Chapter 84 - 95

Chapter 84: Puppy Poop

“Ryosuke, are you playing in tomorrow’s practice match?” Iwaizumi popped open his can of cola with a crisp snap and handed it over.

Ryosuke shook his head—then nodded.

Iwaizumi: “?”

“I’m not sure,” Ryosuke said honestly. “Coach said he’ll try to get us all on the court.”

Oikawa suddenly popped up from nowhere and slung an arm around Ryosuke’s neck. “You’d better not play, heh heh. Otherwise I’ll have Iwa-chan smash you into the ground.”

“What are you saying, Trash-kawa?” Iwaizumi knocked him on the head without hesitation.

Oikawa clutched his forehead, looking aggrieved, while Ryosuke snickered beside them.

Udai, who happened to be passing by after work, saw the scene and smiled, eyes curving warmly. Youth really was a wonderful thing.

Seeing it was getting late, Oikawa and Iwaizumi packed up and headed home.

Oikawa waved vigorously at Ryosuke. “See you tomorrow!”

Ryosuke felt like his good mood might overflow at any second. He couldn’t quite explain why he was so happy—it was a quiet kind of satisfaction, a fullness in his chest. Maybe it was simply because he had so many good friends now.

“See you tomorrow, Senpai.”

The next morning, Ryosuke woke up early, brimming with anticipation. Ever since returning from training camp, they’d only played the occasional 3v3 among themselves. They hadn’t faced any outside teams in a while.

He wanted to know how much he’d improved.

They had already been informed that Aobajosai would be coming today. Before Seijoh arrived, Coach Washijō gathered everyone to announce the lineup.

With his hands behind his back, Coach Washijō swept his gaze over the team. Anyone caught in his line of sight instinctively lowered their head. His presence was simply too overwhelming—one more second of eye contact and you felt like you’d get scolded.

Only Goshiki, that simple-minded kid, held his chin high, eyes blazing.

Coach Washijō let out a faint chuckle.

“Alright. Today’s lineup: Ushijima, Goshiki, Semi, Kawanishi, Tendo, and Ryosuke. Goshiki, you’re at position three. Kawanishi and Tendo, keep an eye on him. Semi, don’t pull anything fancy. Moments of inspiration are fine—but don’t take unnecessary risks during a match.”

“Yes!”

The moment Goshiki heard he was starting, he looked like flowers were blooming over his head.

Ryosuke was still stunned. “Coach… I’m playing libero?”

Coach Washijō nodded. “Mm.”

“Oh… okay!”

Strangely, Ryosuke wasn’t as ecstatic as he once would have been. In the past, being able to play libero in a match would’ve made him so happy he might have done a somersault on the spot.

But after spending so long as a middle blocker, he’d come to appreciate that role too. Aside from the wing spikers, it was one of the few positions with offensive opportunities. In its own way, it was a pillar of the team.

Deep in thought, he drifted away.

Goshiki, still buzzing, ran up to Ushijima.

“Ushijima-senpai! I’ll prove to you that I’m the strongest ace!”

Ushijima was drinking water. Hearing that, he gave a calm nod. “Do your best.”

That simple sentence was enough to satisfy Goshiki completely.

“Oh! I will!”

Ushijima watched the starting lineup, faintly puzzled. The arrangement and positions were very different from before. Coach Washijō had always embodied strength and steadiness. At some point, though, he had begun to adapt.

It was like watching an elderly man slowly learn how to use a smartphone.

Before Ryosuke came, Coach Washijō had been rigid, immovable. After Ryosuke’s arrival, he had gradually begun to change.

No matter how formidable he was, Coach Washijō was still human. He had his own preferences. He didn’t want Ryosuke stuck in a team full of glaring weaknesses, charging blindly forward, only to have his brilliance buried in the shadow of his seniors.

So he began to change.

No one anticipated Ryosuke’s growth more than he did. The prodigy he had personally nurtured carried both his ambition and his affection—two completely opposite emotions that somehow coexisted naturally within him.

…

Meanwhile, Ryosuke was still lost in thought, seriously weighing the pros and cons of libero versus middle blocker.

Yamagata nudged his shoulder with an elbow. “What are you spacing out about? So happy you’ve gone stupid?”

Ryosuke snapped back and turned solemn.

“Yamagata-senpai, you’re a real man.”

Yamagata blinked. “Huh? Really? Heh heh…”

He didn’t know what to say, so he just laughed awkwardly.

Ryosuke went back to practicing, and for some reason, the spikes he sent down grew fiercer and fiercer.

Goshiki walked over looking confused—and came back looking even more confused.

Yunohama asked, “What happened? What did he say to you?”

Goshiki looked dazed. “I don’t know. He just said my spikes look like puppy poop. Yunohama… was he insulting me?”

Yunohama had no answer. He walked away with a complicated expression.

Trying to guess what Ryosuke was thinking was pointless. You’d never figure it out.

After a while, a chorus of voices rose from outside the gym.

Reon set down his volleyball and went to check. “Guys, Seijoh’s here.”

Ushijima, who had been training beside Ryosuke just seconds ago, was suddenly already at the entrance.

Ryosuke blinked. Where did my captain go?

He hurried over to join the crowd.

The Seijoh players approached in their green uniforms, Oikawa strutting at the very front.

“Iwa-chan, how’s my hairstyle today?”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes without responding, but when he spotted Ryosuke, he walked over to greet him.

“You playing today?”

Ryosuke beamed. “Of course.”

Hearing that, Oikawa stopped fussing with his hair. “Ha! Little Ryosuke, today you’ll witness how the dashing Oikawa-sama defeats you.”

Ryosuke just smiled and accepted the challenge.

“You know him?” Ushijima’s steady voice sounded beside him.

Ryosuke nodded.

Ushijima turned to Oikawa. “Long time no see, Toru Oikawa. You should—”

“Captain!” Ryosuke quickly interrupted.

Ushijima looked at him in confusion. Ryosuke covered his face, unwilling to watch his naturally blunt captain in action.

Pulling him aside, he whispered, “Captain, if you talk like that, Oikawa-senpai will get mad.”

Ushijima tilted his head. “Why?”

Ryosuke felt exhausted. “You need to be more tactful. If someone told you to your face that your playing wasn’t good enough, wouldn’t you get angry?”

“My playing isn’t bad.”

“…That’s not the point!”

They continued whispering, but ultimately reached no conclusion.

Oikawa spotted Ushijima. “Ha! Annoying Ushiwaka, just wait until Oikawa-sama beats you to tears!”

Ryosuke immediately felt another headache coming on. Were his captain and Oikawa-senpai really captains? Why were they both so childish?

“Enough. Stop fooling around and line up,” Seijoh’s Coach Irihata barked, glaring at Oikawa. Oikawa instantly quieted down.

After exchanging greetings, both teams returned to their respective courts.

“You know Oikawa?” Kawanishi hooked an arm around Ryosuke’s neck.

“Yeah. I go to Sendai Gymnasium sometimes, and I run into them.”

“Oh? So you’ve been sneaking off for extra practice?”

Ryosuke stiffened.

The moment those words were spoken, five or six people nearby turned in unison to stare at him. For volleyball players, the phrase “extra practice” was extremely sensitive.

Ryosuke lowered his head guiltily, stammering, his catlike eyes darting around.

Goshiki reacted first. “So when you leave early every day, you’re going to train?”

Yunohama adjusted his glasses. “Ryosuke, sneaking ahead like that isn’t very ethical.”

Reon snorted. “Secretly training without telling us, huh?”

One sentence after another made Ryosuke feel like shrinking into the floor.

Finally, Yamagata stepped in. “Alright, that’s enough. Stop teasing him. What if you make him cry?”

Ryosuke’s face flushed red as he silently shuffled behind Yamagata, hiding there without a word.

...

Chapter 85: The Libero Takes the Court

Everyone crowded around Ryosuke, voicing their dissatisfaction about him secretly doing extra practice. Knowing he was in the wrong, Ryosuke didn’t argue. He just pouted, looking dejected.

Over on Aobajosai’s side, Oikawa leaned toward Iwaizumi and said with a sly grin, “Ryosuke’s probably playing today. Tell Hanamaki and Matsukawa to mark him closely.”

This was Oikawa’s highest level of treatment—usually reserved only for Ushijima.

Shinji Watari looked at him curiously. “That serious? Mark him one-on-one?”

Iwaizumi nodded solemnly. “No joke. You’ll see once he’s on the court.”

After warming up in the waiting area for about twenty minutes, both sides began heading onto the court one after another.

When Oikawa saw Ryosuke step out wearing the libero jersey, his vision went dark.

What?! Ryosuke’s playing libero? Then we can’t even target him!

Oikawa and Iwaizumi exchanged a look, both grim-faced.

If a coach dared to move a middle blocker to the libero position during a match, it could only mean one thing—his receiving was even stronger than his blocking.

The look in Oikawa’s eyes grew more serious. This was going to be a tough fight.

The match began with the captains drawing for serve.

Ushijima stepped forward and unconsciously glanced back. A whole group of people were looking at him with sympathetic expressions. He felt a little stifled.

He reached out and drew the lot without much enthusiasm. As expected, serve went to Aobajosai.

Oikawa burst into wild laughter. “Ahh, Ushiwaka, your luck really isn’t great, huh? Hahahahaha—hic!” He laughed so hard he started hiccupping.

Ushijima sighed and walked back quietly.

For some reason, Ryosuke felt like he could see a hint of grievance and frustration on Ushijima’s face. He wanted to laugh—but didn’t dare. His expression froze awkwardly, twisting his delicate features.

He tried to pat Ushijima’s shoulder, only to realize he was far too tall. In the end, he settled for patting his arm.

“Captain, don’t worry! I won’t let Oikawa-senpai score a single point!”

Ushijima’s expression improved slightly.

The whistle blew, and both teams took their positions.

Ryosuke quietly considered how to receive this serve.

He had seen Oikawa’s serve before. It was similar to Ushijima-senpai’s, but faster and without spin. It should actually be a bit easier to handle.

If Oikawa heard that, he would definitely shout, “I hate you geniuses the most!”

On the sidelines, Reon narrowed his eyes. Ryosuke had spent so long polishing his blocking that people had nearly forgotten—his true weapon was his receive.

He suddenly recalled that freshmen entrance match, the suffocating feeling of being completely shut down.

Semi, who had always clashed with Oikawa, wore a wicked grin, practically radiating dark energy.

Ryosuke could finally go torment someone else. Oikawa, prepare to be punished.

Oikawa looked at his teammates seriously. “Today, I trust all of you.”

It was as if Aobajosai had been given some mysterious buff—they instantly snapped into match mode.

Oikawa turned, tossed the ball high, took a few running steps, and leaped fiercely into the air like a bamboo shoot bursting upward.

His palm sliced through the air, sending the ball flying toward Shiratorizawa’s court.

Reon muttered, “Why do these guys look so skinny but have endless stamina?”

Ryosuke fixed his eyes on the incoming ball and made his judgment almost instantly. Out. There was no way it was brushing the line—it was aimed right at him.

He sidestepped cleanly. “Out!”

“Whistle—!”

“Oh! Nice judgment!” Semi grinned, ruffling Ryosuke’s hair.

“What?! I actually messed up?! Aaaah! Sorry!” Oikawa grabbed his hair and howled.

Hanamaki said to Matsukawa, “Told you. His first serve today was definitely going out. Strutting around like a peacock—you’d think he was trying to attract a mate.”

Matsukawa silently covered Hanamaki’s mouth.

Iwaizumi picked up a volleyball and slammed it solidly against Oikawa’s head. “Focus, Trash-kawa!”

Oikawa nodded pitifully.

Shiratorizawa scored and rotated to serve. Ushijima walked calmly to the service line with the ball.

“Captain, let’s go!”

“Get three points off this!”

“Bring it on!!”

Ushijima gave a calm nod. The whistle sounded.

He stood completely still.

On Aobajosai’s side, tension snapped tight. Not until the eighth second did Ushijima strike the ball precisely on time.

Watari choked and cursed under his breath as he chased it down, barely managing a shaky first touch.

“Nice receive, Watari!”

Oikawa genuinely thought it was impressive. Ushijima’s serve wasn’t something just anyone could dig, let alone turn into a usable first pass.

Yahaba quickly moved to adjust the ball.

Oikawa analyzed the block in an instant.

Triple block. Goshiki and Tendo in the center, Semi closing in from the side.

Oikawa immediately targeted Goshiki, giving a quick feint—fake set, real spike—trying to trick the poor kid.

Unexpectedly, Goshiki didn’t bite. He braced his arms tightly, wedged between Semi and Tendo without hesitation.

Oikawa had no choice but to force a second attack.

Just as Ryosuke predicted, that second touch could only fall to the right rear of the middle blocker.

He received it cleanly.

Oikawa frowned at Goshiki. What was going on? Wasn’t this kid supposed to be the simple, easy-to-fool type?

Ryosuke shifted his weight onto his left foot and, in a split second, sent up a perfect set for a direct spike.

It landed exactly above Goshiki’s head.

Goshiki’s eyes sparkled. Without hesitation, he jumped and smashed it down.

This was something unique to the genius libero and the little ace—no one else could replicate it.

Goshiki clenched his fist. “Wooooah! Ryosuke, you’re amazing! That ball went shua right over my head, then I cua jumped up, and bang—point! That was awesome!”

Semi tilted his head. “What language is that?”

Tendo scratched his cheek. “It’s communication between single-celled organisms.”

The match continued. For Aobajosai, losing two points right at the start felt like a dimensional drop.

Oikawa could clearly sense something different about Shiratorizawa this time. The feeling of danger in his chest kept growing heavier.

On the bench, Yamagata laughed loudly beside Reon. “Did you see Oikawa’s face? Total disbelief.”

He meant the expression Oikawa wore when Goshiki hadn’t fallen for the trick.

Reon pulled Yamagata upright before he laughed himself off his chair. “If Goshiki couldn’t see through that, Kawanishi and Ryosuke would’ve killed him.”

Poor Goshiki was Ryosuke’s favorite sparring partner. Anytime Ryosuke came up with something new, he dragged Goshiki along to test it. When Ryosuke wanted to slack off, he especially liked playing that way. Goshiki had suffered terribly during that period.

Now Oikawa’s half-hearted little performance couldn’t fool him anymore.

On the court, Shiratorizawa maintained a steady two-point lead.

Neither side had broken the balance yet.

When Ryosuke cleanly received Oikawa’s serve for the sixth time, Oikawa frantically raked his fingers through his hair.

“Aaaah! This is so annoying! Damn it, Ryosuke! Why didn’t you tell us you were this good at receives?!”

Ryosuke stood across the net, looking innocent. “You never asked.”

An invisible arrow pierced Oikawa’s fragile heart.

Yunohama shook his head. Another poor soul backstabbed by Ryosuke’s natural airheadedness.

Coach Irihata called a timeout. He said nothing, simply sat there calmly, eyes half-closed as if dozing.

Oikawa began seriously analyzing Ryosuke.

If this were the old Shiratorizawa, they might still have a chance. But now, with Ryosuke added into the mix—and that Goshiki kid not exactly easy to deal with either—

Shiratorizawa’s entire style had changed.

Damn it.

Oikawa cracked his fingers anxiously.

Iwaizumi saw him sitting alone in the corner, deep in thought. He stayed silent, but in his mind echoed the words Oikawa had once used to comfort Ryosuke.

Oikawa, I hope you can figure it out yourself.

The timeout ended.

Both sides returned to the court. Oikawa adjusted his expression and instantly slipped back into game mode, playing while constantly scanning the court, already calculating his next countermeasure.

...

Chapter 86: The Genius on the Court

After the timeout, Oikawa returned to the court without saying a word. In his mind, this was a match they were destined to lose—just like every other time they’d faced Shiratorizawa. Now, with new blood added to the lineup, the pressure felt even more suffocating.

His expression was serious as he tossed the ball in his hand. There were no thunderous cheers in Shiratorizawa’s gym for him this time, and he didn’t dare look back.

His palm struck the volleyball hard enough to leave a deep indentation, ripples spreading across its surface like layered waves.

Once the ball flew off, Oikawa’s gaze locked onto Ryosuke.

“I’ve got it!” Ryosuke called out, signaling Kawanishi in front not to take the ball.

Like a black cat, Ryosuke’s presence on the court wasn’t loud or overwhelming. He seemed almost soft, almost quiet—curled in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to bare his claws, silently dissolving every crisis.

He moved fast, targeting the three-meter line. Two quick steps—then a clean dive.

Right before hitting the floor, he adjusted his hand position slightly against the ground. As the ball met his arms, he lifted it gently, using just the right touch to perfectly correct the angle of the first pass.

The ball floated toward Kawanishi. A textbook pass—any attacker would spike it without hesitation.

“Thanks!” Kawanishi spread his arms and hammered it down.

At the net, Semi shut his eyes and clutched his head. “Did you all forget there’s still a setter standing here?!”

“Ah, sorry, sorry! With a ball like that, any hitter would want to spike it!” Kawanishi scratched his head with a grin that didn’t sound particularly apologetic.

Watari stared at Ryosuke, who was once again at the center of everything. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t envious. Ryosuke was only a first-year.

Watari quietly clenched his fist.

Shiratorizawa swept through the first set with unstoppable momentum.

Aobajosai’s side felt noticeably subdued.

Their advisor, Mizoguchi, quietly nudged Irihata. “Aren’t you going to comfort them?”

Irihata patted his round belly. “Every young person goes through this. This old man won’t interfere. Oikawa may be unreliable in daily life, but when it comes to volleyball, he’s dead serious.”

Sure enough, Oikawa, who had been sitting alone in thought, suddenly gathered everyone into a huddle.

That familiar carefree smile returned to his face. He rubbed a few heads in passing and clapped his hands.

“Alright! I know no one wants to lose. Don’t sulk.

“When the gap in skill is real, beating yourself up won’t change anything. Treasure this match. Treasure every match.”

Hanamaki scratched his head. “I’m not upset. I just ate too many cream puffs at lunch and now I’m hungry.” His voice trailed off under Iwaizumi’s murderous glare.

Iwaizumi shot him a look. “All you think about is cream puffs!”

Oikawa rubbed his forehead. “Then sit out and rest. Kunimi will sub in next set.”

“Got it.”

“Huh?!” Kunimi, who had been dozing in the corner, looked up. “Captain, I’m only a first-year.”

Oikawa slung an arm around his shoulders. “So what? They’ve got two first-years too. You’re already a starter, right? Of course you have to contribute. We’re all counting on you.”

Kunimi rolled his eyes. “Oikawa-senpai, don’t try to trick me like I’m Kindaichi.”

Oikawa: “…”

He couldn’t help kicking Kunimi lightly. “When I say you’re playing, you’re playing! How dare you defy Oikawa-sama? Want me to turn you into Godzilla?”

Iwaizumi’s glare shot over. Oikawa instantly fell silent.

“Childish,” Kunimi muttered.

Still, he went onto the court, looking as unmotivated as ever.

At the start of the second set, Aobajosai’s atmosphere improved slightly.

Even Shiratorizawa relaxed a little. No one enjoyed that suffocating tension, not even opponents.

Ryosuke quietly observed Kunimi. At first glance, he reminded him of Kenma… that detached air, like nothing mattered unless it personally interested him. Definitely Kenma No.2.

And the more he watched, the more accurate the comparison felt. Kunimi wasn’t good at socializing or explaining tactics. He functioned in his own rhythm. Maybe he still needed time to mesh with the team.

Goshiki, meanwhile, seemed to have locked onto Kunimi. Over several rotations, they kept lining up opposite each other.

Goshiki disliked players who lacked visible fire.

A trace of provocation flickered in his eyes. As he prepared to spike a set from Semi, he deliberately aimed to brush the ball past Kunimi’s ear.

Kunimi waited like a hunter, watching for the slightest flaw.

The moment Goshiki swung—

Kunimi’s hand shot up and stuffed the ball cleanly.

Goshiki stared in disbelief.

Kunimi flexed his slightly throbbing arm and didn’t even look back, radiating the kind of coolness that said real men don’t turn around after an explosion—leaving Goshiki standing there dumbfounded.

Tendo patted Goshiki’s shoulder. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Get the next one.”

Kunimi, meanwhile, glanced at his swelling arm and thought, Blocking too many of those might actually kill me.

The match continued.

At 20–20 in the second set, Irihata opened his eyes. “Ah… they’re about to lose.”

Mizoguchi looked puzzled. “It’s still tied.”

Irihata chuckled. “You’re young—you can’t see it yet. We’re running out of steam. Some can’t keep up physically. Some are shaken mentally. Some are too stubborn to accept it.

“Shiratorizawa still has a libero on court, and their middle blocker and setter are resting on the bench.

“These freshmen… the younger generation is formidable.”

Oikawa threw himself at one of Ushijima’s spikes, but the ball smashed into his shoulder and ricocheted away.

Ah. Lost again.

The thought echoed in his mind.

He’d lost many times before. But this was the first time he felt the gap between Shiratorizawa and Aobajosai had widened this much.

A heavy sense of defeat settled in his chest.

Was this what it felt like—to be ordinary among geniuses?

He hated that part of himself. So many geniuses…

After the match, both coaches exchanged friendly greetings.

Ryosuke noticed Oikawa sitting alone in the corner, staring blankly.

He quietly shuffled over and tugged at Oikawa’s sleeve. For a long moment, he couldn’t find the right words. Finally, he blurted out,

“Don’t be sad…”

Oikawa forced a smile. “Thanks, little Ryosuke…

“I just feel useless. Everyone put their hopes on me as captain. In three years, I never led them to Nationals even once. Do they think I’m useless?”

Ryosuke crouched down and drew circles on the floor, quietly listening.

“Do we have to win?” he asked softly. “Does playing volleyball mean you have to win?”

Oikawa didn’t answer.

“Winning makes you happy. Losing makes you sad. But nothing is absolute. That’s what you told me, Senpai. You can’t trap yourself like this.

“You’re amazing. Ushijima-senpai, Iwaizumi-senpai, Reon-senpai, Kageyama… so many people think you’re amazing. I think you are too.”

Oikawa let out a quiet huff. “But you still received my serve.”

Ryosuke thought for a moment, then carefully suggested, “Then… next time, should I go easy on you?”

Oikawa blinked, then rubbed his head with a sighing laugh. “You’re so dumb. Hmph. I don’t need you going easy on me. I’m Oikawa-sama.

“Bring me milk bread for a week, and I’ll forgive you.”

Not quite sure what he needed forgiveness for, Ryosuke still nodded obediently. As long as Oikawa-senpai was happy.

Men were really hard to cheer up. Iwaizumi-senpai and Akaashi-senpai must have it tough.

“Hey! Trash-kawa! Aren’t you leaving?”

“Don’t call me Trash-kawa, Iwa-chan! I’m coming!”

Oikawa ruffled Ryosuke’s hair one more time. “See you tonight, little Ryosuke. Bye~”

Ryosuke waved back blankly. “Bye~”

...

Chapter 87

At dusk, after practice, Ryosuke stayed behind in the gym with Iwaizumi and Oikawa, chatting quietly about tomorrow’s match against Date Tech High.

Oikawa shot a disdainful look at Ryosuke, who was sitting on the railing and swinging his legs.

“Since you comforted me today, I’ll reluctantly tell you about Date Tech High. Their most famous weapon is their block. Compared to them, your blocking is like precision interception, while theirs is indiscriminate interception.”

Iwaizumi bounced a ball as he spoke. “We scheduled a match with Date Tech High before. Their standard setup is at least a three-man block—Aone, Futakuchi, and their new setter, Koganegawa. That’s the base configuration.”

Ryosuke’s eyes widened. “Whoa… that intense?”

Oikawa nodded. “Of course. Their blockers are all big and solid—not skinny like you, little chick.”

Ryosuke puffed out his cheeks and glared at Oikawa. It had absolutely no intimidation factor.

“Enough, you talk too much,” Iwaizumi warned, raising his fist at Oikawa.

“They also have two first-year blockers—Jingo Fukiage and Yutaka Obara. Both over 186 cm. You guys are in for a fight tomorrow.”

Ryosuke’s thoughts immediately shifted to strategy. “Then… maybe I’ll talk to Coach Washijō tomorrow. Maybe I should block too?”

Oikawa clapped his palm. “Sure! Then we’ll definitely come watch!”

“Hey! I didn’t say I was going to—”

Iwaizumi looked at Ryosuke’s sparkling eyes and coughed lightly. “Well… going to watch wouldn’t hurt.”

Ryosuke let out a small cheer, grabbed the railing, and jumped down. His jacket fluttered like butterfly wings as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and grinned.

“You said it—no backing out. I’m heading home!”

He skipped out of the gym.

Oikawa watched his retreating figure and muttered, “At his age, still carrying a backpack like a little kid. Embarrassing.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “Why do you care? If I remember right, Ryosuke used to train alone.”

“Huh? Alone?”

“Yeah. So what are you so shocked about?”

Oikawa felt faint. Getting all his serves received by some brat who never even had formal training? That was humiliating.

Ryosuke, meanwhile, happily went home.

The moment he saw boiled vegetables and chicken breast on the dinner table, his smile vanished. He wrapped himself around Mrs. Washijō’s arm and complained, “Why are we eating this again? My control period is already over~”

Like they said, birds of a feather flock together. Mrs. Washijō had once been a famous nutritionist who specialized in athletes’ diets.

She flicked Ryosuke’s forehead. “Don’t think I don’t know what you stole last night.”

Ryosuke froze. Busted?!

He immediately let go and shuffled away guiltily.

The night before, he’d dreamed about sweets and woken up craving them. In the middle of the night, he snuck downstairs and finished off Coach Washijō’s little cakes from the fridge.

The evidence—crumb wrappers—had been hidden under his pillow. Mrs. Washijō found them while cleaning his room.

She didn’t know whether to laugh or scold him. Still sneaking food like a child.

And those little cakes? No one in the house liked them except Ryosuke. Obviously Coach Washijō had bought them secretly in case Ryosuke got cravings. The two of them were unbelievable.

Ryosuke finished dinner with a long face and slipped upstairs.

He flopped onto his bed and started chatting with Sakusa through messages. Ever since training camp ended, he hadn’t seen him.

Watching the loading circle spin on his screen, Ryosuke sighed and rolled around hugging his pillow.

“Ding.”

His phone buzzed. He picked it up eagerly—just a notification. He was about to put it down when the headline caught his eye.

“Childhood friends stay together the longest.”

Ryosuke blinked and slowly sat up on his bed.

The post claimed that people who grew up together often remained close for many years. The so-called probability sounded impressively high.

Ryosuke stared at the screen for a moment.

So… does that mean Sakusa and I will stay close for a long time?

He thought about it briefly, then bookmarked the post without much fuss.

Just then, Sakusa’s reply came through. Ryosuke quickly started typing back.

After chatting for a bit, he put down his phone.

After the practice match, I’ll go see Sakusa. He said he missed hanging out too.

With that thought in mind, he finally drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Goshiki immediately noticed that his best friend was in an unusually good mood.

Tendo draped himself over Ryosuke’s shoulders like a boneless accessory, trailing after him wherever he went. Ryosuke, completely unbothered, just let him hang there.

Kawanishi covered his face. Ryosuke was far too innocent, and Tendo had absolutely no sense of boundaries.

Tendo suddenly felt a chill and sneezed, then tightened his grip around Ryosuke’s shoulders.

“Ryosuke, do you like me?”

“Huh? Of course I like you. I like Goshiki, I like Yunohama, I like Ushijima-senpai… and of course I like Sakusa too!”

Ryosuke counted them one by one on his fingers.

Tendo let out a long sigh. Ryosuke must’ve traded all his emotional awareness for volleyball talent. He really didn’t get it.

He rested his chin lightly on Ryosuke’s shoulder, still hanging on lazily.

Ryosuke blinked.

Tendo-senpai was seriously too clingy.

“Goshiki! I heard from Oikawa-senpai yesterday about Date Tech High—”

The moment Ryosuke spotted Goshiki, he bolted over like an excited puppy.

Tendo stared at his suddenly empty arms and ground his teeth. If looks could kill, Goshiki would’ve been riddled with holes.

Kawanishi walked over and patted his shoulder. “Tone it down. If you scare him, Coach Washijō won’t let you off.”

Tendo let out a heavy huff, then instantly switched back to his usual playful grin and skipped after Ryosuke.

Kawanishi watched like a front-row spectator, whistling happily as he walked away.

That afternoon, everyone gathered in the gym waiting for Date Tech High to arrive.

Ryosuke hadn’t slept well because of that post. Now he was hiding behind Ushijima, half-asleep.

Ushijima felt Ryosuke’s head repeatedly bumping into his back. He sighed and shifted slightly so Ryosuke could lean more comfortably.

Ryosuke nestled against Ushijima’s back, still thinking about Sakusa.

Eventually, he drifted off to sleep.

....

Chapter 88: Angry Birds

Ryosuke was half-asleep when he felt someone shaking him. Something brushed against his cheek, and he groggily opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was Tsutomu Goshiki’s face magnified right in front of him. Startled, Ryosuke jolted and smacked him across the face.

Tsutomu Goshiki clutched his cheek, looking wronged. “Why’d you hit me?”

Ryosuke gave an awkward laugh. “You were way too close. Did the Date Tech team arrive?” He swiftly changed the subject.

“Oh! They’re here. There’s this super tall middle blocker on their side. He looks really fierce. Like, this tall… this tall…”

Simple-minded Tsutomu Goshiki immediately forgot about being hit.

Ryosuke glanced around and realized he was sitting on a bench in the rest area. Yunohama was standing nearby playing on his phone. The upperclassmen had already started setting up for the match, and Yamagata and Kawanishi, unable to sit still, had run off to chat with the Date Tech players.

Ryosuke curiously observed Date Tech’s arrival. Each of them was built like a copy of Senior Ushijima. He couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. No wonder they were called the “Strongest Iron Wall.”

In his hazy state, Ryosuke spotted someone with upright golden hair and a patch of black in the middle. He rubbed his eyes.

Did he get up too fast? Why was he seeing an Angry Bird?

He reached out and clamped a hand over Tsutomu Goshiki’s still-chattering mouth, turning his head toward Date Tech.

“Who’s that Angry Bird?” he whispered.

Tsutomu Goshiki looked around blankly before suddenly realizing. “Oh! That’s first-year Koganegawa Kanji. He’s a setter.”

Ryosuke stared at the new setter with a complicated expression.

There went his ridiculous theory about setters all looking elegant.

Ushijima finished arranging the court and walked over. “Rested?”

Ryosuke looked up and nodded. “Am I going in?”

Ushijima handed him his water bottle. “Yeah. Opposites and middle blockers: me and Reon. Setter: Shirabu. You and Tendo rotate in the middle. Yamagata at libero. I don’t know who they’re sending out yet.”

Ryosuke took the bottle and gulped down a mouthful before setting it aside. “Alright. Let’s warm up.”

After they left, Tsutomu Goshiki flopped down beside Yunohama. “Ahhh! I want to play today too.”

Yunohama adjusted his glasses. “I haven’t even stepped on the court yet.”

Tsutomu Goshiki whipped his head around with a whoosh, pressing his face close to Yunohama’s. “You’re not upset, are you?”

Yunohama pressed his lips together and said nothing.

He felt like a complete failure. It was one thing to fall short of the seniors, but even compared to Tsutomu Goshiki and Ryosuke—his own year—he couldn’t measure up. It was humiliating.

“Pfft—hahaha!”

Laughter rang out from nearby. The two looked up to see Kawanishi squatting off to the side, having clearly been eavesdropping.

Kawanishi sighed and patted Yunohama’s shoulder. “We didn’t realize how you were feeling. We don’t trouble you much because you’re steady. You don’t need us worrying over you all the time.

“As for not letting you play, it’s so you can watch the seniors’ matches more. Honestly, everyone says you’re here to take over Shirabu’s position. You’re the only one who doesn’t know.”

Yunohama’s eyes widened. A crack appeared in his usually cool expression as he shot to his feet.

“You… you’re not lying?”

His voice trembled.

The wait had been agonizing.

He’d barely gotten any chances in official matches, while the other two who joined with him were already improving. He’d even started to think he’d spend three years warming the bench.

That’s… that’s really great…

He lowered his head, hiding the redness in his eyes.

Kawanishi burst out laughing and slapped his shoulder. “That’s more like it. Don’t lose heart. Shiratorizawa doesn’t bury its students. Compared to Tsutomu Goshiki and Ryosuke, your responsibility is heavier. Semi’s always unreliable. Once he graduates, it’ll just be you and Shirabu.”

Yunohama nodded, a spark of hope reigniting inside him.

Tsutomu Goshiki had already slipped away when the two started talking. Looking around at everyone busy with warm-ups and preparations, he realized that in this massive gym, there wasn’t a single person left to chat with.

He wandered aimlessly—and inexplicably locked eyes with Koganegawa, who was also looking for someone to talk to.

The two stared at each other, wide-eyed, neither willing to give in.

When Reon walked over, this was the bizarre scene he saw. He shot Koganegawa a complicated look. It was rare to find someone who could keep up with Tsutomu Goshiki’s train of thought. Seeing this, it seemed Koganegawa’s wasn’t exactly normal either.

Futakuchi from Date Tech walked over, glanced at Koganegawa—who was glaring with all his might—and asked, “Why are you staring at him?”

Koganegawa huffed, “I don’t know. It just feels like whoever blinks first loses.”

Futakuchi: “…………”

While the two were locked in their “deep gaze,” Date Tech’s coach Takurō Oiwakefinalized the lineup.

“Same as usual. First-years are sitting out today. Second and third years on. Futakuchi, Aone, Moniwa, Takehito, plus Kamasaki and Sakunami. The rest of you stay ready to sub in.”

The names called were the core of their Iron Wall block. From this lineup alone, it was clear that, just like Aobajosai, they were treating Shiratorizawa with one hundred and twenty percent vigilance.

After warm-ups, the players took the court. It was Ryosuke’s first time facing Date Tech, and he craned his neck, openly sizing them up.

While spacing out, Aone noticed the Shiratorizawa players looking their way. He lifted his eyes—and locked onto Ryosuke, who was peeking around sneakily.

Aone clenched his fingers. His face remained expressionless, but inside, one thought kept repeating:

He looks way smaller up close than I expected.

Ryosuke took in Date Tech’s lineup—each of them looking fierce and intimidating—and immediately froze, shrinking behind Ushijima.

Catching Ushijima’s questioning look, he stammered, “Are… are they all delinquents?”

Ushijima held back a laugh at Ryosuke’s pitiful expression. “No.”

He glanced at Date Tech’s players and hesitated before adding, “They just… look older than they are.”

Ryosuke muttered, “But that yellow-haired number nine looks like he’s got multiple lives on his conscience…”

Ushijima: “……”

The two teams bowed at the net. Ryosuke kept glancing at Kamasaki, who noticed the look and rubbed his face in confusion.

Was there something on his face?

The whistle blew.

“Beeeeep—”

The current rotation: Ryosuke at Position 1, Shirabu and Ushijima at Positions 2 and 3. Before the match, the coach had instructed that Ryosuke and Tendo should avoid overlapping rotations as much as possible, so their strengths could be used in different rotations.

With this arrangement, no matter how the rotation shifted, there would always be at least one instinctive blocking talent in the front row—Shiratorizawa’s first line of defense.

The match began. Date Tech to serve.

Kamasaki—whom Ryosuke had just labeled a delinquent—stood at the service line. He waited until the eighth-second whistle before striking the ball.

Yamagata swore under his breath as he rushed to receive.

What was with everyone serving right at the whistle these days? Did they have to make life this hard for the libero?

He dropped low to cushion the force, but the receive wasn’t clean. The ball popped too high.

“Sorry! I’ll cover it!” Yamagata shouted as he chased it down.

“I’ve got it.”

Reon calmly stepped in, adjusting the ball’s trajectory and sending a clean pass toward Shirabu.

Shirabu nodded and, in one smooth motion, set the ball to Ryosuke.

Ryosuke blinked.

Huh? I’m spiking?

Well… whatever.

He fixed his gaze on Date Tech’s side, trying to gauge how many blockers were coming. Everyone across the net was sprinting forward.

Ryosuke took a few quick steps back, curved into his approach, and launched upward, pushing off with both feet. Midair, he tracked the forming block.

A tall white-haired player with side-swept bangs, another with slanted fringe, and that yellow-haired number nine.

His eyes darted.

No one else? Just the three of them?

Then I’ll break through—

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Senior Ushijima, who had somehow shifted to Position 4.

Their eyes met.

The trust they had built off the court wasn’t fake.

Ryosuke understood instantly. He gave a subtle nod, movements sharp and decisive.

In the blink of an eye, three blockers sealed in front of him.

Midair, he flicked his wrist.

The ball flew toward Ushijima—a fake spike turned real set.

Ushijima gave a slight nod and smashed the ball down with his left hand.

First point secured.

...

Chapter 89: Day Off

Tsutomu Goshiki threw an arm around Ryosuke’s neck and howled, “Did you see that?! Did you see that?! That super-awesome, lightning-blasting, explosive shot was mine!”

Ryosuke’s head spun from the shaking. “I—I saw it! Tsutomu Goshiki, let go! If you don’t, I’m going to throw up!”

Startled, Tsutomu Goshiki quickly released him.

Ryosuke shot him a resentful look. Tsutomu Goshiki laughed awkwardly, scratched his head, and bolted.

Although Date Tech had lost, they accepted the defeat wholeheartedly.

Kamasaki stepped over the net and slung an arm around Reon’s shoulders. “Not bad. This year’s freshmen are seriously impressive.”

Reon smiled modestly. “Not really.” In truth, he was thrilled—this brought honor to Shiratorizawa.

Aone stood at the net, watching Ryosuke intently until Ryosuke felt the stare and turned his head stiffly.

Their eyes met for a few seconds. Once Aone confirmed he had his attention, he raised his phone in front of him with a serious expression.

“LINE.”

Clear and straightforward.

“Add you on LINE?” Ryosuke asked.

Aone nodded. While Ryosuke lowered his head to enter the contact, Aone gave him a brief, firm pat on the head—an awkward but well-meant gesture of approval.

When Ryosuke looked up, Aone’s usually stoic face showed a faint look of satisfaction, like someone relieved that he had successfully made a new teammate connection.

Ryosuke: “?”

Aone turned and walked back calmly, expression returning to normal.

Takehito watched the scene with watery eyes. “Aone finally made a friend besides Futakuchi. Things are looking up.”

“Hey! Takehito-senpai, I heard that! What do you mean ‘looking up’?!” Futakuchi snapped, face twisting.

Coach  Takurō Oiwake stood beside Coach Washijō, smiling warmly. “The younger generation is formidable. These kids don’t really have rivals left in Miyagi High anymore.”

Coach Washijō pretended not to care, though the pride in his voice was obvious. “It can’t be helped. They’re improving too quickly. Next time, let the university students scrimmage them.”

Coach  Takurō Oiwake smiled helplessly. Why couldn’t Miyagi have one more qualifying slot? For years, Shiratorizawa had taken them all. It left no room for anyone else. Who knew if a dark horse might appear someday?

Only after Date Tech left did everyone start stretching their sore muscles and cleaning up the gym.

They chatted while they worked.

Yamagata grinned at Kawanishi. “Two more weeks until the prefectural qualifiers. Feels like the qualifying spot is ours again this year.”

Ryosuke’s ears twitched. “That soon? After the prefectural qualifiers, it’s the IH, right?”

Tendo ruffled Ryosuke’s hair. “Of course. So if there’s anything you need to do, do it now. Once the qualifiers start, there won’t be time.”

Tsutomu Goshiki bounced over. “Ryosuke! Yunohama! Let’s go to a haunted house!”

Yunohama and Ryosuke shuddered at the same time and answered in unison.

“No. You go.”

They had both suffered through Tsutomu Goshiki’s ear-piercing screams before. One visit had been more than enough.

Seeing him deflate, Ryosuke scratched his cheek, pulled him closer, and whispered something rapidly.

By the time he finished, Tsutomu Goshiki’s eyes were shining.

“Ryosuke! You’re my best bro!”

Yunohama leaned in curiously. “What did you say?”

Ryosuke grinned. “Don’t worry. Tsutomu Goshiki won’t be bothering us.”

He refused to explain further.

Yunohama clicked his tongue and turned away.

“So what are you doing on your day off, Ryosuke~?” Tendo latched onto him, peppering him with questions until Ryosuke’s head buzzed.

Ryosuke peeled him off. “Hey! Tendo-senpai, you’re too hot! Stop sticking to me! I told you already—I’m going to visit a friend’s school. I’ve said it three times. Get down!”

His face was flushed from the heat, sweat sliding down along his hairline as he stomped in frustration.

Seeing this, Ushijima grabbed Tendo under the arms and lifted him straight up. “Tendo. Don’t.”

Dangling in midair, Tendo froze. “Wakatoshi! Put me down! This is humiliating!”

Ryosuke had already slipped away.

...

By the time the gym was mostly cleaned, everyone gradually headed back to the dorms.

Ryosuke, however, walked home at an easy pace, head down as he texted Hinata.

Hinata had invited him to visit their school tomorrow. Ryosuke agreed without hesitation. Ever since they added each other on LINE, Hinata’s social skills had skyrocketed. He was practically unstoppable.

He could probably befriend a stray dog on the side of the road.

Even through the phone, Ryosuke could feel his enthusiasm. Within days, the two of them had become close friends.

【Yaku: Ryosuke! Do you still remember Morisuke Yaku from the Nekoma lakeside?! (shouting) (hoarse) (furious)】

Ryosuke had planned his day off perfectly—one day to visit Hinata and tour their school.

And another day to go to Tokyo and see Sakusa compete.

He hummed as he jogged home, suddenly frowning.

Strange. Where did his bike go this time? Why could he never find it?

...

The next morning, Ryosuke woke up early and washed up slowly.

Hinata had said he would come pick him up at Shiratorizawa. Ryosuke had told him not to bother, but Hinata insisted.

Ryosuke switched phones and calculated the timing. If Hinata got lost on the way to Shiratorizawa—as he very likely would—leaving at this time would be perfect.

He nodded to himself.

The weather was getting hotter. Before heading out, he pulled a short-sleeved Shiratorizawa uniform from his closet.

He quickly shed his fluffy pajamas. His body was already starting to change—what had once been a soft belly was now layered with muscle, lean lines hiding youthful strength.

After pulling on his pants, he noticed they were a little short.

He rummaged through the closet and dug out clothes he had bought a size too big before.

While getting dressed, he shouted downstairs, “Grandma! I don’t have summer clothes anymore!”

Mrs. Washijō rolled her eyes elegantly. When she saw him come down, she said, “Aren’t you going to Tokyo the day after tomorrow? Have Komori accompany you to buy some. Stop yelling for me all the time.”

She walked off, clearly unimpressed.

Ryosuke froze on the stool, then hurried after her, circling behind her like a clingy cat.

“So you’re tired of me already?! That’s not what you said when I first came back!”

His big cat-like eyes turned watery.

Mrs. Washijō laughed and flicked his forehead. “Enough acting. If Washijō sees you like this, he’ll scold you again.”

Ryosuke switched expressions instantly. “Fine, fine. I’m heading out.”

“Wait! You haven’t eaten breakfast yet! You brat!”

Mrs. Washijō watched him slip away like a slick eel, tray in hand, scolding as she went.

Ryosuke bounced out the door.

Good thing I ran fast. Don’t think I didn’t see the natto on that tray. Hmph. I’m not eating that.

He ran toward Shiratorizawa’s gates, the sun blazing overhead.

Reaching the shade of a lush tree, Ryosuke squatted down with an ice pop in hand, licking it while checking the time.

He was almost certain Hinata had gotten lost again.

...

Chapter 90: Karasuno

Sure enough, after waiting nearly ten more minutes, Hinata finally came into view, looking around as he walked.

Ryosuke crunched through the last bite of his popsicle, stood up, and waved.
“Shōyō, over here!”

Hinata’s eyes lit up as he ran over. “Oh! I spent forever trying to find the way!”

Ryosuke smiled helplessly. Why was Shōyō so determined to come pick him up himself? Was this some kind of pride unique to people who were terrible with directions?

It was still a little chilly out, but Hinata didn’t seem to care at all. He had come out in short sleeves and shorts, pale arms and legs exposed, brimming with energy.

Hinata chattered nonstop as they walked, and Ryosuke listened seriously, not brushing him off, as Hinata recounted all the little details of daily life.

“Kageyama is so dumb! He only got 21 on the quiz, and because of that he can’t go to training camp. Daichi-senpai was super scary too. He said if we don’t meet the academic standard, we’re done for.

“Oh! And Sugawara-senpai told me to thank you properly. Thanks for taking me home last time. Do you want to come over for dinner tonight? I told my mom I invited a friend!”

Ryosuke felt his head starting to spin. Hinata took another deep breath and kept going.

“Kageyama, that boke, was too embarrassed to ask, so he made me ask how you guys train at Shiratorizawa. If possible, he wants to play a match with you. And our libero, Nishinoya-senpai, heard you’re amazing at receives and wants to compete too!”

Ryosuke struggled to keep up. Hinata spoke so fast it was like all punctuation had vanished.

Kid… when you get excited, do you just delete every comma in existence?

Forcing a smile, Ryosuke answered slowly, one sentence at a time.
“Sure. Thanks for inviting me to your house. And you don’t need to thank me—I’m here to hang out with you today. I’m free all day, so of course we can play volleyball.”

Hinata laughed and smoothed his hair down, then caught Ryosuke by the sleeve and started running. “Come on! We’re almost there!”

Looking at Hinata’s bright, fluffy orange hair, Ryosuke reached out and gave it a quick, playful tousle.

Hinata just laughed and fixed his hair, then grabbed Ryosuke by the wrist and broke into a run. “Come on! We’re almost there!”

They turned a corner and soon arrived at the gates of Karasuno High.

Ryosuke followed Hinata around as he introduced the campus—the library, the classroom buildings, the club rooms. The school wasn’t large, but it had a warm, welcoming atmosphere.

Hinata explained that Karasuno used to be called the “Ferocious Crows,” once standing shoulder to shoulder with Shiratorizawa in Miyagi. In recent years, though, they had gradually declined…

The mood dipped for a moment, but as soon as Hinata mentioned the gym, Ryosuke perked up again.

The final stop was, of course, the gymnasium.

As they approached, the thudding sound of serves echoed from inside.

Hinata pushed the door open and shouted at full volume, “Daichi-senpai! Sugawara-senpai! Nishinoya-senpai! Kageyama! I brought Ryosuke!”

It was like a built-in megaphone.

Ryosuke covered his face and tried to hide behind Hinata’s not-very-tall frame.

Social death. Absolute social death. He had never experienced something this mortifying in his life.

“Oh, you’re here,” Daichi said, clearly pleased.

“Hey there!” Sugawara greeted warmly.

“Whoa! You’re the legendary Ryosuke?” Nishinoya’s eyes gleamed with competitive excitement.

“Uh… hi.” Kageyama forced a stiff expression that somehow made him look even more intimidating.

(Kageyama: I don’t know why everyone’s smiling, but I’ll just smile too.)

Ryosuke nodded politely at each of them. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a tall guy with a small mustache watching them with a tense expression.

He edged closer to Hinata and whispered, “Shōyō… is that guy some kind of delinquent? He looks scary.”

“What?! Asahi-senpai isn’t a delinquent! And don’t be scared—he’s just a little timid!”

One sentence. Two people socially destroyed.

Ryosuke: (weakly) I see… once you’ve experienced social death once, it just keeps happening.

“Hey! Shōyō, how could you say that out loud…” Asahi protested, voice shrinking halfway through.

But facing Hinata’s completely innocent expression, he couldn’t bring himself to stay upset.

He shuffled over to Nishinoya, looking deflated. “Nishinoya… am I really that scary?”

Nishinoya patted him on the back.
“It’s fine.”

Asahi: moved.

“I thought you were used to it by now. You do look kind of intense,” Nishinoya added helplessly.

Asahi: moved (shattered).

Watching them, Ryosuke couldn’t help but feel that even though every member of Karasuno seemed a little odd—and some constantly clashed—they were clearly close.

Kageyama suddenly stepped in front of Ryosuke and pointed a volleyball at him. “Hey. Let’s compete.”

“Hey! Kageyama, that’s rude!” Sugawara smacked the back of his head. “At least wait until he’s more familiar with us!”

Kageyama rubbed his head, confused. “Huh? But Hinata already brought him here. Isn’t that familiar enough?”

Sugawara: “…………”

Ah. Kageyama was unexpectedly sharp in certain areas.

Daichi stepped in. “Alright, I’ll take Ryosuke to meet everyone first. We’ll talk later.”

Ignoring the dissatisfied looks from Kageyama and Hinata, Daichi led him over.

Pointing to a tall boy with glasses, he said, “This is Kei Tsukishima, first-year middle blocker.”

Ryosuke blinked. He’s tall. About the same height as me.

Tsukishima gave him a quick once-over. So this is the guy who brought Hinata back that day. Hmph.

He nodded curtly and walked away.

Ryosuke glanced at Daichi. “Um… he doesn’t seem very happy?”

Daichi forced a smile. “You know how boys are. Sometimes they’re just like that.”

Ryosuke: “?”

“This is our manager, Kiyoko Shimizu. And that’s our pinch server, Tadashi Yamaguchi.”

Ryosuke nodded, then returned to Hinata.

Picking up a volleyball, he said, “Shōyō, let’s play 3v3.”

Hinata froze for a second before realizing Ryosuke hadn’t been brushing him off earlier.

This was… this was incredible!

He nodded fiercely. “Okay!”

Then he turned—

Ryosuke instinctively tried to cover his mouth, but he was a second too late.

“Ryosuke wants to play 3v3! Who’s in?!”

Everyone training, chatting, or spacing out turned to look at Ryosuke at once.

The intensity of their gaze made his scalp tingle.

He laughed awkwardly and nodded.

That look was terrifying.

It felt like he had just unknowingly volunteered himself as the main event.

....

Chapter 91: 3V3

At Ryosuke’s suggestion, everyone instantly grew excited.

Ryosuke looked at them in confusion. It was just a 3v3—was it really that big of a deal?

As if reading his thoughts, Sugawara smiled gently and said, “It’s rare for our school to get practice matches with other schools.

“These past few years, Karasuno hasn’t been what it used to be. People call us a fallen powerhouse—the ‘Wingless Crows.’ We’re not really in a position to request practice matches anymore.”

Sugawara delivered the harsh truth in the softest voice.

Ryosuke froze, flustered. Had he accidentally touched a sore spot? Ahhh, I’m terrible…

“But no matter what, we’re really grateful you’re willing to play 3v3 with them. In their eyes, getting to play volleyball with the powerhouse Shiratorizawa is a rare opportunity.”

Ryosuke looked at their excited faces—and at Hinata, as enthusiastic as ever.

Their passion for volleyball was no less than his own. They truly loved the sport, quietly pushing forward when no one was watching. It reminded him of himself in the past, when he would do anything just to keep playing.

Sugawara noticed the determination sharpening in the boy’s eyes and smiled to himself. He had heard Shiratorizawa players were proud and temperamental.

He hadn’t expected someone this straightforward.

Ryosuke hugged the volleyball and ran over. “Shōyō, let’s play.”

It sounded like a simple invitation—but somehow also like a promise.

Hinata broke into a radiant grin and nodded.

For this match, Kageyama, Hinata, and Nishinoya were on one side. On the other were Ryosuke, Sugawara, and Asahi.

The upperclassmen gave the spotlight to Kageyama and Hinata. The others stood back to watch.

Sugawara walked over with a bright smile. “Looks like we’re teammates. What a coincidence.”

Ryosuke didn’t know how to respond, so he just gave a shy smile. “Nice to play with you, Senpai.”

“No need to be nervous,” Sugawara said, patting his arm reassuringly.

Ryosuke couldn’t help comparing. Why didn’t Shiratorizawa have seniors this gentle? And why didn’t they have a female manager either? He felt inexplicably wronged.

Nearby, Asahi was tying back his long hair. Despite his imposing build, he spoke hesitantly. “Sugawara… if I mess up, you’re not going to hit me, right?”

Sugawara smiled sweetly. “Of course not.”

Something about that tone made Asahi’s instincts flare. He wisely stopped talking.

They took their positions at the net. Ryosuke naturally stepped into a receive-focused role. With a setter and an ace on his side, his job was to cover the floor.

Hinata had mentioned before that he and his grumpy setter had a special move called the “Freak-Quick.” Ryosuke had come today specifically to see what that really meant.

The match began. Everyone stopped their drills to watch this small 3v3.

The coin toss gave the serve to Kageyama.

Kageyama held the ball, nodded to himself, and stepped to the service line.

Sugawara leaned toward Ryosuke and said softly, “Don’t underestimate him. Hinata calls it his ‘Killer Serve.’”

Ryosuke blinked. Killer Serve? What kind of serve earned a name like that? Now he was curious.

Kageyama inhaled deeply. He wanted to see how far he still was from a powerhouse like Shiratorizawa.

A few quick steps. A sharp leap.

The serve flew.

Ryosuke’s eyes widened. That form… it looked familiar.

The ball came in with force. Ryosuke reacted on instinct—adjusted his footwork, extended his arms, absorbed the impact, and sent a clean pass forward.

Smooth and controlled.

Kageyama’s face darkened—not in anger, but frustration. A serve he had worked so hard to perfect had been handled so easily.

If that wasn’t enough, then he’d hit one that couldn’t be handled. He clenched his fist silently.

“Whoa! Ryosuke’s amazing!” Hinata shouted from across the net, eyes practically sparkling.

Blindingly bright.

Nishinoya bounced in place, pointing at the perfect pass. “What was that?! That was awesome! Teach me!”

Sugawara set the ball, wearing a gentle but unmistakably threatening smile. “You three should probably focus on the game.”

While Hinata and Kageyama were still reacting, Asahi seized the distraction and smashed the ball down for a point.

Outside the court, Daichi’s face darkened. Getting distracted mid-match? More training was clearly in order.

Kageyama, Hinata, and Nishinoya all felt a chill run down their spines, unaware of what awaited them.

Ryosuke suddenly realized why that serve had felt familiar. It reminded him of Oikawa’s style. He’d been receiving Oikawa’s serves nonstop lately—no wonder it felt recognizable. Had Kageyama modeled his serve after Oikawa?

He shook the thought away. Focus on the match.

Asahi went up for another heavy spike. Kageyama managed a touch on the block.

“One touch!”

“Got it!”

Nishinoya dug the ball and sent it back to Kageyama.

“Hinata!”

“Coming!”

Hinata stepped back, took a wide approach—

An orange blur shot forward.

For a split second, it looked as if wings had spread from his back as he soared.

From the back row, Ryosuke felt a strange pressure, like prey locked in a predator’s sights.

“So high… he’s flying…” he murmured.

Before he could process it, the ball had already whipped past and slammed into the floor. The impact echoed through the gym, leaving his ears ringing.

He stood frozen.

If he had been watching from the sidelines, he would have calmly analyzed it: perfect synchronization between setter and middle blocker.

But experiencing the Freak-Quick firsthand?

All he felt was speed.

In the brief fraction of a second he had blinked, it was already over.

Was that even humanly possible?

Sugawara looked at him gently. “Did it surprise you? It’s okay—”

He stopped mid-sentence.

Ryosuke’s stunned expression had shifted. His eyes burned with excitement.

Ah. So this is interesting. This is challenging.

Sugawara clicked his tongue internally. Another volleyball addict.

Ryosuke looked at him and smiled. “Thank you, Senpai. Karasuno… is really interesting.”

Beside them, Asahi muttered like he was chanting, “Did you see that? Did you see that? Our underclassmen are amazing, right?”

Sugawara smacked him in the stomach. “You’re too loud.”

Ryosuke’s gaze remained locked on Hinata.

He had never seen—never received—a ball that fast before.

....

Chapter 92: Freak Quick

Ryosuke froze where he stood, the spot on his arm where he’d received the ball burning hot. His blood felt like it was boiling, and a wide flush spread across his face from sheer excitement.

He stared at Hinata and Kageyama across the court. “One more!” His eyes shone, full of anticipation.

“Ah, that’s exactly how Nishinoya reacted the first time he saw the Freak Quick,” Tsukishima commented, pushing up his glasses.

Daichi covered his face helplessly. “Why do Liberos always want to chase down dangerous balls? Is that just something in their blood?”

“That line is way too chuunibyou, Captain,” Tsukishima added dryly.

The match resumed.

Ryosuke rapidly ran calculations through his head, breaking down the mechanics of the Freak Quick. He made up his mind—today, he was definitely going to receive Hinata’s spike.

“Hinata!”

Kageyama jumped at the net, his eyes giving away absolutely nothing.

Ryosuke locked onto the ball.

That decision saved him a lot of trouble. If he’d tried to track Hinata instead, with Hinata’s speed, he would’ve easily lost sight of him.

The next second, Kageyama sent a back quick toward the right. Ryosuke predicted the landing point and quickly retreated.

Hinata popped up out of nowhere on the right side of the net.

Asahi and Sugawara rushed to block, but they were a split second too slow—Hinata had already spiked the ball across.

Facing the ball head-on, Ryosuke knew his positioning was correct. He had crouched early, ready to receive.

But there was still a miscalculation. The ball was simply too fast. It slammed into his arm, and before he could absorb the force, it ricocheted away.

Sugawara stroked his chin. “That’s impressive. First time seeing the Freak Quick and he can already keep up with it.”

Asahi held the volleyball and said, “Well, he did come from a powerhouse like Shiratorizawa.”

“Not bad. Where’s this kid from?” A laid-back voice suddenly sounded beside Daichi.

Daichi turned and bowed politely. “Good morning, Coach Ukai. He’s Hinata’s friend, from Shiratorizawa.”

Ukai scratched his head. “Look at me—he’s still wearing his school uniform.” He shook his head. “Still… he’s good. He can already touch Hinata’s spikes.”

“Oh! Then how are you supposed to receive a ball like that? What if we run into something like this in the future? Wouldn’t we be doomed?” Tanaka asked curiously.

“You won’t,” Ukai replied. “At least not in the next three years. That ball belongs exclusively to Kageyama and Hinata.”

“No one else can pull it off?” Tanaka still didn’t understand.

Ukai lifted his chin proudly. “Of course not. First of all, just getting a genius setter is already a blessing.

“And Hinata—no one trusts Kageyama more than he does. And Kageyama trusts Hinata just as much. Kageyama knows that no matter where he sets the ball, Hinata will be there to spike it.

“On top of that, only Hinata has the kind of inexplicable stamina to keep jumping like that for three full sets. Anyone else would fall apart.”

“So they really are freaks,” Tsukishima muttered under his breath.

Before long, the score was tied at 15–15.

Even though Kageyama and Hinata’s “Freak Quick” was incredibly strong, their overall technique still couldn’t match the seniors’. And the seniors’ teamwork wasn’t just for show.

Meanwhile, Ryosuke was starting to figure things out.

He noticed that Hinata always spiked with his eyes closed. In this pair, Kageyama was clearly the one in control—the entire sequence from set to spike moved at blistering speed.

If Ryosuke were playing middle blocker, he could simply match Hinata’s timing and shut him down with a block. But as a Libero, he had to approach it differently.

Another spike came flying from Hinata.

Ryosuke narrowed his eyes, searching for an opening midair.

You could say the attack was reckless. Its strength lay in the fact that neither the setter nor the spiker could precisely control where it would land.

In that case, the only option was to keep the entire court in view and stand somewhere that allowed movement in any direction.

The ball spun so fast he could barely see it.

No problem.

Ryosuke licked his dry lips, fixed his timing, and dove forward in a fish dive, popping the ball up before either side had time to react.

“Whoa—nice!” Tanaka exclaimed as Hinata’s spike was dug up.

Sugawara’s eyes widened. It had only been a short while, and he was already receiving it? Even Nishinoya might not manage that so quickly.

The ball flew high into the air. Not a perfect first touch, Sugawara noted—but that was fine. The setter would take care of the rest.

“Asahi!”

At Sugawara’s call, he sent a flat, fast set. Asahi was already on his approach, cheeks puffed as he hammered the ball down.

The two inexperienced blockers couldn’t stop him at all.

Hinata lowered his head in frustration, looking like a dejected puppy.

“It’s okay,” Sugawara called gently across the net. “You guys did great.”

Kageyama’s sour expression eased slightly. Hinata clenched his fists and nodded firmly. “Next one! I’ll score for sure!”

Grinning, Sugawara reached a hand under the net to ruffle Hinata’s orange hair.

Watching the scene, Daichi let out a heavy sigh. “Isn’t Sugawara basically an overindulgent mother? That aura of maternal love is blinding.”

Ryosuke returned to the Libero position, thoughtful.

That last rally—Asahi-senpai’s approach had sparked an idea.

Hinata’s approach for the “Freak Quick” was different from a normal quick attack.

Near the net, it wasn’t as obvious. Hinata still couldn’t perfectly control his jump and timing, so keeping up with him at the block was one solution.

But away from the net, it became much clearer—the timing and starting point of his approach. At the very least, you could visually estimate the maximum landing zone of the ball.

Ryosuke’s thoughts raced.

“It’s starting. Don’t zone out,” Sugawara said softly, patting his shoulder with a gentle smile.

That smile left Ryosuke momentarily dazed.

Sugawara-senpai… that tear mole is really beautiful.

“Huh? Really? Thank you!”

…Wait. Did I just say that out loud?!

Ryosuke waved his hands in panic, his face turning bright red like a startled cat. “I—I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Oh? Then what did you mean?” Sugawara teased, his voice warm and mild.

Ryosuke’s face looked ready to steam.

Seeing that, Sugawara stopped. “Alright, alright. Let’s focus on the game.”

Still flushed, Ryosuke hurried back into position.

Sugawara smiled to himself, looking oddly fond. Ah, what an adorable kid. Sensible, quiet, never troublesome.

Back on court, Ryosuke fixed his gaze on Hinata, his green, catlike eyes openly studying him.

When Hinata started his approach again before Kageyama had even set the ball, Ryosuke was certain.

It was the approach timing.

Sure enough, the next second Kageyama sent the ball to the right side of the net. Hinata, who had already begun his run-up, was there waiting.

Got you, little crow.

Ryosuke darted to the right backcourt, shifting his weight back into a stable half-crouch.

Prepared in advance, he received the blazing-fast ball and smoothly absorbed the impact.

No one saw when he had moved—just like no one could predict when Hinata and Kageyama would unleash their Freak Quick.

In that instant, Hinata felt as if he were being watched by a predator.

The sensation of his hairs standing on end… was exhilarating.

The beast lurking in the shadows quietly bared its claws, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

...

Chapter 93

After playing the entire morning, Ryosuke finally experienced Hinata’s almost unbelievable stamina firsthand.

He collapsed onto the floor, wiping sweat from his face, a small notebook lying by his hand.

Hinata sat beside him, lifted his water bottle, and chugged it down.

“Ahh—so refreshing~” His eyes squinted shut in satisfaction.

“Hey, Ryosuke,” Hinata said, scooting closer like an overly affectionate puppy and nudging against him.

“What is it?” Ryosuke asked.

“How did you manage to receive my spike? Can you give the Freak Quick some advice? You went shua and flew over, then peng and the ball was up! It was seriously so cool!”

Nishinoya immediately scooted over too, crouching down beside them.

“I wanna know too! That receive was insanely cool! Tell us, tell us!”

Ryosuke stared at the two of them, overwhelmed by the double blast of enthusiasm. Way too energetic… And somehow, Hinata’s way of talking just now felt strangely familiar.

He pressed a hand against each of their heads to stop them from crowding in.

“Alright, alright. Honestly, the Freak Quick is still a quick attack at its core. It’s just that under Kageyama’s ultra-precise sets, combined with Shoyo’s speed and absolute trust, it becomes something special. Their individual strengths are what make it work.”

Hearing his name, Kageyama pretended not to care—but quietly edged closer to listen.

“To receive that ball, you need anticipation and observation. Shoyo’s approach timing for the Freak Quick changes every time. If your technique matures a bit more—if you can open your eyes midair—your Freak Quick will already be on another level.”

“But you still didn’t say how you received it!” Nishinoya protested, eyes wide.

“I did,” Ryosuke said helplessly.

“Huh…?” Nishinoya blinked blankly, clearly struggling to process.

“He already explained,” Ukai’s voice came from the side. “Hinata’s approach timing varies. If Hinata starts his run early, then you find the landing point early and get into position first.”

“Waaah!” Nishinoya’s mouth slowly dropped open. “That’s way too cool!”

Ryosuke stood and gave Ukai a polite nod.

Ukai clapped him on the shoulder. “Kid, I’m Karasuno’s coach, Ukai. You’ve got serious talent. Shutting down Hinata’s spike like that? Not bad at all. Hinata, Kageyama—you two still need to keep polishing it.”

Hinata nodded, looking a little downcast. He had trained the Freak Quick for so long, only to have someone see through it in a single morning. Anyone would feel a bit discouraged.

Not far away, Daichi and Sugawara watched him with concern.

“Do you think Shoyo’s feeling discouraged?” Daichi murmured.

Sugawara hesitated. “Probably… not?”

After finishing his conversation with Ukai, Ryosuke sat back down next to Hinata.

He ruffled Hinata’s hair. “Shoyo, the Freak Quick is amazing. But you can’t rely on it forever. You have to keep improving.”

Hinata looked up pitifully. “But… I thought I was already doing my best.”

Ryosuke chuckled and shook his head. “Not even close. There’s still a lot you can improve.”

Hinata’s ahoge sprang upright again with a shua.

“Where?!”

Ryosuke picked up his notebook. “I analyzed your strengths earlier. Your biggest advantage is stamina. But when it comes to spiking, you need to improve your hang time.

“Hitting at a high contact point isn’t automatically perfect. Staying in the air longer gives you more options. Hang time is very trainable.

“And your takeoff technique—you should study different jumping methods. A lot of middle blockers in international competitions don’t jump in that piu-piu way of yours. They go dong—one explosive motion.

“And most importantly… you’re too skinny, Shoyo.”

Hinata stared blankly at his own arms. “Skinny?”

Ryosuke nodded.

Hinata immediately turned to look at Kageyama. Under that intense stare, Kageyama reluctantly nodded as well.

“You’re not even fully grown yet and your stamina is already this good. Once you mature physically, you’ll be terrifying. Your core explosiveness will increase a lot, which will help you develop different jump styles.”

“Coach, is what he’s saying reliable?” Daichi asked quietly.

“Very reliable,” Ukai replied. “He even factored in Hinata’s development phase and suggested training for a while to test results. Having someone guide you like this? That’s a good thing.”

Ukai’s smile turned sly. Free guidance? Fantastic.

Hinata’s eyes sparkled as he looked at Ryosuke, practically glowing with admiration.

Ryosuke felt a bit overwhelmed under that gaze and covered Hinata’s eyes with his hand.

He stuffed the small notebook into Hinata’s hands. “This is a training plan I made based on your usual practice volume and daily routine. Follow it when you have time. If there’s anything you don’t understand, ask me.”

Hinata immediately stopped clinging to him and held the notebook like a priceless treasure.

Then, in the next second, he launched himself forward and tackled Ryosuke in a hug.

Startled, Ryosuke instinctively reached out to catch him—

—and ended up knocked onto the gym floor.

To keep Hinata from falling, Ryosuke braced one hand against the floor and loosely wrapped the other around him.

“Ryosuke, you’re amazing!” Hinata nearly screamed into his ear.

“Hey! What are you doing?! That’s way too close!!”

Kageyama’s furious shout echoed from the other side of the gym. Hinata turned his head slightly and saw him marching over, face dark with anger.

Hinata scrambled off Ryosuke and immediately grabbed him, anxiously looking him over. “Are you okay? Did you hit anything?”

Ryosuke discreetly pressed a hand to his slightly twisted wrist. “I’m fine. Just be more careful next time. What if you’d gotten hurt?”

“Oh! Okay!” Hinata nodded obediently.

The next second, Kageyama grabbed him under the arms and hauled him up.

“Hinata, you boke! That was dangerous! And you jumped on Ryosuke like that—have some manners!”

Hinata looked utterly confused. “What are you yelling for? Ryosuke didn’t say I was rude! Why are you mad?!”

Kageyama’s face darkened further. He huffed, set Hinata back down, and stormed off.

Ryosuke poked Hinata in confusion. “Is Kageyama okay?”

Hinata snorted. “He’s fine.”

And just like that, the entire morning passed.

At noon, when Ryosuke was about to head home, Hinata grabbed him.

“Come to my house! My mom made something really good!”

His big, watery eyes blinked up at Ryosuke.

Ryosuke felt like he’d taken a direct hit from cuteness. He immediately agreed—while pretending to hesitate.

“Well…”

He watched Hinata’s eyes grow brighter and brighter.

“…Alright.”

“Yay!”

Hinata grabbed Ryosuke and ran off, looking absolutely thrilled.

Kageyama saw them and let out a displeased “Hmph.”

Tanaka happened to pass by and heard it. He immediately turned with a fierce (not really) expression.

“Huh?? Are you ‘hmph’-ing at me?!”

Kageyama glanced at the menacing shaved head, expression blank, and simply walked away.

Tanaka was left behind, fuming.

He grabbed Nishinoya and demanded, “Is that guy looking down on me?!”

Nishinoya calmly delivered the finishing blow. “Yes, Ryu.”

“……”

Ryosuke and Hinata walked out of the school gates.

Seeing Hinata’s bicycle, Ryosuke laughed—then suddenly remembered he had a bicycle too.

“I’ll ride. You show me the way, okay?” Ryosuke said.

Hinata nodded.

Ryosuke pedaled at an easy pace.

“My house is pretty far. Won’t you get tired?”

“Don’t worry—”

“Ryosuke, will you still stay this afternoon?”

“Yeah.”

“Waaah! That’s awesome!”

...

Chapter 94

Ryosuke rode his bicycle and sighed. “Shoyo, your house is seriously far.”

Hinata, sitting on the back seat, smiled sheepishly. “Are you tired? Want me to ride instead?”

Ryosuke let out a soft laugh. “Even if you’ve got great stamina, if you ride with me on the back, it kind of feels like I’m bullying a kid.”

“What?! Are you saying I’m short?!”

“Nope~”

The bicycle stopped in front of a secluded little house.

A fence surrounded the yard, covered in clusters of tiny wildflowers. It looked like a little paradise tucked away from the world.

Hinata pushed the bike and shouted, “Mom! I brought a good friend home!”

With a loud bang, the door flew open. Another orange whirlwind shot out like a cannonball and slammed straight into Hinata’s arms.

“Big brother, welcome home!”

Ryosuke blinked in surprise. “You have a little sister?”

“Of course!” Hinata proudly lifted her up and held her in front of Ryosuke. “Look! My cutest little sister! Her name is Natsu Hinata!”

She really was adorable—bright orange hair just like Hinata’s, tied into two little pigtails. Her big, sparkling eyes looked like glossy grapes, and her gaze carried the exact same warmth and enthusiasm as her brother’s.

Natsu chirped brightly, “Hello! My name is Natsu Hinata!”

Ryosuke gently patted her small head. “Hi. I’m Ryosuke Hanyu.”

Natsu jumped down from Shoyo’s arms and grabbed both of them, tugging them inside.

“Mom! Big brother brought his friend home!”

“Oh? That’s wonderful, Natsu!”

A middle-aged woman in an apron leaned out from the kitchen, spatula in hand. She had the same vibrant orange hair.

This whole family feels warm, Ryosuke thought.

“Oh my, so you’re Shoyo’s good friend? You look like such a nice boy.”

Ryosuke smiled softly. “Hello, Auntie. I’m Ryosuke Hanyu.”

“What a lovely name. Shoyo, take Ryosuke-kun to your room and play for a bit, alright? Lunch will be ready soon.”

“Okay, Mom!”

Hinata picked up Natsu and motioned for Ryosuke to follow.

The house wasn’t big, but it was neat and lively. Colorful hand-painted curtains hung by the windows, and the balcony overflowed with flowers. The walls were covered in family photos—even pictures of Hinata when he was little.

Ryosuke glanced back at Hinata holding Natsu.

Hinata really had grown up surrounded by love.

No wonder he carried sunshine wherever he went.

The two of them, along with Natsu, practiced bumping in the backyard for a while. Later, Ryosuke and Hinata sat on the doorstep, watching Natsu try to keep the ball up.

Hinata suddenly turned toward Ryosuke, his expression growing serious.

Ryosuke looked back at him, confused. What was that face for? Was he about to reveal some earth-shattering secret?

Instead, Hinata spoke with complete sincerity.

“Thank you so much, Ryosuke-kun. For the training plans you wrote just for me. I asked Coach Ukai—he said they’re all really professional.”

Ryosuke waved his hand. “It’s nothing. I’m just glad I could help.”

Hinata grinned, then continued more quietly, “I know exactly where my weakness is. I’m too short. Volleyball players need height to have a future. But I really love volleyball. I love competing!”

Bathed in sunlight, Hinata’s face glowed with a soft golden sheen.

Ryosuke reached out and ruffled his hair.

“It’s okay. You’ll succeed. Height and talent aren’t the limits of sport. The determination to keep going—that’s where this path really begins.”

Hinata nodded, half-understanding.

Ryosuke opened his mouth, wanting to say more.

“I know someone at Karasuno—”

Mrs. Hinata’s lively voice interrupted from inside.

“Shoyo! Natsu! Ryosuke-kun! Come eat!”

Hinata looked up. “Hm? What about Karasuno?”

The words slipped back down Ryosuke’s throat.

Forget it. I’ll say it after lunch.

He smiled gently. “Nothing. Let’s eat first.”

Hinata happily ran to the dining room.

Seeing the bowl of rice topped with raw egg on the table, his eyes lit up. He grabbed Ryosuke excitedly.

“Ryosuke! You have to try raw egg rice! It’s super, ultra, explosively delicious!!”

Ryosuke couldn’t help but laugh as he sat down.

“Alright. If Shoyo says it’s good, then it must be.”

Hinata nodded proudly while eating.

But once lunch was over, Ryosuke completely forgot what he had wanted to say.

Hinata dragged him off for a nap.

“There’s only one bed,” Hinata said as he spread out the futon. “You’ll have to sleep with me, Ryosuke-kun. We’re both boys, so it’s fine, right?”

Ryosuke nodded. It sounded perfectly reasonable, and yet… something felt oddly off.

Hinata rolled himself into a bundle near the edge of the bed. Ryosuke wrapped himself in another quilt and lay down.

The bedding carried the same sunny scent as the family. Ryosuke buried his face in the soft, fluffy quilt and rubbed against it. Before long, he drifted into a deep sleep.

In his dream, he vaguely felt someone choking him. His breathing grew tight, and he struggled desperately—

He jolted awake.

Blinking groggily, he realized that at some point they had rolled together. Hinata’s arm was locked tightly around his neck.

No wonder I almost suffocated.

Looking at the tangled quilts and Hinata sprawled over him, Ryosuke felt that strange sense of something being off again.

He gently held Hinata’s waist and shook him.

“Wake up, Shoyo.”

Hinata’s face had left a red imprint on Ryosuke’s shirt. He blinked sleepily at the close-up sight of Ryosuke—and maybe still half-dreaming—wrapped his arms around Ryosuke’s neck again and nuzzled him twice.

That weird feeling intensified.

Ryosuke immediately threw off the quilt and hauled him upright.

“Hurry up! If we’re late, Daichi-senpai will be mad!”

At the mention of “Daichi-senpai,” Hinata jolted fully awake and shot Ryosuke a resentful glare.

Ryosuke gave an awkward smile. “Alright, go wash up.”

Hinata shuffled off in his slippers.

After getting ready, the two of them rode their bikes back to Karasuno.

That afternoon, at Hinata’s suggestion, they played 3v3 for the entire time. Everyone else rotated in and out.

Only Ryosuke got completely drained.

He lay flat on the floor, barely alive, pounding the ground weakly.

Why are the Karasuno guys this energetic?!

Hinata laughed and pulled him up. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah.” Ryosuke ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair and nodded.

“Oh…” The disappointment in Hinata’s eyes was obvious.

Ryosuke flicked his forehead. “Why so gloomy? Karasuno and Shiratorizawa are just a few streets apart. Just come find me next time.”

“Oh! Right!” Hinata perked up instantly.

Ryosuke covered his face.

You really didn’t think of that? Single-celled organism, seriously.

Daichi, Sugawara, and Hinata walked him to the school gate.

Daichi clapped his shoulder. “Haha, Ryosuke-kun, everyone had a great time today. You’re always welcome at Karasuno.”

Ryosuke pursed his lips.

No. I didn’t have a great time at all. They all ganged up on me.

“Alright. See you.”

“Bye~”

“Ryosuke-kun, message me when you get home!”

“Hey, don’t cling to people like that!”

Amid the noisy chatter, the day came to an end.

On his way back, Ryosuke scratched his head again.

What did I forget this time…?

Back home, he took out the small desk calendar from his drawer and crossed off “Visit Karasuno.”

Only one red-circled reminder remained—for tomorrow.

The faint characters “Sakusa” could still be seen…

After a long day, Ryosuke collapsed onto his soft bed, narrowed his eyes comfortably, and fell asleep almost instantly.

The next morning, he woke up in an unusually good mood and started rummaging through his wardrobe.

Mrs. Washijo came upstairs, glanced at him, shook her head helplessly, and left.

Ryosuke pulled out a ridiculously flashy pink T-shirt, examined it from every angle, and nodded in satisfaction.

This is the one.

He trotted downstairs.

He hadn’t told Sakusa he was coming. He loved surprise visits—showing up when the other person least expected it.

After breakfast, he sat there with his phone, secretly plotting how to fish for information. If Sakusa wasn’t there, the surprise would be ruined.

Cat Hero: Poke poke.jpg. I’m off today~

Sakusa was just getting ready to leave for extra practice when his phone chimed.

Holding a bottle of disinfectant spray in one hand and his phone in the other, Sakusa glanced at the message. Seeing it was from Ryosuke, a smile flickered in his eyes.

Clean Freak: Then have a good rest. I’m going to school for extra practice.

A few seconds later, perhaps feeling the message was too cold, he sent another one.

Clean Freak: Cat head-pat.jpg.

Ryosuke didn’t understand why Sakusa voluntarily told him his plans, but he was thrilled anyway. His goal had been achieved.

He quietly pumped his fist.

Seeing the sticker Sakusa sent made his eyes curve with laughter. It was the one he had sent to Sakusa last time—he hadn’t expected Sakusa to save it.

A strange wave of happiness wrapped around him.

His grin stretched nearly to his ears, and he radiated pink, flowery energy from head to toe.

He tapped rapidly on his phone, so absorbed that he didn’t notice Tanji Washijo walking over.

Cat Hero: Happy cat.jpg.

Cat Hero: Got it! You too~

“Hmph!!”

A heavy snort made Ryosuke jump, nearly dropping his phone.

Mrs. Washijo came out of the kitchen just in time to see it and immediately smacked Tanji Washijo’s arm.

“It’s early in the morning! Why are you scaring the child?!”

Tanji Washijo glared, pointing his cane at Ryosuke.

“Off to Tokyo again to see that brat from the Sakusa family?! It’s almost the Interhigh—put your mind on training! Stop running around with that… Sakusa!”

Mrs. Washijo slapped him again. “What’s wrong with the child going out to play? Why do you nag all day? If you’ve got time, go wash the dishes!”

At the same time, she shot Ryosuke a meaningful look.

He instantly understood.

Grabbing his backpack from the sofa, he bolted.

“I’m leaving! Bye, Grandpa and Grandma! If I don’t come back tonight, I’ll message you!”

Tanji Washijo raised his cane furiously.

Ryosuke was already gone in a flash.

“You little brat! Just wait till you get back! If you’ve got guts, don’t come back tonight!”

“Oh, enough,” Mrs. Washijo said helplessly. “The child’s grown. You can’t control him forever.”

Ryosuke ran off with a smug grin, looking so pleased he practically seemed to have a wagging tail.

Back at home, Tanji Washijo continued fuming.

“I’m telling you! That brat from the Sakusa family might be good at volleyball, but he doesn’t look like a decent guy! Look at Ryosuke—completely smitten! Grinning at his phone all day like he’s head over heels! He’s going to give me a heart attack!”

Judging by his booming voice, he didn’t sound remotely like someone with heart problems.

Mrs. Washijo tugged his arm, both amused and exasperated. “Enough. The child’s grown. You can’t control him for life.”

Tanji Washijo hunched over and sighed, rubbing his aching back.

“I’m old… really old…”

For a moment, neither spoke.

Meanwhile, Matsukawa had received the young master’s message the night before and had already parked the van near the Washijo residence early in the morning.

Ryosuke spotted the white van immediately.

She could endure hardship—but she would never pass up comfort. Mostly because she was delicate. If she took a bus, she might even get motion sickness.

After all, a purebred, money-raised cat was bound to be high-maintenance.

The van was already cool with air-conditioning. Matsukawa respectfully opened the door.

Ryosuke collapsed into the leather seat, lounging without any proper posture.

“Let’s go. To Itachiyama. I’ll sleep for a bit.”

“Yes.”

The car moved smoothly.

Ryosuke leaned against the window and fell asleep again.

Teenage growth spurts hit hard. Ever since his physical training intensified, he had been shooting up in height. Coach Washijo’s grasp of his physical condition was frighteningly accurate.

During this period, Ryosuke slept poorly at night. His knees would start aching as soon as evening came. Sometimes it was bad enough that he tossed and turned.

Strangely, though, his knees behaved perfectly during the day.

Which meant he’d been dozing off in class a lot lately.

Even Coach Washijo was so worried he was losing hair in clumps.

When Ryosuke slowly woke up, more than an hour had passed. They had already reached central Tokyo.

He rested his chin on his hand. “Just drop me at Itachiyama’s gate. Come pick me up tonight and take me back to the main house.”

Matsukawa had been struggling with how to tell him that the eldest master wanted him to return home.

She hadn’t expected the young master to bring it up himself.

“Yes!”

When the gates of Itachiyama came into view, Matsukawa parked the car.

Ryosuke got out, backpack slung over his shoulder. Still looking down at his phone, he waved casually, signaling Matsukawa to leave first.

Cat Hero: Poke poke.jpg.

Cat Hero: What are you doing~

The reply came instantly.

Clean Freak: Just finished a 3v3.

Ryosuke smiled at the screen as he quietly made his way toward the gymnasium.

…

Author’s Note:

Just a quick scheduling note — on some days, there will only be one chapter posted. This is simply because certain chapters are much longer than usual.

Even when only one chapter is released, the total character count is the same as — or sometimes even higher than — what I would normally post when releasing two chapters. So in practice, there’s no actual difference in content volume.

Thank you for your understanding!

....

Chapter 95

Ryosuke stood at the entrance of the gym, staring at the tightly shut doors. From inside came the steady thud of balls being struck. The sound tugged a smile onto his lips.

He lifted his phone, snapped a picture of the doors, and sent it to Sakusa.

Then he began counting silently in his head.

One…

Two…

Three…

“Bang!”

The doors flew open.

Ryosuke looked up to see Sakusa standing there in a mask, eyes wide with shock. He grinned.

“Didn’t expect that, huh?”

Sakusa’s left eyelid had been twitching all day. Since morning, he’d felt like something was about to happen, leaving him distracted the entire time.

Just now, after finishing a practice match and taking a break, Komori had said,

“Sakusa, your phone.”

Sakusa had assumed it was a message from Ryosuke. He picked it up and saw a photo.

Looking closer—

Wasn’t that the gym entrance?!

The previously expressionless Sakusa shot to his feet in an instant, startling Komori.

Without a word, he strode out. His heart pounded all the way to the doors. And when he opened them and saw the smiling figure waving at him, something inside his chest burned for a split second—warm and tingling.

He pressed his lips together, his voice carrying a trace of barely concealed delight.

“What are you doing here?”

Ryosuke spread his hands. “I came to see you.”

He smiled, bright and carefree.

Sakusa forced down the corners of his lips that wanted to rise and took Ryosuke’s hand.

“Come on. I still have some training left. Sit for a bit.”

Komori stood there, dumbfounded, watching his perpetually deadpan cousin run outside and bring the Shiratorizawa little vice captain back in.

Iizuna walked out of the locker room, saw Sakusa actually smiling, rubbed his eyes, and turned back inside.

“Must’ve opened the door wrong…”

He tried again.

“?!”

What on earth… Was that smiling person Sakusa??

Iizuna nearly jabbed his own eyes out in disbelief.

Komori finally gathered himself and stepped forward.

“Yo, long time no see, Ryosuke.”

On the inside, however, he was already screaming.

Ahhh! The pretty boy is here!

It wasn’t that he had impure thoughts—it’s just that, to Komori, Ryosuke was absolutely his white moonlight.

Ryosuke nodded politely with a small smile. “Komori-senpai, long time no see.”

But his gaze never left Sakusa.

Completely ignored, Komori looked deeply aggrieved.

Coach Irihata, who had witnessed everything, felt a faint ache in his molars. He’d noticed it during the last training camp too—Sakusa treated this Shiratorizawa player differently.

Sakusa, who usually rejected physical contact, was actually taking the initiative.

Unbelievable.

Clearing his throat, Coach Irihata barked, “Alright! Stop standing around and get back to training!”

Only then did the other players snap out of it.

Nishio Satoru passed by carrying a volleyball, glancing at the two still sticking close together.

“Even though we saw this version of Sakusa at camp, it’s still kind of terrifying.”

Kishimoto kicked him lightly and whispered, “Move! Can’t you see Sakusa glaring at you?!”

Nishio shuddered and sneaked a glance back—

Only to meet Sakusa’s murderous stare.

He hugged the volleyball tighter and slipped away.

Sakusa finally withdrew his gaze and gently ruffled the little tuft of hair sticking up from Ryosuke’s head.

“Sit here and wait for me. Morning training will be over soon. There are snacks and drinks. If you’re bored, use my phone to play games—I downloaded the ones you used to like. You know the password…”

He went on and on.

Ryosuke couldn’t help thinking—why did he always feel like a child when Sakusa lectured him?

Holding the snacks Sakusa had somehow procured, he obediently sat on the bench and nodded. The little tuft of hair bounced with the motion.

【Komori: staring at his now-empty locker in stunned silence (shock) (looking around) (silent rage)】

Under Ryosuke’s large emerald-green cat eyes, Sakusa’s heart trembled slightly. He couldn’t resist reaching out and brushing a fingertip along the corner of Ryosuke’s eye, warm skin smooth beneath his touch.

As if electrocuted, he pulled his hand back.

“Ahem. I’m heading back in.”

Ryosuke blinked and nodded, only aware that the spot Sakusa had touched felt oddly warm. His heart thudded in his chest for no clear reason.

Both of them, each lost in their own thoughts, were far from calm.

Soon, everyone at Itachiyama noticed—

The Shiratorizawa kid didn’t even have to do anything. Just sitting there seemed to give Sakusa some kind of strange buff.

Each spike came harder than the last.

Nishio stared at the ball hurtling toward him, eyes wide, forcing himself to step forward and receive it. The impact of a 106 km/h spike slammed into his arms.

He clutched his forearm and mourned silently.

Komori and the other first-year underclassmen were blasted all over the court by Sakusa’s fierce attacks, rolling on the floor and crying out dramatically.

Taichi watched his teammates being forced into receiving drills with pity, making a cross with both hands.

Amen. May God bless you.

When Sakusa finally stepped off the court, drenched in sweat, the tortured players nearly wept with relief.

Seeing everyone sprawled out groaning—including Komori collapsed flat on the floor—Sakusa curled his lips in a faintly wicked smile.

Did they think he couldn’t tell what Komori was plotting? Give him more to do, and he wouldn’t have time for all those thoughts.

He really was a good person.

His gaze drifted to Ryosuke, who was still crunching away at chips.

He smiled again.

He’d probably smiled more today than he did in an entire week.

Carrying disinfectant wipes, he walked over.

“Give me your hand.”

Ryosuke obediently placed his greasy, crumb-covered hand into Sakusa’s.

Sakusa patiently wiped each finger clean.

“I’m free this morning. I still have training this afternoon. What do you want to do today? I’ll go with you.”

Ryosuke thought for a moment.

“Come shopping for clothes with me this morning. In the afternoon… I’ll go back with you to training. I have to return to the main house tonight.”

“Okay,” Sakusa replied softly.

There was a gentleness in his eyes he didn’t even notice himself.

Ryosuke stared at him in a daze.

Sakusa lowered his gaze as he carefully wiped his hands, dark eyes beautiful and deep like scattered stars. One more look and Ryosuke felt like he might drown in that tenderness.

When Sakusa looked up, he found Ryosuke staring blankly at him. He reached out and lightly scratched the center of Ryosuke’s palm.

Without his mask, the faint smile on his face was dazzling enough to make Ryosuke’s head spin.

“Let’s go.”

There was a hint of triumph in Sakusa’s smile.

Ryosuke, the innocent little rabbit, had no idea what was going on in Sakusa’s mind. To put it bluntly, all of Ryosuke’s emotional intelligence had been poured entirely into volleyball.

Completely unaware, he happily let himself be led away.

Leaving behind a group of single men staring at each other in silence.

...

Sakusa took a quick shower in the locker room, pulled on a short-sleeved shirt, and looked at himself in the mirror.

For the first time, he felt that his slightly striking face might actually come in handy.

He sprayed lavender-scented disinfectant on himself and carefully checked his bag.

Disinfectant wipes. Wet wipes. Disinfectant spray. Hand sanitizer…

Only then did he nod in satisfaction and head out.

The moment Ryosuke saw him, he started chattering.

“Let’s go buy clothes first. Ginza? After that, we’ll eat. Where should we eat for lunch?”

Sakusa had been distracted by something but snapped back and squeezed Ryosuke’s hand.

“Let’s eat out. There’s a new sushi place near the bus stop. I think it’ll suit your taste.”

“Then it’s decided!”

They hailed a taxi and headed straight to Ginza without delay.

After getting out, Sakusa frowned at the bustling crowd.

Ryosuke immediately took out two masks and handed one to him. Only then did Sakusa’s expression ease.

Worried that this little fool might get lost, Sakusa helplessly took his hand.

Ryosuke felt the warmth in his palm but didn’t think much of it.

Most clothing stores in Ginza specialized in custom pieces, and even ready-to-wear items were limited editions.

Having grown up with every need taken care of, this was Ryosuke’s first time shopping for clothes on his own.

He dragged Sakusa around excitedly, darting from shop to shop.

Before they even bought clothes, his arms were already full of strange little trinkets.

Gummy eyeballs with gooey filling. A toy dog that could set off an alarm. A pig that blew bubbles. A magic wand glowing in rainbow colors…

Sakusa pinched the bridge of his nose.

When Ryosuke picked up yet another singing duck for the Nth time, Sakusa finally spoke.

“You already have three of those.”

Ryosuke puffed out his cheeks. “But this one’s pink. It’s so pretty.”

Under that pleading gaze of big, shining cat eyes, Sakusa couldn’t refuse.

He nodded helplessly.

But that was only the beginning.

Only after Ryosuke had bought nearly every toy he liked did they finally start looking at clothes.

Sakusa was dragged through more than a dozen stores, crossing several streets. The crease between his brows could have crushed a fly.

At that moment, he was incredibly grateful he was a volleyball player—otherwise he might not have managed it. He had to admit, Ryosuke’s shopping stamina was impressive.

“You’re pretty amazing too,” Sakusa suddenly said.

Ryosuke smiled shyly. “I know.”

Sakusa: That wasn’t a compliment…

Sighing in resignation, he sprayed himself with disinfectant again and picked up Ryosuke’s growing pile of treasures.

“This is the last store!”

They stepped into a ready-to-wear shop. Sakusa let out a breath of relief.

Finally.

Right at the entrance stood two hoodies displayed on mannequins.

Cat ears on the hoods. A large front pocket. Beautiful prints.

One black. One white.

Ryosuke fell in love at first sight.

“I’ll take both.”

Sakusa frowned. “Why two?”

Ryosuke placed his hands on his hips proudly.

“One’s for you!”

Sakusa froze.

He turned stiffly toward the adorable hoodies. No matter how he looked at them, they didn’t suit him.

Even with the mask covering his face, his expression clearly said: Absolutely not.

Ryosuke noticed immediately. His eyes lit up mischievously as he grabbed Sakusa’s arm and shook it.

“Come on, wear it with me~ It’ll look so good if we match, right? Sakusa, you’re the best~”

That sweet, drawn-out tone could melt steel.

Sakusa had never been able to resist this kind of clingy charm since childhood—though only when it came from Ryosuke.

Before he knew it, he’d agreed.

Ryosuke blinked happily.

See? Acting cute always worked.

By the time Sakusa realized what had happened, the clothes were already packed.

He was about to object—but met those watchful eyes again.

In the end, he said nothing.

Ryosuke nodded in satisfaction and pulled him out.

“You’ll wear the black one. Isn’t it nice to match? Okay, stop frowning—I’m hungry.”

Sakusa flicked his forehead lightly and took him to lunch.

When Ryosuke checked the time, he realized it was late. Remembering Sakusa still had afternoon training, he wolfed down his food at record speed.

Aside from training, this was the fastest he’d ever eaten.

After lunch, Sakusa brought Ryosuke home.

His home.

When it came to bringing someone he liked back with him, he wasted no time.

Ryosuke flopped onto the sofa, rubbing his stomach blankly while looking around.

The place hadn’t changed much since childhood.

Except now, only Sakusa lived here.

It felt a little lonely.

The house was spotless. In the corner stood the small red wooden rocking horse, slightly worn but still polished clean.

It had been Ryosuke’s favorite toy when he was little.

Seeing Ryosuke’s troubled expression, Sakusa sat down beside him.

“What’s wrong?”

Ryosuke sniffled pitifully.

“Rub my stomach. I ate too much. It hurts.”

Sakusa frowned and lectured him in a low voice.

“You’re picky enough as it is, and now you overeat? It’s not like you’ve never had food before. You need to chew properly…”

Ryosuke covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut.

Sakusa was way too naggy.

Before long, he drifted off on the sofa, breathing steady.

Sakusa didn’t disturb him. He carefully picked him up and carried him to the bedroom.

“Bzz…”

A faint buzzing reached his ears.

Sakusa frowned and searched for the source.

After laying Ryosuke on the bed, he saw it—a mosquito on the back of his neck.

His brows knitted tightly.

Without hesitation, he pulled on disinfectant gloves.

Grabbing a disinfectant wipe, he twisted hard against Ryosuke’s neck.

The subtle sensation of crushing flesh made his scalp prickle. His hand unconsciously scraped against the bedsheet, the sickening crunch echoing in his mind.

“Mmm…”

Ryosuke shifted uneasily in his sleep.

Sakusa looked at him.

A red mark had formed on the back of his neck.

He frowned slightly.

He’d used too much force.

Against that pale skin, the red mark looked especially glaring.

He exhaled and pushed the thought aside, tossing away the offending gloves.

Then he went straight to shower.

The moment he’d touched that mosquito, he’d felt unclean.

(Author’s Note / Disclaimer:

When I first started translating this fic, I wasn’t aware that it would include mild romantic undertones between two male characters, as there was no clear indication of that at the beginning. While this element is present, it is not the central focus of the story.

The fic mainly revolves around character interactions, growth, and daily life moments. The relationship portrayed is light, innocent, and wholesome—nothing explicit or heavy. It simply depicts two people who seem to care about each other.

I just wanted to give a heads-up for transparency.)