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2.43 S1 Chapter 3.5 - The Dog’s View and the Giraffe’s View

5. READY FOR SUMMER

You think Aoki reads shonen manga?

This is the end of the first half of the first season, a.k.a the first tankobon volume. I’ll be going on a short hiatus for a few week before coming back.

Stan Odacchi!

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Thrusting a CalorieMate bar into his mouth and holding a sports drink in his hand, when he rushed to the washroom near the gym, he suddenly ran into Aoki. Aoki took one look at Oda’s face and widened his eyes for a moment, then cautioned him with a disgusted look on his face.

“You should stop it with that…in my opinion.”

“Can’t be helped. I didn’t have the time to eat lunch or go to the washroom.”

The CalorieMate had sucked up his saliva and was sticking to his mouth. He put the box that still had some left and the bottle on top of the urinal and lined up next to Aoki.

Immediately after serving as an assistant referee on the courtside, he immediately jumped into his own team’s match, served as an assistant referee again on the same court as soon as it was over, plus he had to keep an eye on the progress of the entire boys’ volleyball division, support the participants and instruct the other members… Needless to say, he didn’t have time to take a lunch break, and he wasn’t allowed to go to the washroom since morning. Still, Oda only had to watch the gym, but Aoki was frequently pulled back by runners from the executive committee’s tent on top of that. This was the first time he was able to make time to talk to Aoki face to face.

It was finally the day of the Seiin Ballgame Festival. Luckily, the last few days were breaks in the rainy season, and the event was held on a day that didn’t interfere with outdoor events. In fact, the weather was so favorable that the temperature has reached July-like levels, and the executive committee has been repeatedly urging people to be careful about heat stroke.

Boys’ volleyball had managed finish four of their six group games without incident on the stage side of the gym. According to gossip, from the first group Team C, led by Aoki, had two wins, and from the second group Team F, led by Oda, had two wins, so it had already been decided that they would clash in the finals. The remaining two games would be elimination games that didn’t make it past the preliminaries, whether they win or lose, but since points were added depending on the points won, the overall winner was still unknown.

“It’d be interesting if we train Okuma to be a center.”

Aoki said next to him as he relieved himself. As ever, Aoki’s shoulder was at the corner of his vision.

“Okuma’s on the rugby team, isn’t he?”

“Well, it’s just an idea. If we had a burly guy like that, we’d look a bit stronger, right? Suemori-san said boys’ volleyball is soft.”

“It’s all about looks?”

“It’s important to look scary, you know?”

Well, when he puts it that way, it’s true that even though Aoki is the tallest guy in school, he’s more “long” than “big,” so he doesn’t look all that burly. He’s a center whose traits are height and dexterity. Okuma’s likely to be a different type of center than Aoki though…

“Well, enough about Okuma. I want Haijima more.”

“You’re pretty fixated on Haijima.”

“What kind of guy wouldn’t fall in love with that play? You’ve seen him play two games, didn’t you?”

“I know he’s good, but that’s not enough. It’d be nice to have a character who can speak up and get the team going, but he’s the complete opposite of that. Your team isn’t attracting any amateurs, right? For events like these, it’s better to have a noisy guy like Okuma.”

“So you want Okuma more than Haijima? Aren’t you being pretty cold to him?”

He couldn’t help but sound grumpy. He understood Aoki’s objective point of view. However, he got angry when he was told things objectively.

“Hmm? No.”

Aoki’s voice was light, and his shoulders turned slightly towards him.

“I’m talking about the ballgame tournament. The captain of this team is you, and if that’s what you want, then I won’t object to it and cooperate with you. If you want, I can find Haijima’s weakness so he can’t refuse no matter what.”

“I don’t need that kind of shady business.”

When he glared at him sideways, his shoulders shook with laughter. “It’s a joke.” It’s scary because this guy actually does those things that seem like a joke.

“We don’t need Haijima’s weakness for him to join. The problem might be Kuroba. He’s doing well so far today, but I don’t know what’ll happen when he comes face to face with Haijima in the finals.”

“Just have them match up. A feud between freshmen would be all cleared up if they just punch each other once hard and tell each other their true thoughts, don’t you think?”

Aoki said carefreely while lightly shaking his hips up and down, then tucked his thing back in and left the urinal.

In the case of you and me, we missed our chance to go through the process of punching each other and saying our true thoughts, and now we’re here… Oda watched the tall silhouette disappear across the label of his plastic bottle with a look like he wanted to say something.

Even though he and Aoki had their disagreements, they always ended up sidestepping the issue instead of getting into a serious quarrel. Even though Aoki would attack others with a sharp tongue as much as he wanted if necessary, but when it came to Oda, he would take a step back. He didn’t have to retract his opinion if there was something about Haijima’s acquisition he didn’t like. I’m not such a tyrant that I won’t respect the opinion of the vice captain.

Oda still wasn’t convinced about how he was chosen as captain in the first place. Whenever Aoki gave him his due because he was the captain, it stimulated a deep sense of inferiority within him.

When the grade before them retired, Aoki was to be appointed as the next captain. He had a mild and calm personality, able to keep an eye on the whole team. He was the natural choice.

At the same time, Oda was advised to switch from attacker to libero. The introduction of the libero system had opened up a place for people with short statures to play an active role. They could only substitute with a back row player and couldn’t participate in the spikes and blocks in the front row, but a receive specialist was an essential position in modern volleyball. It wasn’t that the previous captain had any ill intent, but rather that he knew that Oda poured more passion into volleyball than anyone else.

However, right with that timing, Aoki jumped into the student council. As though he was purposely creating a situation where Oda was compelled to be the captain—he couldn’t hold an important position on the student council and be a team captain for club activities at the same time. That was why Aoki couldn’t take on the role of captain. And under the current rules, the libero couldn’t in effect be the captain. In other words, as long as Oda had no choice but to be captain, he couldn’t switch to libero. Oda truly felt humiliated at being stripped of the attacker position. Because Aoki had sensed that.

What’s with you? Was that pity for me, who never grew taller? Or was it the freedom of a tall guy? He was angry. However, he was unable to lay bare such ugly emotions in front of Aoki and in the end, it didn’t turn into a serious conflict at the time. The comfortable relationship that they had since they started high school had somehow created a wall instead, and there was an atmosphere where it would be too awkward to share their feelings at this point.

Although Aoki was his best friend and a trustworthy partner who was more easy to get on with than anyone, he also harbored a strangely twisted gloominess towards him.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

It was awkward, so he purposely waited for Aoki to leave the washroom before he did so himself, but he saw a tall and narrow back staying in the corridor in front of the gym. From the other direction, Suemori appeared and suddenly spoke in a reproaching tone.

“Oda-senpai, why were you taking your time in the washroom? Please don’t make me wait here.”

“I don’t remember telling you to wait…You could have given me a shout if there’s anything to take care of.”

“I don’t want to go near the boys’ washroom.”

Oda nonchalantly put his hand behind him, feeling that the food and drinks he brought out from the washroom were dirty. I’ve been slightly thinking this for a while, but I wonder if Suemori hates men. But she seems to be able to talk to Kanno normally.

“So, what’s up?”

“The old teacher collapsed.”

Aoki answered in place of Suemori.

“What!?”

The advisor for the boys’ volleyball team was an elderly teacher, just as Aoki called him. They’ve heard that he was rehired on a part-time basis once he reached retirement age. Apparently, he used to play volleyball when he was a student, but the form of the game of volleyball should be quite different between then and now. He was like a fossil from his generation.

The advisor had been the referee for the entire competition without a break since this morning. Even they, as active high school students, were likely to collapse from the hectic bustle, so it would be even harder on the elderly.

It seemed that he was feeling dizzy from the heat due to the temperature in the gym having risen. They said it wasn’t serious, but the referee’s chair was now vacant. There were still three matches left. Either Oda or Aoki should be the referee for the remaining two games in the group league, but the problem was the finals where C and F would encounter each other. Since the other positions also had the bare minimum amount of people in them, there were no extra hands.

“Well, I’ll do it.”

Aoki said without missing a beat.

“Aren’t you competing?”

“I don’t mind. From the start, I prioritized administration, so if there’s not enough people, I was going to pull out and head over there, but…ah, there’d be a problem with me refereeing a match with my own team.”

“You say that, but there’s no other way. I want to give Kanno a chance to be in a game, and there’s no reason to bother pulling Kuroba out. On the contrary, isn’t the balance better now that we have two experienced people on each team?”

“Even if it was still three on two, we won’t lose. It’s not that…it’s no fun if you’re not gonna be playing.”

He felt like he was the only one being childish and having a tantrum at a time when everyone had to back each other up, and his voice got quieter and quieter. He couldn’t bear knowing that Aoki and Suemori were exchanging worried-looking glances over his head. But he still didn’t like Aoki’s quick and easy way of splitting them up. Was I the only one who was looking forward to the match…?

“If that’s the case, let’s make it a little more interesting.”

Aoki proposed in a light tone. When he looked up with suspicion in his eyes, Aoki had a pensive look on his face with a faint smile hovering at the corner of his mouth. He looked like that when he was about to plot something.

“In other words, you’re saying it’s boring because you’re not in it. In the first place, you say ‘take’, but do you even have their approval…?”

“I’ll persuade Okuma. Of course that’s if C wins. If F wins, you’ll persuade Haijima. However, if you lose, you’ll have to give up on Haijima once and for all. —Kuroba!”

Aoki suddenly yelled. Kuroba, who had suddenly been poking his head in from the metal doors on the gym side of the corridor, made a “Mrp” sound and ducked his head.

“You and Nagato both don’t want Haijima to join, right? You were listening in on our conversation just now. Since it’s like that, crush them to bits. Treat this match like a real game.”

***

The chief referee for the finals was Aoki. The assistant referee, the point displayer, and two linesmen were all members of the team who weren’t playing in the game. The other two linesman and the ball retriever were help from the girls’ team, including Suemori.

It was past four o’clock in the afternoon, but heat was coming down the roof, which had been scorched by the midday sun, and accumulated indoors. The windless court wasn’t just completely covered in heat, but also some kind of strangely oppressive atmosphere.

As the team members took their positions around the court, they sensed a strange tension in the court that went beyond a mere school event, and their expressions tightened. Only Aoki had his usual relaxed expression, and he wondered what he was scheming. The way the already-tall Aoki stood on the referee’s stand and looked down at the court already somewhat made it a “tower.”

There were some spectators gathered along the walls and on the stage. The gallery installed on the second floor was also overflowing with students in sportswear. He thought that since it coincided with the futsal and softball finals, the spectators would be drawn to that, but it seemed that a surprisingly large number of people had come just to watch. Across the partition net, on the other side of the court, the girls’ basketball game was being held. The random bouncing of a ball other than a volleyball was jarring to his ears—he might be getting a bit nervous himself. He shrugged his shoulders up and down to release the extra energy. He was already sweating just by standing.

Team F got the serve through rock-paper-scissors. Haijima would serve from the right back row, and Oda would start diagonally from him at the front left. The opposing Team C’s starting order had Kanno at the front right and Kuroba in the back left. With two volleyball veterans placed diagonally from each other and sandwiching and supporting the amateurs, both teams had the most suitable formation.

Kuroba, getting ready to receive, kept pulling at his T-shirt and wiping the sweat off his face an unusual number of times. He wondered if it was just his imagination that the movement of his legs seemed heavy. Even though he was always jumping around on the court even when there was no need for it, now his feet were clinging to the floor. He’s pretty nervous. The fact that the crowd was much bigger than for the group league no doubt played a role.

What are we going to do for this game? He felt like it had become a farce starring the boys’ volleyball team, but of course he wasn’t going to lose on purpose. We’re going for the win. It was out of the question to give up on getting Haijima because of a single loss in a in-school match. If that was the case, he shouldn’t have taken this bet, but it was also out of the question for Oda to not buy a fight that had been sold to him.

He called Haijima, who was heading for the service zone, to a stop and he turned around and asked him something.

“It’s okay now, right?”

“Yeah. Do it with all your power.”

He heard the sound of the safety lock inside Haijima disengaging. In the previous two games, Haijima was banned from doing jump serves. It would no longer be a game against an amateur team if he did so, and someone were to get hit in the face, they risked injury.

“…Eleven months.”

Haijima muttered in a low voice, cast his gaze to a point on the other side of the net and narrowed his eyes.

“Did he get a little better?”

He smiled faintly. The depths of his eyes were boiling, as though he was even taking in this heat and transforming it into a part of the heat within him. Stimulated by that fighting spirit, Oda also felt his entire body trembling.

Just you watch… He glared at Aoki, but couldn’t meet his gaze with Aoki on the referee’s chair.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Haijima’s jump serve even drew the eyes of the first-timer spectators. He placed the ball in his left hand, stretched his arm directly before him and stood still. A beat of dignified silence that took the watcher’s breath away. The moment he tossed the ball up high with a spin towards the ceiling, there was a big “Ooh.”

From his graceful and refined form, as though he was dancing in the air, he let loose a sharp jump serve. Contrary to the slickness of his form, Haijima’s serve was quite unpleasant. It had a unique twisting spin, partly due to him hitting left-handed, and the one who was receiving was under immense pressure. Drawing a curving arc, it accurately aimed for the area Kuroba, who was positioned in the back row, was guarding. Kuroba, who didn’t say he was good at serve receives, managed to hit it with his arms with a panicked look on his face. Fortunately, it went up high, so his teammate went right below it and waited. Who was going to hit it?

Was Kuroba, who received it, going to hit it himself?

“Right court!”

He was astounded by the instruction that came from the referee’s chair.

Oi, wait a minute!? Is that even allowed!?

The ball was set to Kanno on the right court. Oda jumped to block in surprise, but Kanno dexterously shifted the core of the impact and changed it to a straight spike from the angle of a cross-court hit. Tch, he’s good… The spike that was as sharp as a needle went through a narrow course.

While landing, he turned his head to follow the whereabouts of the ball. He thought it might have been on the border of the sideline, but Nagato the linesman didn’t hesitate to indicate that it was in. The person who enthusiastically shouted “Yes!” from outside the court in place of Kanno, who had landed soundlessly, was…Suemori. I get the feeling that there’s a lot of officials that are emotionally attached to the opponent’s side, but…?

Team C’s first point was engraved.

“Oi, why is the referee giving out instructions?”

He snapped at the referee’s chair.

“If there are any objections, you can write them down on the record sheet later.”

Aoki said calmly, then quickly blew the whistle to prompt Team C to serve. There was no way they were going to prepare a record sheet used for official games for a ballgame tournament.

“Do it in one go, Haijima.”

He turned his back on the referee’s stand in indignation and said that aloud in order to calm himself down. However, Haijima only sullenly muttered, “You haven’t gotten any better at defense though,” and it seemed that he didn’t care about the noise around him or the subtle and complex actions of the staff members. The intensity of his concentration after entering the court was astonishing, but…he felt that he was slightly different from the previous two matches. Isn’t his mind too focused on one point?

At the end of where Haijima’s eyes were fixed on, Kuroba was, as ever, looking around restlessly while worrying about sweating profusely. The complete opposite of Haijima, his concentration was scattered. It was a face that screamed that Aoki’s implication was bad.

Team C, under Aoki’s instructions (which he still couldn’t wrap his mind around), had adopted the strategy of gathering the ball to Kanno. The scene where Kuroba hit didn’t return immediately, but even so, that scene came when it was 3-3 in the beginning, the rotation moved three at a time and Kuroba in the front right was directly facing Haijima in the front left over the net.

The first setting of this set came from Kanno to Kuroba.

At Haijima’s instructions, a triple block was set up. Oda in the back row prepared to back them up. “That’s a hell of a jump from that guy!?” The jumping power of Kuroba, who was high enough for his chest to comfortably show up over the net, made the crowd go wild. Completing the rotation of his shoulders by arching his whole body in midair, his body bent back and his arms swung out, as though releasing a nocked arrow. This dynamic spiking form, which could be called the splendor of volleyball, was the usual Kuroba, but…he’s not looking at the blockers at all. The ball didn’t pass over the net, getting caught on the white band and falling to Team C’s side.

Right when F-team took the lead with 4-3,

“Time out.”

The head referee requested a time-out.

Oi…I’ve never heard of this.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

“Why hasn’t he fixed that habit of his yet?”

Haijima turned on him as soon as they gathered courtside. Team C was making a circle around the tower that was Aoki. So why was the chief referee coming down from the referee’s stand and being on the bench of one team? After glaring at the other party who made his temple spasm, Oda turned back to Haijima.

“It already became solidified within him when he joined in April. There’s no problem in practice games, but he always gets like that when it’s a game with a lot of pressure, and to be honest, he’d be useless in an official match.”

For last year’s middle school prefecturals, Oda only went on the second day, so Kuroba, who apparently only participated on the first day, went unchecked. When he first joined the club, Oda was simply excited that an unexpected find had burst in. In fact, when he was used in the May practice match, he couldn’t find any problems. There was an inconsistent feeling to him, like he was developing, but his energetic play was pleasant to watch, and his strangely likeable character also helped to energize the whole team.

Although they haven’t acquired Haijima yet, he was confident that their attacker lineup was in good order with this, and then the prefectural tournament in the start of June—

The god of volleyball seemed to like secretly digging pitfalls.

An odd habit had begun to show up. He either failed his spikes entirely that got caught by the blocks and got himself out, or it got trapped by the net. It wasn’t like his form was messed up, but he couldn’t settle it. Even when he asked the person in question, he vaguely answered with a somewhat spaced-out expression, like his feet weren’t on the ground, that even he didn’t know why it was like that.

“…Why…”

Haijima grumbled, glaring at his feet with a gaze that could scorch through the floor.

“Stumbling over something like that…”

Haijima, that’s exactly how I feel about you, Oda thought. If you ask me, I’m jealous of the both of you, and just looking at you makes me irritated.

“Hey, we have to do something about him. It seems that it has something to do with Nagato and the second round of the middle school prefecturals?”

At this point, I should create a front that would make Haijima take a step closer to us, even forcibly. Thinking that, he tried inducing him.

“The middle school prefecturals…?”

Haijima raised his head and furrowed his brow.

“Sometimes players fail in their debut matches and suddenly fall to pieces.”

“They said it was my fault? But…”

His voice jumped up for an instant. He immediately closed his mouth sullenly and looked down again, fiddling with the taping on his fingers in front of his stomach. He thought of him as a player who didn’t have the habit of making other people read his mind, so that behavior was unexpected.

“What was I supposed to do…I was waiting, on that day…but, he was the one who didn’t come…”

He felt like the view before him was suddenly blocked by a thin, but hard, shell.

***

Even after the timeout, Kuroba’s play was lackluster. It would have been excusable if he had been blocked by the volleyball team members, but he was messing up because he was minding the blocker, who was an amateur ten centimeters shorter than him and just standing in front of him. Really, when he was good, he was great, but once his gears went out of whack, he quickly fell apart on his own. To be honest, he thought it was better for him to withdraw, but Aoki, Team C’s captain as well as the referee (this dual role was strange no matter how you look at it), didn’t seem like he was going to replace him.

He could see the frustration building up in even Haijima every time Kuroba made a mistake. Even so, the thing that differentiated Haijima from Kuroba was that his play never wavered, or rather, became frighteningly sharp. Not necessarily in a good sense, as he even covered his teammates’ minor mistakes all by himself and ended up excluding the amateurs. It felt like the sullen aura emanating from Haijima’s entire body made it seem as if the temperature on only their side of the court had dropped down a notch. It was out of the control of even Oda and he called to him less and less, and he thought that he could imagine the atmosphere in the second round of the prefectural tournament Nagato was talking about now.

His irritation towards the two who didn’t appreciate at all the value of the treasures that had been given them became stronger. If it were those two, there was no doubt that they would be able to stand at the forefront for the next ten or twenty years. Was it asking too much of freshmen to be less small-minded when they had such high physical potential? But, if he had those two’s potential, he definitely wouldn’t waste it. A super-ace who was trusted by his team for his solid decision-making ability as well as enlivening the team as a mental pillar…He knew that he couldn’t be that kind of player anymore, but he still dreamed to this day.

The fifteen-point system was shorter than he expected. When Haijima rotated from the back row to the front row and match-upped against Kuroba with the net between them again, they entered the final stage of the first set. Kuroba, obviously bending back, took a receiving stance like he was shrinking away from the net. While glaring at Kuroba’s disgraceful behavior with a gaze that could burn the net to ashes, it was perhaps at this moment that a circuit somewhere in Haijima’s mind snapped.

The serve was Oda’s. His thoughts were so focused on the two of them that his aim was a bit fuzzy, so the easy and half-hearted ball ended up falling right in the middle of the opponent’s court. He ran back to the court, fed up with himself as he thought that he might not be better than Kuroba today. That was when it happened.

“Hit the ball, Kuroba!”

Haijima shouted. His carrying voice suddenly pierced through the court where all talking had decreased, and everyone on his own team was startled.

As in the first round, the set flew from Kanno to Kuroba. Almost as if by spinal reflex, Kuroba suddenly did a run-up and leapt. Haijima blocked it perfectly.

However, this time as well, Kuroba’s spike didn’t even go over the net before it was blocked.

They both landed on the floor at the same time, the net between them. Right then,

“Stop screwing around!”

Haijima kicked the floor right after he yelled that, and then barged into the other court from under the net and tackled Kuroba. At this unbelievable situation, Oda froze in the receive stance, unable to move. It’s different for baseball game broadcasts, but I’ve never seen a brawl at a volleyball game, and I didn’t think he was the type to lose his temper like that!?

Everyone on his own team was dumbfounded, and everyone on the other team jumped out of the way, startled. After blowing Kuroba all the way to the center of the court, Haijima immediately went to straddle him and grabbed him up by the collar as Kuroba was hitting his back and coughing.

“Don’t run away! At least give one decent shot! If you’re this nervous for just a ballgame tournament, you’re not cut out for this, so just quit!”

He was yelling at him, looking like he was about to bite his nose off.

Kuroba’s back lifted off the floor.

“Hey…stop it, Haijima!”

Oda came to his senses and hurriedly passed under the net.

Right when he was about to pin Haijima’s arms behind his back, Kanno wedged himself in between them and said, “Senpai.” While keeping Oda back, Kanno looked at the referee’s stand. Oda widened his eyes and looked up at the stand, where he saw Aoki leaning against the top of the pole and grinning down at the two first-years on the floor.

“If they had just one big fist fight and told each other how they really felt…” Their conversation in the washroom flashed across his mind.

Hah!? No way, don’t tell me you were expecting this!?

Kuroba, who he thought was just going to let this happen, surprisingly grabbed Haijima’s wrist and yelled back.

“I’ve never been in a game where I had to lose successfully, and I don’t know how to do that, so of course I’m not cut out for this!”

“What are you talking about…”

Haijima was speechless. Kuroba, hesitating to say further, glared at Haijima at point-blank range as he moved his lips soundlessly. Then, he suddenly cast down his eyes, drew in his chin, and pressed his fist that was grabbing the front of Haijima’s chest to his forehead. It looked like a gesture of prayer.

“…’Cause, he said that you’d come back if we lost… Hey, isn’t this enough… Come back already…”

Come back already.

Those were words that Oda couldn’t think of or say in his position. They made him realize he didn’t need any pretense, and that all he needed was such clumsy, straightforward words.

Haijima, having lost his outlet for anger, just looked bewildered. His face, looking like those straightforward words didn’t penetrate his stubborn heart very well, made Oda irritated again.

“Hai…”

Right when he was about to interject, unable to keep quiet anymore,

Beep!

“Oh, you guys done yet? It looks like you guys pretty much said it all.”

A fake cough and Aoki’s voice, dampening the tension, came down from the referee’s stand.

“If that’s the case, the two of you, leave the court.”

He said, calmly holding up a red card.

“Fighting in volleyball is unheard of. And freshmen, don’t say that this is just a ballgame tournament, because this is a lively event that I worked myself to the bone to prepare for without sleeping. They really do need to pay me for this.”

***

After seeing the overall results at the administration tent with his own eyes, he returned to the gym. The gym, where the partition net was removed and cleanup had ended, was empty, but the net and poles still remained on only the stage-side court where the boys’ volleyball match had taken place. It was as if only the net wouldn’t admit that the match was over. The enthusiasm for the finals that had engulfed the court had now been cooled by the evening air, and he suddenly felt lonely.

There was a figure standing before the net. Like the net in front of them, it seemed like they still wanted to continue the match. Well, he was kicked off the court after doing one set, so I guess I can’t blame him for wanting to rampage more. The taping on his hands hanging down on the sides of his body still haven’t been undone yet.

“Haijima.”

Though his back reacted slightly to his call, he didn’t attempt to turn around. He goes at his own pace, eh. Oda smiled wryly as he approached him.

“They didn’t put the net away?”

“I asked them to leave it. I’ll put it away.”

Just like on the first day of team practice one week ago, Haijima lifted his chin and looked straight at the white band of the net. The sunlight shining through the window weakened and it dimmed considerably in the gym, but he could see a light in his eyes. A dazzling light that welled up within Haijima, as though he couldn’t contain his feelings of dissatisfaction.

“This wasn’t set up at 2.4?”

“Oh, we only raise it to 2.43 at the finals. ‘Cause it’s a game full of experienced players.”

With his hand on the net, stroking it sideways, Oda walked to the edge of the court and put his hand on the pole. Since the protective mat was removed, his palm touched the cold metal directly. The surface of the old bronze-colored pole was rough with copper rust stuck to it.

“We’re going to a family restaurant for the team’s afterparty, so meet us at the school gate at six-thirty. Don’t worry, us third-years are paying.”

“Please don’t count me in.”

He was given an annoyed reply. There are still not enough reasons? Oda sighed. Even though it’s so obvious that he’s longing to play volleyball, what exactly is holding him back? Is there something else besides the Monshiro Middle incident? This guy who’s fundamentally arrogant and seems to not care about other people’s feelings is clearly afraid that something is going to happen.

“You know, volleyball really is a sport that chooses people. Well, what you do in it depends on the person. It’s not a sport where you can carry the ball by yourself, and even if one person is skilled, you can’t win. I’ve told you this before. Remember it.”

“I got kicked in my ass.”

Since Haijima was pouting with a bitter look on his face, a laugh unintentionally slipped out of his mouth as he recalled it. He immediately stopped when Haijima was getting more and more sullen.

“There’s also the fact that the difference in our sizes frankly makes me cry. It’s a cruel story, isn’t it. No matter how hard a guy like me works, even if I think I won’t lose in athletic ability, skill, attitude, or anything, I just can’t beat a big guy in that one factor, height. Why did I fell for volleyball, of all things?”

Too many of the words people hurled at him came from his own mouth. When he explained it to people, they made doubtful faces and couldn’t sympathize with him very much, so these days he had learned to ignore that kind of talk. Aoki wouldn’t understand this much either. They might show their understanding for me, but they wouldn’t have any sympathy for me.

Haijima didn’t worry over his answer. He tilted his head, as though thinking,　This guy’s asking something weird, and stated it definitively. He said it like he was talking about the completely natural activities of living beings, like saying,　Don’t calves stand up after they’re born?

“Isn’t it because there’s nothing more interesting than volleyball?”

Aah…I knew it.

I had a feeling he’d say that. What’s for us, the very simple truth of the world.

I wanted words from someone other than me. I wanted someone to affirm to me that it’s okay for even someone like me to be devoted to something. If a man with much more talent than me, who possibly loves volleyball more than me, said that to me, then I can believe that the time I dedicated to volleyball was never a waste.

Is there anything in this world that is as interesting as this, that can make me as passionate as this? The exhilaration when you release a powerful spike. The feeling of solidarity when a brilliant combination play is executed. The sense of accomplishment when you persevere and break away a rally with your teammates. The feeling of conquest when you force the opponent’s ace to yield with a kill block. That intoxication, when your concentration is at its peak and the team’s hearts are one, and you can clearly see the ball’s trajectory as an unbroken line——

Something hot welled up in his throat, and he suddenly felt like crying. But, it was too early for that. He still hadn’t accomplished anything yet.

So he bared his teeth and smiled instead.

“That so? Well, for me, I love volleyball to death. It’s the only thing where I’m confident that I won’t lose to anyone.”

It was funny that Haijima countered with an extremely serious expression, “I won’t lose either.”

“…Haijima. To be honest, it was for my convenience that I wanted you to join. I’m a third year now. Even so, I want to play as many games on the court as possible, even if it’s just one game. Even if it’s just for a day…even just for a minute, just a second, I wanna play volleyball. Can I borrow your strength for that reason? All of your strength…”

Wouldn’t I get the opposite result with that way of talking? No, it’s fine. These words shouldn’t make Haijima build a wall around himself. He seems to be terribly stoic to me and everyone else, but he won’t reject someone who’s facing volleyball seriously. Ultimately, it wasn’t about whether you were skilled or not, or whether you were tall or short. Whether you are serious about volleyball or not—that was the only line Haijima drew.

That’s why there was no reason to hesitate to step in. I’m holding the key to the door.

He really felt like he was gripping a small key in his right hand. Of course, when he opened his palm, there was no key actually there. However, he turned to Haijima and held out his hand as though to show it to him.

“Won’t you believe in me, Haijima?”

Haijima was silent for a while, staring at Oda’s hand with downcast eyes. He loosened his tied lips.

“…Spring Inter-High.”

A whisper slipped from his mouth.

“…You’re serious about going there, I see. A weak team that has never won a proper game within the prefecture is aiming for it, thinking they can seriously go there. The 2.43 meter net is for that reason, I see.”

Those eyes with a sharpness that seemed to pierce through anything before them were directed towards Oda’s face. He was surprised that something he only mentioned briefly a week ago seemed to have remained in Haijima’s mind. However, he was also convinced that just showed how strong his feelings were. By all rights, he shouldn’t be the kind of athlete who was stuck smouldering in a place like this.

He wasn’t saying it in a way that was making fun of him. On the contrary, if he was the one who poked fun at him even slightly or was ambiguous in his answer, he would without a doubt slap his hand away on the spot.

Neither deception nor half-hearted seriousness was allowed in front of this guy.

“Yeah. Now, all the actors are in place. I seriously believe that this year’s Seiin will definitely become a team that can go to Nationals.”

Oda also looked back into Haijima’s eyes with a piercing gaze and answered.

If you take this hand, I will have to meet your expectations with all my power. I’ll repeat it again with force in order to convey that resolve. There’s no need for complicated reasons. I’m sure that only straightforward words would reach his heart.

“I want you to believe in me. Lend me all of your strength.”

***

“Why the hell are you smiling? Did Haijima say he was going to join?”

Aoki jeered at him when he stopped by the administration tent. Am I smiling? Oda wondered, patting his cheeks. He might be.

“Who knows. Well, he’ll be coming to the next practice, won’t he?”

“Hoo. Personally, I don’t like it, but well, that’s good I guess.”

Aoki said that in a twisted and unstraightforward way. Oda, while wondering in astonishment, Weren’t you the one who set this up?, dragged a free folding chair over and sat diagonally across from Aoki. He leaned over the long table, thrusted his face at him and lowered his face, as though it was an interrogation in a detective drama.

“So, from when and how much of it all was within your calculations? Since you brought up that betting match in front of Kuroba, right? Since you stirred me up by saying you were more interested in Okuma than Haijima? No way, you’re not gonna say you were the one who arranged for Haijima to be in volleyball, are you? I don’t think it’s possible, but does that mean the ballgame tournament itself is a huge charade…”

“I must be the world’s greatest swindler then. You’re giving me too much credit. Originally, I planned to have Team F win the championship, and I wanted to go to the lodging house on the refreshing highlands and getting Haijima while we’re at it…that was all I was thinking. Well, the dream of the highlands lodging house is completely gone now. I really did want to go there.”

All but one of the administration tents that were lined up with their eaves side by side in a corner of the first sports ground were dismantled, and the lower grade members of the executive committee were clearing away the steel frames and sheets while bickering noisily. All of their voices had a listlessness to them, like they had finished burning, and they didn’t sound grating to his ears. Rather, the noise soaked pleasantly into his tired body.

On the grounds, members of the baseball club were doing somersaults. The clock tower behind the back net displayed the time of 6:15. The brightness of the sky dimmed, and grey clouds started to appear. According to the forecast, apparently it was still going to be clear during the day, but the rainy season was going to return during the night. There was the scent of approaching rain. The warm wind, which contained moisture, made his arms and body sticky again after his sweat had finally receded.

The uncoated paper with the overall results for today was posted on the tent’s support. If he thought that there was more enthusiasm about this year’s championship than last year, there was apparently a secret prize that was going to be given to the supreme general of the winning team. The contributor was the executive committee—of course Aoki was the one who was holding the wallet. That prize was the group accommodation at a lodging house on a highland area in the prefecture for summer vacation. It was a form of taking advantage of the fact that the captains of the major sports clubs were spread out across each of the third year classes and stirring up the competition between each team.

In the boys’ volleyball division, Oda’s Team F defeated Team C to win the championship. The referee Aoki’s blatant support for Team C in the first half was camouflage, and after ejecting the two first-years, he devoted himself to making fair and impartial judgements in the second half—or that was how it seemed. Skillfully weaving in a few advantageous judgements for Team F, he manipulated the outcome. He’s a crook through and through…but since it’s a school event, I can just barely forgive him, but if he pulled this kind of thing somewhere else, I’ll be done with him.

However, they didn’t perform so well in the other events, and in the end, Team F had to settle for second place overall. The guesthouse on the highlands was to be given over to another club.

“Aaah, I guess we’ll have to do it at school this summer too. It’ll be harsh without air conditioning though.”

“You know, you’re pretty practical even though you don’t look it…”

“Dunno what you mean by not looking practical, but I’ll accept the compliment. Well, the things you can get with cheap tricks aren’t that important, and there are plenty of things you can’t get...” a loud yawn slipped out from his wide mouth.

“Are you going to the after party? The first and second-years worked hard today, so we gotta thank them.”

“Sorry, but I’ll have to pass. I don’t mind splitting the money in half. I didn’t sleep for three days to finish up preparations.”

“Three days? And yet you managed to get in two games.”

“It’d be tough to do three games. When the old teacher collapsed, I thought in my head, ‘I’m saved.’”

He leaned back deeply on his folding chair, causing it to creak, and when he bent his neck and tilted it left and right, there was a cracking sound. Though he wondered if it was okay to speak that way about an elderly person, it seemed that after he rested in the infirmary for nearly an hour, he had readily recovered and went along with the teachers to their after-party, so perhaps it was okay for Aoki to say that, considering all his toil.

During this ball game tournament, which included preparations, while Oda was just saying he wanted Haijima like a spoiled brat, just how hard was Aoki working, even using his influence, for the sake of the whole team? When it came to Haijima, even though he wasn’t supposed to have agreed to it, he considered Oda’s feelings and took action like it was a matter of course. It had completely slipped from his mind, but it was time to think about summer training camps.

Since they knocked on the door of the boys’ volleyball club in April two years ago, he had helped him one-sidedly until now. The prodigy who had student council duties, and who on top of that could get accepted to Kyoto University, probably had any number of things he could do besides volleyball, unlike Oda. He felt a deep sense of guilt that because he invited him that day—because they were “Aoki” and “Oda”, an unexpected intrusion ended up coming into Aoki’s life.

“Ah, hey…thanks for everything…”

It was too embarrassing to say it now after two years, and he couldn’t look him in the eyes. He was grateful for the gap between their lines of sight right then. Every time he was covered for, it only deepened his own sense of inferiority, and he had never thanked him face-to-face until now.

Good grief, it’s not just my outside, I’m also tiny and worthless on the inside.

“But, sorry…you’re going to have to go along with my selfishness for just a little longer.”

His debt would increase even more in the future. It seemed that Aoki won’t be able to concentrate on his exams for a while yet.

“…That’s just like you.”

Aoki mumbled to himself, his head still turned away. From Oda’s position, he could only see his chin moving slightly, and he had no idea what expression he had on his face.

“You’re giving me too much credit. I’m feeling guilty now. Playing volleyball with you is what I want to do right now, and I’m not doing it unwillingly. I don’t need to be thanked at all. I’ve been saying this since before, but me not liking Haijima is completely my personal feelings, and I’m the one who’s just being selfish. I don’t really care about going to university or not, and I don’t mind if you want me to lower my rank so we can go to the same place…I’m basically just driven by my ulterior motives.”

“Ulterior motives?”

There was the sound of water drops hitting the roof of the tent. The people working outside the tent looked up at the sky and exclaimed, “It’s starting to rain?”

“…You don’t have to understand.”

Aoki raised his head slowly, like a giraffe stretching its neck to find leaves that were just right, and stifled another yawn. Then, he turned towards him and lifted the edge of his mouth.

“Let’s go to Spring Inter-High. I’ll follow you until the end.”

For Oda, that thin, ironic smile was more reliable and trustworthy than anything.

The prefectural preliminaries would start at the end of September, two months later. If they won there, his retirement would be extended until the final representative deciding match in November. And if they managed to win the representative deciding match, then it would be until the nationals in January——. Just one game more. Just a day, a minute, a second longer. In order to delay the “end” just a little bit longer, they third-years would clumsily make every effort with all their ability.

When the rainy season ended, their final summer would arrive. There was no doubt that that summer would be like a condensed version of the rest of their lives after graduation. His doubts about his career path cleared up. He would put all he had into everything he could do and wanted to do right now. He didn’t care if the next few decades would be the rest of his life. Even if he burned out here and had nothing left within him, he wouldn’t regret it now.

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#2.43: Seiin Koukou Danshi Volley-bu #2.43 book 1 #2.43 translation #2.43: seiin high school boys volleyball club #2.43

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presumenothing · 6 years

Text

superhero confidential [#4]

[ marvel au ]

<< PAGE 4 >>

AS THE AVENGERS TAKE TURNS TO explain afterwards, the last part of what I saw earlier is the latest in their attempts to figure out ways to minimise the collateral damage when they fight.

In this case, it's very much a simulated scenario: Cap and Iron Lady against the remaining three acting as invading hostiles, with the mass of robots standing in for any surrounding civilians.

"It's not the most realistic of situations, of course," says Miyano-san, her expression tight, as she calls up a bank of screens – non-holographic, this time – that show playbacks of their practice fight from various angles. "But we can't level a city every time we do this, and the robots are calibrated to register the equivalent level of damage an average human would sustain."

They spend nearly a full hour picking over the footage and working out ways to cover any gaps. Ran-san remains mostly quiet during this process, which I chalk up to her not actively being in the field as an Avenger, although she does offer suggestions at several points.

Despite their frequent barbs at each other, Miyano-san and Kudo-san actually work surprisingly well together both on and off the battlefield – the playback shows only the rare attack from the other three making it through even with their combined efforts. But, as I gather from the discussion, they're focusing on the big picture, with the end goal of avoiding another inadvertent disaster the next time they fight.

"It's not gonna be easy. Might not even be possible, with the kind of firepower we need ta take down our usual kind of threats," says Hattori-san with uncharacteristic grimness. "But we can't not try."

The sentiment is obviously echoed by the rest, and the mood is still somber when we finally break for dinner.

Kudo-san and Ran-san decide to stay for a quiet night in, while I go with the others to an udon place nearby.

It's my last hour with the Avengers – or so I think, at least. I can't help wondering what's going to come of it.

FOLLOWING THE SHIELD DATA LEAK ONLINE, several dedicated dataminers tracked down footage from the past decade – down to shaky handphone video from several major earthquakes – that show the recognisable silhouette of a winged figure swooping down to the literal rescue.

This is, of course, offset by the recent Vine clip of the very same figure rescuing a litter of kittens stuck improbably high up in a tree too withered to climb in an area too densely-packed for a firetruck ladder.

"Not everything is about saving the world, ya know?" was Hattori-san's statement on the viral video when it was brought up at a press conference.

"At least I can say I did it for the Vine," he adds now, when I ask him about it as we're waiting for our noodles.

"And the kittens," says Toyama-san, before dropping to a stage whisper. "He got so attached to them that he cried when we had to give them away."

"Did n– I almost cried. Only almost," he emphasises.

Toyama-san pats him on the shoulder, commiserating. "Of course. They were very cute kittens."

"With very sharp claws, as well." Miyano-san's words are, perhaps predictably enough, completely unsympathetic – at least, if one forgets about the considerable number of animal shelter fundraisers that Iron Lady has put in appearances at, over many other worthwhile causes. "Perhaps I should start billing you for suit repairs in these events?"

"Or build in a collapsible cat carrier," chimes in Toyama-san.

Hattori-san makes a wounded noise of apparent offense – but fortunately for the tattered shreds of his dignity, our food chooses that moment to arrive.

Which brings us to the next part of the entertainment for this evening.

WE'RE HALFWAY THROUGH WHAT CLEARLY feels like a oft-repeated spiel from Hattori-kun on the superiority of udon soup in Kansai when someone reaches out to tap on Toyama-san's shoulder.

"Your black jacket's on the back of my couch," she says without looking up from her noodles, as I do a double-take at the newcomer's uncanny resemblance to one Kudo Shinichi.

Not-Kudo-san – who I'm belatedly realising must be Kuroba Kaito, codename Hawkeye, designated archer of the original group of Avengers – pulls a face. "Darn. I was wondering where I'd left it. And can't you even let me sneak up on you once?"

"Nope!" Toyama-san answers cheerfully, glancing up only to bat her eyelashes at him. "I think not stabbing ya when ya try it is good enough, don't ya think? And stop leavin' your clothes at my place, jeez."

"Well, I can't help that we both wear black, it's confusing!" Kuroba-san waves as if he's just noticed me, although I highly doubt that's the case. "Hi, don't mind me, I'm not Cap – "

"Not what you try to convince half the people we meet of," Miyano-san remarks with a raised eyebrow.

"Ain't my fault if they don't watch the news, y'know." Kuroba-san shrugs, already turning to leave, though he pauses to tug at the bow in Toyama-san's ponytail. "Don't wait up for me, honey!"

She slaps at his hands irritably. "Ya mean I'd better not see yer ugly mug before midnight, Kuroba!"

"I'm not Cinderella!" he retorts over one shoulder. "And I'll tell Kudo that you said his face was ugly!"

"What, so he can agree?" she snipes back.

The sheer and obvious familiarity of this routine makes me flick my gaze over to my other dinner companions quickly with an unspoken question: are they – ?

Miyano-san rolls her eyes in response. "No, they're just always like this. Apparently normal methods of communication are too much to ask for, around here."

"Rich of ya of all people to talk, neechan," says Hattori-san. "But yeah, lotsa people who meet them make the same mistake. They're certainly idiot enough to match, anyhow."

"People, ya say?" repeats Toyama-san, with sudden glee.

"Shut up," mutters Hattori-san in retaliation, visibly reddening even under his dark skin.

My reporter senses pick up a definite story there, but before I can poke around any further there's a sudden scream from outside the restaurant.

There's what seems like a collective sigh across the table, but barely any hesitation to match.

"Go, we'll cover the bill and find ya later," says Toyama-san with a wave, though Hattori-san's already half on his feet before she's finished.

He runs off at a fast clip, catching the attention of other patrons and leaving me to stare at the remaining two at the table with confusion. "What – ?"

"Remember the weird stuff I told ya about this morning?" Toyama-san says with a slight wince. "Yeah, something like that."

It seems that I'm getting an answer to the question I didn't ask, after all.

"We'll head over in ten minutes. People tend to freak out when too many Avengers arrive at the same time, for some reason," Miyano-san adds, voice glacier dry with irony.

"Means there's still time for dessert?" Toyama-san declares hopefully.

BY THE TIME I ARRIVE alongside the remaining two Avengers, we find Hattori-san deep in conversation with Kudo-san, and officers from Beika's Division One already corralling the gathering crowd at the scene. The portly figure of inspector Megure Juzo is visible behind a cordon of police tape, alongside several of his senior detectives.

"Looks pretty serious," Toyama-san observes in an undertone. It's easy to forget how distinctive the Osakan accent she shares with Hattori-san is until it drops away, leaving her to sound just like any other Tokyo native.

"Double homicide, it seems." Beside me, Miyano-san has her handphone out, and is flicking between screens – SNS feeds and others that pass too quickly for me to catch. "I'll notify the others, you go ahead."

Toyama-san tugs the hood of her dark grey jacket up, and slips into the crowd with barely a nod.

The Avengers do indeed have a protocol for such events, it seems. I probably shouldn't be surprised about any of this – but I am, nevertheless.

Miyano-san finishes tapping out one last message on her phone and looks up, eyes narrowing as she glances around. I wonder what she sees.

I wonder what each of them see, really.

More than any other of today's encounters (planned or unplanned) this last incident is what firmly brings home the reality of the people behind the heroes. That they chose the lives they lead now has made as much of a difference to us as to them, and it is a decision deserving of credit where it is due, much as that seems to be forgotten of late.

IT'S JUST OVER TWO HOURS LATER when the case gets resolved. I stay with Miyano-san on the periphery of the crowd for the most of it, having declined her offer to have someone bring my car around from the Tower. There's a dicey moment when the final suspect tries to make a run for it, but a swift cement-breaking kick of a trashcan lid right into his path quickly dissuades that notion.

Toyama-san reappears from seemingly nowhere soon after, the two apparent detectives following along in her wake. The intent seriousness from earlier has dissipated, leaving what could've just as easily been a group of old friends out for a late-night outing in the hubbub of Tokyo.

Kudo-san, I learn, had literally just stepped out from the Tower to buy a pint of ice-cream.

"It's statistically improbable, yeah, running into a murder on your grocery run," he agrees, wincing, as we wait for our respective elevators.

Hattori-san loops a friendly arm around his shoulder. "No one introduce ya to online shopping yet, Kudo? Delivers right to yer doorstep."

"Looks who's calling the kettle black," Kudo-san mutters with a snort. "At least it wasn't another alien incident this time."

"Or an actual skeleton horde, of course," says Hattori-san.

There's a collective groan from all the assembled Avengers.

"Catnip. In your suit lining," I hear Miyano-san warn in a distinctly menacing voice, followed by Toyama-san's "I'll take the video!" in jarringly cheerful tones.

Hattori-san gulps nervously just as the elevator door closes.

It's a memorable end to my day with the Avengers, all told.

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#detective conan #hattori heiji #toyama kazuha #miyano shiho #kuroba kaito #kudo shinichi #fanfiction #mine #marvel au #i know literally no one cares a damn about this part but i gotta..... finish it #it shall be done

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