Chapter 26: The Match (2)

After watching for more than ten minutes, the gap between the two teams gradually began to close. Shiratorizawa was still in the lead at 18–15, and they had already switched sides once.

For Ryosuke and his trio, this match was incredibly valuable to watch. The players’ individual traits and techniques had a strong impact on the game, clearly showing the difference in overall strength between university teams and high school teams.

On the court, Shiratorizawa’s number two stepped up to serve. Ryosuke noticed immediately how nasty this server was—constantly targeting the very edges of the court and pressing the line with his serves. He had already scored at least four or five points on his own.

The ball was spiked back from the other side, landing a bit away from the backcourt. The libero rushed over in a panic and took it overhead. Ryosuke saw his face twist in pain.

Overhand receives really hurt, okay? Especially against a powerful spike serve. There were truly plenty of hidden monsters in the university division.

The setter quickly covered for the shaky first pass with precise positioning.

From the back right, a player started his approach from the three-meter line, running a sharp diagonal. It looked like a standard cross-court attack.

The ball reached his hand—but unexpectedly, the number seven twisted his body midair at an extreme angle.

And hammered it straight down the line.

Goshiki and Ryosuke both pressed against the railing with starry eyes.

“Ryosuke! Did you see that?! Just now—whoosh, bang—and it scored! That was so cool!”

Ryosuke nodded enthusiastically, eyes sparkling. “His hang time was insane. At least 0.7 seconds. That was seriously amazing!”

Yunohama clicked his tongue, looking at the two of them as if they were hopeless.

“Even though JAL has already figured out Shiratorizawa’s overall scoring system, JAL’s own strength distribution isn’t balanced. Only one or two players really stand out—the rest are pretty average.”

“Yeah. I’ve got a feeling JAL might get shut out.”

Goshiki scratched his cheek hesitantly. “No way. At least 2–1, right? JAL’s still pretty strong.”

Yunohama snorted, then slapped his hands onto Goshiki and Ryosuke’s heads and rubbed hard. “Just keep watching.”

“Stop rubbing my head! You’re going to rub me bald!” Ryosuke complained loudly.

While they were struggling, the first set came to an end. Shiratorizawa took it 25–23.

Both teams returned briefly to their benches to rest.

Ryosuke waved at Goshiki and Yunohama. “Let’s go down and say hi.”

As he spoke, they headed down from the stands, with Goshiki charging ahead.

Yunohama asked Ryosuke in confusion, “Why’s he running so fast?”

“Obviously because he saw Ushijima-senpai,” Ryosuke said with a laugh, quickening his pace to follow.

“Goshiki, wait for me!”

“Hey, Ryosuke, hurry up!”

Yunohama genuinely couldn’t understand why these two were acting like elementary school kids who had to go to the bathroom together.

Over by Coach Washijō, several seniors from Shiratorizawa’s university team were gathered.

Ryosuke and Goshiki sneaked glances at the seniors from behind.

The tall, broad-shouldered guy in the number two jersey looked a bit simple-minded—definitely the same type as Ushijima-senpai.

The senior with the absurd hang time was there too. For a volleyball player, he wasn’t even that tall. Had Coach Washijō really trained him before?

Yunohama quietly observed from behind the two of them.

Coach Washijō had already known they were here the moment the three brats snuck into the stands. Not seeing them right away, he scanned the area—and then spotted the three of them peeking from a corner. His mouth twitched. What kind of behavior was this? They weren’t thieves—why were they sneaking around like that?

He barked loudly, “What are you doing? Get over here!”

The three who lived under Coach Washijō’s rule all shuddered at once.

“Yes!!”

The elderly man standing beside Washijō chuckled. “Ah, looks like you still train the kids the same way as always.”

Goshiki immediately darted over to Ushijima’s side and, in the process, picked a silent fight with Shirabu using nothing but his eyes. Yunohama stood beside Goshiki, staring straight ahead and pretending not to notice the wordless clash.

And that was exactly why Goshiki was so annoying. Just moments ago, Yunohama had watched him provoke Shirabu again and again. If the coach hadn’t been there, Shirabu would definitely have snapped back.

“What brings you here?” Coach Washijō asked, his tone easing slightly when he saw Ryosuke wearing the clothes he’d bought for him.

Ryosuke snuggled up close to him. “I originally came to play, but then I heard there was a match, so we decided to watch instead.”

As they spoke, the second set had already begun. The people who had just been chatting wiped the sweat from their faces and headed back onto the court.

Coach Washijō grabbed Ryosuke and introduced him to the old man beside him. “This is Ryosuke Hanyu, my grandson. And this is Kiuchi Kōzō, the coach of Shiratorizawa’s university team.”

Ryosuke straightened his back. “Hello, Coach!”

Kiuchi laughed loudly. “You’ve got good energy, kid.”

Coach Washijō then pointed to another middle-aged man. “This is Yoshihara Kōshi, JAL’s coach.”

Ryosuke greeted him properly as well.

Coach Washijō continued chatting with Kōshi, all while keeping one eye on what Ryosuke was doing.

Ryosuke wandered back to Goshiki and Yunohama, and the three of them watched the match together with Ushijima and the others.

Noticing Washijō’s gaze, Ryosuke looked up and smiled at him.

Seeing that Ryosuke was still there, Coach Washijō didn’t say anything. Kiuchi watched the interaction between grandfather and grandson with a gentle smile.

Who would’ve thought someone as rigid as Washijō had a side like this—treating his grandson like a little kid, yet still worrying when he wasn’t right in front of him.

Only five or six minutes into the set, the score was tied at 3–3.

Goshiki stroked his chin. “Ryosuke, you were wrong.”

Ryosuke tilted his head in confusion.

“JAL isn’t getting shut out. This set started off pretty smoothly.”

“Yeah… this might be their only chance to turn things around,” Ryosuke said slowly.

As he spoke, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Goshiki was gone. He turned and saw Goshiki squatting on the floor watching the match, hugging his legs and trying to curl himself into a ball.

“Goshiki, why are you squatting while watching?” Ryosuke asked, baffled.

Goshiki replied seriously, “It feels more comfortable like this. I’m really tired right now.”

After thinking for two seconds, Ryosuke squatted down beside him. Goshiki even kindly shifted over to make space.

Yunohama couldn’t bear to look anymore. He turned his head away, afraid their stupidity might be contagious.

While they were talking, the score climbed to 7–7.

For now, the match was completely even.

It all came down to which team would break this delicate balance first.