#I think he even beat akito in terms of lines

[downbadmostofthetime]

YALL I FUCKING KNEW IT I KNEW SOUMA WOULD PLAY A BIG PART IN THE NEXT VBS EVENT IT WAS SO CLEAR ‼️‼️‼️

[seiin-translations]

2.43 S1 Chapter 4.5 - Drifting Yunichika

5. HIGH, FAST, STRONG

Sorry it took so long, there was a lot going on in this chapter

Translation Notes

1. I don’t think I word it very well here but Haijima literally says “obsessing over the face for their school grade” which I think basically means worrying over acting their age or something like that

2. I don’t know if there even is a term in English for this but a high set (二段トス) is where another player sets the ball instead of the setter because the received ball is off

3. The Sanzu River is the Buddhist equivalent of the River Styx

Previous || Index || Next

The Prefectural High School Fall Tournament was held for three days on August 1st, August 2nd, and August 3rd. For the past several years, the number of schools participating in boys’ volleyball official tournaments was fixed at twenty-two. The tournament consisted of the first round on the first day, the second round on the second day, and the semifinals and finals on the third day.

You had to win five matches to win the championship. However, Seiin High School was lucky enough to get a seeded spot in the first round of the tournament, so they would participate in the second round. In other words, they had to win four matches.

Just four matches. Those were the same conditions as the prefecturals a year ago.

As Haijima had said, the fact that there were no sub-prefectural block qualifiers and only twenty participating schools in the whole prefecture would be an unthinkable scope in a large city. That was how close it was to Nationals, but it was also undeniable that it was difficult to maintain the level of competition because there were few competitors.

Seiin High School’s first game was on August 2nd, the second day of the tournament. Before the start of the first game of the day and the second round of the tournament, the banner that read “Nanafu Seiin High School Boys’ Volleyball Team” written boldly and masculinely in black ink on white cloth, hung from the second floor of the stands and released an overwhelming presence. Needless to say, it was in the hand of Kuroba’s grandfather, as it was in the case of Monshiro Middle School. He repeatedly instructed his mother to refrain from having a large cheering squad of all his relatives as she did in middle school, but she asked to at least hang a banner. He reluctantly discussed it with Oda, and the moment he saw the actual thing, he had taken to it completely. I’ve thought about this now and then, but Oda-senpai and Grandpa would definitely get along.

I’m not…nervous today…right…?

He carefully confirmed that with himself. His body was moving well. His heartbeat was normal. Unlike the school gym, the air conditioning was working in city-run gymnasium, so it was rather cool if anything, and right now he was sweating moderately after finishing his warmup. He didn’t feel uncomfortable. I feel like I can really do it today…then again, I always think that before a match.

“Yuniii! Yuuuni!”

He heard someone calling him through the buzz that enveloped the court right before the game. He turned his head to the second floor and spotted Itoko waving at him right above the “Nanafu Seiin High School Boys’ Volleyball Team” banner hanging from the front row.

With a face that said “You found me!”, Itoko stood and pointed to the seat next to her. “Look, look!”

“Ah… Yori-chan…”

Yorimichi, wearing a tight tank top and a Hawaiian shirt, was yawning as he plunked down on the plastic chair that looked cramped for someone of his size. This was the first time he saw him since he became a university student, but with his long hair tied all the way back into a bun, he looked even more like a punk. He was a bit impressed by how even though he was plenty vulgar in his third year of high school, he still had room to get worse.

Come to think of it, he should have returned yesterday. Itoko looked as though she was proud of the achievement of bringing her brother here. It had been about a year and a half since Kuroba started playing volleyball seriously, and this was the first time Yorimichi came to watch a match.

Why did he come? He wondered. Well, he was probably dragged here by Itoko because he happened to be back, but even so, he wouldn’t have gotten up even if Itoko invited him when he’s at home, so why did he decide to come today? I wonder what he’ll think when he watches my game. Would he make fun of me? Maybe he’d laugh and say, “Why are you being so serious about sports?”

He met eyes with Yorimichi. Kuroba thoughtlessly smiled in spite of himself, but Yorimichi didn’t smile. With a bored look on his face, he jerked his chin, as though to say, “Give me something to look at.”

What should I do… What should he show Yorimichi to satisfy him? Can he get him not to say things like “I shouldn’t have come to see this”, “This is a waste of time,” or “I got woken up early for this?”

His back was poked. He turned back with a start and saw Haijima putting his fist on the left side of Kuroba’s back, right behind his heart, and glaring at him with a stern look in his eyes. It was then that he became aware that his heart, which had been calm earlier, was now beating faster.

“Ugh…Sorry again, I…”

“I told you not to look around. Just look inside the court. Everyone’s there. Enemies…and friends too.”

As he felt Haijima’s fist pressing against his back through his uniform for a while, strangely enough, his heart which had been bouncing like a rubber ball gradually regained its normal weight.

“Don’t be in a hurry. Just wait.”

When Haijima said that and lowered his fist, his heart beating in its normal position. It was like he was preparing for battle, and the taping on Haijima’s fingers absorbed his nerves.

Haijima no longer paid Kuroba any attention and started talking to Oda and the others at the courtside. Kuroba hurriedly joined the circle of matching uniforms. Seiin’s uniform was black with blue lines. Only the libero had the reverse color scheme of black on blue. When Okuma was handed the uniform, he made an ominous prediction that the team would lose halfway because those weren’t the colors of a protagonist team, and Oda had gotten angry at him (According to Okuma, the protagonist team’s colors were a combination of “white and blue.” He thought he understood what he meant).

The starting members for Seiin High School were,

Number 1       Oda Shinichiro    Third Year       Left        163cm

Number 2       Aoki Misao          Third Year       Center   193cm

Number 4       Kanno Akito        Second Year   Right     181cm

Number 7       Kuroba Yuni         First Year        Left        184cm

Number 8       Haijima Kimichika      First Year     Setter     181cm

Number 10     Okuma Yusuke     Second Year     Center     187cm

Number 5       Hokao Kazuma     Second Year     Libero     170cm

Reserve Number 3     Uchimura Naoyasu     Second Year      175cm

The above eight members were going into the match with all their strength.

For Haijima, this tournament would be his debut high school game, but as expected of someone with nerves as thick as sewer pipes, he didn’t seem nervous at all as he went over the formation with Oda and the others. They were the only school in the tournament that had a first-year as the setter, which was a position rare for even a second-year starting member to be in due to its importance as a so-called “playmaker” position. It was already attracting attention, but Haijima didn’t care about the gazes of others, or rather, he didn’t notice.

Both teams took the court, and the cheers of the waiting parents grew louder. I wonder if Yorimichi’s voice is mixed in with them…I doubt it, though…

Crap, my mind is on the outside of the court again. I have to focus on the inside of the court. He ruminated on Haijima’s words like they were a magic spell and let them soak into his body.

“Everything is inside the court. Enemies…and friends too.”

That guy said…friends. He felt like it was the first time he heard that word from Haijima’s mouth.

He subconsciously searched for him. Haijima still wasn’t on the court. He was standing on the sidelines and fiddling with the taping on his fingers in front of his stomach. Huh…? He’s doing that thing again…?

He shook his head lightly, put his hands down to his sides, and fixed his gaze on the court, his face as stiffly focused as ever. It was a face that said everything important in this world was on the nine-by eighteen-meter volleyball court.

From the beginning of the first set to the middle, Seiin used the newly incorporated center and right combination attacks from the training camp to get most of their points until the scores of both teams reached the ten point range. The dexterous duo of Aoki and Kanno toyed with the enemy’s blocks so easily that it was funny.

And after all was said and done, it was Haijima who was masterminding that. In addition to the transcendent accuracy of his overhand handling, he was able to set the ball to any place with one hand even when the receives to the front of the net were disordered. In addition, if there was even the slightest opening——.

Haijima’s left hand flashed over the net as he looked to make a jump set. In the next moment, a two-attack was made launched into the opponent’s territory with unbelievable speed.

The other team froze, and the gallery let out cries of surprise. It seemed to have become a rumor in the venue that Seiin, a team that was completely out of the limelight, was displaying an unusual strength from the first game with an incredible rookie in their ranks. There were even people who looked like they were from the high school sports association appearing here and there on the court.

——However. He had not set a single ball to Kuroba, who was in the ace position. He was beginning to feel like he wasn’t going to hit a single ball in this match. He was sure that Yorimichi was in the stands right now, being disgusted that he wasn’t being useful at all. Even the blocker of the opposing team who he was matched up with was starting to get a look on his face like, “Why is this guy on the court?” He was beginning to feel bad that they marked him.

Oda also made a high-speed back row attack. Through the training camp, he had come to be able to match Haijima’s sets, which literally meant “high and fast,” perfectly. Kuroba’s and Oda’s highest points were thirty centimeters apart, but they were able to do powerful back-row attacks as though they were hitting the ball at the same positions.

What the hell am I doing here? He couldn’t help but feel that way. If they wouldn’t let him hit, then the team would be much better off putting Uchimura in, who played better defense than Kuroba. During the training camp, Oda and the others were searching for a formation that prioritized receiving ability by swapping Kuroba and Uchimura.

If it was until yesterday, it might have gone bad. But… He recalled his conversation with Oda this morning.

“What do you think are the features of Haijima’s sets?”

It occurred when everyone was going to the competition venue. Oda had stopped Kuroba and asked him that.

“They’re high, fast, and straight. A B pass somehow becomes an A pass. He’s unpredictable when sending the ball to the front or back, so even his teammates don’t know where it’s going. But the worst is that he has no intention to match the attackers. He makes difficult sets with a face that says ‘It’s your fault if it doesn’t reach you.’”

He answered with complaints mixed in. Oda smiled, looking strangely happy.

“Yeah. The basic ability of a good setter is to make the attacker feel good about hitting the ball. On that point, Haijima’s sets has too much of his own tendencies and are difficult to hit. But why do you think they’re difficult?”

Kuroba was puzzled by the further questioning. Even if he was asked why, all he could say was that they reflected Haijima’s sadistic and inconsiderate personality.

“Haijima’s sets are probably customized to each attacker’s ability with precision. Everyone’s highest jumping points, takeoff, and swing speed is different. The set comes right in at the moment when each person is swinging at their highest points, within a few tenths of a second. However, he doesn’t set the ball to the place where it’s comfortable to hit it, he sets it to where it would be a little difficult. It’s not a place where you can’t reach at all, but a place where you will be able to reach if you really concentrate, stretch your nerves all over your body, and bring out your maximum power to hit. That’s why I’m practicing with Haijima…I’m getting better. I realized that for the first time in a match. I can see my surroundings better than in practice. I’m gaining the ability to hit at the highest point. As far as I know, there’s no setter as dedicated as that guy.”

The word “dedicated” was about as far from Haijima as the other side of the universe, and it somehow sent a shudder down Kuroba’s spine. Seeing his doubtful face, Oda laughed again.

“Kuroba, you don’t believe in Haijima?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe in him, but…”

“Actually, Haijima told me something. He told me that no matter what happened today, I shouldn’t bench you.”

“Huh…?”

“It’s not Haijima you don’t believe in, but just yourself. If you can’t believe in yourself, try believing in Haijima.”

Hokao made a beautiful A-pass to Haijima. Aoki and Kanno ran to intersect each other behind Haijima to divert the block targets. Oda also jumped out to do a back-row attack.

Haijima threw a glance at him for a moment under his hands, which were held in an overhand stance.

“Just wait.” ——Haijima’s words before the game echoed in his head.

Before he could think about it, his body was moving and he was doing an approach run. Two well-paced steps with his right foot and then left foot. On the third step, he stepped firmly on the floor with his two feet, right and left, and lowered his ankles, knees, hips deeply. He swung his arms from back to front deeply, releasing the power stored in his lower body to leap into the air. The entire floor threw his body up high due to his elasticity—the result when one could jump the highest.

There was nothing blocking the space above the net of two meters and forty centimeters. I’m completely unmarked! The opponent’s blocking was completely shaken off by Aoki’s and Kanno’s movements. For a sensible few seconds, he stood still in the air and had a clear view of the opponent’s entire court. The course that he was meant to pierce the ball down seemed to automatically emerge. It was a sport where you had to defend a nine-by-nine meter court with a reaction speed of a few tenths of a second. If you lagged for even a moment, there would be an opening there.

Even though today was the first time they played together, even though they hadn’t played together properly during the training camp, Haijima’s set flew “straight” towards Kuroba’s highest point, so precise and accurate that it was incredible. The timing was perfect. It fit right into his hand without a millimeter of deviation. All he had to do was to leave it to the rotation of his body and swing his arms.

The ball, driven in at an acute angle, bounced up in the opponent’s court with a bang. The highest, fastest, strongest——!

He was able to spike with all his power in an official game, something he kept failing at ever since the middle school prefecturals. He didn’t know what he was stumbling over, so he was at a complete loss for a whole year. Then that single set came to him like a sword of light cutting through the darkness, and he just hit it without thinking about anything, forgetting himself completely——. He still couldn’t believe he hit it. Why couldn’t he do it until now?

“If you can’t believe in yourself, try believing in Haijima.”

At that moment, they connected. Haijima’s—that guy’s—clumsy, easy to misunderstand, disconnected words became one thought. “I won’t let that happen again.” “I’ll prove it at the Fall Tournament.” “I’ll make every ball I set to you the best ones.” “Don’t be in a hurry. Just wait.”

“Kuroba!”

As though he was tired of waiting for the long flight time to end, Oda jumped at him and put him in a headlock.

“Okay, that’s enough!”

With his hair mussed up, Kuroba absentmindedly answered, “Ah…okay.” Hokao poked his shoulder, and Aoki slapped his butt. Kanno, who was moving back to serve, gave him a small peace sign. Okuma and Uchimura were loudly cheering something from the warm-up zone.

“Seiin High School has two immoveable pillars: the high-speed combination performance developed by setter Haijima Kimichika and the explosive offensive power of ace Kuroba Yuni—we’ll be the team that people will talk like that about.”

When it seemed that the referee was going to give them a warning, Oda finally released Kuroba’s head with a “got you” look on his face.

“Well, it’s also because I was talked into it by Haijima.”

He bashfully added, and then his expression stiffened.

“Alright, Kuroba, let’s take it from here.”

“Y-Yes.”

Kuroba nodded, his cheeks flushed. He was so happy to hear the words “Ace Kuroba Yuni” from Oda’s mouth that his inferiority complex from the training camp was easily blown away.

It was just as Haijima said. You’re the team’s ace. He felt like the world was turning out just as Haijima said, and a shiver welled up from deep within him with a little bit of fear and excitement that swallowed that up.

Haijima was the only one who was completely calm about the one play and was already observing the opponent’s court with his mind on the next play. The rotation turned once, and the front row now consisted of, from the left, Haijima, Kuroba, and Aoki. The player must the rotation’s positional relationship until the ball was served, or it would be a positional fault penalty. The moment the ball was served, Haijima must quickly move to the right side and have the line order be replaced with Kuroba, Aoki, and Haijima, the three of them stood by in a tight group near the center of the front row.

“You were considering this from the beginning. Leaving me out from the combination practice…”

He couldn’t help but whisper that question as he and Haijima were huddled together behind Aoki.

In the prefecturals a year ago, Kuroba had been overly conscious of the blocks and fell apart spectacularly after being persistently marked by the opposing team. However, since Kuroba was the only attacker who could hit the ball, they had no choice but to set all the balls to him, and there was no way to get himself unmarked.

But now——Haijima said, “I can do things differently.” If the opponent was aware that their team used the center-right combination a lot, they would become wary of it and adopt a blocking system that was closer to the right, and the mark on Kuroba on the left would weaken. The scenario was to have the seniors play the role of setting the stage, so to speak, in order to have him hit the ball unmarked and get rid of his awareness that he was bad at it.

“How on earth do you make a request like that to the senpais…You really do have nerves of steel.”

He could only be thankful that he was blessed with understanding seniors.

“You’re decisive enough on your own. We’ll do the cheap tricks to get you to hit the ball. If you’re a senpai who’s so obsessed with stuff like keeping face as a senior (1) and ruin our chances of winning, then we don’t need you anyways.”

Haijima declared unabashedly while his gaze was fixed on the opponent’s court. But then he suddenly pouted and added something else in a whisper.

“…That’s why, I’m taking you. To the Spring Tournament.”

Although he didn’t say the word “senpais,” Kuroba supplemented that word in his mind. He A laugh escaped from his lips as he realized that in his own way, Haijima felt indebted to Oda and the others.

“You talk like you alone are taking them, but…we’re the ones taking them, aren’t we?”

Haijima blinked in surprise. Kuroba was embarrassed after he said that aloud, having gotten carried away and talked big. He was afraid that he would be cut down again with “you’re a hundred years too early to say that.” However,

“…Yeah.”

Haijima’s face softened, and he nodded.

Now he understood—everything was in the court. Enemies, and friends as well. He wondered if Yorimichi was watching. However, he didn’t feel like looking up at the stands, when normally he would be curious and try to find him. His feet were properly rooted here, not on the second floor of the stands.

He didn’t look for him, but he just wanted Yorimichi to see this. There was nothing to be shrink from. There was nothing to be embarrassed of. He wanted to puff up his chest and be proud of that this was the volleyball he was so passionate about right now. Above all, he wanted him to see this team.

He saw Haijima touching the taping on his fingers again. He lightly shook his head and fixed his gaze forward with a focussed expression on his face. He didn’t seem to be in bad shape, so Kuroba didn’t mind it at the time.

“Do it with the intention of taking it and hitting it yourself.”

He was told this by Hokao and Uchimura as they went along with his receiving practice during the training camp, to the point he had calluses on his ears. Don’t just sit back and watch the ball after a serve receive, run with the intention of snatching away the set to yourself. The left-side hitters have always been an easy target for the serve. That was why their receiving abilities, not just their spiking abilities, were the key to offense. No matter how good Haijima was, if his serve receive was up to par, there was no way to build an offense.

Even though he knew that, when he received the ball, he felt like he had done his job and stopped moving, but thanks to being told that over and over and repeating it in practice, it was hammered into his body. There was meaning in being taken out of offensive practice during training camp and forced to do only receiving practice.

He was hit by a serve in his bad form and fell on his butt, but he immediately jumped up and ran. Although the receive went off course, Haijima had already entered the ball’s drop point due to his outstanding reading speed and mobility. This was what he meant when he said that with Haijima, a B-pass became an A-pass. An A-pass was a good receive that allowed the setter to return to a position that didn’t move in from in front of the net for the fastest combination attack, but a B-pass was a worse receive than that. When it came to the C-pass, the setter might not be able to get it, and if that happened, the sign could not be used and another player would have to do a high set. (2) However, Haijima didn’t abandon the sign, even if it was a C-pass, and chased the ball himself to force a combination attack.

Haijima alone had the final say on who got to hit among the four attackers on the court, including Kuroba. He judged the situation instantly based on the reactions of the opposing blockers and receivers, and in Haijima’s case, rather than simply striking where they were undermanned, he chose the option that would allow him to harass his opponents the most and leave an impact on the rest of the play.

He noticed that he was being marked by a blocker, but Kuroba sent the desire of being given the ball to Haijima. Until now, all he thought about was escaping from the blocks. But now he was ready to smash one in.

Haijima touched his taping again for an instant and made a gesture of shaking his head. ——What, now?

Haijima opened his eyes wide at the ball that was approaching right in front of his face, and he turned away as though to run from it and knocked it down with his hand.

Beep——.

The whistle sounded, and there were cheers from the opposing court for their good luck. Meanwhile, on Seiin’s court, all the attackers who ended up with half-baked jumps looked at Haijima with astonishment. That was natural for anyone who knew the man named Haijima. It wouldn’t have mattered if it was someone else’s basic mistake, but Haijima——?

The ball rolled fruitlessly to the center of their court. It was unbelievable, but Haijima, who was staring at it with a look that was even filled with hatred, and then as though he had returned to himself, immediately put out his hand and flicked it out of the court.

***

“Thank you for your hard work!”

All the members of the team formed a line facing the advisor and spoke in unison. Oda stepped out of the line and faced his team members.

“Now, we’re going back to school temporarily…”

“Aah…Oda, there’s always tomorrow, so let’s just break up here. Some people live closer to here than school.”

The old advisor interjected with a slippery voice like half of his body was already submerged in the Sanzu River (3), causing Oda’s temple to twitch. “I think you’re the only one whose home is close, sir, but…” Although he bitterly grumbled that, Oda sighed in defeat and turned back to the members.

“We’ll break up here for now. The Nanafu group will stay together and return to the school. Everyone else can go back home. Tomorrow, we’ll meet in the clubroom at six-thirty. Alright, don’t get into any accidents or anything like that, and think of it as a match until you get home, don’t lose focus.”

“What is this, a field trip?”

Aoki let out a strained laugh and quipped, taking over the conversation from Oda, who looked embarrassed.

“The Monshiro group is going far away, so ask your parents to give you a ride. I’ll put the ball case in the old teacher’s car, but Kuroba and Haijima, can you bring the cooler box back home and then bring it back tomorrow?”

“Oh, yes, we can both bring it tomorrow. Our houses are close.”

The two third-years gave Kuroba a casual look as he quickly jumped to attention and answered. Guessing that they wanted him to take a look at how Haijima was doing, he stealthily glanced at his profile. Haijima, who had quickly returned to his glasses from contacts, was looking ahead with a reddened face for some reason. Is he tired…? However, he couldn’t tell the difference clearly because he always looked like he wasn’t thinking about anything, surprisingly, except when his club activity switch was on.

That was the only time Haijima made a basic mistake, and after that it had no effect on him at all, and he went on as usual—or rather, his level of “usual” was unusual—until the end, but Seiin High School continued the play and won the two games of the day. They would advance to the semifinals tomorrow, the final day.

So, they have come to the same place as the prefecturals a year ago.

It was as though they were advancing by tracing the road from a year ago. He was confident that they would break the semifinals this year for sure, and he was plenty motivated, but—a bad feeling that there was an unexpected trap lying in wait for them just like a year ago, continued to hover in a corner of his mind.

They met with the parents who came to support them from Monshiro in the gym’s parking lot. Kuroba’s mother, Kanno’s mother, Haijima’s grandmother, and Itoko and Yorimichi were there. The Kannos’ car and the Kurobas’ car (Haijima’s grandmother seemed to have ridden in the Kurobas’ car) were there, as well as a light pickup truck. The truck belonged to the relative who transported provisions to the training camp. The back of the truck was still littered with vegetable scraps. It seemed that this was the car Yorimichi borrowed to “just drive around in town” in.

Thank you so much for all your help, Kanno’s mother thanked Kuroba’s mother reverently. He wondered about the parent of a second-year being deferential to the parent of a first-year.

It seemed that Itoko had made plans to join with her school friends from now. An amusement building called Suzumu Play-One was built near Itoko’s Suzumu City high school recently, and it had a karaoke place, a bowling alley, and an arcade. It had become a hangout for high schoolers with free time (by the way, Karaoke Box Monshiro was finally demolished at the start of this year). No wonder she made her hair into a bun-looking thing on the top of her head, wore a sleeveless dress-looking thing, and carried a summer vacation-like basket bag-looking thing. He, on the other hand, had just changed out of his uniform and was wearing a T-shirt that was already drenched with sweat, carrying an enamel bag that dug into his shoulders and even a cooler box. He didn’t mind it though, because he wanted to do it.

“Good job out there, Yuni. You were pretty cool.”

“What do you mean, ‘pretty’ cool? Say I’m ‘super’ cool, onion head.”

As he reflexively shot back after being praised with a smile, Itoko took the initiative to load Kuroba’s luggage into the back of the truck, so he took it back and threw it up himself.

“You still have the semifinals and finals. You’ll get carried away if I praise you. Yorimichi? Don’t you have anything to say to Yuni?”

Itoko’s voice turned a bit angry and she slapped the driver’s door. “Aah?” Yorimichi, who was sticking his face into the air conditioner at the driver’s seat, rolled down the window with an annoyed look on his face.

“Ah, um…how was it…?”

“Doesn’t matter how it was. It was pretty cool at the venue. I thought it would be hot, so it took a while for me to wanna go there.”

He sloppily leaned against the door with one arm out the window. Even though he didn’t exercise, his arms were muscular, and they were a size thicker than Kuroba’s who recently started to work hard at muscle training. His tank top was tightly stretched over his thick chest. He could try doing some kind of sport even now…

“Ugh, don’t dodge the question and tell him. You wanted to see a volleyball game, didn’t you?”

Itoko said, putting her hands on her hips with an exasperated look on her face.

“Huh!? Yori-chan, you’re interested in volleyball!?”

“No way.”

He had widened his eyes and unintentionally said that with hope in his voice, but got flatly rejected on the spot.

“I just wanted to see what you’re so into. You probably found something there you haven’t told me about…Well, it looks like you’ll be keeping at it for a long time, so work hard at that.”

“Geez, just be honest!”

Yorimichi withdrew his head from out the window, and Itoko got angry. But for Kuroba, it was more than enough. Those were Yorimichi-like words of support. Come to think of it, he wasn’t drinking while watching the game today. He didn’t come here to make fun of him. He had him understand that he was doing this seriously. He didn’t know what he was shrivelling from. He knew that Yorimichi wouldn’t laugh for no reason at the things people cherished.

That’s why I like Yorimichi…

“…Mm. I will work hard.”

He answered bashfully. Yorimichi was already pretending not to hear and fiddled with the car radio. “There’s only enka,” he complained.

At that moment, he heard a hoarse scream and something being struck.

He turned around and saw Haijima and his grandmother next to the Kurobas’ car. There was more than a head of difference in height between the grandmother and Haijima, which made her look extremely weak. A dark red handbag had fallen at her feet, and her wallet and other small items were scattered across the asphalt.

“Why are you using that without asking me…?”

Haijima said with a trace of anger in his voice. His grandmother’s small frame shrunk. “W-Why are you getting so angry all of a sudden? I thought you didn’t want it anymore since you put it away in the closet…”

“Haijima? What are you doing to your own grandma?”

Confused, Kuroba rushed over as he reproached him. When he crouched down and was about to pick up the scattered items, the old woman also hurriedly crouched down and ran her wrinkled little hands over the asphalt to gather the small items, saying, “Aah, young master, there is no need to do this.”

He was about to pick up the handbag when his hand stopped.

A dark red schoolbag… This is…

“Don’t touch it.”

Haijima’s hand snatched the bag from over Kuroba’s head.

On his knees and speechless, he looked up at Haijima. The summer evening sunlight, which was still beating down on them, illuminated Haijima from behind so he couldn’t see his expression, but he could clearly see that the bag he was gripping had…that Tokyo middle school’s emblem—the one Kuroba didn’t know—embroidered on it.

Why…? Along with that question, he felt anger.

You said you weren’t going back, didn’t you? So why do you still treasure that thing…?

I wonder if I’m hurting right now.

“I ain’t going back” …Even though I believed in those words I heard at the training camp, I might be feeling betrayed.

***

He smacked the top of his alarm clock that ringing shrilly next to his pillow with the palm of his hand as though he was spiking with all his might. He sluggishly peeled his face away from his pillow and looked at the digital display of his now-silent clock. It was 5:05 in the morning.

“Mmm…Gotta get up…”

He had to take the first train in order to get to the clubroom by the 6:30 meeting time. He had to jump over one city to go to school, so a roundtrip to school took up quite a lot of time.

“…Five more minutes…”

His consciousness sank the moment he plopped his head down on the pillow again.

The alarm rang again. He half-consciously hit the clock that was still under his hand, but it didn’t stop no matter how many times he hit it. “…Nn?” It wasn’t the alarm. It was another sound. “…My phone…?” Groaning like a zombie that had risen from the grave, he reluctantly crawled out from his futon.

The Kuroba main house was a purely Japanese home, and Kuroba’s room was also a Japanese-style room with tatami mats and a futon. He could hear muffled ringing from the enamel bag he had thrown to the foot of his futon. Now he remembered that he forgot to charge it yesterday before falling asleep.

“Hup.”

As he was waking up, he raised his upper body vigorously in the manner of a push-up. Midway through, a shiver of pain ran up his back. “Aaagh,” he groaned and ended up curling his back. He crawled over to his bag with his hand behind his back. It was a different kind of pain from the muscle pain he got after practices and games, and his body ached all over, not just his back. His cheekbone was still throbbing with pain.

He thought that if it gave up halfway and stopped ringing, he wouldn’t have to answer it. But the ringing spitefully continued until he reached into his bag and fumbled for his phone.

“Oda-senpai? You’re an early riser.”

When he saw the caller’s name on the display, he thought of Oda’s face, full of enthusiasm like he had been running in the morning. Oda’s house was close to the school, so he shouldn’t have to get up as early as Kuroba.

“Fwah, g’morning…”

“Kuroba, come to school immediately!”

He heard Oda’s voice, refreshing and clear right in the morning, just like the image in his head.

“…? I’m going there now, but…”

“Come directly to the staff room, not the club room. Depending on your answer, we…will have to withdraw from today’s game.”

The sleepiness that had been coiled about his head dissipated at once.

“…What?”

He could only hear Oda’s heavy groans from the speaker.

He thought it was déjà vu from a year ago. No, he really wished it was just déjà vu.

We’re withdrawing…? From the semifinals?

——Again?

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[seiin-translations]

2.43 S1 Chapter 3.3 - The Dog’s View and the Giraffe’s View

3. OLD BUDDY

Aoki’s 1000 IQ mind is hinted at here

Also what are the main tags for this fandom???

Translation Notes

1. Pun on Oda’s name. Here the “Shin” is 神 (god) instead of “伸” which is the first kanji in Oda’s first name

2. Okuma’s name 大隈 shares the same pronunciation as 大熊 which means “big bear”

3. The 伸 in Oda’s first name means “lengthen” or “extend”

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“Odaaaa! I’m beggin’ you, play futsal. You can definitely be in the amateur bracket on a pro level.”

“Odacchi! Why aren’t you doing softball? You’re even more reliable than our regular shortstop. Oh, don’t be so modest. I’m not kissing your ass. What’s the point of that?”

“Oda, why volleyball of all things?”

“You don’t have to play volleyball.”

“Oda! No, Oda-Shin!” (1)

The seasons changed, and it was now midway through June. In this rainy season, Oda shook off the group of male scouts who were wearing mud-stained uniforms and jerseys and hot on his heels, and took refuge in the student council room. It sounded good for those who called it a June tradition, but for those who were targeted, it was just a dirty thing.

“I’m comin’ in. Let me hide out a little here.”

Aoki, who seemed too tall for his own good as he tucked himself on a folding chair and stared at documents, looked up. The sign reading “Vice President” stood on one corner of the desks arranged in a square.

“Oh. I can hear it from all the way in here. You’re a popular guy.”

“The member list has already been turned in. I don’t know if they’ve been told by now. Even if they didn’t, I don’t feel like doing anything other than volleyball.”

“Well, no need to be so hard on them. You should be happy that they value you so much.”

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it…I only dabbled with soccer and baseball in gym. I seriously don’t know why people are giving me so much credit.”

“Is that different from not being aware of your own ability?”

“If it’s volleyball ability, I’m more than aware of it.”

Hearing such a servile and submissive line from himself, he immediately regretted it right after he said it. Aoki was silent for only a moment while looking down at the papers.

“…Did you see who will be participating in volleyball? A whole bunch of stuff came out just now.”

He changed the topic, acting as though he hadn’t heard anything. I’m never a match for how he reads too much into things.

He pulled up the chair that was diagonally across from Aoki, the corner of the desk between them. In addition to him, there were only a pair of underclassmen officers sitting in the corner working on something.

The main event organized by the student council in the first semester, the Seiin Ballgame Festival, was coming in two weeks. The boys’ volleyball team were futilely eliminated from prefecturals at the beginning of the month, and the road to Inter-High and Nationals had just closed. Another one of the three major national championships was the “Spring Inter-High Volleyball” in January. The ballgame tournament during this period was by all rights nothing but a nuisance to their club activities, because they had to restart immediately to prepare for the prefectural qualifiers in September, right after summer vacation.

But for this year, he felt that this cushion was appreciated. He was practicing as usual, but he couldn’t quite switch gears. The handout distributed in class right after the prefecturals was undoubtedly one of the reasons. He had stuffed that handout with the title “Second Future Course Survey” into his locker without filling it in.

“It’s gonna be interesting this year.”

Aoki was handed a clipboard that holding several sheets of paper. It was the list of names for each event in the ballgame tournament.

“The ones with the double circles are pros.”

“Pro” of course didn’t mean pro athletes. It was the internal term for this ballgame tournament that referred to those who belonged to the corresponding sports club for each event. The maximum number of pros was set at three people for each team. The antonym of pro was “amateur”, and those who had experience in middle school or dropped out of their clubs were sometimes called “semi-pro.”

Classes A to F were divided vertically through the grades for a total of six teams. A supreme general would be nominated from the third-years of each team, and they would compete for overall victory with the total points from all the events. Since the captains of the main sports clubs were luckily scattered across the different classes, it was an event that got somewhat heated with the power struggles between the sports clubs.

He viewed the boys’ volleyball participant roster in order, starting from Team A. Team A didn’t have the double circle—for softball and futsal, where there were many qualifying members, there was competition among the members for the pro slots, but sadly for their division, they actually fell short of the number of slots.

“Oh, B’s got a killing.”

Team B also didn’t have any double circles, but when he looked at the remarks column, he saw that there was an awful lot of rugby team members. “So, are these remarks self-reported?” “No, the executive committee collected it, but the tally was a bit late.” “You’re spending a lot of energy on unnecessary things.” “You think so? Information gathering is fun, though.” In the remarks column, in addition to the current club the student belonged to, information such as their club activities in middle school and outstanding results in the school physical fitness test were added. If one were to see this list without knowing Aoki’s character, one might be a bit horrified.

The rugby player called Okuma of Class 2-B had a face and name that matched (he thought it was “大熊” (2), but he guessed those were the actual characters). At the level of a ballgame tournament, just having a big guy in front of the net was effective to some extent. Three rugby players over 180 centimeters in the front row might be a rather formidable opponent.

Next, Team C had three double circles in a row—3-C’s Aoki Misao ◎, 2-C’s Kanno Akito ◎, and 1-C’s Kuroba Yuni ◎.

“…What’s with this bias? Isn’t this all-star team against the rules?”

“It’s no more than three. That’s not against the rules.” Aoki said carefreely. “It’s just a coincidence that there are three people in C class this year. I didn’t manipulate that, so I don’t need you complaining about it.” Isn’t that an implicit admission that he manipulated in the other cases?

“Well, worst case scenario, I might drop out. I also got work on the management side. I’ll leave it to Kanno to cover for Kuroba.”

“Don’t drop out. It’ll be boring without you.”

When Oda said that without missing a beat, Aoki looked at him with slightly widened eyes. That unconcerned attitude of Aoki’s always irritated him for an instant.

“It’ll be interesting…We’ll definitely beat you.”

He declared provocatively. Aoki smirked from the corner of his mouth.

“We’re not going to go easy on you, you know?”

“Of course. If you hold back even just a little bit, then I’m never going to talk to you again.”

“Aw, come on, give me a break.”

Aoki was 193 centimeters, Kanno was 181 centimeters, and Kuroba was 184 centimeters. Oda remembered everyone’s numbers, which were filled out on the entry sheet for the most recent tournament. Aoki, who would undoubtedly be the tallest of all the participants in the boys’ volleyball division, was the center, and Kanno, who had a good balance between offense and defense, was placed on the side. Kuroba was still quite inconsistent and capricious, but as long as he went with the flow, he would display outstanding offensive power.

The ballgame tournament was like an escape for his feelings, and he was more of a passive participant than anything, but…he was getting a bit excited. For a small club with eight members, they could do a four-to-four minigame at most, not being able to do a proper intragroup game. Even if it included amateurs, under the rules of a proper six-person system, they can compete with that lineup. There was no other opportunity like this.

The problem was the strength of his own team, but if they had someone who they could use even just a little…he skimmed past the next two teams, D and E, to finally reach the F team he would be leading. At the top of the list was Oda Shinichiro ◎ of 3-F. About four people were chosen from each grade below, but there were no double circles besides Oda. Compared to Team C, he couldn’t help but feel discouraged.

“…Haijima?”

That name was there.

Haijima Kimichika of 1-F. He of course didn’t have the double circle.

When he looked up from the list, Aoki nodded as if to say you finally noticed that? It seemed that this was the climax of “it’s gonna be interesting.”

“I didn’t think he’d choose volleyball. Wonder what brought that on. He’s been running away from you ever since that thing happened.”

“He’s not running away from me, and wasn’t that thing because of your assault?”

“I told you, it wasn’t assault. I was just telling him to be a little more careful about how he should speak to third-years.”

“With your foot?”

“Well, the foot was unintentional.” What’s the definition of assault where you do that and don’t call it assault?

After the incident in early April of the new school year in which Aoki kicked Haijima’s butt hard, every time they happened to catch sight of each other in school, Haijima was the one who acted casual…From our point of view, it’s blatantly obvious that he’s changing his route and escaping. He was big, so he could be recognized immediately even from a distance, but he wondered if he didn’t know he stood out. If you’re just unconsciously enjoying the benefits of that height, give it to me…He thought. Even here, his desire as a captain to have Haijima on the team and his personal feelings of jealousy mixed with each other.

The first practice day for Team F was next Monday. After one week of team practice, the ballgame tournament would arrive.

“I wonder if he’s gonna come.” What kind of face would he have if he came?

“Well, he might be the type who shamelessly comes with a face that says ‘My friend signed me up for an audition without asking me.’”

“Oi oi, that’s harsh…”

Contrary to his gentle appearance, Aoki had quite a sharp tongue. According to him, he had a principle of not holding back what he wanted to say and not doing what he didn’t want to do. But if you asked Oda, there was a part of him that thought, Is that so? Are you saying everything you wanted to say to me?

“…Hey, you already handed that in, right? The future course thing…”

Even if he thought it was better to think about it later, it got stuck in his head for a long time. There were invisible pebbles strewn about. It felt like those pebbles were plugging up the holes where energy was spouting out from.

Since it was the second future course survey, there was a first one as well, but at that time there was only the choices of literature or science and national or private schools. However, this time there was a column for writing your specific university of choice. For the time being, since this was a university prep school, there was hardly anyone who chose to find a job or go to a vocational school.

There was a pause, as though the sudden topic had caught him off guard, but Aoki’s tone didn’t change when he opened his mouth.

“Oh, not yet. I haven’t decided yet.”

It was a shock to be lied to. You were the one who already handed it in. I asked while knowing it, actually.

However, all he said was, “…I see. Well, you’ve still got time.”

The rumor had also spread to Oda’s class. First choice, the Kyoto University’s faculty of law—Apparently, there was someone who peeked at Aoki’s handout that had been handed into the staff room. Who would have thought it’d be Kyodai? He was shocked that he was that smart. No, I knew that, but still.

It was at that time that he had the belated realization that until that point, he almost never talked to Aoki about anything other than volleyball. We’ve seen each other almost every day for more than two years, so isn’t that pretty weird? In the first place, volleyball was the only thing they had in common. Except volleyball, their interests didn’t intersect at all (to be precise, volleyball was Oda’s only interest). Oda only ever brought up volleyball and never asked Aoki what his interests were, or what he wanted to do in the future.

I mean, Kyodai? Supposing that we won the prefectural representative rights for Spring Inter-High, you couldn’t retire until the main tournament in January. Even if you studied for the entrance exam in your spare time while you’re not doing club activities, will you be able to get into law school at Kyoto University? ——He only thought those things and couldn’t say it aloud. Because, what would he do if Aoki announced that he was going to prioritize entrance exams and retire? He probably couldn’t see him out quietly. He felt like imposing his own convenience and telling that he couldn’t retire because they barely had enough members. No, I’m sure Aoki will prolong his retirement as long as he can and stick with me. But, that only increased his debt to him.

Hey, how do you feel about being stuck with me? If you take away volleyball, then I’m just a boring person.

“Hey, do you…enjoy being with me?”

“What?”

He sounded half-crazy, as expected. He felt like it was an extremely sissy question and wanted to crawl into a hole.

“Ah…what’s wrong, Shin? You’re acting weird.”

“Weird?”

Apparently, it was weird for him to worry about anything other than volleyball. Even he himself thought so. As far as his path after high school was concerned, he could cite a number of intercollegiate powerhouse universities he was interested in as long as it was volleyball-related. But he was at a loss as soon as he stepped away from volleyball. He wondered if he lost in the Spring Inter-High qualifiers and retired, he would finally have to find something else he wanted to do, and though it was impossible to assume that they would fail the qualifiers, the idle thought flashed across his mind. Though he still only wanted to think about volleyball right now, his mind was too distracted to focus on one thing. If anything, the time when he couldn’t only think about volleyball has arrived.

Bzzzz, the seat of the chair beneath Aoki started vibrating. “Mm, ‘scuse me,” Aoki put his hand on his behind. His hand that was as long and thin as his physique operated his phone.

“Geh, a summons text from the president. I gotta go.”

“I’m going back too. Sorry to bother you when you’re so busy.”

“Yeah, but our conversation—”

“No, no, it’s done.”

He didn’t think he was convinced, but Aoki didn’t try to dig in any further, putting his phone away and got up as Oda stood. When they stood in a line, Aoki’s shoulders would be what was in his line of sight. It was somewhat easier when they were looking at each other, but the fact that he had become accustomed to the gap in their lines of sight made him feel mixed feelings in its own way.

Oda was 163 centimeters tall. The difference in height between him and Aoki was exactly twenty centimeters. The gap hadn’t been filled at all since he entered high school. He sometimes hated that his parents really named him Shinichiro. (3)

163 centimeters was barely taller than the average height of a typical girl, and while having a small build meant having a small build, he wasn’t extremely small. In other sports, there were plenty of male athletes in the 160 centimeter range who flourished in international competitions.

But for a volleyball player, and furthermore for an attacker, it was a fatally insufficient height. Even if he could manage it in high school, it would never work beyond university. He hadn’t told anyone yet that he was going to play volleyball until high school, but he was seeing the end in himself.

Why volleyball of all things?

But…there’s only one reason for that, isn’t there?

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