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seiin-translations · 2 years

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2.43 S2 Chapter 1.7 - The Laughing King and Crybaby Jack (Part 7)

7. SUPERHERO

I’m gonna be taking a little break after this, hopefully be back soon

Translation Notes

1. “Hidebu” is a meme from Fist of the North Star where the villains say “Hidebu” (It hurts) when they get blown up, since according to the author, because the villains are in the process of exploding, the vocal sounds get shifted

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Pick up the ball, transfer it, and send it back. The other team also picked up the ball, transferred it, and sent it back. This was the most basic of basics in volleyball. Since the rule was to return the ball to the opponent’s court within three hits, this was called first touch, second touch, and third touch, in that order.

However, in the practice match between Fukuho Tech and Seiin, the two teams suddenly began a fierce exchange of blows right from the start of the first set. Right after the ball was served and play began, it ended with a spike shot, so it couldn’t be called a “rally.” For a moment, Ochi forgot the definition of the volleyball term “rally.”

The game began with Seiin’s serve, 0-0. The receiving team, Fukuho, had the first chance to attack, and Takasugi’s quick attack that served as a greeting made the score 1-0.

Seiin, with a quick attack by Aoki, quickly returned the greeting with a point to make it 1-1.

At this rate, in the early game, the teams were fighting for side outs (acquiring the right to serve) one point at a time, like a metronome counting beats with a pendulum motion. The first year members of the Fukuho team, who were attached to the scoring staff, were confused because they couldn’t keep up with the dizzying pace of the game. The next point would be scored while the other team’s score was being turned over, so that when the referee pointed at them with a “point, point!” they would rush to turn over the other team’s score. Since Hata was supervising the Fukuho side, the chief referee was a Fukuho alumnus who had volunteered to help coach the team.

“I’m hoping to break out three rotations from here…”

Hata, sitting in a folding chair next to Ochi, muttered as he fixed his gaze on the court.

12-12. There were twenty-five points in a set, so this was the midgame of the set. It felt as if the time from the starting whistle to this point had passed in a flash. The rallies were short, so the actual time elapsed was also unusually short.

When the receiving team scored a point and the right to serve was transferred, that was called a side out. In six-player volleyball, the six players from the scoring team rotated clockwise around the court at each side out. When a player came to the back right, he became the server, and from there he rotated to the back center, back left, front left, front center, and front right, in that order. Only the three players in the front row could block or spike near the net. While players were in the back row, they couldn’t participate in blocking and could only spike from the back zone behind the attack line (the line three meters from the net).

Both teams were just now back at their starting points after two rotations at twelve points. Fukuho’s rotation was to score points with Mimura moving up to the front left and Fukuho’s main left attack. From clockwise, Takasugi was at front center, Yanome at front right, and Tokura, Asamatsu, and Kakegawa in the back, in that order, but Asamatsu’s place was now occupied by Saruwatari, the libero. The libero was a special position in the the back row, and they could replace any of the players who have retreated to the back row to strengthen the receives. When Saruwatari moved up to the front row after the rotation, Asamatsu took his place to make the height of the front row even.

The position of wing spiker was the mainstay of the offensive, primarily attacking from the side of the front row. Even when they were in the back row, they participated in the offensive with back attacks. The wing spiker also had the important job of serve receiving along with the libero. In a typical formation, three players were placed on the court. Since right-handed players were often better at hitting from the left side, the left spiker was basically the ace in high school volleyball.

Two middle blockers were placed on the court, and as the name suggested, they played the key role of blocking, and when attacking, they were involved in the attack of the wing spiker, who quickly attacked from the center and hit from the side.

And the final person, the setter—the command center that controlled the offensive.

Setter Kakegawa used Takasugi, who was jumping in the center, as a decoy and set the ball to Mimura in the left. Seiin’s front row was composed of the 184cm Kuroba, 191cm Aoki, and 181cm Haijima.

Mimura’s powerful spike was blocked by the three and it was knocked straight down.

A shudder ran through Fukuho’s side. Seiin broke through before them—!?

Ochi and Hata simultaneously let out an “Ah!” and rose from their seats. The ball bounced under the net and tangled with Mimura’s legs, causing him to fall on his buttocks. It made them feel a chill.

Still sitting down, Mimura suddenly looked up at the referee stand.

The referee made a gesture that indicated that the ball fell on Seiin’s side and nodded to Mimura. The point was Fukuho’s.

“A ‘waterfall’…?”

Ochi let out a sigh of relief. He lost sight of it for a moment, but the ball hadn’t bounced back, instead falling through the gap between Seiin’s blockers and the net. Fukuho was relieved, while Seiin’s back row, who had been looking pleased, now looked despondent.

It was now 13-12, with twenty-five consecutive side outs.

“This match is bad on my heart…To think that a practice match would shorten my lifespan.”

Hata groaned, looking as if he had aged about five years. But then he sank his raised bottom back down on his chair.

“That’s fine! Don’t get impatient and close it!”

He made a megaphone with his hand and shouted at the court. The “champion” would only get his opponents warmed up if he showed impatience at such an early stage against a lower-ranked opponent.

“How many points has Subaru made?”

“Twelve hits and ten points.”

Ochi looked down at his scorebook and replied. Fukuho’s thirteen points so far consisted of ten points for Mimura, one point for Takasugi, and two points from Seiin’s mistake.

In this set, Mimura handled far more than 50% of the spikes by Fukuho. Tokura, who was diagonal to him in the rotation and was in the back left, wasn’t very energetic today, and he was quieter than usual.

There was no doubt that what Ochi said before the game had been bugging him. On the court, Mimura went out of his way to say something to Tokura and they exchanged a low-five.

What’s with a manager who’s dragging his players down, really… It only resulted in more stuff for Mimura to have to patch up.

In contrast to Fukuho, which was an open volleyball team with a great ace named Mimura, Seiin could be called a combination volleyball team. In open volleyball, the team assumed that they would be held up by blocks and relied on the spiking ability of their aces to use many open sets (high third-tempo sets). In contrast, in combination volleyball, the team used multiple spikers to combine their attacks and get around the blocks.

And in combination volleyball, the power of the setter who was the flagbearer was indispensable.

Haijima’s set work was remarkable. He freely scattered his sets, which combined accuracy and speed at an astonishingly high level, to unleash combination attacks in all directions and at all corners. The team used time delays and quick attacks in annoying ways to prevent Fukuho’s blocks from homing in. The spiker used a quick attack as a decoy to draw the block, and another spiker jumped with a slight time difference to hammer in the spike. This was called a time delay attack. The team used time delay attacks continuously, and as soon as they saw that Fukuho’s blocks were getting dragged down by the time delay, they quickly had the middle do a quick attack. There was also a broad attack that forced the right spiker, Kanno, to hit from the edge of the right side, and Fukuho’s block had yet to catch up with it.

“I think we’re too concentrated around Subaru. Seiin uses both their middle and right equally.”

It reminded him of what Haijima said the other day. You don’t have to be so reluctant. He got the impression that they really weren’t being reluctant. They changed hands from one to the next so quickly as if saying, You still have it? This was rude to Kakegawa, but he had never seen a match where he felt such a difference in setters.

“Well…that might be so, but Subaru himself is still wanting to hit the ball.”

Hata jerked his chin at Mimura, who was facing Kakegawa and pointing at his own chest.

“Seiin’s first year is a terrifying setter. Even though he played for a strong Tokyo team, I thought it was just middle school level in the end, but…if Kakegawa is influenced by that monster and starts doing things he can’t do, our rhythm would get messed up. It’s okay for them to gather around Subaru for now.”

“Yes, but isn’t that too much burden on Subaru…”

“He’ll definitely be able to manage. He’s the ace of Fukuho.”

Hata, who had been lifting his hips up and down with each point, now sat back, folded his arms, and stared at the court. He felt as if he understood that Mimura was a hero to Hata as well. Mimura would laugh at the expectations from an adult who was more than twice his age…like a little kid who never doubted the victory of a TV hero.

The back-and-forth match resumed with a tension that made it hard to believe this was just a practice match. Break…Ochi stared at the court with feelings of prayer. The team that broke first and disrupted the balance would probably take the set.

In volleyball, the serve-receiving side had a higher chance of scoring next. This wasn’t surprising, since the side that received the serve had the first chance to score a spike. Compared to women’s volleyball, who tended to pick up spikes and continued the rally, men were especially likely to score on the first spike.

In other words, the key to staying ahead of your opponent and pulling more points away was to be able to "break” (score consecutively) when you were on the serving side.

Seiin’s two front row spikers were currently Aoki and Kuroba, but Oda and Kanno in the back row also had their back attacks. Which one of them would be used by Haijima?

Haijima, who was tall, jump-set the receive that rose high up above the net. The ball was drawn to his fingertips as though it had strings attached to it—

And then his left hand turned over, and the next moment the ball bounced up on Fukuho’s court.

From the jump-set position, he turned his wrist above the net and launched a sharp, cutting setter attack. It caught everyone by surprise, and no one on the court was able to react. And it was as strong as a spiker’s spike—come to think of it, he’s ambidextrous!

“Kaaaah…we’re done for. He could do that…”

Hata scratched his head as though to say, I give up.

A setter attack because the setter himself attacked with the second shot without giving the third shot to the spiker. Since the setter usually hit with his left hand, the setter attack of a left-handed or ambidextrous setter was as much a weapon as a spike. Ochi didn’t forget that Haijima was stated to be ambidextrous in his profile. However, since he had only been focused on his skillful set work, he didn’t expect that to be used here.

“Don’t be so reluctant.” Goosebumps rose on his right arm, which was resting on the scorebook. He rubbed his right arm with his left hand.

It was a rotation where it was decided that Haijima would move back to serve. As seen in the video, he had a terrifying left-handed jump serve that just grazed the net.

Saruwatari hit the power serve that almost resulted in a service ace, and the ball bounced up with a rubbery crack. However, it didn’t return to Kakegawa. “Alright!” Yanome ran under the ball with his hands raised in the air.

“Bring it to the left!”

Mimura, waiting in the left side, loudly called for the ball to be set to him.

The ball was set high across the court to Mimura. There was no decoy or anything, so there was a three-person block firmly in front of Mimura.

Subaru, please—!

Ochi also put his feelings into the ball, which carried the feelings of everyone on the court.

Mimura leapt, sinking the three joints of his lower body deeply and releasing all the energy stored in his legs at once. His 189cm height transformed into a flexible yet strong bow in midair. He swung his arm out with powerful force, as if he were drawing a nocked arrow to its very limit and releasing it. His spike exploded from an astonishingly high point, far above the 193cm Aoki’s block.

The three-person block was now removed. Haijima did a dig (spike receive), but the ball bounced up and blew him away. The ball hit the gallery railing on the second floor and the air shook with the loud metallic sound.

That guy snatched away a point with that incredible feat…!

Mimura sank to both knees and landed just short of the center line. He raised his upper body slowly, as if he was slowly expelling the residue of his spirit from his body. There was a momentary pause, as if the taut strings were still trembling.

But when he turned around to look at his teammates,

“Yeah!”

He raised his fist with a broad grin on his face. Fukuho’s court—the bench, staff, and even the referee all shouted “Subaru!!” like they couldn’t help it.

Fukuho didn’t have an outstanding setter like Haijima. However, no matter how many people blocked them, no matter how difficult the situation was, they had an ace who could score points no matter what, which was what they wanted right now.

14-13. Fukuho’s formation rotated next, and Mimura moved towards the back row. They wanted to get a block point and break away while Mimura was in the front.

Quick attack, time delay, broad attack from the right, back attack—which would come next? Holding back even his blinks, Ochi chased the ball. Setting aside women’s matches, where rallies were long, men’s matches never needed such sustained concentration. While following the rapidly changing game, he had to keep his mind in full operation to read the next move.

The moment the ball touched the fingertips of both of Haijima’s hands, it was set with such skillful handling that it was impossible to follow with the eyes, and it passed to the left side. Kuroba jumped into the air with a bold leap reminiscent of Mimura in his freshman year.

But Mimura and Asamatsu were right on top of them. The seamless two-person block shut out the spike dead on, and the ball flew up in a triangular trajectory over Seiin’s court.

“Alright, we caught it!”

Not even half-rising from their seats, both Ochi and Hata finally rocked their chairs and stood up.

15-13. The long-awaited block points and consecutive points for Fukuho. They were finally pulling ahead…!

Mimura showed his fist to Haijima over the net, a provocative gesture that said, “I’m bringing you down.” Haijima widened his eyes, and then he narrowed them and glared at him. He didn’t seem shaken. His fighting spirit seemed to have increased.

Asamatsu took Mimura by his waist and carried him up to his shoulders. Together with the Subaru chant, everyone on the court flew towards him, forming a knot that crushed the laughing Mimura.

Ochi, too, was tempted to jump off the bench, but he picked up the clipboard he had dropped when he stood up and sat back down. They hadn’t won yet. He calmly recorded the score in his scorebook. The block point, the scorer’s number was “1”…they were all getting blurred in his vision. He hurriedly wiped his eyes so that Hata next to him wouldn’t notice.

However, he heard sniffling next to him.

“Sensei…this is a practice match…”

When he calmly quipped to try to cover up his own teary eyes, Hata gave him a good chop and said, “Just pretend you didn’t see it. You get easily moved to tears when you’re past forty.”

They barely pulled ahead in the midgame by one point. However, it was a point of great significance. Haijima and Kuroba, the freshman ace duo who were creating the momentum for Seiin, were brought down.

Mimura was not about to let go of the edge of the flow that had finally been seized. The teams scrambled for another point to make it 16-14, and it looked like the back-and-forth match was about to resume, but then came Mimura’s turn to serve.

After spinning the ball between his hands, he stood with his right hand gripping the ball next to his body. It was his habit to touch his right shoulder with his left hand and pull up his sleeve slightly. He had the calm to look around with a small smile on his face. His natural smile drew the atmosphere of the gym. Mimura controlled the atmosphere in order to make the entire venue his ally.

It was hard to believe that Mimura’s biorhythm had been declining since their elimination from Inter-High. He hadn’t seen Mimura this focused in a long time.

The ball was set high from a casual standing position, and a high power serve was unleashed that seemed to steal away Haijima’s specialty.

The ball was driven deep into Seiin’s court. Kuroba dropped down and tried to get it, but the ball hit him in the shoulder, flipped him over, and blew off to the second-floor gallery. This time, it dove over the railing and bounced around between the wall and the railing.

With that shot, a service ace!

“Subaru!!”

The gym erupted in war cry-like Subaru chant.

Once again, Fukuho scored consecutively, 17-14.

Slowly, Fukuho began to extend a lead over Seiin.

---

The score was 24-20. Saruwatari and Yanome dashed after the ball, which hit the block and bounced to the back of Fukuho’s court. Saruwatari changed the direction of the ball by hitting it with his hand, and Yanome caught up with him and sent the ball backward to his own team with a sort of backhanded throw. Asamatsu pushed the ball into Seiin’s court, but it was picked up by Seiin and a rally ensued. After the opening, in which spikes were made one by one without any rallies, rallies began to occur in the middle game.

At this point in the game, when Seiin would lose the set if one more point was scored, Haijima had Okuma do a quick attack. The ball flew into his hands, and Okuma himself exclaimed in surprised, “Whoa!?” as he hit the ball.

Ochi was also taken aback by the bold set work. However, the score was still 24-21. We can take this set. As he was thinking that and about to write down Seiin’s score in the scorebook…

Thud, thud, thud. The ground shook before his eyes. The ball hadn’t dropped to the ground yet. Mimura had thrown himself to the floor and plunged the back of his hand just barely into the gap between the floor and the ball.

“Saruwatari!”

“Yes, Captain!” When Mimura called out, Saruwatari was running over to follow up. He was leaning over Mimura as he received the ball, and it rose over Fukuho’s court.

Mimura yelled while being pinned under Saruwatari.

“Finish it, Kohei!”

Tokura was running underneath the ball, but had given up on spiking it back and was in position to return the chance ball to Seiin’s side. However, Mimura’s voice made him jump on the spot. It was a difficult spike from standing jump, but he put all his strength into it and hit the ball. The ball passed through Seiin’s block and landed in their court.

Even if they gave Seiin a point here, it wouldn’t have been a very painful loss. If they got a definitive side out next time, this set would have been over. And yet…how many times are you going to make me cry…

25-20. Fukuho took the lead in the first set.

Ochi couldn’t get up from the bench right away.

“Hey, manager. Don’t just sit there, we’re changing sides.”

Mimura crossed in front of the bench and put his hand on Ochi’s head. The reserve members in the warmup area were beginning to move around, carrying their belongings. They were exchanging benches with Seiin.

The court was filled with the heat of a final match that lasted until the full set. However, it was surprising to see that both teams hadn’t lost their concentration after the unusually intense first set, much less be exhausted. Both teams were moving their bodies and waiting eagerly for the next set to start.

On Fukuho’s side of the court, a circle was formed around Hata, and Mimura was sitting on the bench alone with a towel over his head. Ochi, running up to his team late, looked at him strangely.

“My part is over for today.”

He said from under the towel. He bent down and slid his knee supporters down to his ankles with a “heave-ho” feeling.

“I’ll leave the rest to Kohei. I’ve already talked to the coach.”

“Ah, oh…”

It was not uncommon for Mimura to not be fully used in practice matches, but today, he had assumed from the very beginning that he was going to play the full game. He was somewhat disappointed, which showed in his responses. “You look kinda dissatisfied. Your sour look increased by thirty percent,” Mimura laughed and took a sip from his drink bottle.

The words “Subaru only” were written on it in magic marker, and scribbles such as “Too sweet,” “Poisonous to humans,” and “Hidebu” (1) were added to it from various angles. Ochi could recognize who wrote each of them. Takasugi, Asamatsu, Saruwatari, Jinno…all the third year teammates. It was small, but Ochi’s was there as well.

He sat down next to Mimura with a scowl, thinking that he might as well increase his sour look by ten percent more.

“…Explain. Why are you suddenly motivated?”

Before the match, his biorhythm was low no matter how you looked at it, but when the match started, he suddenly kicked into high gear. If Mimura hadn’t led the way, they would have lost the set.

He wondered if it was what he said about how Seiin should go to Spring High if they lost just a practice match, which he seriously believed…then that just meant somewhere in his mind, he had high hopes that they wouldn’t lose even without Mimura.

“You were the one who said it. You said it’s unfair that Seiin has nothing to lose…it’s the opposite. How can those who have nothing to protect be stronger than me?”

The laughter in Mimura’s voice disappeared. His gaze that had drifted to Seiin’s bench became frighteningly sharp for a moment.

Seiin was in a circle with the captain, Oda, in the center. The old advisor was still sitting. Seiin only had one 175cm player in reserve, so they couldn’t pull back their ace like Fukuho. Fukuho, on the other hand, had the strength of the entire team, even if they had to leave Mimura out.

“I’m the captain of Fukuho, which can’t afford to lose its winning record, I’m the ace who is here to make that happen, I’m the prefecture’s MVP, and there are many people in the prefecture who are expecting great things from me. I have to take everyone who entrusted me with their dreams to the Nationals center court. The seniors who couldn’t make it there, everyone on the team, their families…as well as you, and the coach.”

He moved his eyes to Hata’s back, and his eyes softened slightly. In the first set, Hata had been standing firm as Mimura took charge, but now he was giving the players detailed instructions with full vigor.

The year Hata became the advisor to the Fukuho volleyball team, he approached Mimura, who was on his elementary school volleyball team, and waited for him to become a high school student, so the two’s relationship had been much longer than with the rest of the team. Although Mimura had an outstanding volleyball sense and an ace-like personality, he was an unknown quantity in terms of physique at that time. Even so, Hata saw in Mimura a future as an ace who could carry the prefecture.

“I’m talking about everyone, including the little kids who are playing volleyball in middle school or elementary school, looked at me and talked about how cool I am. I have so many things I have to protect and can’t let down that it’s ridiculous.”

Mimura laid out what Ochi had always thought but wondered if Mimura himself was aware of. Despite his naïve and simple character, he sometimes looked at himself objectively, to the point of feeling cold and indifferent.

When he counted them up out loud, he realized that a ridiculous number of expectations were placed on his shoulders. Not only children, but adults as well, all on the shoulders of a high school student at the tender age of seventeen.

“You’ve never fooled yourself, have you? Not even once…”

“It’s not a question of being foolish or not being foolish. You know, it’s because only I am me that I can make all those crazy expectations and responsibilities into my strength without being crushed by them. Oda’s a lucky guy. Last year he couldn’t even make it to the rookie tournament, but in his last year he’s blessed with a team like that. Number 8’s probably more talented than me. If he had played volleyball in Fukui from the beginning, he might be the one called the treasure of the prefecture.”

“That’s…”

Ochi faltered, almost giving an involuntary response. He was bitter about the burden placed on Mimura, but he also believed that the treasure of the prefecture should be none other than Mimura…a selfish contradiction.

When he couldn’t say anything, Mimura let out a small laugh, his shoulders rising up in amusement.

“And yet I’m the one who’s been the prefecture’s MVP for all these years. I’m the only one who has a huge source of energy they could never get even if they wanted it now. So, there’s no one stronger than me in the prefecture, right? That’s why I can’t lose to anyone.”

Ochi looked back dumbfoundedly at Mimura, who was smiling as he declared fearlessly.

What is this…

A slight sense of frustration and a hint of bitterness mingled together in his chest.

He doesn’t look like he’s about to be crushed by the burden at all. What the heck, I was so worried…

Even after three years of being with him, he still thought he was a mysterious guy. With his self-centered attitude guided by a strange positivity, he jumped over Ochi’s ideas with ease many times. The world that had become stagnant before his eyes was drastically rewritten, and a stairway full of light leading to the throne appeared.

And he thought…what a strong guy.

The whistle sounded. It was time to go on the court for the second set. The two teams’ starting members lined up courtside and jumped up and down. Hata didn’t sit down, and it seemed that he intended to call out to them from courtside.

“Kohei! Remind them of our depth!”

Mimura purposely yelled from the bench so that Seiin could hear him. Tokura turned around with a slightly surprised look on his face.

“Go ahead and give it your all!”

Mimura put one hand next to his mouth to form a megaphone and blasted his voice out cheerfully.

They seemed to have held firm with Mimura alone during the first set, but before long, Mimura’s spirit pulled up the concentration of everyone on the team, and by the end, everyone was literally rolling around to keep the ball up. And then the last point, entrusted to Tokura.

“Finish it!” ——It was the one point where Mimura passed the baton to Tokura, knowing that he was going to be down for the next set.

“…Yes!”

With flushed cheeks, Tokura responded with a “Yeah!” and was the first to run out onto the court. Mimura watched him with a smirk. “That kid gets depressed incredibly easily, but it’s also easy to figure out how to raise his spirits.” Ochi shot a glance at him with his eyes half-closed. “…You really are a…”

You really are…

Just how good of an ace and captain can you be?

After sending out his teammates onto the court, Mimura’s energy suddenly dropped. “Ah, it’s hot,” he took huge gulps from his Subaru-only bottle. Of course it’s hot. He was shocked when he sat down next to him. The air was so hot that steam was rising from his shoulders just by being near him.

In the first set, Mimura scored sixteen points, including a block point. In fact, more than sixty percent of the twenty-five points were scored by Mimura’s right arm. The joints of his overworked knees reminded him of the couplers on a steam engine, creaking painfully as the train puffed out smoke. When he took off his supporters, he could still see the scars from his middle school surgery on both knees.

Mimura turned his bottle upside down, trying to lap up the remaining liquid with his tongue. It suddenly reminded him of a battered robot gathering up energy from the outside and pushing it into its hollow body.

Feeling like he had seen the “true identity” of Mimura Subaru, a superhero made up in someone else’s dream, his heart jolted.

---

Seiin, who had finishing preparing to return home, lined up at the door, and at Oda’s signal, they bowed and said, “Thank you very much.” The Fukuho members were already cleaning up then gym, and only Mimura, Oda, and a few others who were close at hand returned their bows and saw them off.

“I guess we’ll call it a tie today.”

Mimura said and held out his right hand to Oda.

“I think you guys gave us the tie. We still have a lot of work to do.”

Oda’s reply was polite but not humble. He said “we still have a lot of work to do” as if it was a matter of course after a tied match with Fukuho as their opponent.

From the first set, in which they concentrated on Mimura alone, Fukuho changed their tactics, and in the second set, they started off with a combination attack from a well-balanced spiker. Seiin, who had been adapting to Mimura’s strong hits, couldn’t immediately respond to this. Fukuho was able to turn things around and escape from the back-and-forth match of the first set.

In the end, six sets were played, and after three sets each, time ran out. Seiin’s No.8 setter, Haijima, seemed unhappy about having to stop after an even number of sets and insisted on playing another set, but the two captains, Mimura and Oda, agreed to stop. Haijima was clearly dissatisfied. This was the immaturity of a first-year player.

Though Haijima insisted on another set, he was now at the end of the line with his stamina completely spent. Kuroba, who was standing next to him, was surprised to see him unsteadily lurching forward and pulled his elbow to make him stand up straight. He didn’t look like he had the energy to do another set. Oda probably saw that it was time to quit.

After today, Ochi found two weak spots to target in Seiin. The first was Oda’s height—they needed to pay special attention to his back attack, but it was no threat to Fukuho’s towering front row. He also sensed that Haijima also found it difficult to use Oda.

The second was that the setter touched the ball too much. Even in the middle of a rally, he tried to get the second touch by himself at any cost. That was probably why he was out of energy. Even if the serve receive wasn’t accurate, the setter could run anywhere, so Seiin’s serve receive was weak.

Maybe if he reviewed today’s video against the scorebook, he could see more.

Seiin was indeed as strong as their reputation had indicated. He had never seen a team in the prefecture that required that much passion in a practice match. He had to admit, that team was a real threat to Fukuho’s era of domination.

That was why, if Fukuho beat this team, they would surely win Nationals this year. This day reinforced that belief.

This year, Fukuho would surely take the center court at Spring High.

If Mimura needed an energy source, he shouldn’t dawdle and hesitate, but entrust his dream to him. He should be greedy—no, that wasn’t right either. He wouldn’t ask him to take him along. He was going to help his friends win, and if there was an opening, even if it was as small as the eye of a needle, he was going to pry it open.

“Alright then. Let’s be opponents in the finals next time.”

With a smile, Oda gripped Mimura’s hand, which was held out to him.

“Oh, really? You’re assuming you’re going to make it all the way to the finals?”

Mimura replied sarcastically, and Oda blushed with an “Huh?”, as though he truly didn’t realize the arrogance of his words. He must have believed in the strength of his team that much.

But once again, he made a tight smile and said, “Of course.”

He declared.

“Then just you wait for what’s coming for you.”

Mimura responded with a natural smile. Of course, Fukuho didn’t expect to lose midway through.

The captains of both teams shook hands firmly. Looking from the outside, it seemed amicable.

After Seiin left and the team members who saw them off dispersed to join in the cleanup, Mimura said, “Ouch. He was gripping my hand so hard that I thought he was going to break it,” and shook his right hand. From Ochi’s point of view, Mimura’s grip was also very strong, so he supposed it was mutual.

He shoved his hand into his jersey pocket and leaned his shoulder against the doorway.

“Number 8!” He shouted outside as though he just recalled something.

As the Seiin group was leaving under the evening sun, one of their backs twitched. When he changed from his uniform to a T-shirt and took down his “8” number, he looked like a first-year member of the team who hadn’t trained much yet.

“See you later!”

Mimura shouted provocatively at Hajima, who looked back at him doubtfully as if he was unsure if he was talking to him. He looked genuinely happy, and Ochi thought this was his face when he was watching the video in the AV room.

The sharpness returned to Haijima’s face, which had lost some of its vigor, and he narrowed his eyes. He bowed his head slightly and chased after his teammates, who were a short distance away. He joined Kuroba, who was waiting for him at the rear, and they began walking together.

He wondered what Mimura would say about those two freshmen, but he didn’t see them off for long.

“Subaru?”

“Subaru--. Can we have a minute?”

“Subaru-senpai!”

Brightly responding to his teammates’ calls with a “Okay!”, he turned back to the gym with his “Mimura Subaru” face on once again.

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#2.43 #2.43 seiin koukou danshi volley bu #2.43: Seiin Koukou Danshi Volley-bu #2.43: Seiin High School Boys Volleyball Club #2.43 Seiin high school boys volleyball team #2.43 book 2 #2.43 translation #fyeahsportsanime #sports anime

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