Chapter 58: Training Camp 21

In the end, Coach Washijō still agreed to Ushijima’s proposal. To be honest, it was mostly because he didn’t want to listen to Ushijima talk anymore—so stiff and rigid that it was genuinely infuriating.

After that, everyone went back to training on their own. Ushijima would occasionally drag Ryosuke along to practice spikes, one hitting while the other received.

Ryosuke’s long-anticipated libero exchange sessions were completely ruined by Ushijima. Every night it was either Tsutomu Goshiki or Ushijima, and sometimes Tendo would even pull him into blocking practice. Over the past few days, Ryosuke had visibly wilted.

In the final days of the camp, the Fukurōdani coach announced some news during training.

As everyone was practicing, Coach Takeyuki clapped his hands.

“Alright, everyone, pause for a moment. There are only three days left in the camp. Tomorrow, the students from Mujinazaka High will arrive. For the last two days, there’ll be no structured training. Pick the teams you want and play practice matches.”

The announcement immediately stirred up discussion.

Bokuto rolled his eyes curiously.“Akaashi, is that bastard Kiryū coming?”

“Bokuto-senpai, don’t call people that. It’s rude,” Akaashi said seriously, lowering his gaze. “He’ll be coming.”

On Shiratorizawa’s side, everyone except the three first-years was buzzing with excitement.

“Wakatsu Kiryu and the others are coming,” Reon said to Ushijima, his expression unusually serious.

“Mm. We won’t lose this time.”

Ushijima wiped down a volleyball with a towel without even looking up, as if stating an obvious fact.

Tendo grinned as he slung an arm around Reon’s shoulder.

“Nice! That delinquent middle blocker is coming too. This time, I’m definitely stuffing him.”

Just the name Mujinazaka was enough to set Shiratorizawa’s upperclassmen on fire with fighting spirit.

Tsutomu Goshiki peeked over toward Ushijima’s side, thought for a moment, then went to ask Yunohama and Ryosuke instead.

“Is it the Mujinazaka from the ‘land-and-air station’ you mentioned last time?”

Ryosuke nodded, casually bumping the ball against the wall.

“Tell us more about Mujinazaka. You didn’t really explain it in detail last time.”

“Yunohama, you explain,” Ryosuke said, still practicing his passes while thinking about shuffle-step receiving.

He handed the explanation off to Yunohama.

After smashing the last ball into the basket, Yunohama turned around and was immediately met with Tsutomu Goshiki’s sparkling eyes. When he looked up, he noticed Eita Semi standing nearby.

“Semi-senpai, could you tell us about Mujinazaka High?”

Yunohama swore he absolutely did not want to admit that he’d nearly forgotten about that school.

Hearing the call, Eita Semi walked over, and Yamagata followed to join the fun.

“Mujinazaka is our old rival,” Yamagata said eagerly, hopping over to Ryosuke’s side and passing the ball with him.

Eita Semi rested a hand on Yunohama’s shoulder, which Yunohama immediately smacked away in disgust. Semi pursed his lips but didn’t say anything.

“Mujinazaka, huh,” Semi began. “They’re a powerhouse—IH semifinals regulars. They’ve made it to Nationals nine years in a row, and this will be their thirtieth appearance.”

Tsutomu Goshiki’s mouth fell open. “Wow, that’s incredible!”

Seeing this, Yunohama reached over and closed Goshiki’s mouth with one hand.

“The most noteworthy one is Wakatsu Kiryu. If you put him together with Ushijima-senpai and the others, it’s not just the Top Three Aces anymore—it should be the Top Five Aces in the country.”

“Then there are four now. Who’s the last one?” Goshiki asked.

“You’re focusing on the wrong thing,” Yunohama said, rolling his eyes.

Eita Semi chuckled and ruffled Goshiki’s hair. “The last one doesn’t play volleyball anymore. I don’t even know his name.”

“Mujinazaka and Shiratorizawa run into each other almost every year, whether it’s Spring High or IH. Our win–loss record is basically fifty-fifty. Wakatsu Kiryu has a nickname—‘Bad Ball Specialist.’ It means no matter how bad the toss is, he can adjust with sheer power and adaptability.”

Yamagata stopped passing altogether and leaned in to listen, urging Semi on with his eyes when he paused.

“Right now, Mujinazaka has two middle blockers over 190 centimeters, Wakatsu Kiryu, and a libero with excellent reception. Their lineup is actually pretty similar to ours.

Their libero, Michiko Kuzuri, can handle Ushijima and Bokuto’s spikes one-on-one. Their setter, Usuri, is very stable and has a great jump float serve. Yunohama, after the match, you should go ask him for advice.”

After rattling all that off in one breath, Eita Semi sighed, clearly done talking.

The moment Ryosuke heard there was a libero who could handle spikes solo, he quietly edged closer, unable to hide his curiosity.

When Semi stopped speaking, Yamagata picked it up.

“Those are the standout players. The rest are… well, pretty average. Same as us.”

Yunohama twitched at the corner of his mouth. “Average like Yamagata-senpai,” huh—that was not exactly reassuring.

After hearing everything, Ryosuke stayed quietly excited about Mujinazaka’s libero, and his mood finally lifted. He’d been completely drained these past few days.

That evening, because Mujinazaka was arriving the next day and a match was inevitable, Ushijima started conserving his energy and finally stopped tormenting Ryosuke.

Ryosuke was so happy he felt like he could take off flying. He already had his plan laid out: after dinner, he’d go find Omi-Omi first, then head over with Komori to observe the libero exchange.

He scarfed down a few bites and bolted.

Tendo watched Ryosuke’s retreating figure in confusion and turned to Ushijima.

“Wakatoshi, did Ryosuke get bitten by a dog or something? Why’s he running so fast?”

Ushijima frowned in disapproval. “Satori, watch your words. Ryosuke is going to find Sakusa.”

Tendo immediately regretted opening his mouth, wishing he could slap himself. Why did I say that? This is such a pain.

With a dark expression, he sat back down and viciously bit into the broccoli on his chopsticks, crunching away as if his resentment were about to materialize.

These past few days, aside from regular training, Ryosuke had been running off to Itachiyama whenever he had time, sticking close to Sakusa every day. Both Itachiyama and Shiratorizawa had been suffering for two years straight.

For Itachiyama, it was painful to watch their notoriously obsessive clean freak acting so pathetically attached.

For Shiratorizawa, it was unbearable to see Itachiyama taking advantage of a childhood connection to secretly rope Ryosuke into helping them train. Shiratorizawa had started eyeing Itachiyama like a hostile enemy.

During matches, Shiratorizawa would relentlessly spike at Sakusa. After the match, Sakusa would act pitiful toward Ryosuke, who would go comfort him. That would irritate Shiratorizawa even more, leading to even harsher spikes the next time. Thus, a vicious cycle was born.

If you had to say who was the most unhappy in Shiratorizawa besides Tendo, Tsutomu Goshiki definitely made the list. Since the beginning of the school year, he’d trained together with Ryosuke and Yunohama, and they’d grown close. Now, seeing his friend constantly being “stolen away,” he couldn’t help but feel unsettled.

With Ryosuke gone from the table, Tsutomu Goshiki didn’t know who to talk to. Yunohama’s opening lines were nothing but sarcasm, so Goshiki thought it over and stayed quiet. The atmosphere turned awkwardly silent.

Yamagata glanced from one person to another and silently opened an imaginary private chat.

Yamagata: What’s going on? Is Satori unhappy?
Shirabu: Hah. Pervert.
Reon: You’re right.
Kawanishi: Smiles without saying a word.
Yamagata: ?? Can you guys please talk like normal people?

Kawanishi shot Tendo a meaningful look before focusing on his ramen.

Far away, completely unaware of the battlefield he’d left behind, Ryosuke had no idea what was happening.

Only Yamagata was left behind, curious enough to scratch his head in frustration.

Reon pretended not to understand the looks being exchanged and discussed the new jump technique with Ushijima instead. Without Ryosuke, the dining table felt inexplicably strange.