Chapter 30: Reon, the Overworked Old Dad

The next day was Monday, which meant Ryosuke was back to suffering through morning runs, morning practice, and afternoon practice.

On his way downstairs, he spotted Coach Washijō asleep on the sofa. Ryosuke walked straight past without sparing him a glance, even copying Washijō’s usual manner.

He let out a heavy snort through his nose. “Hmph.”

Coach Washijō’s face twisted as he lay there. That brat! Not a shred of concern for me!

After being shamelessly tricked by the awful Coach Washijō yesterday, Ryosuke had made up his mind—he wouldn’t talk to him for a whole cycle! This was about as tough and resolute as Ryosuke could possibly get.

Once morning classes ended, Ryosuke headed to the gym with his friends.

They arrived early today, and the upperclassmen hadn’t shown up yet.

Ryosuke and the others automatically started setting up the ball carts and the net.

Goshiki was still going on about yesterday. “Next time, let’s go to the haunted house again! I got separated from you guys. Haunted houses are only fun when everyone goes together!”

As Yunohama passed by him, he rolled his eyes hard. “No thanks. You two are way too timid. Going once already shaved years off my life.”

“Oh my, where did you guys go yesterday?” A familiar voice called from the doorway. The three of them turned at the same time.

There stood a flamboyant red-haired senior, arm slung around Ushijima’s neck, practically hanging off him as he greeted them.

“We went to a haunted house yesterday! It was super fun—blah blah blah blah—” and then came Goshiki’s endless barrage of words.

Tendo, struck by the verbal onslaught, stared back with completely blank eyes.

Behind him, Yamagata and Reon strolled over at an unhurried pace and greeted everyone. Even though they’d only been apart for a day or two, there was still plenty to talk about.

Before long, the gym was filled with voices.

As team captain, Ushijima didn’t bother controlling the noise. Instead, he was discussing what to eat later with Shirabu.

“There’s a ramen shop that opened near the school gate—it’s pretty good,” Shirabu said eagerly. He’d been thinking about that place for ages and was determined to drag Ushijima there to try it.

Ushijima nodded solemnly. Volleyball and food alike were not things to be taken lightly.

Strictly speaking, even though Ushijima was the captain, he didn’t really manage the team much. He was captain largely because he was the ace.

In everyday interactions, the one who truly felt like a captain—or even the head of the household—was Reon.

Reon practically exhausted himself worrying about the Shiratorizawa volleyball club. In the beginning, the biggest headache had been Eita Semi.

Now, a brief “interview” with our main subject (Reon).

Coach Washijō disliked Eita Semi’s playing style, but at the same time, the team would be in serious trouble without him. And that’s where the problem started.

As setters, Eita Semi and Shirabu had never really gotten along. Shirabu was nicknamed “Little Pepper” by Shiratorizawa fans—you could imagine how explosive his temper was.

Early on, Eita Semi constantly went out of his way to mess with Shirabu, deliberately imitating the way he spoke or barging in whenever Shirabu was alone with his idol, Ushijima.

Whenever that happened, Shirabu would immediately lose his cool, and the two would start trading barbed remarks, leaving Ushijima stuck in the middle, looking utterly innocent.

Speaking of Ushijima, there was one major spectacle at Shiratorizawa that simply had to be mentioned: Ushijima-senpai’s deep enthusiasm for inviting Aobajosai’s setter over.

With a completely straight face, he would say something infuriating like, “Oikawa, you should come to Shiratorizawa,” successfully provoking a setter who instantly bristled.

Ushijima’s mouth was a weapon of terrifying destructive power. When Kawanishi had just joined the club, he’d already been on the receiving end of it. What started as a joke—“Ah, my serve just now was really—”

Before he could finish, Ushijima drifted past and commented, “It was a bit lacking.”

Kawanishi died on the spot.

At one point, Ushijima was even ranked high on the assassination list of a certain peacock-like, celebrity-level female setter.

His hobby was cooking. He loved researching food, and he also had a bit of a naturally dark streak.

Since the mood was already there, Ushijima’s closest friend, Tendo, had to be mentioned.

Tendo’s presence in the team was completely unique. He had a very nasty sense of humor, but he wasn’t unbearably troublesome. He was, however, the one who most often provoked Coach Washijō into daily shouting matches.

He loved secretly skipping practice and absolutely hated running. At one point, Tendo genuinely believed that coming to Shiratorizawa was pure suffering. He thought that as long as he could score, training shouldn’t be necessary.

But no—damn it—training was still required. How annoying!

And if Tendo decided not to do something, he absolutely wouldn’t. That said, he did enjoy stirring up trouble now and then and bullying the newcomers a bit. Recently, though, that behavior had dropped significantly, which was a very good sign.

Surprisingly, Tendo and Ushijima became close friends. When the two of them were alone, they each talked their own talk—Tendo chattering nonstop while Ushijima simply nodded or shook his head. Somehow, the scene was oddly harmonious.

Then there was Shirabu. Shirabu could be described as the ultimate Ushijima fanatic. He might ignore the coach’s instructions, but as long as it was something Ushijima said, he would carry it out earnestly and without fail.

It was as if Shirabu had been hit by some mysterious Eastern sorcery—nothing could stop his enthusiasm for Ushijima.

On the court, Shirabu was a sacrificial-type setter. He didn’t need personal opinions of his own; all he wanted was to deliver every single ball perfectly into Ushijima’s hands. That alone was his greatest wish.

Unfortunately, the team also had another setter. Once Eita Semi and Shirabu were in the same space, it was like Mars colliding with Earth—utterly uncontrollable.

Yamagata held a relatively higher position within the team. Back when Kawanishi was young and clueless, just after joining, he immediately had a falling-out with Yamagata.

It started when Kawanishi talked behind Yamagata’s back, saying he looked short. No libero in the world could tolerate that. To make things worse, Yamagata happened to walk in just as Kawanishi was sleeping.

That was when the grudge was formed.

The facts proved that Kawanishi was ultimately punished. In every match, he couldn’t receive a single pass from his own libero, which left him incredibly frustrated.

The libero was basically the team’s big boss, and Yamagata’s performance was top-notch. His first passes were always smooth and comfortable—everyone benefited except Kawanishi.

In the end, Kawanishi obediently went to apologize to Yamagata. Otherwise, for all three years of junior high, he wouldn’t have gotten a single ball in matches.

After learning about this, Reon came to a conclusion about Yamagata: extremely vengeful, but also very easy to bribe. One popsicle would do—if not, then two.

Over the years, the number of popsicles offered up to Yamagata by the team was easily one or two whole boxes.

As for the newcomers, Reon hadn’t reached a final judgment yet. For now, they all seemed pretty good—except for one who wasn’t very bright, though when it came to volleyball, he was surprisingly good at learning by analogy.

Usually, when something happened, Tendo would start by stirring things up. Ushijima and Kawanishi would watch the spectacle, Shirabu would occasionally land an extra jab, and Yamagata and Eita Semi would fan the flames.

That was the standard process. After spending enough time with this team, Reon often developed the illusion that he was the only normal person there—and every time, he had to step in to stop this bunch of unruly kids.

And so, Reon’s role on the team was clear:

Reon.
The Lion.
The Worn-Out.
The Old Father.