"I've admired the strong ever since I was a child. That's only natural, people are drawn to strength. Back in middle school, my school team faced Senior Ushijima and his team at the prefectural tournament.
At the time, I was just a minor substitute, standing in the stands, completely insignificant. In that match, Senior Ushijima won in what could only be described as a finishing blow. It was clean and decisive, but also cruel."
Shirabu looked straight into the camera as he spoke, his thoughts drifting back. Kuiya's question, "Why did you start playing setter?" had brought him back to those days when he chased after Ushijima's figure.
"Senior Ushijima's spikes were powerful. They shattered the confusion I had back then. From that moment on, I kept working toward him. Since I couldn't become an ace like Senior Ushijima, then I would become his setter. A setter he could recognize at a glance, even in a crowd."
There was something slightly unusual about the way he phrased it. Kuiya tilted his head, but simply took it as the passionate dream of a young boy. Still, to make up his mind over someone he had only seen once, and fight his way here step by step...
That kind of determination was admirable. Someone who can pursue their dream without complaint is bound to have a bright future.
Kuiya looked at Shirabu with clear appreciation, then asked another question that made people grit their teeth.
"Then, could you share your thoughts on Shiratorizawa's training methods?"
Coach Washijō's expression darkened. Was this guy here to stir trouble? Each question was harder to deal with than the last.
Shirabu snuck a glance at Coach Washijō and blinked, looking like a pitiful little victim.
Coach Washijō choked, his irritation rising even more.
Why is this kid looking at me like that?
Shirabu caught the change in his expression and pouted slightly, a rare childish gesture. After spending so much time with Tsutomu Goshiki, he had finally gained a bit of liveliness.
"I'm very satisfied with Shiratorizawa's training methods. This is undoubtedly a place that can transform people into the strong."
A flawless answer.
Kuiya clicked his tongue inwardly.
"Then finally, is there anything you'd like to say to everyone?"
Shirabu smiled faintly, his delicate features facing the camera.
"If one day you're shaken by that kind of scene, then follow it without hesitation. And don't regret that decision along the way."
There was a deeper meaning behind his words. From that middle school match until now, along this path of effort, Shirabu had felt disappointed, doubted himself, and on sleepless nights, he would get up alone and stare at the moon outside his window.
Over and over, he would ask himself, was it worth it?
But when he finally stood in that position, he understood.
What he had been chasing was not just Ushijima, but also his own desire to win. Using Ushijima as his goal, he had taken one step at a time to reach this point.
Looking back now, he felt nothing but gratitude for that one match, the one that gave his life direction.
"Thank you."
Shirabu lowered his head to the camera and to everyone in the lounge before turning to leave.
"Phew..."
He leaned against the door and let out a long breath. So even Shirabu had been nervous.
He narrowed his eyes and let out a quiet, pleased chuckle. This conversation had given him a rare sense of ease.
Coach Washijō was momentarily dazzled by Shirabu's smile.
So this is what he looks like when he smiles... both youthful and serious.
Watching Shirabu's retreating figure, Coach Washijō nodded to himself yet again, so many times that it almost looked like one of those constantly nodding dashboard figures.
Next, Kuiya chose Ryosuke.
He had already heard this name from many people. What kind of person was he? The curiosity in Kuiya's heart scratched like a restless cat.
"Creak."
A pale, slender wrist pushed open the lounge door, and everything seemed to slow down.
Kuiya stared at Ryosuke, his breath catching.
This boy's appearance and build were simply outstanding. He looked like a creation especially favored by the heavens.
Someone like Ryosuke did not seem suited for volleyball. Kuiya felt he resembled a little prince raised in a castle, precious and delicate.
Soft black curls clung lightly to his scalp before he casually swept them back, revealing exquisitely refined features. His long lashes fluttered, casting faint shadows beneath his eyes, like a butterfly resting there, ready to take flight at any moment.
His cheeks held a natural flush, and his lips were pressed together, soft and pink.
Even sitting still, he looked like an expensive figurine, radiating elegance.
Ryosuke spotted Coach Washijō behind the camera and, reassured, gave him a bright smile.
Coach Washijō rolled his eyes.
A staff member nearby looked at him in surprise. When the previous players had come in, this respected coach had not shown such a reaction.
Could it be that this boy was somehow different to him?
Kuiya cleared his throat, covering his brief distraction, completely missing the exchange between the two.
After greeting each other and introducing themselves, they moved on to the interview.
"When did you start playing volleyball? Was there a particular reason, or just personal interest?"
Kuiya still could not understand why someone like him would choose volleyball.
Ryosuke smiled politely, sitting upright as he answered calmly.
"My introduction to volleyball was entirely thanks to Coach Washijō, and it was under his guidance that I truly came to love the sport.
On a very ordinary, quiet afternoon, the younger Coach Washijō jumped and spiked. Under the sunlight outside, it felt like I could see the joy in his heart as he struck the ball. That figure, that summer, stayed with me for a long time."
"From that moment, I decided to learn volleyball without hesitation. Somewhere along the way, I had a feeling. I felt that I was born for the court, born for volleyball."
Coach Washijō's gaze softened.
That afternoon Ryosuke mentioned was from when he was still very young, newly brought into his home, crying endlessly. With no other choice, Washijō had used a volleyball to comfort him.
Back then, the light in little Ryosuke's eyes had been so beautiful.
So many years had passed in the blink of an eye.
"So do you like volleyball? What does volleyball mean to you? Is it a tool for winning, or an irreplaceable partner?"
Ryosuke sighed quietly. As expected, interviews were troublesome, one question after another. Still, he answered patiently.
"Volleyball is my second faith, after life itself. It's small and light, yet capable of so many changes. Spiking, setting, receiving, and then spiking again.
It's a process that connects everything, and volleyball is the center that all of us revolve around."
"It's my partner. When I'm alone, it keeps me company. It's also an obstacle in my growth. Many of my troubles come from it, but I can't leave it behind."
"I enjoy training. Every second on the court makes my blood surge. I was born for volleyball."
He spoke with absolute certainty.
Because he believed it, he would go even further.
Coach Washijō stared at him, as if seeing his younger self when he had first joined the Shiratorizawa Boys' Volleyball Club, carrying that same confident glow.
Only, Ryosuke was far more fortunate.
Kuiya came back to his senses, looking at Ryosuke's serious expression. Only then did he realize that none of this was perfunctory or joking.
Ryosuke meant every word.
"Then Ryosuke, is there anything you'd like to say to other students who play volleyball?"
Ryosuke blinked and smiled, like a cunning little fox.
"Work hard. Volleyball is a sport where people rarely die. If it doesn't kill you, then train like it will. And if you haven't decided whether to play yet, don't hesitate. Give it a try. You won't have that many impulsive nights left."
...
Throughout the streets of Miyagi, Shiratorizawa's interview played on repeat.
Outside a sports shop, a small child with a backpack stood in front of the window, watching the looping broadcast.
"Give it a try..."
The child's sweaty hand tightened around the yen in his palm. He stood there for a long time, then looked up at Ryosuke on the screen.
Finally, he gathered his courage and stepped inside.
The air seemed to still.
"Hello, how can I help you?"
"Hello... I... I want to buy a volleyball!"
As if something had been passed on, the air began to move again, and the sunlight outside the glass door shone brightly.
Ryosuke had no idea that countless hesitant people would, because of that one sentence, make up their minds to start playing volleyball.
If he knew, he would probably be moved to tears.
...
Two or three days had passed since the TV interview. The interviews of the top three schools in the prefectural tournament were still being broadcast repeatedly on Miyagi's sports channel, and the buzz had not faded.
Inside the gym, everyone gathered beneath the large overhead screen, watching the interviews from the past few days. Some had snacks, others drinks. The lights were turned off, and Coach Washijō even joined in, sitting at the back on a small stool.
It seemed morning practice would be delayed.
Early that morning, Ryosuke had climbed up toward the big screen, fiddling with the plug, eager to watch the other schools' interviews.
"Ryosuke! That's dangerous! Get down!"
Reon's shout startled him. Standing on the ladder, Ryosuke flinched and began swaying with his arms out.
Reon's heart nearly stopped.
Ryosuke tightened his core, spread his arms, and managed to steady himself. Only then did Reon breathe again and quickly help him down.
Seeing Ryosuke lower his head guiltily, Reon found it hard to scold him, especially since he had been the one to startle him. Instead, he rubbed Ryosuke's hair.
"What were you doing?"
Ryosuke immediately perked up and explained his idea.
Reon thought for a moment. Watching TV was not a big deal, especially since it was about the prefectural tournament.
The real problem was the TV itself.
Other schools kept their TVs on for long hours during training, but Shiratorizawa never used theirs. Over time, it had gathered a thick layer of dust.
Having spent so much time with Sakusa, Ryosuke had become more particular about cleanliness. Seeing the dust, cobwebs, and scattered debris behind the TV made him physically uncomfortable.
He had been standing on the ladder wondering what to do when Reon arrived.
Perfect timing. Ready labor.
Reon patted his head and took the ladder.
"Go tell Coach Washijō. I'll handle this."
Ryosuke immediately ran off.
Plan successful.
"Coach Washijō!"
Coach Washijō had been secretly drinking in his office when the door burst open.
"Pfft!"
He spat out his drink.
Quickly wiping his mouth, he snapped,
"What do you want? Don't you know to knock?"
He bent down as if picking something up, then quietly shoved the bottle under the desk and covered it with his foot.
If his wife found out, there would be trouble. If this kid found out, he might even use it against him.
Ryosuke tilted his head.
That's strange. He had never been scolded for this before.
What was he hiding?
He narrowed his eyes.
Then his nose twitched.
A faint smell of alcohol.
He sniffed around like a puppy, trying to catch evidence.
Coach Washijō stiffened, cold sweat running down his back, though his face remained composed.
"What is it? Speak."
Ryosuke looked at him suspiciously. He was sure he smelled alcohol, but Washijō's expression made it hard to be certain.
Did I imagine it?
After a pause, he explained his idea about watching the sports channel in the gym.
Washijō nodded immediately.
That's not right.
Since when was he this agreeable?
Ryosuke lingered, the two staring at each other.
In the end, Ryosuke gave in and left.
"Phew..."
Washijō relaxed, about to retrieve the bottle.
Bang.
He jolted.
Ryosuke had suddenly returned.
Fortunately, he had not bent down yet.
Washijō glared.
Ryosuke rubbed his nose and smiled.
After leaving earlier, he had felt something was off. He tried to test things, but found nothing.
So he came back with an excuse.
"You'll understand later. Coach Washijō, come join us too."
Then he ran off like a rabbit.
Washijō snorted.
"That brat."
He picked up the bottle, took a sip, and sighed in satisfaction.
"Well, since Ryosuke asked, I might as well join the fun."
...
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