Chapter 96 - 98

Chapter 96

When Ryosuke woke up, he was in Sakusa’s bedroom. Sakusa was already gone.

After a single nap, he felt inexplicably exhausted. He had no idea why.

Still groggy, he pushed back the covers and fumbled for his phone.

“Ah… it’s already past three.”

There was a message from Sakusa.

Clean Freak: I went to training at school. Done at five. The keys are on the dining table. There are snacks in the fridge. Your dirty clothes are in the washing machine—hang them up yourself.
Next time you come over drenched in sweat without changing, don’t bother coming.

Ryosuke grinned at the message. He rolled back into the blankets, wriggling around before burying his face deep in them and taking a big breath of Sakusa’s scent.

His words might not have been gentle, but he’d still honestly washed all of Ryosuke’s clothes.

Ryosuke suddenly felt like some kind of creep and flushed bright red.

Barefoot and still drowsy, he got out of bed to wash up.

He bounced over to the mirror in Sakusa’s room and admired himself, turning left and right.

This outfit had been picked by Sakusa, but the style was completely Ryosuke’s—colorful and lively. The pale blue fabric was embroidered with large hydrangeas, all done by hand, exquisitely detailed. The neckline dipped low enough to reveal his collarbone, and the sleeves were scattered with tiny gradient blossoms. It suited him perfectly.

It was fine when he didn’t think too much about it, but the moment he did, the bedroom suddenly felt eerie. As if something were staring at him. A chill crept up his back.

Uneasy, he quickly finished dressing, grabbed the keys, and hurried out.

He made his way to the Itachiyama gymnasium. The noisy sounds of practice drifting from inside finally steadied his nerves.

“Volleyball gods, please protect me!”

From a distance, he spotted Sakusa training. Not wanting to disturb him, Ryosuke found a seat off to the side and watched quietly.

Sakusa had noticed him the moment he came in. He’d been casually bouncing the ball, and an almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips. Then he resumed his bafflingly intense routine from the morning, increasing the speed of his sets little by little. When that drill ended, he moved straight into spikes.

He forcefully compressed two hours of practice into an hour and a half, utterly disregarding the well-being of his teammates.

Komori let out a long, ghostly sigh, openly condemning his cousin’s inhumane behavior.

Sakusa paid no attention. Once practice ended, he went straight to shower, leaving behind a group of teammates who had been smashed to pieces by his spikes.

Kishimoto miserably rubbed his arm, sniffling loudly. He’d applied ointment in the morning, and by afternoon it had been battered off by volleyballs again.

Nishio patted his shoulder in consolation. “It’s fine. He’ll be back to normal tomorrow.”

Kishimoto: “Waaaah—”

When Ryosuke saw Sakusa approaching, he excitedly ran up, grabbed his shirt, and launched into a torrent of complaints.

“Sakusa, your house is so weird! I just took a nap and somehow my lip’s split, there are red marks on my waist, and I’m exhausted for no reason. Is there something… unclean at your place? It’s so scary!”

He was too busy talking to notice the flicker of unnatural tension in Sakusa’s eyes.

As he spoke, he started lifting his shirt to show the “evidence.”

Sakusa’s brow twitched. Quick as lightning, he pressed the shirt back down before it could rise too high.

“It’s nothing… probably my bed’s too hard. And your lip? You probably grind your teeth in your sleep.”

Just like that, he firmly pinned the blame on Ryosuke’s teeth-grinding.

In truth, Sakusa had been feeling guilty all afternoon.

When he’d seen Ryosuke sleeping so deeply, he couldn’t even tell whether the emotion flooding him was regret or something else entirely.

He’d practically fled to take another cold shower.

Thinking about it now, yes—he’d definitely been feeling guilty.

Composing himself, Sakusa reached out and ruffled Ryosuke’s hair, his voice gentle.

“It’s fine. You’ve lived at my place for years without any issues, right? Don’t overthink it. Aren’t you going back to the main house to see your brother? Want me to take you?”

The innocent Ryosuke was instantly distracted. Sakusa quietly let out a breath.

“Oh right, I have to go back. No need to send me—you’ve got stuff tonight, don’t you?”

Sakusa nodded as he walked him out. “There’s a meeting tonight. IH’s coming up. Coach is setting our next target.”

Ryosuke happily swung their joined hands. “You’ll definitely be fine at Regionals. We’ll see you at IH—don’t get knocked out before that!”

Sakusa looked at him with a faint smile in his eyes. His voice was so gentle it barely sounded like him.

“Okay.”

Like a breeze brushing past, soft and light against Ryosuke’s thoughts.

Outside the school gates, Matsukawa’s car was already waiting. Reluctantly, Ryosuke let go.

“It’s a promise. IH. Whoever doesn’t make it is a puppy.”

“Okay.” Just a simple word, but from Sakusa, it carried no hint of perfunctory dismissal.

He rubbed his fingers lightly, still lingering with the warmth of Ryosuke’s palm.

Ryosuke waved with a grin. “I’m heading off. I’ll text you later!”

The car slowly drove away. Sakusa stood there for a long time, staring in the direction Ryosuke had left. On his usually cool, detached face, there was a faint trace of reluctance.

The gentle breeze felt lonely again…

He walked home slowly. The house that once felt just right now seemed especially empty. Every corner of it had once been filled with Ryosuke’s presence and laughter.

Now, it felt unfamiliar.

Entering the bedroom, he looked at the messy pile of blankets. For once, his cleanliness obsession didn’t flare up. Instead, he smiled faintly. Of course that lazy guy hadn’t folded them.

The next second, he threw himself onto the bed, burying his face in the covers, breathing deeply as if Ryosuke’s scent still lingered there—only making it more intoxicating.

...

In the car, Matsukawa glanced at sir in the back seat, hesitating, unsure how to begin.

As a butler, he shouldn’t pry into his master’s affairs. But if he didn’t clarify this… If the eldest sir found out a man had been holding the younger sir’s hand, he might go mad.

Ryosuke, playing with a Rubik’s Cube, glanced at him and pouted. “If you’ve got something to say, just say it. Stop looking at me like that.”

Matsukawa coughed awkwardly. “That person just now…?”

Ryosuke suddenly understood. “Oh, that’s Sakusa. When I was little, Dad sent me to live at his house.”

Realization dawned on Matsukawa. No wonder he looked familiar—he was Sakusa’s son.

That eased his mind. Sakusa was practically someone Matsukawa had watched grow up. The boy had always been mature beyond his years, carrying the most natural air of leadership among their circle. When they were young, he’d treated the smaller kids like younger brothers.

Matsukawa relaxed further. And besides, that kid had a cleanliness obsession.

Thinking of that, he stopped worrying entirely.

【Komori: Clean freak? What clean freak? Schrödinger’s clean freak? (muttering angrily)】

The car pulled into the estate as dusk fell. Matsukawa led the way while Ryosuke walked with his head down, texting Washijō.

Entering the dining hall, Ryosuke found Keigo Atobe already waiting. He flashed a bright smile.

“Brother, I’m back!”

Keigo nodded in satisfaction. Finally remembered to come see me.

“Welcome home. Sit down and eat first.”

“Whoa!! There’s sashimi today!”

Keigo chuckled. He’d known Ryosuke would love it. The kid trained so hard every day—of course he should eat something good.

Ryosuke happily pulled out a chair and sat down.

The two brothers chatted as they ate, Matsukawa standing nearby, attending to them.

The sashimi melted in Ryosuke’s mouth, rich and smooth. His eyes nearly closed in bliss. Then he noticed a plate of sushi at the side of the table and brightened.

He stretched out his arm to grab it.

Today, I’ll just relax. Starting tomorrow, these good days are over.

Keigo had been watching him with a smile, finding him adorable.

Until Ryosuke’s movement tugged at his collar, exposing the mark on his neck.

In an instant, Keigo’s face darkened.

Ryosuke didn’t understand—but as the older brother, Keigo understood perfectly.

His teeth clenched. Fury surged to his head. His whole body trembled as he nearly snapped the chopsticks in his hand. He was just about to explode when he forced himself to stop, afraid of scaring Ryosuke.

Matsukawa glanced at the suddenly grim-faced eldest sir.

Matsukawa: Is sir going through menopause again?

Keigo swiftly smoothed his expression and asked gently,

“What did you do today? Tell me about it.”

Ryosuke, ever honest, answered straightforwardly.

“Today I went to Itachiyama to see Sakusa. He used to come to our house for tutoring when we were little—his surname’s Sakusa, he’s Mr. Sakusa’s son. I watched their training, then we went shopping! I bought so many clothes, all different colors! Sakusa even carried my bags.”

Keigo continued evenly, “And then? What did you eat for lunch?”

Growing more animated, Ryosuke bounced slightly in his seat. “He took me to a new sushi place at noon. It was so good! I ate too much and got stuffed. Sakusa even rubbed my stomach for me. He’s really nice.”

“Is that so?” Keigo’s expression shifted subtly.

This fool doesn’t even realize he’s being taken advantage of. Idiot. How did I end up with such a clueless little brother? Did our mother give all the brains to me?

“And the afternoon? I stay home every day. I like hearing about your friends.”

Encouraged, Ryosuke chattered on for over ten minutes.

In those ten minutes, Keigo learned that his brother had taken a nap at that dog’s house at noon—and that the man had even…!

Veins bulged at his temples. In just a few days, someone was already trying to snatch his brother away!

Forcing himself calm, he turned back to Ryosuke, who was nearly finished eating.

“Go take a shower after you’re done. You’ve been running around all day. You’re sweaty.”

Ryosuke grinned. “Hehe, okay! I’ll go now!”

He left carefree.

He scratched his head. Brother looked a little off just now… He sneaked another glance back.

Everything looked normal.

Must’ve imagined it.

The moment the door closed behind him, Keigo’s face turned completely black. He slowly loosened his grip—the chopsticks in his hand had already snapped cleanly in two.

(Keigo Atobe: Now that’s what you call a perfect expression switch.)

Matsukawa stood stiffly to the side, barely daring to breathe. The silence grew oppressive, broken only by the distant chirping of cicadas and croaking of frogs.

After a long while, the sharp crash of shattering glass filled the hall, breaking the suffocating stillness.

Keigo smashed the glass in his hand to the floor, teeth bared.

“Investigate! Who exactly is that Sakusa brat? He’s got some nerve, laying hands on my brother! And check Ryosuke’s schedule today. Get me the mall surveillance photos!”

Even Matsukawa pieced it together now—the careful probing at dinner, the marks he’d glimpsed.

“Yes.”

Matsukawa: I know too many secrets in this household. Am I going to be silenced? (Terrified)

Keigo sank back into his chair, closing his eyes, heart aching and furious all at once.

It felt like someone had stolen something precious right out from under his nose.

Their parents had died early. He’d raised that fair, soft little kid with his own hands. And now, out of nowhere, some shameless bastard had set his sights on him.

For the first time, Keigo truly understood why his business partners would grit their teeth when talking about their daughters dating.

If Ryosuke were a girl, that man would already be finished.

After a while, Matsukawa returned with a stack of photos, hands trembling.

“Get over here!”

He handed them over, then wisely retreated.

The photos showed Ryosuke and Sakusa holding hands while shopping… Sakusa with an arm around his shoulder… a few hugs.

Honestly, they looked like normal friendly gestures.

Keigo tore the photos to pieces and slammed his palm on the table.

“Contact Mr. Sakusa. Tell him—… Forget it. After Ryosuke leaves, I’ll go see that man myself!”

He left the dining hall, fury radiating from him.

A perfect misunderstanding.

The noble, refined head of the household now carried a distinctly fiery edge.

Matsukawa had the table cleared, secretly gloating. So this is what the end of the world looks like for a brother-obsessed man. Poor eldest sir.

Meanwhile, freshly showered and lying in bed playing on his phone, Ryosuke knew nothing of the storm brewing.

He happily texted Sakusa.

Cat Hero: I had super delicious sashimi tonight! What about you?
Clean Freak: Just about to eat.
Clean Freak: [Image]

Sakusa started eating his noodles, but suddenly his right eyelid twitched.

An ominous feeling crept in.

He replayed the day in his mind. Nothing should’ve happened—except Ryosuke going home tonight.

Clean Freak: You wore the outfit I picked, right?

On the other side, Ryosuke happily typed away. Among all the clothes he bought today, aside from the hoodie, the blue one was definitely the prettiest.

Cat Hero: Yeah! It looks amazing!

Sakusa paused.

He remembered the mark he’d accidentally left on the back of Ryosuke’s neck last night…

It should be fine. Just a mosquito bite.

Unless someone looked closely.

His phone suddenly felt hot in his hand.

He really hadn’t meant to. If he hadn’t been annoyed by that “mosquito,” he wouldn’t have touched him. Now there was a mark left behind.

He couldn’t clearly remember what Ryosuke’s brother looked like now—but back when they were kids, he’d been the textbook definition of a brother-obsessive.

When Komori secretly held Ryosuke’s hand, he’d been caught and beaten until both eyes were bruised.

…Maybe I should move first.

Sakusa seriously considered it.

After thinking for a moment, he stood up and called his father.

Far away on a business trip overseas, Mr. Sakusa felt a headache coming on the moment he saw his son’s name on the screen.

This child only calls when something’s wrong.

Night deepened.

Looking at the moon outside the window, Sakusa found he’d lost his appetite entirely.

He didn’t regret it at all.

He just didn’t know whether Keigo Atobe had said anything to Ryosuke.

Given his personality, probably not.

Hopefully his dad would come through…

It was a sleepless night for Sakusa.

Meanwhile, Ryosuke slept especially well.

Even his legs didn’t ache that night.

He woke up bright and refreshed.

...

Chapter 97

Ryosuke woke up at six in the morning, bright and energetic, completely unaware of the storm that had blown through the night before.

Keigo packed Ryosuke’s luggage while nagging nonstop. “Once you’re back, no running around. Train when you’re supposed to train. Take care of your health. Message me every day. Coach Washijō sends me updates about you daily.

And don’t even think about sneaking off to mess around.”

His tone turned serious at the last sentence.

Ryosuke pouted. “Don’t even think about sneaking off to mess around~” he mimicked in a singsong, dripping with sarcasm.

Keigo smiled through gritted teeth. He couldn’t hit him—this was his own kid. What if he knocked him stupid?

Seeing Keigo’s dark expression, Ryosuke immediately chickened out.

He hummed and clung to Keigo’s arm. “Okay, okay, I got it. Why do you worry so much? Relax. I’ll train properly.”

With a sour look on his face, Keigo escorted him out the door.

Sitting in the car, Ryosuke rolled down the window and waved. “I’m off, big bro! I’ll miss you!!”

His smile was dazzling and carefree.

Keigo gave a small nod and watched as the car slowly drove away.

Matsukawa had been sent by Keigo to drive Ryosuke. The moment the car disappeared from view, Keigo went to change his clothes and headed out himself.

Killing intent practically radiated off him. Kid, let’s see what kind of monster you are.

Sakusa—danger.

The night before, Mr. Sakusa had just finished negotiating a business deal and was enjoying a massage in a VIP suite when his precious son stabbed him in the back without warning.

Staring at the incoming call, Mr. Sakusa answered with a headache already forming. “What is it, son?”

Upholding the fine tradition of getting straight to the point, Sakusa opened with a bombshell.

“I accidentally left a mark on Keigo’s younger brother’s neck. There was a mosquito bite, and I twisted it with my hand. Keigo probably saw it by now.”

Sakusa paused briefly.

“That mark looks a little ambiguous.”

Honesty above all—that was Sakusa’s style.

Mr. Sakusa’s hand jerked, nearly dropping the phone. After several deep breaths, he exploded in fury.

“You little brat! Now you remember to call me? Where were you earlier?! Just wait right there—I’m coming back immediately. Stay at home and don’t move…

I’ll call and explain first, but that excuse sounds fake the moment you say it. Do you think he’ll believe you? You idiot, are you trying to kill me? That kid treasures his little brother like he’s made of gold. This is infuriating!”

He was clearly beyond angry.

Only then did Sakusa feel slightly relieved… Why was he so worried about what Keigo might do? Mainly because Keigo was a full-blown brother-con, and he controlled a massive portion of Tokyo’s upper-class wealth.

Of everyone raised in that wolf’s den of a household—the Hanyu family—Ryosuke was the only one who came out still a little white flower.

Keigo, on the other hand, was a little lunatic. At such a young age, he had single-handedly stabilized the Hanyu family. The heads of other conglomerates never dared challenge him just because he was young.

The Sakusa family was also considered a prestigious household in Tokyo and had always maintained decent relations with the Hanyu family. But trying to take Keigo’s precious little brother home? In the past decade, only Kiyoomi Sakusa had dared to attempt it.

Almost the moment Ryosuke left, Keigo headed straight for Itachiyama.

What would happen in Tokyo next remained unknown. Whatever unfolded had nothing to do with a certain Ryosuke—carefree, heartless, and a bit of an idiot.

Meanwhile, Ryosuke was already on his way back to Miyagi.

Time was tight. Since he’d stayed overnight, he had to make it back to school before class started.

The car was driven at near life-or-death speed.

He barely made it into the classroom at the exact second the bell rang.

Catching his breath, Ryosuke set down his backpack and finally relaxed.

After second period, Goshiki and Ryosuke headed to the gym together. It was the volleyball club’s routine—every Monday after second period, the whole team gathered for a meeting.

“Ryosuke, how was your weekend? I didn’t see you come to practice.”

After two days apart, Goshiki’s clinginess seemed to have leveled up. He stood on tiptoe and slung an arm around Ryosuke’s shoulders.

Tilting his head, he asked, “Ryosuke… why do I feel like you’re taller than me now??”

“Really??” Ryosuke turned to compare heights. “Feels like I did grow a little… Did I get taller again??”

“After the meeting, you two grab Yunohama and go to the team doctor for a checkup.”

That familiar, concerned tone could only belong to Reon.

The two turned around. “Reon-senpai!”

Reon nodded. Ah, the kid had grown taller. There was an oddly paternal satisfaction on his face.

The three of them walked into the gym and found that most people were already there.

Semi and Tendō were arguing.

“I saw Semi out on the street yesterday—with his girlfriend. But seriously, his casual clothes are so ugly.”

“Huh?? Tendō, are you asking for a fight?!”

“Yohohohoho—” Tendō’s bizarre laughter rang out.

“But your casual clothes really are ugly,” Shirabu added expressionlessly as he passed by.

“Hey! You two!!”

The moment Tendō spotted Ryosuke, he abandoned Semi and threw himself onto Ryosuke instead, resting his chin on top of his head and gripping his shoulders as he swayed him back and forth.

“Little Ryosuke didn’t text me all weekend. Tendō-senpai is heartbroken, waaaah—”

“Tendō-senpai, are you a pervert? Please don’t touch my waist!”

Ryosuke was long immune to Tendō’s fake crying.

Tendō suddenly pinched him hard.

“Senpai!” Ryosuke yelped—this time it genuinely hurt.

Tendō immediately let go. “Sorry, Little Ryosuke. Did I pinch too hard?”

Ryosuke’s face darkened. “It’s fine, senpai. Just don’t use that much strength next time.”

Tendō smiled and nodded, hiding the gloom in his eyes. Behind his back, his fingers were already cracking audibly.

That mark was an outright provocation. Who did it… It had to be that fake goody-two-shoes Sakusa.

His eyes churned with emotion as he stared at Ryosuke. Little Ryosuke… aren’t you my kitten anymore…

A chill ran down Ryosuke’s spine. That sensation of being watched crept up again. He looked around nervously, like a cat with its fur standing on end.

His danger radar really was sharp.

Tendō fell silent, though no one knew what calculations were brewing in his mind.

Kawanishi clicked his tongue quietly, lamenting that Ryosuke had been targeted by a predator lying in wait.

A moment later, Coach Washijō entered with the advisor.

The first thing he did upon stepping inside was glare fiercely at Ryosuke, condemning someone’s shameless behavior of staying out all night.

Ryosuke shrank his neck and darted behind Ushijima. Only Ushijima-senpai’s broad back could give him a sense of security.

Ushijima glanced at the inexplicably guilty-looking Ryosuke and instinctively straightened, blocking Coach Washijō’s line of sight.

Coach Washijō snorted but didn’t say anything in the end.

The advisor pinned a sheet to the small blackboard.

Coach Washijō scanned the room and spoke slowly. “IH is one week away. Up next is the prefectural tournament.

Last year, Shiratorizawa won the prefectural tournament, so we have a bye in the first round this year.

The format is single elimination. Forty outstanding teams from Miyagi Prefecture will be divided into eight groups of five. The tournament lasts three days.

Groups will be decided by lottery. Tomorrow, Ushijima and I will go draw lots. Let’s hope this year isn’t like last year.”

The moment he finished, everyone except the three first-years turned to look at Ushijima. He stiffly turned his head away, pretending not to notice.

Goshiki blinked in confusion and asked Reon, “Reon-senpai, why is everyone staring at Ushijima-senpai?”

Reon snorted. “Thanks to your captain, last year we drew straight into the group of death. We faced Aobajosai, Date Tech, and Wakutani in the group stage—basically eliminated each other internally. Then the quarterfinals right after. Three straight days—almost killed us.”

Goshiki’s eyes widened in shock.

Ryosuke, meanwhile, thought he could almost see grievance written across Ushijima’s face. You can’t really blame the captain for bad luck…

Even though it was all joking, Ryosuke felt a little sorry for him.

From behind, Shirabu said calmly, “No matter what, it can’t be worse than last year. Relax.”

Reon sighed. “True.”

Coach Washijō cleared his throat.

“Alright. Train hard these next two days. Tomorrow’s the draw. The day after and the day after that, you’ll research your opponents. They’re all old rivals. Don’t embarrass yourselves. Understood?!”

His voice suddenly rose at the end.

“Yes!!”

The gym echoed with a unified response.

Coach Washijō nodded and headed for the door. Just before stepping out, he paused, hesitated, and turned back with a subtle expression.

“Hmm… Tomorrow’s draw. Reon, you’re coming too.”

“Yes!” Reon responded, slightly bewildered at being singled out.

Once Coach Washijō left, Tendō burst out laughing and slapped Ushijima on the shoulder. “That was disgust, right? That look just now was total disgust!”

Ushijima calmly removed Tendō from his back. “It’s fine if Reon draws. I don’t want to be drained dry in the group stage.”

“Oh ho~” Tendō teased.

Ryosuke and the others exchanged glances. Suddenly, Yunohama remembered something and turned to Ushijima.

“Captain, we still don’t have our uniforms…”

Ushijima opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Yamagata slapped his forehead.

“Oh right, I almost forgot! Your uniforms are with the PE head teacher. I’ll go get them now!”

He dashed out like a gust of wind.

Goshiki clenched his fists and howled, “I finally get a uniform too—!”

Yunohama and Ryosuke looked at each other, the same excitement shining in their eyes.

Receiving the official team uniform was the day every first-year had been waiting for.

Even Yunohama cheered quietly.

Kawanishi and Semi stepped forward to ruffle the trio’s hair. “Congratulations! From now on, you’ll carry the team forward and keep winning!”

Goshiki’s bowl cut practically bounced as he nodded vigorously. “From now on, I’m the ace!”

“Hey, kid. We’re still here, you know. Don’t get cocky.”

Reon put on a stern face. Goshiki knew he was just pretending and grinned fearlessly.

“Coming, coming—”

Yamagata’s voice rang out from outside. He returned holding three packages.

“Let’s see. This one’s Ryosuke’s. This one’s Yunohama’s. And this one’s Goshiki’s. Alright, go try them on.”

He handed them out, hands on hips, nodding with satisfaction.

The three were glowing with joy as they went to change.

In the locker room, Ryosuke opened his package and blinked in surprise. “Huh? Is this a mistake? Why do I have two?”

Yunohama and Goshiki leaned over.

Inside were two jerseys—one white, one purple—both with a bold number 6 printed on them.

Yunohama adjusted his glasses. “Shouldn’t be a mistake. Goshiki and I only have one. Yours looks like the one Yamagata-senpai usually wears.”

Ryosuke nodded, half-understanding.

Goshiki hugged his jersey and rubbed it against his face excitedly. “I’m number eight! Yunohama’s seven! Ryosuke’s six! We’re all lined up!”

“What are you so excited about…”

After changing, the three stepped out. Ryosuke was wearing the same uniform as the others.

Yamagata clapped. “Looking good, everyone!”

Reon and the others turned to look. Under the gym lights, in brand-new uniforms and brimming with youthful energy, they shone so brightly it was almost blinding. For a moment, it felt like looking at their own first-year selves again.

Holding the extra libero jersey, Ryosuke asked, “Yamagata-senpai… what about this one?”

Yamagata’s eyes curved into a smile. “That’s the libero jersey. Not sure if you’ll wear it in matches this year, but Coach Washijō said that once I graduate, Shiratorizawa’s floor defense will be yours.”

He gave Ryosuke’s shoulder a firm pat. Beneath the jersey, he could feel solid muscle. He couldn’t help remembering how thin those shoulders had been when Ryosuke first enrolled.

He nodded, deeply satisfied.

Ryosuke tightened his grip on the jersey and looked up at him with determination. In that moment, senior and junior stood face-to-face—it felt exactly like an inheritance being passed down.

“Alright, back to class. Training resumes this afternoon,” Reon said, shooing everyone out.

Back in the classroom, Ryosuke still couldn’t calm down. He stared at the uniform tucked inside his desk for a long time.

Only then did he truly realize—

He was really about to step onto the court.

...

Chapter 98

After school, Ryosuke went to Sendai Gymnasium. He hadn’t gone over the weekend to practice his serve.

As he approached the entrance, he spotted a large notice board set up outside. It read:

“Due to the commencement of the Prefectural Tournament, the venue will be closed.”

Ryosuke stopped in his tracks. So the Prefectural Tournament was being held at Sendai Gymnasium? What a blunder.

He sighed and texted Udai an apology, saying he’d have to wait until after the tournament to continue training.

Udai: It’s fine. I’ve taught you everything I can. The rest is up to you.

Ryosuke tightened his grip on his phone, eyes steady. At his current level, he’d be able to use the hook serve by the Inter-High.

With that settled in his mind, he slowly walked home.

That night, lying in bed, he stared at his team uniform, joy nearly spilling out of his chest.

Excitement for the competition mixed with nervous anticipation. He rolled around on his bed several times, unable to contain himself.

The day had finally come. During those silent years of his life, every night he had dreamed of standing on the center court. That single dream had taken him years just to step onto the stage for.

He had just received a message from Hinata saying he wanted Ryosuke to come watch the prefectural tournament.

Ryosuke readily agreed. When it came to Hinata, he always felt like he was watching his own kid grow up. He knew exactly how gifted Hinata was. The thought that he had personally nurtured such a powerful future rival was thrilling.

With all kinds of tangled emotions, Ryosuke hugged his uniform and fell into a deep sleep.

In his dream, he stood once again beneath the dazzling lights of center court. Applause. The roar of the crowd. His teammates cheering.

Ryosuke believed in that dream as firmly as he believed that day would come.

It wasn’t so much a dream as a future reality…

The next morning at school, the moment Tsutomu Goshiki saw Ryosuke enter the classroom, he eagerly rushed over and claimed the seat beside him.

“Ryosuke, I heard the draw results came out this morning!”

“Yeah?” Ryosuke replied absentmindedly, rubbing his aching leg. The pain had kept him up all night.

The past two nights, his knee had hurt so badly he could barely sleep.

“Goshiki, come with me to see the team doctor later.”

Goshiki’s eyes went wide, immediately assuming something was seriously wrong.

“What happened?! Are you okay?!”

Ryosuke couldn’t help laughing at his overreaction.

“It’s fine. Just my knee.”

“Your knee hurts and that’s ‘fine’?! The tournament’s about to start!”

Ryosuke pressed a hand against Goshiki’s shoulder to calm him down.

“Relax. It’s just growing pains.”

Goshiki still looked uneasy. After class, he dragged Yunohama along with them to the team doctor’s office.

Inside the office, Saito raised an eyebrow at the three standing neatly in a row, wondering what trouble they were bringing this time.

Ryosuke explained his situation glumly. It didn’t affect training during the day, but at night the pain was so bad he couldn’t sleep.

Yunohama pushed up his glasses, lenses flashing faintly. “I thought it was just me. Mine hurts at night too—and sometimes during the day.”

Now Goshiki panicked for real. He shot to his feet and stared at them.

“Then why don’t I hurt?! Did you two secretly hit your growth spurts without telling me?!”

The way his voice rose at the end sounded like a wife accusing her cheating husband.

Saito gave him a speechless look and went to fetch ointment and bandages.

“Everyone hits their growth spurt at different times. You two just had the bad luck of it lining up with the tournament. Goshiki, don’t rush it. With your height, when your time comes, it’ll probably be even tougher than theirs.”

Goshiki’s face drained of color as he immediately imagined himself in their situation.

“During a growth spurt, the knees are especially fragile. You have to protect them. If you push through and play anyway, you could easily develop synovitis. You two should talk to the coach about this.”

Ryosuke walked back to class in a daze. He couldn’t help interpreting that as: better not play, or you’ll end up with a lasting injury.

He had just received his uniform yesterday, and now it felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him. In the sweltering heat, his heart felt icy.

He drifted through the entire morning.

After afternoon classes ended, everyone headed to the gym as usual.

Lost in thought, Ryosuke was hit square in the face by an oncoming volleyball.

“Bang!”

“Ah! Ryosuke, are you okay?!”

He rubbed his reddened nose and shook his head at the flustered Kawanishi. “I’m fine.”

Then he drifted away like a wandering spirit.

Kawanishi stood frozen. Did I just knock his brain loose?!

In the corner, Ryosuke and Yunohama exchanged a glance, both looking downcast.

Tendo and Reon couldn’t make sense of the unusually gloomy first-years.

Just as they were about to ask, the adviser entered and immediately noticed the two slumped figures in the corner. With a faintly amused look, he called them out.

The remaining seniors exchanged glances.

“They didn’t do something stupid, did they?” Yamagata muttered.

“Impossible,” Ushijima said firmly.

“Then what’s going on?” Kawanishi asked, still feeling inexplicably guilty about the ball earlier.

Goshiki walked past holding a volleyball, looking confused. Why aren’t they asking me??

Though a little annoyed, ever-helpful Goshiki explained anyway.

“Their knees hurt.”

That sent ripples through the group.

“Growing pains??”

“Probably. We missed a tournament our first year because of that.”

“Yikes. Ryosuke and Yunohama must feel awful.”

Outside, they found Saito and Coach Washijō waiting.

Coach Washijō already knew Ryosuke’s knee hurt at night, but he hadn’t realized it was this bad. The kid hadn’t said a word. It made him both angry and worried. Stubborn brat—never learns.

He rolled his eyes.

“I know what’s going on. The team doctor checked Ryosuke’s knee. It only hurts at night. If he plays, he has to wear a knee brace—with ointment wrapped inside.”

Ryosuke’s eyes lit up. That was basically permission to play. He broke into a bright grin.

He knew Coach Washijō would agree. Having watched him get this far, he wouldn’t make him give up so easily.

Coach Washijō turned his face away, looking exasperated. That foolish grin was hard to look at.

Beside him, Yunohama’s eyes filled with hope. If Ryosuke could go… then maybe he—

“Yunohama.”

Coach Washijō’s gaze shifted. The next words weighed like a thousand pounds.

“Your case is more serious than Ryosuke’s. The team doctor estimates your growth spurt was too intense—it came all at once, increasing the load on your knees. And your knees hurt during the day too, don’t they? You never said anything.

If you insist on playing, there’s a real chance of irreversible damage after your growth spurt ends. Whether you go or not is your choice. Just don’t regret it.”

Yunohama fell into heavy silence.

Coach Washijō was strict, but he never gambled with a player’s future. Ever since Reon had insisted on playing through his growth spurt in his first year and ended up injuring his knee, it had been a thorn in the old coach’s heart.

He didn’t want to watch another student walk step by step toward a dead end. That was the one thing he refused to compromise on.

Yunohama pressed his lips together. He wanted to play. He wanted to fight on court. But reality didn’t bend for passion.

“I’ll play,” he finally said. “Let me be a substitute.”

It was the biggest compromise he could make. If he couldn’t stand shoulder to shoulder with them, then at least he wanted to witness their climb to the top. Even if he was just there for the ride, it would ease his heart a little.

Coach Washijō sighed and nodded.

“No matter what, it’s your body. I’ll be keeping a close eye on both of you,” Saito said with a small smile.

Ryosuke could see the unwillingness in Yunohama’s eyes. That deep frustration—he understood it too well. He began thinking about how to comfort him.

“Alright. Back inside,” Coach Washijō said with a wave.

As soon as they entered, they were greeted by a wave of noise. Coach Washijō’s face darkened instantly.

Ushijima, catching sight of him, gave a subtle cough.

Tendo immediately stopped mid-sentence. As Ushijima’s close friend and resident intuition monster, he instantly understood the meaning behind that cough.

Sure enough—

“What are you all doing?!”

The roar echoed through the gym.

It was like someone hit the mute button. The entire place fell dead silent.

Coach Washijō stood by the small blackboard, glaring at the energetic players.

Ryosuke and Yunohama quickly returned to formation.

After scolding everyone one by one, Coach Washijō moved on to the draw results.

“The groupings are out. We’re in the same bracket as Date Tech. The other three schools? All teams you beat last year—the kind you can’t even remember the names of! When the time comes, you’d better perform properly, understood?!”

Sports were ruthless. Out of forty teams in Miyagi Prefecture, Shiratorizawa could count the ones they truly remembered on one hand. Strength decided everything.

“Yes!”

The unified shout shook the gym. Satisfied, Coach Washijō left.

After he was gone, Shirabu looked at Ushijima curiously.

“Ushijima-senpai… you didn’t draw the lot this time, right?”

Ushijima nodded stiffly.

“Seriously?!” Yamagata popped up.

Reon chuckled. “I drew it. Why are you all so distrustful of Ushijima’s luck?”

That single sentence cast silence over them.

Shirabu gave an awkward laugh. “No, it’s fine.” Even as Ushijima’s most devoted supporter, he had zero confidence in his luck.

Ushijima looked slightly depressed. Luck really was unpredictable.

After a bit of teasing, the topic died down.

“Anyone going to watch tomorrow’s matches?” Ushijima asked.

Ryosuke froze, remembering his promise to a certain little orange.

“I’m going!”

“Come to school tomorrow,” Ushijima said. “We’ll go together.”

Ryosuke nodded.

When he went to look for Yunohama afterward, he realized he was gone. He must have slipped away during the conversation.

Ryosuke scratched his head in frustration.

When Goshiki found out what had happened, those still present fell into silence.

Reon quietly held his knee for a moment before standing.

“Don’t worry. I’ll go check on him.”

Goshiki tried to follow, but Kawanishi pulled him back.

“Reon damaged his meniscus badly after playing through his growth spurt as a first-year. He understands. Don’t interfere.”

Ryosuke and Goshiki finally let it go.

———Day One of the Prefectural Tournament

Early the next morning, Ryosuke woke up before dawn. Only now did he truly feel it—his dream had officially begun.

After breakfast, just as he was about to leave, Coach Washijō called out.

“Get back here!”

Ryosuke turned around to see him holding a small bowl of dark ointment, looking displeased.

With a snort, Coach Washijō pulled out bandages and a knee brace.

“Leg out. I’ll show you once. From now on, until your growth spurt is over, you wrap this every morning. You never say anything when something’s wrong! How am I supposed to know what you’re thinking?”

He muttered the whole time, carefully applying ointment and wrapping several tight layers around the knee.

Ryosuke stared at him, noticing how careful—how faintly trembling—his hands were. His chest tightened.

When he was little, before his grandfather passed away, he used to visit Coach Washijō’s house often. Once, he had seen him playing volleyball in the backyard.

He remembered it clearly. The not-so-strong old man jumped toward the ball. The sunlight that day was blinding. For a split second, it had looked like he had grown wings.

The ball slammed into the ground with a thunderous crack, and something exploded inside young Ryosuke’s heart. A seed was planted.

That scene had stayed with him for years. The ball Coach Washijō had struck back then had traveled through time—into Ryosuke’s own hands.

So that fierce little old man had grown old too…

Coach Washijō looked up and saw him on the verge of tears.

“What are you staring at? It’s done. What, you want me to help you stand up too?”

The sharp scolding shattered the moment. Ryosuke’s lips twitched. So much for the emotional atmosphere.

He stood and bounced lightly. The bandage was tight and already warm. He tested his knee’s movement and nodded in satisfaction.

Slipping on his backpack, he turned back. “I’m meeting Ushijima-senpai to watch the matches. See you!”

Coach Washijō nodded—then spotted a suspicious bulge in the backpack.

“Hold it! What did you stuff in there, brat?!”

Ryosuke bolted. No way he was letting Coach Washijō find the full bag of high-calorie chips inside. He might not be allowed back home tonight.

He ran all the way to school and found Ushijima waiting at the gate.

After a brief exchange, Ushijima nodded solemnly.

Then the two of them headed to Sendai Gymnasium together.

The venue was already bustling. Even before reaching the entrance, crowds filled the area. Many teams were sitting on the lobby floor, waiting for announcements to call them to warm up.

When Ushijima and Ryosuke arrived, it caused a small stir.