.

“Beep—”

The referee blew the whistle for the final set.

Sakusa tossed aside his towel and stepped onto the court, with Komori and Araki following behind.

On the opposite side, Kamomedai’s cheering section roared.

The match was about to begin.