Chapter 62: Training Camp 25

Morisuke Yaku and Haruki Komi’s shout really did make their captain famous.

After Tetsurō Kuroo dragged someone away, the gym erupted in laughter. Yamagata clutched his stomach, wheezing as he laughed.
“I really didn’t expect Kōtarō Bokuto to be into something that hardcore—hahahahaha!”

Haruki Komi’s ears were so red they looked like they might start smoking. He covered his face with both hands.

Luckily, Kōtarō Bokuto hadn’t heard any of it. Haruki Komi let out a guilty sigh. Yamato Sarukui poked the withdrawn Haruki Komi, but he didn’t move at all, curled up like a turtle.

Akinori Konoha grinned as he slung an arm around Haruki Komi’s shoulders.
“Komi, if Keiji Akaashi hears about this, you’re dead.”

His eyes were full of schadenfreude. Haruki Komi let out a miserable wail.

Everyone burst into laughter again.

Yamagata checked the time. Not a single one of these people ever spoke seriously, and he was worried they might corrupt Ryosuke, so he took him back first.

On the way back, Ryosuke was in an excellent mood, completely unaware of the strange look Yamagata kept giving him.

Yamagata was secretly sizing Ryosuke up the whole time. Such an outstanding junior, and so delicately good-looking—it was only natural that people would chase after him. He just hadn’t expected it to be a pig from his own team trying to go after Ryosuke, that tender little cabbage.

Yamagata clenched his fists. Satori Tendō already had bad intentions. I absolutely have to protect Ryosuke! Yes!

Simple-minded Yamagata didn’t have any complicated thoughts. He just wanted to protect his teammate.

When they returned to the dorm, everyone was already there, gathered inside and busy with who-knows-what.

That night, everyone tacitly agreed not to train.

They were saving their energy for tomorrow’s match against Mujinazaka—a game they intended to play to their hearts’ content.

Satori Tendō had adjusted his mindset and no longer carried the resentment he’d had at dinner, but with Ryosuke gone, the dorm atmosphere felt a little strange.

“I’m back!”

Ryosuke and Yamagata shouted at the same time.

Reon Ōhira put down the magazine in his hands.
“Oh, you’re back.”

Yamagata excitedly ran off to tell Taichi Kawanishi about the ridiculous scene Fukurōdani and Nekoma had caused earlier.

Taichi Kawanishi lay on his bed, laughing until his eyes curved.

Satori Tendō leaned over next to Wakatoshi Ushijima to look at his magazine. After staring for a while, he realized Ushijima was still reading the advertisements and burst out laughing.

Seeing that, Reon Ōhira finally relaxed a little, thinking that at least Tendō seemed to be in a better mood.

As it got later, Reon Ōhira chased these troublesome kids off to bed one by one.

He forcibly confiscated the phones Tsutomu Goshiki and Ryosuke were using to play games, splitting the two of them up. Seeing this, Yunohama quietly put his phone away and climbed out of bed.

Reon Ōhira nodded in satisfaction.

Next, he grabbed the two setters who were in the middle of fighting, pried them apart, and threatened them into going to sleep.

He swiftly confiscated Wakatoshi Ushijima’s magazine and hauled Satori Tendō away by the collar. Ushijima stared blankly at his suddenly empty hands and sighed. Tomorrow, he’d have to start reading the magazine from the first page again.

Only Yamagata and Taichi Kawanishi were left. Reon Ōhira swept them with a look, and Kawanishi—who had been giggling for no apparent reason—immediately shut his mouth.

Reon Ōhira casually kicked Yamagata back onto his bed.

Yamagata flopped down, just about to shout and pounce back up, but when he noticed how quiet it had become, he seemed to realize something and obediently closed his mouth.

Only now did Reon—the lion, the old father—finally complete his mission, managing to quiet down this group of overly energetic kids.

Reon Ōhira sighed. If it was like this every day, it would definitely shorten his lifespan.

Completely exhausted, he turned off the lights and lay down.

The next morning, Reon Ōhira was the last one to wake up. Yawning and swaying like a ghost, he shuffled off to wash up.

He quickly threw on his uniform and wandered to the cafeteria as if sleepwalking.

Holding his milk, Reon Ōhira looked at everyone sitting properly at the table and eating obediently, and his anger flared up.

“Someone was talking in their sleep last night—and talking all night! And someone was grinding their teeth. Especially you, Yamagata. Sleeping next to you sounds like a fight! No discipline at all!”

Yamagata, who’d been called out, grinned and didn’t take it to heart at all.

The sleep-talking and teeth-grinding duo, Tsutomu Goshiki and Ryosuke, exchanged a glance and didn’t dare make a sound.

Seeing no one respond, Reon Ōhira huffed and finished his breakfast.

That morning, regular training was canceled. The captains from several schools gathered together to draw lots for practice matches.

With Kamomedai’s captain absent, Vice-Captain Aikichi Suwa temporarily acted as captain for the draw.

Aikichi Suwa glanced at Kōtarō Bokuto and Tetsurō Kuroo and snickered quietly.

Bokuto: “?”

Kuroo’s face darkened as if he was about to kill someone. He shot Aikichi Suwa a glare—one look was enough to tell what he was laughing about. Then Kuroo glanced at Bokuto, who was still clueless and completely out of the loop, and got even angrier.

After drawing lots, the captains took them to the coaches to arrange the match order.

The first match was Fukurōdani versus Nekoma. From the back of the crowd, Haruki Komi and Morisuke Yaku exchanged a look, both wearing miserable expressions.

Although Bokuto didn’t know about what happened yesterday, Keiji Akaashi had heard some things from Konoha, and he shot Haruki Komi a chilly glare.

He then looked at Bokuto-senpai, who was still grinning foolishly and shouting that he’d smash Kuroo’s spikes. Kuroo, face dark, nodded in response.

The liberos on both sides trembled and didn’t dare say a word. They probably knew they’d caused trouble yesterday, and not a single one of them dared to speak.

Seeing there was no match for him, Ryosuke could only continue practicing the new techniques he’d learned with everyone else.

Kamomedai and Itachiyama had gone to another gym to train. Ryosuke wanted to go find Sakusa, but the training session really didn’t allow him to leave.

Grumbling softly, they dragged over several large, soft mats and practiced jumping one by one.

After some time, everyone realized the advantages of the padded step jump. It was genuinely quick to pick up. With everyone already having a solid foundation, such a small adjustment wasn’t troublesome at all.

It also greatly reduced the burden on their knees, and Reon Ōhira’s mood had noticeably improved these past few days.

When the Nekoma side started their match, Ryosuke stopped training and ran over, plopping down to watch the game.

Shiratorizawa didn’t even notice that one person was missing from training.

Ryosuke watched with great interest. For some reason, both teams were unusually fierce today, each more aggressive than the last.

Bokuto’s spikes grew more and more powerful, and Kuroo’s blocks were just as formidable.

Ryosuke glanced at the bulging veins and taut muscles in Kuroo’s arms as he blocked, then looked down at his own skinny, chicken-like arms.

He lowered his eyes and sighed softly, looking completely dejected.

An entire training camp had passed—so why hadn’t his arms grown any muscle at all? He’d practiced blocking plenty these past few days.

Unable to figure it out, Ryosuke propped his chin on his hand and continued watching the match.

Last night, Morisuke Yaku and the others had mentioned they’d been practicing a new move: a libero pass from behind the three-meter line. Today, Ryosuke kept his eyes fixed on Yaku.

He understood the three-meter jump, but a three-meter line pass required extremely precise control of force and accuracy in reception.

Kenma Kozume stood motionless at the net, his mind rapidly calculating the optimal scoring routes.

Tetsurō Kuroo was set at position four, ready to move. Yaku lunged to the right, and the ball slammed into his foot, bouncing high into the air.

Shōhei Fukunaga stepped forward and shouted, “I’ve got it!”

Signaling Kenma not to move, he adjusted the first touch and sent the ball cleanly to Kenma.

In the split second the ball flew toward him, Kenma had already finished reading the opposing formation.

Two players were at the net. In the back row were a libero and an opposite, another player was marking him closely, and Bokuto was stirring restlessly on the right side of the net.

Kenma took a deep breath as the ball reached his hands. His gaze subtly guided Akaashi, who was watching him intently.

Seeing Kenma’s eyes flick toward Kuroo, Akaashi immediately slid sideways with small steps.

The corner of Kenma’s mouth curved upward.

Perfect. An empty front court was the ideal attacking position for a setter.