"Go on."
A low voice sounded from behind Nishinoya, and he felt someone gently push him forward.
He turned back to see Asahi , his eyes soft and filled with pride. Nishinoya's nose stung, his face flushed red, and he looked a complete mess—but he still broke into a wide grin and nodded hard.
Then, under everyone's gaze, he stepped onto the stage, leaving only his back in view.
That small figure looked unbelievably tall in the eyes of Karasuno.
At Karasuno's volleyball club, you never have to worry about the ball hitting the ground—because the strongest guardian is always right behind you.
After receiving his award, Nishinoya came back down full of energy, practically glowing. He strutted forward like a rooster after crowing, chest puffed out and head held high.
The crowd below burst into applause and praise. In that moment, what Nishinoya felt wasn't just his own joy, but also gratitude toward his seniors—and hope for Karasuno's future.
......…
After the final "Best Libero" award, the ceremony came to an end, and the crowd in the arena gradually began to disperse.
People chatted animatedly about the matches and the awards.
Aside from Ushijima, most of the award winners looked more confused than anything else. It was almost ridiculous—some of them even seemed like they didn't care much about winning at all… You really could see anything these days.
Washijō left immediately after the ceremony.
Reon led the team in packing up. Some players were half-asleep, others yawning nonstop. It couldn't be helped—they'd just finished the final match and had come straight to the ceremony without any rest.
They were all running on fumes.
Ryosuke was already leaning against Ushijima, nodding off like a pecking chick. For what felt like the nth time, Ushijima reached out with his calloused hand to steady Ryosuke's head before it dropped, letting out a quiet sigh.
For some reason, he suddenly felt like Ryosuke was his own kid…
…Ushijima had no idea his feelings were quietly shifting from simple team camaraderie into something suspiciously like fatherly affection.
Tsutomu Goshiki, on the other hand, was still full of energy. He hadn't played in the fifth set and was now chattering away with Kawanishi.
The two of them kept talking while sneaking glances at Yamagata—and judging by their expressions, it definitely wasn't anything nice.
Yamagata had been on his phone, but their constant staring made his skin crawl. He snapped his head around and shot them a look.
Tsutomu Goshiki: !!
He quickly looked away, then snuck another glance.
Yamagata finally lost his patience and strode over aggressively. Tsutomu Goshiki's face filled with panic, while Kawanishi remained completely oblivious, still rambling on.
"I'm not lying! Yamagata hates washing his socks. He hides them everywhere—under his pillow, in drawers, even in the sink…"
"Really? I! Had! No! Idea!"
A gritted voice sounded right behind Kawanishi.
His whole body stiffened.
Shirabu watched with interest. Just now, he'd clearly seen "guilt" and "panic" written all over Kawanishi's back.
Kawanishi forced an awkward laugh, stood up—
—and bolted.
Tsutomu Goshiki stared blankly at him, then belatedly jumped up to follow.
But Yamagata stepped in front of him, blocking his path, hands on his hips and face dark.
Tsutomu Goshiki: Should I play dead or beg for mercy?
Shirabu lost interest and looked away. He already knew how this would go.
First, the apology.
"Yamagata-senpai! I was wrong!"
Then the yelling.
"Wrong about what?! You didn't do anything wrong! I'm the one at fault! That idiot Kawanishi is the problem!"
Then Tsutomu Goshiki would try to slip away—
—and Yamagata would chase him down for "discipline."
Watching the furious Yamagata, Tsutomu Goshiki trembled as he tried to sneak off, but Yamagata caught him instantly and rushed over to deliver a round of "loving education."
"Ahh! That hurts, Yamagata-senpai!"
Tsutomu Goshiki crouched on the spot, clutching the fresh bump on his head, eyes brimming with tears, looking utterly wronged.
After dealing with him, Yamagata immediately started searching the entire venue for Kawanishi…
The situation quickly spiraled into chaos.
When Reon finished packing and turned around, he saw a crowd gathered together.
Someone was even egging them on—
"Fight! Fight!"
Judging by the voice, it sounded like Semi.
Reon's temples throbbed. His instincts told him that if he went over, his blood pressure might spike from anger…
But then he glanced over and saw Ushijima standing there like a pillar, with a half-asleep Ryosuke clinging to his arm.
That somehow made it even worse.
Reon walked over and saw Yamagata and Kawanishi tangled together.
Yamagata had his legs wrapped around Kawanishi's waist, yanking his hair, while Kawanishi winced in pain but didn't dare shake him off, afraid he'd drop him.
At the same time, Kawanishi was digging his fingers hard into Yamagata's waist, making him bare his teeth in pain.
…That position looked a little questionable.
As a grown adult, Reon suddenly felt a headache coming on. Too much pent-up energy in teenage boys was definitely not a good thing.
"Yamagata! Go for his nostrils!" Semi shouted.
Reon nearly jumped out of his skin.
Seeing Yamagata actually about to follow through, Reon dashed forward with a burst of strength greater than any spike he'd made in a match, yanking Yamagata off Kawanishi and shooting Kawanishi a sharp glare.
The surrounding players, who had been watching for fun, immediately stiffened when they saw Reon.
The coach might not hit them—
but Reon absolutely would.
Shirabu had already started retreating quietly, and Ushijima, feeling oddly guilty, dragged Ryosuke away.
That left only Semi and the two fighters.
All three of them trembled, helpless and pitiful.
......…
Five minutes later.
Reon looked completely refreshed as he picked up his bag.
Behind him trailed three thoroughly beaten individuals.
Kawanishi and Semi had it the worst—bruised and battered, faces mottled with blue and purple, their eyes full of resentment.
Yamagata had also been hit, but Reon hadn't gone too hard on him. After all, Yamagata was the team's hidden backbone—if he got mad and stopped passing properly, that would be a disaster.
Once everything was packed, they prepared to head back to school. Knowing how exhausted everyone would be after the match, the school had thoughtfully arranged a bus.
Ushijima dragged along a half-asleep Ryosuke, intending to shake him awake, but then reconsidered and simply let go.
Ryosuke: Some manners, but not much.
Ryosuke stumbled and woke up with a start, still a little dazed.
Ushijima pressed his lips together in quiet satisfaction, feeling rather proud of himself.
Shirabu walked past them with a sigh. Ushijima-senpai was great in every way—except he was just too straightforward, almost single-minded.
Ever since coming to Shiratorizawa, Ushijima's "idol filter" had completely shattered for him.
And Ryosuke wasn't much better.
The two of them together barely added up to one functioning brain.
Kawanishi followed behind Yamagata. The two kept muttering and nearly got into another fight, but Reon shut them down with a single glare.
After all the commotion, everyone finally got on the bus.
Reon collapsed into his seat without caring about appearances. His uniform was wrinkled, and his hair—yanked during the scuffle—was a mess.
He looked like he might just sleep forever.
Without saying a word, everyone collectively chose to stay quiet so as not to disturb him.
At first, there were a few whispers, but soon even those faded. After five full sets, everyone was utterly exhausted, slumped in their seats and fast asleep.
Little did they know—
Washijō's anger was waiting to burn them alive…
…
By the time they got back to school and got off the bus, Ryosuke had woken up. He yawned as he followed the group.
Banners were hanging all over the school:
"Congratulations to the Boys' Volleyball Club for Advancing to Nationals."
The atmosphere was festive.
Tsutomu Goshiki and Yunohama looked around excitedly, their eyes practically shining.
The third-years, on the other hand, were completely used to it. It happened every year.
Ryosuke, still teary-eyed from yawning, barely noticed.
But as he approached the gym with the group, a sharp sense of unease crept over him.
Something felt wrong.
Like something bad was about to happen.
Reon and Tsutomu Goshiki turned back at the same time.
"Why aren't you coming?"
Ryosuke gave an awkward smile, unsure how to explain it. Reon was probably used to this, but Tsutomu Goshiki…
…never mind.
"I'm coming."
He slowly followed behind Ushijima.
Ushijima glanced back at him. Normally, this junior was the most proactive one—what was wrong today?
Avoiding trouble?
The two exchanged a look.
Both seemed to reach the same conclusion at the same time:
Don't stand out.
Somehow, their wavelengths always lined up in the strangest ways.
But the moment they saw Washijō standing inside the gym with a dark expression—
it was already too late.
Washijō stood with his hands behind his back beside the still-uncollected net. The advisor stood nearby, not daring to breathe, frantically signaling with his eyes when he saw them return.
Unfortunately, the first one through the door was Tsutomu Goshiki.
Seeing the advisor's expression, he asked sincerely,
"Advisor, is your eye twitching?"
Advisor: …
His face froze. For the first time, he had the urge to shut this kid up.
Washijō shot the advisor a sharp glare. The advisor immediately lowered his head.
Once everyone lined up, Yamagata noticed something—
Ushijima and Ryosuke, the two award winners, were standing all the way at the back, making no move to step forward.
He didn't dare ask.
No one dared speak while Washijō remained silent.
Time ticked by.
Washijō still said nothing, just stared at them with a heavy, oppressive gaze.
Everyone stood there like trembling quails.
"Ugh…"
Tsutomu Goshiki, already exhausted, let out a small sigh.
…That was it.
Kawanishi immediately sensed disaster.
In the dead-silent gym, that sigh sounded especially loud.
Tsutomu Goshiki froze, eyes wide, quickly clamping a hand over his mouth.
Too late.
Washijō's sharp gaze locked onto him.
"A sigh? What are you sighing for? Are you dissatisfied with my meeting?"
His tone turned strangely sarcastic, making it even more terrifying.
Tsutomu Goshiki trembled.
Washijō looked away and continued,
"Who cleaned the gym before the match?"
Kawanishi's smug look instantly froze.
"It… was me…"
"After the meeting, go run ten laps. Is this what you call cleaning? Look at this! The net isn't taken down, the ball cart is still sitting there! What, you think I'm too old to see properly?!"
He slammed the post with a loud bang.
Kawanishi shrank back, stiff as a board.
Then came the full barrage.
"Don't think winning today means anything! Look at how you played! You actually struggled in a match like that—have your bodies regressed?!
Especially Tsutomu Goshiki and Tendo!
Tsutomu Goshiki, what was that blocking? Why are your hands always out of position? You got targeted badly in the third set, didn't you? Fix it! Don't drag the team down!"
Tsutomu Goshiki lowered his head, ashamed.
He didn't think the words were harsh.
Because they were true.
He had dragged the team down.
His fists clenched tightly.
Ryosuke was improving so fast, while he was still stuck in place.
He remembered that third set—
how Ryosuke had to cover for him while blocking.
It left a bitter taste.
Next time.
Next time, he wouldn't hold Ryosuke back.
Reon clicked his tongue softly. The kid still had fire in him—just one look and you could tell he'd be pushing himself hard after this.
Washijō turned to Tendo, his gaze sharp enough to cut.
"And you, Tendo! Starting today, you'll train two extra hours."
Tendo's expression cracked instantly.
"Huh?! Why?!"
Washijō's anger flared even more.
"You still have the nerve to ask? Look at how skinny you are! If I said you were from Shiratorizawa, I'd be embarrassed! You got a fever just from getting rained on yesterday, and you still want to argue? It's already lucky you lasted three sets! No excuses—training starts tonight!"
Tendo's face fell completely.
Two extra hours…
He might actually die.
The light drained from his eyes.
"And you, Yamagata! What are you laughing at?!"
Yamagata stiffened instantly.
He knew he was next.
"Your stamina's gone. Go join Tendo for extra training. What kind of nonsense was that? You even needed Ryosuke—a middle blocker—to support you. You've really fallen off."
Yamagata chuckled and nodded.
So that's what it was.
Extra training? No big deal.
He'd thought the coach was going to bring up the fight.
Washijō took a satisfied sip of tea.
The kid might be a bit dense—
but at least he listened.