Chapter 79: Confusion

Ever since Ryosuke came back that night, he’d been in an unusually keyed-up state.

Ryosuke himself didn’t really notice it. He only had a vague sense that he was pushing himself a little harder than usual.

For Tsutomu Goshiki, though, it was sheer misery. Normally, Ryosuke’s daily routine was about two hundred serves, and serve practice happened to be something the two of them did together.

Lately, no one knew what was going on, but the workload had suddenly doubled. Ryosuke clung to Goshiki relentlessly, dragging him into extra training until he completely wore him down.

Training had been perfectly normal before. Now, with Ryosuke hauling Goshiki around for intense sessions, some of the seniors on the team started to develop a strange sense of competitiveness.

I have to train more than them!

For no apparent reason, everyone had gotten swept up in it.

Reon watched Ryosuke go looking for Tsutomu Goshiki for the third time today and fell into thought.

“So… what’s up with that kid lately?”

Eita Semi shook his head, clearly just as lost. “With that kind of training volume, won’t he get muscle damage?”

“He won’t. He goes to Team Doctor Saito for a checkup every single day.” Yunohama, who had no idea when he’d appeared, was also watching Ryosuke train from the side.

“…Man, doesn’t this make us look stupid?” Semi sucked in a sharp breath.

Yunohama fell silent, speechless. Reon rolled his eyes dramatically. “You think everyone’s like you and Tendō, slacking off instead of training?”

He gave Semi a hard kick in the butt and picked up a ball as he walked away. No way. He absolutely had to protect the dignity of the seniors—there was no way he’d let these brats surpass them.

After school, Yunohama and Tsutomu Goshiki were planning to grab Ryosuke and go eat udon.

Goshiki finished packing his bag and was about to call out to him when he looked up and saw nothing but Ryosuke’s back disappearing at full speed.

“Ryo…suke?”

Goshiki reached out helplessly, staring blankly in that direction.

Yunohama and Goshiki looked at each other.

Goshiki ran a hand through his hair and spoke to Yunohama with a serious expression. “I think…”

“You think?” Yunohama prompted.

“I think Ryosuke is in love.”

“?”

Yunohama waited a long time just for that, then rolled his eyes and walked off.

“Hey—wait, Yunohama! Don’t you think so too?” Goshiki hurried after him.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Huh?! How can you say that about me?!”

With his backpack slung over his shoulders, Ryosuke hurried toward Sendai Gymnasium. Tenma Udai was already waiting there.

Ryosuke looked around. It seemed like no one else was coming today.

“Senpai…”

The way she stood there without speaking somehow made her look more and more like family.

Under Ryosuke’s strange stare, Tenma Udai smiled and nodded. “You’re here.”

Ryosuke changed into his training clothes and automatically took his place at the net.

A few days earlier, Udai had already explained the hook serve to him in broad strokes and demonstrated it once.

Learning a new weapon meant endless trial and error. After grasping the basic trajectory, the next step was to gradually raise the level of proficiency, bit by bit.

Ryosuke aligned his left shoulder with the net. His feet were set apart, shoulder-width, knees bent, upper body leaning forward, his center of gravity balanced between both legs. He held the ball in front of his chest with his left hand or both hands, his clear, cat-like eyes fixed on the opposite court.

He searched for the best landing point.

His left hand slowly tossed the ball upward, just above his left shoulder.

At the same time, Ryosuke bent his right leg, shifting his weight onto the knee, twisting and tilting his upper body to the right.

The motion looked simple, but at the instant of the serve, forcing the body into that angle placed enormous demands on core strength. One tiny mistake, and the ball would “die in the womb,” never even making it out.

Ryosuke’s right arm swung backward and downward along his right side. He lifted his chest, raised his head, and locked his eyes on the volleyball.

His right foot drove hard into the floor. His body rotated left, carrying his arm upward along an arc, striking the ball slightly above and in front of his right shoulder.

At the same time, his weight shifted onto his left foot. His arm fully extended to maintain a high contact point, fingers naturally spread, his palm cupped as he struck the back-middle-lower part of the ball with his entire hand.

Ryosuke held his breath, his hand just about to touch the ball—

And then, with a pathetic “plop,” the ball dropped straight down from midair.

Ryosuke stared blankly at the volleyball, his head filled with questions.

Ever since he started practicing the hook serve, only two out of ten attempts even managed to barely brush the ball. And the ones that did go over were crooked and unstable, completely lacking the intimidation he’d imagined.

Left with no other option, he turned a helpless look toward Tenma Udai, who was sitting off to the side, leisurely watching the show.

Udai couldn’t help but laugh. She’d been waiting—waiting to see when this stubborn kid would finally ask for help. Being quiet was fine, but being too timid to speak up when you needed help was absolutely not.

Ryosuke lowered his head and trudged over, looking utterly deflated.
“Udai-senpai… why does my serve never work?”

His voice was so soft it was almost like a mosquito buzzing.

Udai smiled and rubbed Ryosuke’s head. She took the volleyball, stayed right where she was, and served.

With her left shoulder facing forward, she tossed the ball. Her right hand lashed out like a whip, striking the ball without the slightest hesitation.

The ball flew off to the side with fierce spin and height.

Ryosuke’s eyes went wide. He grabbed at Udai’s clothes in a rush.

“So… where exactly am I going wrong?”

Udai smiled helplessly and first calmed him down.

“Every movement you make is correct. But you hesitate too much. In that instant of hesitation, you’re trying to control every detail perfectly—and you miss the best timing to hit the ball.”

Ryosuke fell silent.

In his mind, a ball that couldn’t score without being touched by the opponent had no value at all—including every single one of his practice serves at the start.

From childhood on, Ryosuke had learned everything quickly. From small things like cooking, to big things like handling affairs between the Hanyu Group and various financial conglomerates.

Everything came easily to him. He’d long since grown used to living that way. He never expected to hit a wall in volleyball of all things. He never said it out loud, but deep down, Ryosuke had always known—he was a genius in certain areas…

Maybe the pain showed too clearly on his face. Udai said nothing more, only patted his shoulder.

“This is something you have to figure out on your own. External factors can’t interfere here. Let’s stop for today. Think it through carefully—and don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Ryosuke nodded weakly. It was as if the excitement of the past few days had drained all the energy out of him, leaving him listless and dispirited.

He silently shouldered his bag and walked on.

Ryosuke let out a heavy sigh. I’m a genius… Why do I even think that? Why am I afraid? What am I so worried about…?

“Hey! Shiratorizawa’s new kid—your name’s Ryosuke, right?”

In his daze, it sounded like someone was calling him.

He turned around and saw a handsome guy in a green uniform waving at him, with a spiky-haired boy in the same uniform standing beside him. One look at that face and you could tell he was a good person.

Ryosuke tilted his head in confusion and walked over.
“Um… hello. Who are you?”

Oikawa grinned as he slung an arm around the scowling boy next to him. “I’m Aobajosai’s great Oikawa-sama! And this here is our ace, Iwaizumi.”

Ryosuke’s head snapped up, his gaze burning as it locked onto Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi turned his face away, feeling uncomfortable under that intensity.

Ryosuke took a step forward, nearly pressing his face right up to Iwaizumi’s.
“You’re Iwaizumi-senpai from Kitagawa First, right?! I watched your middle school matches—you were super—amazing!”

Back when Ryosuke was still in middle school, his love for volleyball had led him to watch countless matches—international tournaments, club games, everything. That year, when he went back to Miyagi to visit Coach Washijō, he happened to catch the Miyagi Prefectural Junior High Volleyball Qualifiers.

In that match, Kitagawa First, led by Oikawa, defeated Dōsho Middle School. What captivated Ryosuke the most was Iwaizumi’s spike.

That lightning-fast hit, smashing through the block like a bolt of light, had stunned Ryosuke in the stands.

Ryosuke loved receiving, but there were only three wing spikers he truly admired: his current captain Ushijima, his childhood friend Sakusa, and Iwaizumi—the one he’d only ever seen once.

That sense of reassurance—such a lean body, yet such a powerful stance—had stayed with Ryosuke for years.

...

After a long stretch of silence, Oikawa exploded.
“Huh?! You don’t know me?! The super amazing King Oikawa! The setter even your captain tried to steal!!”

Ryosuke said nothing, his eyes still fixed on Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi nodded awkwardly. “Uh… if you mean the captain of Kitagawa First, then… yeah, that was probably me.”

Ryosuke’s eyes practically lit up like little bulbs, shining brighter and brighter until Iwaizumi didn’t know where to look.

“Wow! It’s the real Iwaizumi-senpai!!”

Ryosuke swore that the moment he met the idol he’d admired years ago, this terrible day instantly became nothing at all.