Chapter 28: Meeting the Seniors

After the match ended, the contrast between the two schools was striking. Over on JAL’s side, the atmosphere was like a funeral; on Shiratorizawa’s side, things remained calm and steady, exactly as usual.

Once everyone left the court, a crowd of seniors surged over, and the coaches from both teams switched sides to give their post-match evaluations.

Ryosuke’s trio instinctively followed behind Ushijima and Shirabu, listening in as the seniors chatted.

Ryosuke stayed silent, subtly signaling Goshiki with his eyes to go start a conversation. Goshiki’s face flushed bright red. Of course he understood what Ryosuke meant, but walking up like that—and asking someone directly about their techniques—felt incredibly rude to him.

“Ryūgetsu-senpai.”

A deep voice spoke up. Ushijima addressed the vice attacker wearing the number seven jersey without changing his expression.

The vice attacker named Ryūgetsu walked over happily when he heard that.
“Yo, Ushijima. Long time no see.”

“Long time no see,” Ushijima replied calmly. He placed a hand on Goshiki’s shoulder. “This is our team’s new vice attacker, Tsutomu Goshiki. First year. He really admires you.”

Then he turned to the completely frozen Goshiki.
“This is a senior from Shiratorizawa University Division—Tsuji Ryūgetsu-senpai.”

Meeting Ushijima’s gaze, Goshiki understood his meaning in an instant. His eyes sharpened, practically sparking with determination.

“Ryūgetsu-senpai! Your plays were amazing! That move where you dodged the block-out was so cool! Could you teach me?”

His tone was sincere, his eyes shining brightly.

Who could possibly refuse such a straightforward, enthusiastic puppy? Ryūgetsu certainly couldn’t.

He laughed heartily and slung an arm around Goshiki’s shoulders like they were already close.
“I think it’s cool too. Come on, come on—I’ll buy you a soda. After we drink it, I’ll teach you.”

Shirabu stood off to the side, his expression twisted as he stared at Goshiki’s retreating back, already losing his mind internally.

Ushijima-senpai… actually introduced Goshiki to a senior?!
Damn it! Ushijima-senpai has never been this considerate to me!

Jealousy really did warp a person beyond recognition.

Nearby, Yunohama saw all of their inner turmoil clearly. His expression grew complicated, his eyebrows knitting together. Honestly, there really weren’t many normal people in the volleyball club.

Seeing his junior looking a bit off, Ushijima asked with concern,
“What’s wrong, Yunohama? Are you feeling unwell?”

The moment he said that, Yunohama felt a sharp glare shoot over from Shirabu. He shrank inwardly—these hardcore fans were terrifying.

He was just thinking of reminding Ryosuke not to casually talk to Ushijima-senpai when he turned around—only to realize Ryosuke had disappeared somewhere.

He was left standing there alone, looking completely out of place…

Yunohama felt miserable inside, but he said nothing.

Ryosuke had quietly slipped away the moment Yunohama opened his mouth. Even though Ryosuke usually looked a bit spacey, when it came to sensing danger, he was anything but dull.

He was planning to play vice attacker in the future—he absolutely couldn’t afford to offend Shirabu-senpai. What if Shirabu stopped setting to him?

Thinking that, Ryosuke wandered over to Coach Washijō’s side. Washijō glanced at Ryosuke joining him but didn’t say anything.

He continued criticizing JAL’s team.
“Look at the state you’re all in! Have you gotten lazy, or arrogant? You got shut out, and some of you still have the nerve to laugh?!”

One substitute at the back of the line who had been quietly grinning was immediately spotted by Washijō’s sharp eyes. Everyone around him turned to look at him at once.

The substitute’s face changed instantly. Guiltily, he shut his mouth.

“This isn’t the past anymore. Put away that ridiculous pride of yours. Go back and think hard about why you lost.”

Since they weren’t his own players, Washijō didn’t press the criticism any further.

Ryosuke felt a subtle sense of smug satisfaction rise up inside him. See? Our coach didn’t even scold you. Not scolding you doesn’t mean he thinks highly of you—nyah.

Luckily, Washijō didn’t know what he was thinking, or Ryosuke would’ve earned a few solid flicks to the forehead.

After the discussion wrapped up, Ryosuke secretly watched JAL’s libero. To be honest, he wasn’t all that enthusiastic about playing vice attacker anymore.

Every time he ran into a really strong libero, he couldn’t help wanting to learn from them.

JAL’s libero, Suzuki Tatsu, had long since noticed this sneaky underclassman with the pretty face. Amused, he watched Ryosuke hesitate, clearly wanting to approach but unable to make up his mind.

Suzuki took the initiative and walked over.
“Hi. I’m Suzuki Tatsu. You were the one watching me the whole match, right?”

His voice was gentle and calm. Ryosuke’s face reddened despite himself, and Suzuki paused for a moment when he noticed the reaction.

Ryosuke coughed twice to clear his throat.
“My name is Ryosuke Hanyu. I’m a first-year at Shiratorizawa. Your receives were amazing, senpai.”

That wasn’t flattery—it was exactly how Ryosuke felt. He continued,
“And that save on the net ball just now was incredible. How did you manage to get to it?”

Suzuki froze briefly, then laughed awkwardly.
“Hahaha. Our vice attacker isn’t very stable mentally. Whenever he panics, he makes mistakes. If you carefully observe your teammates—
understand each person’s condition and physical abilities—you can usually predict how their shots will turn out.”

Those words opened up an entirely new perspective for Ryosuke. Before, when he was receiving, he’d instinctively focused only on the ball, partly because he hadn’t really had reliable teammates to account for.

After joining Shiratorizawa, he naturally assumed that as long as he got every ball up, that was enough. Shiratorizawa’s players also believed that as long as each individual was strong, the team as a whole would be strong.

Even Yamagata had never explained things to him this way. Because of his playstyle, Ryosuke had quietly been categorized within Shiratorizawa as one of the “strong” or “talented” players.

After fully understanding Suzuki’s words, Ryosuke thanked him sincerely.
“Thank you for teaching me this, Suzuki-senpai. Can we exchange LINE? That way I can ask you for advice next time.”

Suzuki agreed without hesitation. A motivated, polite underclassman was always welcome.

After exchanging LINE contacts, Ryosuke wandered back to find Yunohama and Goshiki, planning to say goodbye. He wouldn’t be heading out with his friends afterward.