JSWGAS Chapter 77

“So that’s how it is, it’s about the approach run.”

Coach Irihata stroked his chin, “Before, Kokonoe’s balls were mostly on the same horizontal line, and there wasn’t a suitable opportunity for an approach run, so although his spikes were a bit heavier than others, they weren’t too difficult to receive; Oikawa’s toss solved these two problems, bringing out Kokonoe’s advantages.”

Teacher Mizoguchi couldn’t help but say, “Even so… the power of this spike is almost comparable to that Ushijima, right? I couldn’t tell at all before that Kokonoe could hit a ball like that.”

Coach Irihata smiled and waved his hand, “The power is on par with Ushijima, but Ushijima’s spikes have route selection; Kokonoe… his technique isn’t as good as Ushijima’s for now.”

A roundabout way of putting it.

To put it bluntly, Kokonoe Taka’s current spikes are just mediocre, at an average level. Oikawa Tōru’s contributions are indispensable to breaking through the block—perhaps the spiker himself is even more aware of this fact.

He met those honey-colored eyes, filled with warmth, head-on, and easily read the unspoken but powerful message.

In an instant, he couldn’t help but wonder what Oikawa Tōru, also looking into his eyes, would discover. He had known for a long time that Oikawa Tōru’s insight was as terrifying as a human being’s peak instinct. He wondered if Oikawa’s eyes could reflect something he himself had never noticed, something that existed only in his own eyes. But such vague and complex thoughts disappeared without a trace after the next exhale, leaving only an itchy impulse scattered throughout his body.

“One more ball.”

He heard himself say.

Oikawa Tōru laughed when he heard this, with the same smile as always, full of lightness and vitality. This kind of smile was often disliked by Iwaizumi Hajime for being sticky and a little disgusting, but now, filled with trust and understanding, it became pleasing to the eye.

“Okay—” Oikawa Tōru drawled, bending his eyes in satisfaction.

Team A only needed one more point to end the match, so this last point was extremely important.

Arao turned his head, “Hanamaki, is your hand okay?”

Hanamaki had just blocked Kokonoe’s spike route, but his palm was violently knocked away by the volleyball. He moved his wrist, made a fist and then released it, “It hurts… hiss, but it’s not a big deal. Although I think my hand will swell up after the match… More than that, is Kokonoe’s power usually this strong? I didn’t feel it at all usually.”

Furue gave a wry smile, “Sorry, I clearly got a touch but I still didn’t manage to save it.”

Hanamaki waved his hand, “There’s no way to save that ball, let’s just block them dead on the next one!”

Arao pondered for a moment, “When I looked at the physical fitness test results before, I was still wondering, Kokonoe’s strength test was a bit different from his usual spike power. Now it seems, the balls tossed to him before didn’t hit his best hitting point. After all, he’s still a so-so beginner… he probably didn’t notice this.”

Furue: “…Oikawa is really scary when you look at it this way.”

Arao affirmed, “Being able to grasp the hitter’s situation in such a short period of time and stimulate Kokonoe’s ability is indeed scary. But in the end, the hitter is the one who controls the attack, let’s not be led by the nose—let’s steadily receive their next ball!”

The two: “Yes!”

Saijō served, it was a stable overhand serve. Arao received it perfectly, and then immediately prepared to run up—Furue tossed the ball, and Hanamaki also started running up and jumping on the right wing at the same time.

Who will hit this ball?

The volleyball was passed to the left wing—Arao held his breath, glaring at Saijō, who was jumping at the same time as him, with a sneer. They had been teammates for three years, and were very clear about each other’s habits. Saijō blocked his best straight ball route, Arao swung his arm, but lightly brushed the ball a split second before hitting it, hitting a dink.

Oikawa failed to receive it, and Team B won a point back.

Arao landed, triumphantly akimbo, looking at Saijō and Oikawa Tōru, who was lying on the floor looking up at him with a glare, feeling secretly refreshed: “Don’t underestimate us!”

Saijō: “Tch.”

Oikawa: “Ahhh, damn it!”

The serve returned to Team B, which also meant that Team A gained the right to attack.

Arao deliberately aimed this ball at Kokonoe, sending it to a position on the right side, forcing Kokonoe to dive to receive the ball—his diving wasn’t skilled, and his chin hit the floor, creating a dull thud. The people watching the game on the sidelines felt sympathetic, sucking in a breath of cold air, their chins aching slightly. But he still managed to send the ball back to the front of the net—

Arao stood in front of the net, his eyes quickly scanning the three people on the court: Saijō’s attack wasn’t weak, but it was weak afterwards, not difficult to block; Kokonoe had only just gotten up, and it was already too late to participate in the attack—”Huh?!”

The calm and orderly voice suddenly stopped. Not only was Arao unable to resist letting out a curse, but even Saijō, who was covering, and Oikawa Tōru, who was preparing to pass, were stunned for a moment before they reacted—Kokonoe Taka got up unexpectedly quickly. When the ball was about to reach Oikawa’s hand, he had already started running up smoothly—not the kind of straight run-up from the back court, but a run-up that crossed half the court diagonally!

It was also thanks to the fact that they were playing three-on-three, and there were fewer people on the court, that he could go all the way smoothly. If it was a formal match, this kind of random run-up would have knocked over other teammates long ago.

Oikawa Tōru felt the piercing gaze as if it were real, and the exposed skin felt a refreshing chill.

…What a strong desire to attack. He thought, and the sense of satisfaction and pleasure in his heart went one step further.

“Block him!”

Saijō’s bait didn’t work. Arao, Hanamaki, and Furue dared not hesitate any longer, and quickly took their positions in front of the net, watching the approaching figure!

“One, two, three—jump!”

Three pairs of arms were raised high, forming an impenetrable wall. Even so, Kokonoe Taka was driven by the undiminished excitement in his heart to swing his arm—a clear sound of air being torn apart, enough to imagine how much force he used.

But the sound of the volleyball landing was gentle.

“I was completely tricked by Oikawa.”

Those watching from the outside could see it more clearly. Coach Irihata sighed, “Oh dear, oh dear, as expected, he’s very scary.”

—A second attack from Oikawa Tōru.

Oikawa Tōru raised a smiling face: “Oops—I’m really sorry, you specially left such a big opening for me. As expected, I have to make good use of it to be worthy of someone with so much motivation…”

Before he finished speaking, there was a loud “bang!” The teammate next to him charged too hard, didn’t brake when he landed, and crashed into the net in a mess. The net posts on both sides were teetering, but in the end, they stood strong. However, the net wasn’t so lucky, and was directly broken off the net post by Kokonoe Taka.

“…Are you okay?!”

Iwaizumi Hajime weakly supported his forehead. Their three-on-three had ended even faster. “It would be weird if that kind of random run-up didn’t cause any problems…” As he spoke, he ran onto the court and helplessly rescued Kokonoe Taka from the net.

“Are you naturally incompatible with the net?” Iwaizumi Hajime complained, remembering how this guy got entangled in the net in the gymnasium last time.

He confirmed that Kokonoe was okay, but the expression on his face when he got up was cold enough to make ice shards fall. However, the obvious red mark on his chin reduced some of his danger, and made him inexplicably funny. The others couldn’t help it anymore, and their giggles turned into loud laughter: “Hahahaha hahaha! Ko-Kokonoe, the momentum is amazing, but don’t charge so hard next time…”

“Is your chin okay? Did you fall anywhere else? Do you need to go to the infirmary to get it checked out… Pfft.” Arao Masato, who came over to care for his teammates, said half of his concerned words, and then burst out laughing when faced with the glare of his junior, “…I’m sorry.”

Hanamaki: “Hahahahahaha Kokonoe, you look like a poor little bird caught in a bird net hahaha!”

Oikawa Tōru: “What are you turning your head for! Everyone is worried about you, honestly accept it—Puchi!”

Saijō: “Although I understand how much you want to score, you still need to be careful. It wouldn’t be good if you got injured… Furue, you’re a senior! Don’t be so gloating!”

Furue: “Saijō-senpai, you’re still talking about me! You’ve been laughing the whole time! You haven’t stopped!”

Even Coach Irihata and Teacher Mizoguchi couldn’t help it. Looking at Kokonoe, who was surrounded in the middle, his hair messed up by who knows who, his expression blank, but somehow making people feel that he was very desperate, their shoulders twitched suspiciously.

Kokonoe Taka: “…”

I really want to escape.

In the end, Iwaizumi Hajime stood up to save him—although this person had just been laughing with no expression management at all. But now he had at least stopped, forming a stark contrast with Oikawa Tōru, who was laughing so hard that his stomach was cramping. “I’ll go with you to the infirmary to get it checked out.”

Kokonoe Taka felt that he could temporarily pretend to be blind, ignoring the person’s cheeks and ears, which had turned red from laughing so hard.

Coach Irihata waved his hand, approving Kokonoe Taka’s silent request to escape the scene.

On the way to the infirmary, Kokonoe Taka’s rare, stinky face scared away several girls who wanted to come and talk to him. He glanced at Iwaizumi Hajime next to him and muttered helplessly, “Alright, Iwaizumi, just laugh if you want to.”

Iwaizumi Hajime rubbed his cheeks, “Sorry—cough, I just remembered the photo of you and Oikawa getting tangled in the net together last time.”

Kokonoe Taka: “…You haven’t deleted that photo yet?”

Iwaizumi Hajime clenched his fist firmly: “Of course not, I’m definitely going to keep that photo until our third year of high school. Then, when we graduate, I’ll print it out along with other embarrassing photos of Oikawa and give it to everyone in the volleyball club as a gift.”

Kokonoe Taka: “…If I wasn’t in that photo, I would definitely agree with both hands.”

Iwaizumi Hajime pretended not to hear his lament and instead said: “Don’t push yourself so hard when you receive the ball—you’ve only just learned how to roll and save, and you haven’t practiced diving for long.” He frowned, “It would be a net loss if you got injured.”

The two happened to walk through a small path to reach the infirmary. The infirmary teacher was flipping through a magazine. When she saw the two of them come in one after the other, she quickly closed the magazine. “Injured?” She looked at the uniforms of the sports clubs on the two of them, and her expression became clear.

Iwaizumi Hajime said briefly: “He hit his chin on the floor when he was saving the ball.” As he spoke, he dragged Kokonoe Taka in front of him.

The infirmary teacher looked pained after seeing the obvious mark on Kokonoe Taka’s chin. She gently touched the injured area while examining it, and asked a few questions. “The bones are fine,” she said, “It looks like there’s a little subcutaneous bruising, just spray some medicine on it and it’ll be fine in at most a week.”

Kokonoe Taka touched his nose, trying to quibble, “Actually, I didn’t feel any pain…”

Iwaizumi Hajime rudely interrupted: “It’ll be too late when you feel it.” He clicked his tongue, warning rather unkindly, “Besides, aren’t you very good at enduring pain? Sometimes I really feel like I should punch you to wake you up—”

Kokonoe Taka: “…Please don’t use the Iwa-fist on me, Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi Hajime: “?”

He didn’t delve into what the ‘Iwa-fist’ meant, which was unclear. The teacher listened to their back-and-forth conversation and almost couldn’t hold back her laughter. After finding the medicine, she quickly handed it to Iwaizumi. The latter drove Kokonoe Taka to a stool, making him sit obediently.

Kokonoe Taka twisted uncomfortably, “I can do it myself.”

Iwaizumi Hajime: “Oh, then do you need me to borrow a mirror for you?”

Infirmary teacher: “I do have a mirror—” She took out a portable powder compact, very delicate and small, almost a work of art, “It’s just this kind of small mirror. Do you want to use it, student?”

Kokonoe Taka: “…”

He was as quiet as a cicada in winter.

When Kokonoe Taka saved the ball, his chin hit the floor. It was only a little red just now, but now it was vaguely purplish, especially obvious on his fair skin. Iwaizumi Hajime frowned and awkwardly applied the medicine to him, and the cold spray inevitably felt awkward on the skin. “Don’t move.” Iwaizumi Hajime pressed his eyebrows and lightly tapped his forehead.

…Only at this time would Kokonoe Taka feel that Oikawa Tōru’s words about Iwaizumi Hajime being like a ‘mom’ made a lot of sense.

His eyes couldn’t help but be filled with admiration and emotion.

Iwaizumi Hajime scrutinized his expression, and suddenly, inspiration struck: “Are you thinking about something weird?”

Kokonoe Taka faced his unkind gaze and frantically shook his head in denial.