Chapter 41: Training Camp 4

The 2v2 match drew a crowd before it even began. Everyone was curious to see how other schools trained.

Nekoma’s Kuroo dragged his treasured setter over with obvious excitement.
“Kenma, let’s go check that out.”

Kenma sighed, lips pursed, reluctantly shuffling along behind him.
“Kuroo, you’re such a pain.”

Kuroo laughed, taking it as a fair accusation.

Before the 2v2 started, the players were given a short window to discuss tactics.
Reon pulled Ryosuke aside and quietly shared his analysis.

“You focus on defense this match. My blocking and receiving aren’t great, and my serve isn’t anywhere near Ushijima’s level either.
I’ll handle scoring. You keep them from scoring. Blocking and receiving are on you.”

Reon gave Ryosuke’s shoulder a firm, serious pat.

Ryosuke immediately felt the weight of responsibility. Hugging the volleyball to his chest, he nodded earnestly, silently promising to do his job well.

The match began with Reon serving. Having been Ushijima’s teammate for so long, Reon naturally knew exactly which type of serve Ushijima struggled with the most.

Reon tossed the ball, took a few quick steps, then leapt high, unleashing a powerful jump serve with no spin.
The placement was perfect—not too close, not too far. Ushijima was just about to step in to receive when—

“Ushijima-senpai, I’ve got it!”

Goshiki lunged forward, arms raised toward the predicted landing point, managing to take the heavy serve but producing a less-than-ideal first pass.

“Sorry—fixing it!”

Ushijima didn’t respond. He simply moved along the ball’s trajectory, stepping forward to prepare for an overhead attack.

The moment Goshiki popped the ball up, Ryosuke—already waiting at the net—locked his eyes onto it.
The ball was set high. Ushijima-senpai was going for an overhead.

Ryosuke’s gaze sharpened.
Then I’ll jump higher than Ushijima-senpai.

He took a small step back, then accelerated into his approach, channeling all his strength into his toes and exploding upward, as if shooting straight out of the ground.

Ushijima saw the block forming in front of him.
Too high… there’s no gap to slip through.

The ball smashed into the tips of Ryosuke’s fingers. A burning pain shot through them, heat radiating from the impact.
Ryosuke bit back a cry.

“One touch! Reon-senpai!”

He immediately sprinted toward the falling ball, moving with incredible speed, and set it up with clean form.

Reon had already begun his backcourt approach the moment Ryosuke made contact. Ryosuke sent him a long, fast, flat set.

Goshiki went up alone for the block, Ushijima waiting behind him. Seeing the block ahead, Reon twisted his arm at the last instant—
and sent the ball cutting in on a sharp diagonal.

Point.

Ryosuke’s cheeks flushed red with excitement.
“Reon-senpai, that was amazing!”

Goshiki snorted. “It’s only one point. We’ll get it back!”

Ever since Ryosuke joined the volleyball club, Ushijima had been repeatedly shut down in matches—either stuffed by solo blocks or having his spikes dug up. By now, his mentality had become impressively steady.
…At least steadier than Semi’s.

“Whoa—Shiratorizawa’s first-years are something else this year. They actually managed to trip up Ushijima,”
Kuroo said with obvious glee, leaning against the railing.

“Kuroo, that expression on your face is gross,” Kenma said flatly, wiping his sweaty hands on Kuroo’s shirt.

“Kenma!!”

Kenma grabbed Kuroo’s head and forced it back toward the court.
“Watch the game.”

On the court, points traded back and forth.
Even with Ushijima’s side falling behind,

Ryosuke continued moving quietly between the net and the backcourt. His calm, steady style was deeply reassuring.
Like a large black cat—silent, unobtrusive—yet perfectly capable of silencing the opponent’s heavy artillery. A few balls slipped through, but those were simply impossible to save.

After Reon served again, Ushijima stepped in to receive, sending the ball to Goshiki.

Goshiki hadn’t gotten a single spike all match. Seeing the ball come his way, energy surged through him as he started his approach from the three-meter line.
He reached the net, jumped, and swung hard.

Ryosuke waited like a leopard stalking prey.
He had patience to spare.

At the exact instant Goshiki struck the ball—in that split fraction of a second—Ryosuke moved.
He shot up from the net and—

stuffed the spike cleanly.

A direct block point.

Goshiki wailed, face crumpling.
“Ryosuke! I’ve decided I’m going to hate you! Waaah!”

Kuroo burst out laughing. “Why’s this kid getting so worked up already?”

Kenma’s wide, catlike eyes stayed fixed on Ryosuke, his gaze filled with unmistakable interest.

After watching for a while, Morisuke Yaku walked over and rested a hand on Kenma’s shoulder.
“I really want to play against this junior sometime. His digs are incredibly stable.”

Kenma nodded in agreement.

After five or six more rallies, Ushijima finally earned the right to serve. He patted the ball in his hands, inexplicably feeling a sense of relief.
He blinked, mildly confused by his own reaction.

When Ushijima stepped up to the service line, tension spread through both the court and the spectators.

Ushijima-senpai’s left-handed jump serve.
Ryosuke crouched low, eyes locked onto the ball, never looking away for even a moment. As Ushijima tossed it, Ryosuke’s gaze followed upward.

The ball struck Ushijima’s palm with a heavy thud.

Just from that sound, Ryosuke could already tell where he needed to position himself.
He slid a few steps back and to the left, dropped his center of gravity, and raised his arms.

The ball slammed straight into his forearms, as if it had eyes.

Driving through his heels, Ryosuke stabilized himself and redirected the ball upward, borrowing its momentum.
It flew high and far—just enough to give Reon time to adjust.

“Nice ball.”

Reon tracked the ball overhead while shifting into position. Ryosuke quickly returned to the net as Reon began a wide, arcing approach along the sideline.

As Reon jumped, Goshiki suddenly realized—
He’s going for a cross shot!

What do I do?! Block the cross? But then there’s the line shot!

With no time to think, Goshiki jumped to meet the ball, eyes fixed on it. His left arm sealed off the crosscourt path.

Reon’s eyelid twitched.
This kid’s got skill.

In the briefest moment midair, Reon forcibly twisted his arm and hammered the ball straight down the line.

It’s over—!
Goshiki raged helplessly inside. What do I do?!

Bang!

Not the sound of the ball hitting the floor. Goshiki scrambled toward the backcourt and saw Ushijima digging it up cleanly.

“One more time.”

Ushijima’s calm voice gave Goshiki a huge boost of confidence.

Tears glimmered in Goshiki’s eyes as he used the ball’s height to launch his approach, going straight into a back-row attack.

Ryosuke was still in the backcourt. Seeing the ball coming, he dove forward in a desperate attempt to save it—
but missed by just a few centimeters.

“Sorry,” Ryosuke said quietly to Reon, frustration clear in his voice.

Reon ruffled his hair. “It’s fine. You did great.”

Ryosuke wrinkled his nose but didn’t reply.

They played two sets—one win, one loss. Though Ryosuke’s role was defense, his presence alone posed a real threat to Ushijima.
A player so quiet on the court that he was easy to overlook—
yet one who would eventually become the nightmare of countless wing spikers.