The physical fitness tests wrapped up with Coach Washijō's announcement of the training match roster.
Those who weren't selected reacted differently—some were frustrated and disappointed, others still laughed it off. Most people had joined the volleyball club simply because Shiratorizawa's volleyball program was famous; some of them didn't even really know how to play.
Only three were chosen. Standing in the lineup, they exchanged glances and instinctively shuffled closer together, huddling like conspirators.
Goshiki bounced around Ryosuke and Yunohama like an overexcited puppy.
"Tomorrow! We'll be teammates! Should we talk strategy together? We have to win tomorrow! Playing against the seniors—I'm so excited!"
Under Goshiki's sparkling gaze, no one could escape. The big cat was no exception.
Ryosuke countered him with a gentle but devastating line, spoken in a soft voice. "I don't think we can. The gap between us and the seniors is just too big."
"I think Hanyu is right," Yunohama added quietly.
"Just call me Ryosuke. We're teammates now."
"Okay, Hanyu."
"..."
Goshiki snapped out of it. "That may be true, but—"
"But we still want to win," Yunohama cut in, finishing his sentence.
"Exactly!"
The two of them turned in unison to look at Ryosuke.
The big cat stayed silent for a moment—cats are timid, after all—then glanced at them. "I don't mind. Let's walk home together after school."
From a distance, Reon watched the three newly selected underclassmen and nodded with satisfaction. They all seemed… normal.
(Which raised the question—why did he sound so relieved?)
Reon walked over to Yamagata, who was packing away the ball cart. "Tomorrow's practice match. Call Semi and walk back together later."
Yamagata paused. "I have a feeling you guys are going to have a really bad time tomorrow."
Reon: "?"
Yamagata just smiled mysteriously and said nothing.
Ryosuke had already ended the lease on the place he'd been renting. From now on, he'd be living at Coach Washijō's house. As they were leaving, Coach Washijō caught sight of Ryosuke and his new teammates and let out a snort.
"I'm going out to dinner with the advisor tonight. My wife will be at home—I already called her to get your room ready. You little brat, get back early and keep her company."
"Yes!" Ryosuke nodded furiously. He knew it—Washijō would never just ignore him.
With that, Coach Washijō walked off with his hands clasped behind his back.
Goshiki and Yunohama exchanged a glance and chose not to ask about Ryosuke's relationship with Coach Washijō. Whether they asked or not didn't really matter.
After all, Ryosuke hadn't gotten in through the back door.
"I'll treat you guys to ice cream tonight," Ryosuke said, noticeably less shy around his future teammates.
The three of them walked together, talking about the practice match scheduled for the next day.
After buying ice cream, they stood under a streetlight and continued discussing tactics. Most of the talking went back and forth between Goshiki and Yunohama, while Ryosuke listened from the side.
Goshiki tore open his wrapper, took a huge bite, and mumbled around it, "Mmm… hot… no, wait—so cold!"
The poor kid was already freezing himself silly.
"We don't really need much strategy tomorrow, do we?" Goshiki went on. "There's only three of us."
Yunohama was the more rational type, somewhat similar to Shirabu. The difference was that Shirabu would only set to Ushijima, while Yunohama would choose the middle blocker he trusted most.
"I don't know your exact hitting point," Yunohama said. "I checked your reach earlier. If I set it around that height, would that work?"
"Hmm… my reach isn't that stable," Goshiki replied. "Just set it somewhere in the middle. That way I'll still have time to adjust in the air."
"What kind of spikes do you usually go for? Any preferred lines?"
"Oh, I like cross shots. Straight-line spikes are fine too, but those fail sometimes."
Yunohama didn't know how to respond to that. Most people struggled with cross shots; this new teammate hit them effortlessly. Straight shots, on the other hand, were wildly inconsistent—sometimes great, sometimes awful.
He sighed and looked over at Ryosuke, who was busy licking his ice cream.
"What about you, Hanyu?"
The big cat, caught mid-lick, jolted in surprise.
Then, as if nothing had happened, he said calmly, "You guys just focus on spiking. Even if the ball gets blocked, it's fine. I'll pick it up."
Yunohama looked away. Right—this one didn't follow the usual logic either.
On his very first day as an official team member, Yunohama already felt utterly exhausted. One teammate was an overenthusiastic puppy, another was a socially anxious cat, and both seemed to play almost entirely on instinct.
Only he himself was normal—no, ordinary.
The sky darkened quickly, like a black curtain dropping over the three figures under the streetlight.
Noticing how late it had gotten, Ryosuke finished the rest of his ice cream in two quick bites. "I'm heading off first," he said to Goshiki and Yunohama. "Someone's waiting for me at home."
They said their goodbyes beneath the streetlight. Ryosuke waved, signaling see you tomorrow.
He walked for a bit, then broke into a light jog.
The cold spring night wind brushed past him, turning the tip of his nose red.
Home… home… that's really nice. I can go home too. That's my home.
Thinking about Coach Washijō and his wife, Ryosuke picked up speed, running faster and faster.
Finally able to go home again, he dashed down the road in excitement—completely unaware that someone on a bicycle was following close behind him.