JSWGAS Chapter 114

Chapter 114

Chapter 114.

Surging toward the center court, carrying the clamor of different names, the spotlights illuminated the desperate struggle unfolding in the 18m x 9m rectangle, forcing gasps and sweat into the corners.

Shiratorizawa’s outside hitter received the first pass, needing almost no adjustment from the setter. The setter tossed a perfectly angled high ball, Ushijima jumped from the three-meter line two steps in, Ohira and Sonamura screened, a back-row attack, ending Aoba Johsai’s consecutive scoring run.

The next ball, Sonamura’s powerful jump serve, Arahata’s receive unexpectedly sending the ball directly into Shiratorizawa’s court, forcing the setter to adjust his position. The ball eventually went to Ohira, but Kokonoe and Iwaizumi at the net reacted quickly; the former returning swiftly after being faked out by Ushijima, his fingers barely grazing the volleyball, Miyano covering in the back row, Oikawa and Arahata launching a quick attack.

Service possession changed hands, Aoba Johsai targeting Ushijima with their serves. Ushijima showed no fear, his movements still precise and concise, a powerful jump after a perfect receive, spiking toward Kokonoe’s hands. The commentator marveled at the power of this self-set and spike, Kokonoe tensed his jaw, his whole body resisting the force that threatened to shatter his finger bones. Unable to stop the volleyball, it crashed viciously into the referee’s stand to the side.

A battle of unyielding wills, cheers of unyielding support.

The score continued to seesaw, eventually reaching the same number.

“…So hot.”

“Yeah. So hot.”

Oikawa Tōru echoed Kokonoe’s words, but the first sensation he felt was a chill creeping up his neck. He tugged at his collar, taking a shallow breath, only to feel sweat rolling into his collar, wet and sticky, clinging to the shirt on his back.

“I want to go soak in a hot spring.”

He said, as if complaining.

Kokonoe Taka reluctantly shifted his attention from Ushijima Wakatoshi on the other side of the net, his gaze sliding from Oikawa Tōru’s soft brown hair, utterly devoid of style, down to the sheen of sweat on his cheeks. “Sure,” he agreed immediately, turning to tell his other teammates, “Tōru says he’s treating us to a hot spring after the match.”

Oikawa Tōru: “…Hey! I didn’t say that!!!”

His shouts were drowned out by the rising cries of excitement, “Really?!”

“Yay!”

“Oikawa’s treating?”

“Speaking of hot springs, we should definitely go to Hokkaido!”

“Hakone’s good too, it’s in Kanto.”

“Listen to what people are saying!”

Oikawa Tōru fell silent under the referee’s gaze.

But even without the referee’s warning, he didn’t have the energy to defend himself. And Aoba Johsai’s members quickly quieted down as well, only the sound of ragged breathing audible.

…Deuce.

He gave a silent, wry smile.

In volleyball, the first team to reach twenty-five points, with at least a two-point lead, wins the set; but if the score is tied at twenty-four, a deuce system is put into effect. The set continues until one team leads by two points.

Oikawa Tōru tried his best to ignore the weariness his body was protesting, but he was still held hostage by the damp tide, merely struggling to avoid being dragged into the abyss had already exhausted him. He was almost grateful for Kokonoe Taka’s teasing just now, allowing him to slightly untangle the tightly wound threads before him, desperately gasping for air through the cracks.

24:25, Shiratorizawa’s outside hitter’s serve went into the net.

25:25, Tendō blocked Kokonoe, tying the score.

26:25, Ushijima’s hit-off hands went out of bounds, Furuhashi unable to chase after the ball flying out of bounds.

26:26, Iwaizumi shook off the block, scoring with a quick hit.

27:26, Tendō got a touch on Arahata’s pass, Shiratorizawa organized a counterattack, Oikawa gritted his teeth, blocking in front of Ushijima, but was broken through by the powerful attack.

Oikawa Tōru stumbled, steadied by Kokonoe grabbing him from the side. He looked up to see Ushijima Wakatoshi’s brow, filled with oppressiveness. His breath hitched as the other’s gaze lingered on him. Only when Ushijima Wakatoshi turned away did he slowly relax his clenched teeth.

–I want to win so badly.

I want to win, I want to win, I want to win…

Unnecessary pride was declaring it loudly, along with fragmented and jumbled information flooding Oikawa Tōru’s head. His temples throbbed with a dull ache, and a bead of sweat that had been clinging to his left eyelashes finally gave way, squeezing into the corner of his eye as he blinked, then trembling as it trickled down his cheekbone. He felt the ache in his eyes, blinking to try to squeeze the irritation out of his body, wrinkling his nose slightly as he squinted, looking as pathetic as a puppy.

–Damn it, I want to win.

Kokonoe Taka rotated back to the net.

“Kokonoe-kun isn’t worried at all?” A flash of striking red hair appeared in his vision, it was Tendō. “Aoba Johsai’s the one behind, you know? You’re about to lose, shouldn’t you have a more normal expression?”

Instead of being full of — vitality like he was now.

Those eyes, more evocative of a wild animal, stared unblinkingly at Kokonoe Taka, seemingly genuinely curious. Kokonoe Taka glanced at his teammates in response to his words, pulling his gaze back after clearly seeing the negative emotions.

“Why be worried?” he countered. “Because we’ll lose?”

“No,” he asked and answered himself. The tight scoreboard flipped page after page, Kokonoe Taka imagining the white eagle being seized by the neck, soft feathers filling his beak, two pairs of wings flapping frantically, sharp talons tearing at flesh. The expectation swaying in the depths of his consciousness enticed him to embrace the unknown scenery, he had to chase desperately so as not to be thrown off; but he wasn’t satisfied, he wanted to surpass them. “I like this feeling… being able to stand here now, fighting against the strong, makes me very happy.”

Tendō laughed, his mouth stretching wider and wider, but the person in front of him ignored it, continuing to speak.

“Is winning or losing important?” Tendō saw Kokonoe’s gaze falter slightly, indicating that he was recalling something. But the whistle quickly pulled his consciousness back, “Winning and losing is important.” He paused, then smiled, raising his eyebrows fiercely, “But there’s always something more important than winning or losing.”

“I’m starting to understand Wakatoshi-kun’s obsession with Oikawa-kun.” Tendō’s heart was pounding, and he licked his slightly chapped lips, “You should come to our side.”

The battle resumed.

This time, the smoke filled area was at the net, both the setter’s battlefield and the middle blocker’s battlefield.

Kokonoe Taka’s attempts never stopped. He methodically judged the timing of his moves, calmly and restrainedly observing his enemies. One was Tendō, and the other was of course Ushijima. Apart from these two most exciting guys, the rest shouldn’t be underestimated. But the emotions they stirred up were weaker than the previous two.

Of course winning and losing was important, otherwise there wouldn’t be the existence of competitive sports. But that shouldn’t be a reason to hinder his steps now.

He had to chase faster, tighter, and more accurately.

–Before that.

“Tōru.”

Oikawa Tōru heard his name at this moment, mixed in with his drowning breaths. Apart from his family, few people would call Oikawa Tōru by his given name. ‘Oikawa’ was the name people were familiar with, replacing the given name. And among those pitiful few, the tone used to call him by his name was mostly affectionate, only this person would call his name like a signal before battle.

“…I’m counting on you,” he glanced over quickly, “I won’t be afraid.”

A chill ran up Oikawa Tōru’s spine, the sensation after heat was cold, the cold coming from the sweat cooled by the wind. Kokonoe Taka stared at the panting Oikawa Tōru across the identical numbers on the scoreboard — he had once said casually, don’t be afraid; he had once said across phone lines a hundred miles apart, don’t give up.

Another drop of sweat fell, and Kokonoe Taka saw Oikawa Tōru silently let it slide across his nose bridge, falling into the air along the tip of his nose.

He exhaled completely, the breath that had been pressing heavily on his heart.

–So don’t you give up either.

Kokonoe Taka turned his head away with peace of mind.

Iwaizumi Hajime was on his other side, supporting himself on his knees, his eyes fixed on the rallying call, “Done talking?”

“Yeah.”

“Troublesome guy.”

“…How cold,” Oikawa squeezed in, “Be a little gentler in your tone. Otherwise Koiwa won’t have any redeeming qualities, will he?”

“Looking for a fight?”

The two were almost fighting in front of the referee.

27:27, Aoba Johsai’s defense once again displayed its resilient and solid side, Tendō blocked Kokonoe’s quick attack, but the ball was barely saved by Miyano’s desperate dive before it hit the ground. Oikawa quickly organized a counterattack, tying the score once again.

28:27, Ushijima’s powerful spike, no one could stop it.

…

The score reached 30:29, Shiratorizawa leading.

“Annoying guys,” Shiratorizawa’s setter stared at the other side, “Wouldn’t it be better to obediently get out of the way?”

“Because they don’t want to lose, right? After all, it’s the second set, if they don’t win this set, then the hope for what follows will be even more slim,” the libero could understand, “And they look even more tired than us.”

“More than that, Ushijima, do you want to rest for a bit?” Sonamura asked, “It’s only the second set, but your physical exertion should be two or three times what it usually is. And you, pay a little attention to the others, don’t give all the balls to Ushijima.” The last sentence was directed at the setter.

Ushijima shook his head, firmly saying, “I can finish this match.”

“I want to too,” the setter said with a headache, “But the other side is unusually difficult to deal with. Not to mention Saijō, I can also feel Kokonoe’s increasingly fast follow-up with the multiple blocks… Even though he’s also very physically exhausted. Covering quick attacks, blocking, saving balls, no matter what we do, he’ll cling to us, plus that switch-up setter…”

“It feels like there’s nowhere to start,” Ōhira added, “Although the blocking isn’t as stable as Saijō’s one-touch, he’s always chasing so closely, making us feel jittery.”

Recalling his own spike just now, Ōhira hesitated — although he changed his spiking route halfway, switching from a cross-court shot to a light push over the net, and scored successfully. But it always felt like Kokonoe had seen through his move.

“Speaking of Saijō,” another third-year middle blocker said thoughtfully, “That guy is actually… very strange today. Has his blocking style always been this unshakable? And he’s actually still hasn’t been subbed out yet.”

Saijō’s stamina problems weren’t exactly a secret in their year, just as famous as his blocking style of wanting to block everything.

Sonamura frowned, looking at Saijō’s blurry face, “That guy won’t last long.” He concluded, “Even if he stubbornly endures with willpower, Saijō can only play this set. The longer the time drags on, the more his problems will be magnified… Their blocking is mostly supported by Saijō, although the others also have a certain threat, their one-touch isn’t stable. Let’s drag him down first… We can afford the risk, but Saijō can’t. Without him, there will be flaws in Aoba Johsai’s defense.”

“Alright, don’t be careless, win this set. I for one don’t want to be as tired as a dead dog playing all five sets.”

Tendō hummed a strange song, “Hum-duh-duh-duh — ”

Ōhira was a little surprised, this match wasn’t just Wakatoshi, Tendō also seemed more excited than before, “Tendō, are you very happy?”

“It’s of course delightful to mess around with interesting people — ” Tendō said strange things, “It would be even better if it were more lively –!”

…

…………

Saijō knew he couldn’t hold on much longer.

Both sides had used up their timeouts, now it had purely turned into a clash of wills. He had always been clear that he wasn’t the kind of fool who kept rushing forward for a vague goal, and was by no means a perfectionist who ‘must do his best if he can’. Volleyball was just a diversion in his life, and he could live well without it. In fact, there were quite a few people in the volleyball club who thought the same as him; volleyball was just a club activity, some joined for fun, and naturally some quit because they didn’t enjoy it.

He should have quit long ago.

Saijō believed that his love for volleyball was not enough to offset his current pathetic state of being almost fished out of the water, nor could it help him resist the heavy limbs and lift them again.

“Saijō,” as the score reached 30:29, a distant call came from his ear, “Can you hold on?”

“…Yeah.” A half-beat response, that wasn’t what he originally wanted to say.

Who was asking him?

Saijō Shū was in a trance for a moment, almost thinking that it was someone who had left this court long ago asking him gently. But when he looked up, he saw someone who, no matter how you looked at it, didn’t match this tone.

“Ara…”

“Don’t force yourself.” Arahata interrupted him, and his teammates seemed to have noticed something, not one of them looked at them, so they wouldn’t know about this brief conversation, “You can rest.”

Arahata’s cheeks were flushed red after the intense exercise, like everyone else on the court. But his eyes were very bright, and there was even a different feeling from the previous simple, big boy — a kind of insight that only smart people would have on their faces. Saijō felt his heart stop for an extremely unnoticeable millisecond, followed by a sudden realization and a self-deprecating laugh at his own dullness. Even people who weren’t familiar with him could see that something was wrong with him, a problem that the first-year student who had only been with him for more than two months could discover, so how could this acquaintance who had been with him for three years never have noticed. He was just silent, playing dumb in accordance with Saijō’s thoughts.

He could rest, just like he secretly slipped out of the volleyball club every day, never adding an extra training session; just like he never went to see Minamihi again, even if he ran into him at school, he would just say a quick hello and flee in the opposite direction.

“You’ve done very well,” Arahata said, “Take a rest, no one will say anything.”

Of course no one would say anything. Everyone with eyes could see Saijō’s contribution to the team. It could be said that Saijō’s defense was indispensable to the fact that this set hadn’t ended yet. Blocking, blocking, blocking. Saijō didn’t participate in the attack, but he guarded the front line of the net, refusing to retreat a step, his fingers had swollen up, and he had to wrap them tightly with bandages to numb the pain.

Of course no one would say anything, just like no one blamed him last year either. Perhaps because he was too tired, Saijō was playing a slideshow of black and white images in his mind, like a revolving lantern, the previous second was his headstrong block that was turned against him and hit off the hands, the next moment was his brother holding a script and pointing out something half-seriously; his left eye saw Minamihi lying on the court silently wailing, and his right ear heard the low and half-sighing advice from his junior not long ago under the night.

“…Don’t do things you’ll regret.” It was as absurd and ridiculous as a situation comedy. Saijō bit the soft flesh in his mouth, grinding it little by little. It was only when he tasted the taste of rust on the tip of his tongue that he spat and bit his teeth in a panic.

“Now,” he repeated, “Now, you’re telling me to go down and rest?”

“Dream on.” He chuckled deeply, “I’m not so useless yet.”

The protagonist of the situation comedy was destined not to escape the haze of the past, Saijō held the script and retreated backwards. Until he retreated into the darkness where he could no longer retreat, but it was as if he had appeared under the bright lights of reality. I’ve regretted it once, and I still think that Minamihi should be the one standing here, not the lazy me.

“Come off the court, and then reduce all the previous efforts to ashes?” He questioned, “Or do you want to wait until the end of the match, and be looked down upon by Sonamura like last time? Have a fight with him? Are you willing to let the last year end like this?”

–I don’t want to regret it again.

Arahata didn’t find it too difficult to read this information from those bloodshot eyes, perhaps the suggestion at this time wasn’t even well-intentioned for Saijō.

“And,” Saijō’s mouth was dry, his throat was stinging like needles, which allowed him to take a few breaths before continuing, “I don’t want to be an obstacle.”

Arahata tilted his head and glanced at the vast audience seats, where people were moving, and it was more difficult to find the face of an old friend than to climb to the sky. So he just glanced at it and retracted his gaze, turning to look at his teammates on this side of the net. Saijō’s words were without beginning or end, but he quickly understood the other’s meaning.

“That’s right, this is our last year,” he smiled, as hearty as usual, and the rest of the words were drowned out in a chaotic uproar, “But for them, it’s just the beginning.”

Saijō cursed him, “Nonsense.”

–The reason why seniors are called seniors.

In similar pathetic situations, the third-year students looked at the second-year students, and then looked remotely at the first-year students with firm eyes, and seemed to have reached a consensus. They may go their separate ways in different lives after this game, or they may say goodbye to volleyball from now on, and Saijō still doesn’t think he loves this sport as much as the others. But at least at this time, every one of his actions is meaningful, and he can become a reef that supports the waves and pushes them to the sea.

–That’s enough.

30:30, Saijō shrunk back his hands that were raised high in front of Sonamura at the critical moment, letting the volleyball smash out of bounds without looking back.

Sonamura: “You…”

Saijō found that he didn’t care at all that his embarrassment was witnessed by his old rival.

“Don’t underestimate me.”

“Arahata-senpai!”

Just like any time in the past, Arahata firmly jumped up with the call of the team’s frivolous junior.

–Swung empty.

But he laughed silently, watching the junior who liked to deceive hand the ball neatly to the reliable junior.

–Go.

–A group of worrying, annoying, and lovable juniors.

“30:31! Aoba Johsai finally took the lead against Shiratorizawa after a long tug-of-war!”

…

…………

In a trance, Kokonoe Taka felt that the volleyball he touched every time he jumped wasn’t a dead object, he captured a jumping pulse.

He was very happy to see Saijō persevere until now, no one would be indifferent to that persistence, right.

Arahata’s style of play was as stable as always, and Kokonoe was very grateful for his tolerance. Although he usually didn’t act like a captain and was always being teased by Tōru, Arahata could always be their fallback.

Miyano was very flexible, observing the movements on the court, and was a typical representative of playing with his brain, judging which ball should be given up and which ball must be taken.

It was a remarkable thing that Furuhashi could defend the ground defense under Shiratorizawa’s fierce attack. He liked the position of libero very much, and he treated every pass with sincerity and seriousness.

A-Ichi, still maintained a reassuring stability in critical moments, and it could even be said that he had the best mentality on the court. He silently supported the frame of every attack, taking down the pressure from both the opponents and the troublesome people on the team, and accepted his occasional exposure of strength and Tōru’s consistent stubbornness.

Tōru, who always liked to laugh on weekdays, was the most difficult person to deal with in the volleyball club. But at this time, only the smile on that handsome face could be seen disappearing, revealing a sharp edge that made people feel afraid. Gritting his teeth and breaking his head, he had to grasp the radiance of victory.

…

–What about me?

Oikawa powerfully jumped to serve, and Shiratorizawa’s first pass was in place.

The setter was under great pressure, inexplicable pressure. He turned his eyes again, confirming the opponent’s position and deliberately lowering his gaze a few inches, staying on the number ’12’ on the net. Who should this ball be given to? Sonamura as bait? Or the outside hitter in the back? Or Tendō, who pulled away? No. None of them had the power to compete with this invisible pressure. The increasingly urgent sense of crisis made him erupt with the best level of this game, and a high ball rushed into the sky.

Ushijima was there.

At the end of the second set, his posture remained perfect even with Shiratorizawa behind, and it was clear that his low panting had never stopped, he was covered in sweat, and his hair was sticking to the sides of his face, but he was more like a divine statue full of oppression. That unwavering spirit and dazzling power were almost comparable to the sun worship of primitive society. The influence of the outside world was just a passing cloud to him, and the weariness of his body couldn’t make him hesitate.

His feet were in the air, fully loaded.

…

…

Aoba Johsai’s cheers blew away the brief trance, and Kokonoe Taka once again clearly sensed the pulse of the volleyball the moment he touched the ball, coming to the wrist bones along the rough and aching skin surface, arriving at the organs in the chest after passing through the blood vessels, and disappearing in an instant in the steady and powerful heartbeat. They seemed to have engaged in an unknown conversation in the brief intersection, and before the aftershocks had completely disappeared, the observer who had been silent suddenly stepped forward and grabbed it.

It wanted to slip away, wanted to escape, there was no way to retreat, there was no way to avoid it, and it could only obediently get caught up in the vortex.

The bursting flesh sizzled, and the pain nerves were crushed into pieces.

“Bang!!!”

The rumbling of a landslide and tsunami was like the end of the world.

The bright pupils reflected a shell that was almost about to smash through the floor.

The entire arena was stagnant.

The commentator moved his tongue, and it took him a long time to make a strange sound, and the well-written draft changed the subject, and the tone changed from a daze to a high-pitched cry.

“Aoba Johsai… Kokonoe blocked the spike from Shiratorizawa’s ace!!!”

30:32

“Nice ball!”

Aoba Johsai’s members rushed over shouting, drowning in a torrent of sound.

Someone’s hat was thrown out of the audience seats.

That’s it! No need to restrain yourself! No need to stay! Make a big fuss for the sake of fun! This kind of competition is more interesting! It’s even more exciting! Even pain can become the sweetest poison! Cowards will be defeated in retreat! Monsters will only rejoice in madness!

Tendō grinned and laughed, and he was one of the most inappropriate ones.

Ushijima Wakatoshi only felt that his heart was almost about to burst out of his chest like never before.

His mouth was dry, and he stared at his enemy, licking his lips unconsciously, but could only let the wildfire-like desire continue to rise.

…One more ball.