Chapter 76: Training

At Reon’s words, everyone instinctively packed up their things and headed back to the gym.

Ryosuke and Tsutomu Goshiki sprinted the entire way, terrified that if they were even a little late, they’d get caught by Coach Washijō. Yunohama, on the other hand, walked along at an unhurried pace.

“Relax. The seniors haven’t even left the dorm yet.”

Yunohama called out to the two already running ahead.

Ryosuke didn’t listen. He turned around, grabbed Yunohama, and dragged him into a sprint.

When they reached the gym, only Reon and Ushijima were there.

Seeing them, Reon waved. “Yo, you’re early. Come help clean up.” As he spoke, he handed Tsutomu Goshiki a mop.

“Oh! Got it, Senpai!” Tsutomu Goshiki replied energetically.

Mop in hand, Tsutomu Goshiki tore around the gym like a dog let off its leash.

Yunohama couldn’t wrap his head around it. “Why does Tsutomu Goshiki have endless energy every single day??”

Ryosuke quietly added, “You really can’t compare people. After all, he’s basically Bokuto-senpai’s half-brother from another mother.”

“Huh? What is that ridiculously long title supposed to be?”

Ryosuke laughed teasingly and didn’t answer.

Reon snorted. “That’s not wrong. Throw Kōrai-kun into the mix too, and it’d be unbearable.”

Ushijima nodded silently. “You’d be overwhelmed by the noise.”

“Hahahahaha!” Reon burst out laughing.

By the time the gym was mostly clean, everyone else had arrived as well. Tendo came wobbling in, humming a little tune and dragging a small blackboard behind him.

“La la la, our own school really is the most comfortable, right, Little White Cloth?”

Shirabu looked disgusted. “Don’t call me Little White Cloth. That’s gross.”

“Ehh—Shirabu-kun, you’re so mean!”

“……………”

Shirabu decided to ignore this senior who loved playing the victim.

Once everyone was there, they naturally found clean spots on the floor to sit. Volleyball players were never particularly fussy about things like that.

Well, except for a certain unnamed germaphobe who felt their way of sitting would definitely spread bacteria.

Yamagata scratched his head, looking confused as he held his phone and made a call, glancing around as if searching for something.

Ryosuke glanced over, curious. “Yamagata-senpai, what’s wrong?”

Yamagata chuckled. “I can’t find my phone. No idea where I dropped it, so I’m calling Kawanishi to ask if he’s seen it.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Ryosuke and Reon both looked at him with complicated expressions.

After a moment, Ryosuke cautiously asked Reon, “Is Yamagata-senpai… looking for a donkey while riding one?”

“Ahahahahahaha! Little Ryosuke, that’s spot on!” Reon’s laughter was thunderous.

Yamagata: “?”

Yunohama rubbed his ears. “Ah… Reon-senpai, my ears are dying.”

Ryosuke couldn’t watch any longer. He pointed at Yamagata’s hand. “Yamagata-senpai, what do you think you’re holding right now?”

Yamagata froze. He lowered his hand and saw his phone sitting neatly in his palm…

“Hahahahahahaha!” Eita Semi and Tendo, who had witnessed everything, immediately started laughing at him.

Even Shirabu failed to keep a straight face. Their senior really didn’t seem very bright.

Just as everyone was laughing, Coach Washijō walked in with the advisor teacher.

Catching sight of the coach out of the corner of his eye, Ryosuke instantly wiped the smile off his face. Behold: a one-second face change.

Seeing Reon beside him, Ryosuke sneakily hid behind him, bracing for the storm.

Cat scared.jpg

Sure enough, the next second, Coach Washijō’s booming voice rang out.

“What are you doing?! What’s so funny?! After that pathetic training camp performance, you still have the nerve to laugh? Sit properly, all of you!”

The laughter died instantly. Tendo, who had been laughing too hard, even let out a strangled “Gah.”

The advisor teacher standing behind Coach Washijō couldn’t help but smile with his eyes.

Tendo shot him a resentful look. He knew it—laughter never disappeared, it just changed hands.

Everyone moved with the speed they usually reserved for eating, quickly finding their seats.

Only then did Coach Washijō nod in satisfaction.

Next, he slapped a thick stack of documents onto a chair.

“Take a look. During the training camp, Shiratorizawa played over seventy matches. More than forty wins. The rest were losses. And you’re still laughing?!”

Coach Washijō’s anger was practically lifting the roof.

The group that had been laughing moments ago went silent as mice.

The advisor teacher silently thought to himself that, honestly, this record was already impressive. These were all IH-level powerhouses—maintaining even a fifty-percent win rate would’ve been commendable.

But Coach Washijō hated losing. If he was going to do something, it had to be the best. In his eyes, this win rate simply wasn’t enough.

“I wasn’t slacking off during your training camp either. Even if I wasn’t there every day, everything I needed to know, I know!”

An uneasy feeling spread through the group. They weren’t sure what they’d done wrong, only that Coach Washijō had come to settle accounts.

“I won’t talk about what you did. Let’s talk about your training issues. One by one.

“First, Tsutomu Goshiki! What are you staring at? I’m talking about you! What kind of receives are those? Not a single kneeling receive is up to standard. Don’t think you can skip practice just because you’re not a libero. And your blocking—I can’t even watch it! Are your hands tree branches?! Huh?! That huge gap in the middle, is that for people to walk through?!

“From today on, you’re training blocking and receiving with Ryosuke every day. I’ll check in three days. If you’re still not up to par, don’t bother coming to the next training camp.”

Caught completely off guard, Tsutomu Goshiki looked crushed. His face flushed red, like he might burst into tears at any moment, but he still nodded firmly to show he understood.

“And you, Ryosuke! You barely spiked the entire camp! Was that taught by Satori?! Ryosuke, you’d better fix it fast, or you’re going to suffer.”

“And Shirabu—if you’re learning the second attack, then learn it properly! Why does every second attack land behind the front-row ace? Do you have any idea how many points you’ve lost once people saw through it? If you’re going to learn, then learn it right, understand?!”

Coach Washijō listed every single person’s shortcomings from the training camp in one breath.

Tsutomu Goshiki whispered to Ryosuke, “Is Coach Washijō clairvoyant? How does he know everything?”

Ryosuke: “…………” Sigh. My innocent, pitiful teammate…

After spraying spit for over twenty minutes, Coach Washijō finally finished. He let out a heavy sigh and took a big gulp of tea, clearly worn out from all the talking.

“Alright. These are your training plans leading up to the IH tournament. Some parts are the same, some are different. The advisor teacher will be keeping an eye on you.”

With that, the advisor teacher handed out the stacks of papers.

Ryosuke stared at his plan and fell into deep thought.

Three hundred front squat jumps and back squat jumps a day. Ten kilometers of weighted running. Back training. Sit-ups. Barbell weights…?

His vision swam.

Forget it. This kind of training would kill someone…

He craned his neck to look at everyone else’s plans. Most of them focused on volleyball techniques, not this much physical conditioning. Why was his… oh, and Yunohama’s was the same. What was the point of this?

Coach Washijō took one look at Ryosuke’s expression and knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Do you have no idea about your own stamina? Every time we reach the latter half of the second set, you can’t keep up. All that speed you have goes to waste.”

He shot Ryosuke an irritated glare.

Reon came over to look at the plan as well. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say, only patting Ryosuke on the shoulder sympathetically.

“It’s fine! Hang in there—we all went through this!”

Yunohama and Ryosuke looked at each other, sharing a silent sense of camaraderie.

Kawanishi squeezed in and threw an arm around both of their necks. “At the end of the day, your stamina just isn’t there. Your technique is already good, but your physical condition hasn’t caught up. Look at your muscle layers—way too thin.”

He finished by flexing his biceps.

Ryosuke was genuinely surprised. Kawanishi-senpai looked so slender, yet his muscle mass was impressive.

“Don’t worry,” Coach Washijō continued. “This won’t change your body shape. It’ll just give you more strength.”

Yunohama opened his mouth, hesitated, and ultimately said nothing.

Ryosuke stared at the training plan, already calculating how to squeeze time out of his schedule.

Before the training camp, Mr. Yamamoto had mentioned finding him a coach for hook serves. Time really was tight.