JSWGAS Chapter 78

Chapter 78

Kokonoe Taka’s bruise on his chin completely disappeared after four or five days.

Oikawa Tōru had been quite gloating these past few days, but after the fifth time he bumped into a female classmate looking worriedly and offering a gift of sympathy, his gloating turned into indignation: “This face is definitely more handsome than his, right?!” He pointed to his own face, then abruptly pointed to Kokonoe Taka who was drinking water, “Why is he getting hit on more these past two days!”

Saijō: “Ah, I know, this is what you call ‘flawed beauty’, right?” He stroked his chin, “Kokonoe has a little flaw on his face… How do I put it, it feels like it easily stirs up inexplicable pity?”

Kokonoe Taka took two sips of water: “Saijō-senpai, why do you understand so much… Knowing it so clearly makes me a little disgusted.”

Saijō: “…That’s because my sister talks about these things every day… Also, you little brat, show some respect to your senior! You’re not even pretending after getting familiar?!”

Arao finally had a chance to laugh at Oikawa, “Hahahaha, just now at the entrance of the gym, this guy saw a girl looking inside and thought she was looking for him, but after asking, he found out that she was looking for Kokonoe–”

Oikawa Tōru yelled: “Arao-senpai!!!”

“Alright, Arao and Saijō, you two are third-years at least, show some semblance of being seniors.” Another second-year ace hitter helplessly interrupted them, “Coach Mizoguchi is glaring over here.”

Only then did they wink at each other and scatter with smiles.

In today’s three-on-three practice match, Kokonoe Taka and his classmates Hanamaki and Matsukawa were on one team, while facing them were Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Furue.

This lineup could be considered a first-year infighting battle. Hanamaki solemnly handed over the responsibility of setter to Kokonoe, trying to recreate the quick attack he had with Oikawa that day, but the volleyball either smashed into Hanamaki’s head or wasn’t at his hitting point—Matsukawa also barely managed to receive a few, “How do I put it… It just doesn’t feel like we can coordinate.”

Oikawa Tōru, standing on the other side of the net, loudly scoffed: “Taka can’t possibly toss you the most comfortable ball like Oikawa-sensei can, so don’t even think about having him coordinate with you.”

“It’s still because we haven’t coordinated much before…” Matsukawa said thoughtfully, turning his head to Kokonoe Taka and saying, “Could you give me the ball a little lower later, Kokonoe?”

Kokonoe Taka quickly glanced at Oikawa Tōru: Being a setter and being a spiker are completely different feelings. Where to set the ball, how to deceive the opposing team’s block, height, speed, timing… None can be missing.

The surging fighting spirit was hidden beneath the deep sea, the surface maintained its calm.

He nodded: “Okay.”

At the sidelines, Coach Irihata focused some of his attention on the first-year students.

“This lineup arrangement is quite interesting.” He commented, “Oikawa and Iwaizumi have always played together, their tacit understanding goes without saying; Furue is a calm and cautious character, leaving the ground defense to him is very reassuring… I didn’t expect them to let Kokonoe be the setter here, though, that’s a very interesting idea.”

“He had a few pretty good combinations with Oikawa before, and the few balls just now were also good. Although there were coordination errors, the general idea of allocating the attack routes isn’t a big problem.” Coach Mizoguchi analyzed, “His position hasn’t been decided yet, has it?”

Coach Irihata shook his head: “His setting technique can be practiced more, consider it as an alternative means of attack… We still have to see. He hasn’t learned much about blocking, has he? His spiking is also very rough. Let Saijō and Arao take him under their wing first, then we’ll talk about the others.”

Coach Mizoguchi nodded, then couldn’t help but sigh: “Yeah, but I was really shocked, I didn’t expect Kokonoe to come to Aoba Johsai on his own, and still come to the volleyball club—the basketball club’s teacher was especially resentful when we went out for drinks last time, trying to get us to let him go and poach Kokonoe to their basketball club.”

Coach Irihata chuckled: “Young people, it’s necessary to try more things. Otherwise, how can you know what you truly like? –By the way, next time if he looks for you again, remember to tell me, I’ll go have a ‘good’ chat with them.”

Coach Mizoguchi saw the murderous expression in Coach Irihata’s eyes, and was silent for a moment: “…Okay.”

On the court, Oikawa Tōru had another powerful jump serve, Hanamaki received the ball, wincing in pain: “Hiss—Oikawa! Do I have a grudge against you!”

Although this ball wasn’t received out, the position was too far back, and the force wasn’t completely absorbed, the first pass was out of position, “Sorry! Cover!”

Kokonoe quickly stepped forward to cover, and bumped the ball into the air nearby, “Matsukawa!”

Matsukawa gave a quiet reply, staring at the ball as he jumped—and on the opposite side, Iwaizumi was staring at him intently, jumping up with him: “Too many openings!”

The ball was spiked into Iwaizumi’s palm, bouncing back fiercely.

Kokonoe Taka: “Tch.”

He was more annoyed than Matsukawa who was blocked, turning his head, his eyebrows pressing down fiercely: “One more ball.”

Although both sides had high morale, in the end, the team with Oikawa, who was a proper setter (only referring to technique), took the victory with 25:19.

“He still can’t coordinate with the sets at all, huh.”

During the subsequent independent practice, Oikawa Tōru, holding a volleyball, strolled over from the other side of the court, propping up the ball basket with one hand, and said lightly, “Although having a desire to attack is a good thing, if you’re a setter, the first thing you need to consider is how to let your teammates (spikers) score smoothly.”

Kokonoe Taka glanced at him, “Are you very free?”

“What, I just saw that your sets were too bad, so I charitably came over to give you some guidance.” Oikawa Tōru replied unhappily, “Anyway, you’ll be on the court sooner or later, having more attack options means more choices—if you end up messing up when your setting is needed, I, as your teacher, can’t afford to lose face.”

“Tōru, this level of narcissism is amazing no matter how many times I see it, I’m amazed you can say it with a straight face.”

“Hey! That’s too much! You learned your setting from me! What’s wrong with calling me teacher once!”

“Yes, yes, Oikawa-sensei.” Kokonoe Taka had no choice but to appease the sulking Oikawa Tōru, but he also followed the other party’s words and continued thinking, “Why do you think I can’t coordinate with Hanamaki and Matsukawa?”

Oikawa Tōru was overjoyed by being called “teacher”, cleared his throat, and explained with restraint: “Well, first of all, of course, your setting is still relatively unskilled, and you haven’t coordinated much before, so it’s naturally difficult to get in sync all at once starting from scratch.”

“There’s a second reason, right.”

“Of course.” Oikawa Tōru stroked his chin, his tone becoming more serious, “Your offense is too strong—the chosen routes aren’t a problem, but you haven’t left any room for adjustment.” He smiled, “The set positions only allow the ace hitter to spike with all their strength, without leaving any time for adjustment. If the ball to Matsukawa was a little slower, Matsukawa could adjust his posture and use a relatively better state to handle the attack.”

“Matsukawa isn’t very good at hitting quick sets, his rhythm is a little slower.” Oikawa Tōru said casually, “Hanamaki’s hitting point isn’t too high, but his ball control is very good, you need to consider that when setting the ball too—what kind of look is that?”

“I’m just surprised that you only become serious at times like these.”

“Ha? What kind of image do I have in your eyes usually!” Oikawa Tōru gritted his teeth.

Kokonoe Taka calmly changed the topic: “Oh right, I remember you’re also good at spiking? Then practice with me for a while–”

In the past, the one who practiced the most desperately in the volleyball club was usually Oikawa Tōru. From when he hadn’t even entered high school, when he was still at Kitagawa Daiichi, he had been kicked out of the gym multiple times by Iwaizumi angrily because he practiced recklessly, it could be said that Iwaizumi Hajime gave half of his worries to Oikawa.

But today—Iwaizumi Hajime had just finished a round of receiving practice, and when he turned his head, he saw a puddle of Oikawa Tōru lying on the ground. He twitched the corner of his mouth, walked over and asked: “…What’s wrong with this guy?”

He looked at Kokonoe Taka, who took out another volleyball from the ball basket, the latter’s forehead was covered with a thin layer of sweat, and he seemed to still have energy to spare: “It’s nothing.” He said, “I just practiced with him for a while. –Tōru’s stamina isn’t very good.”

Oikawa Tōru, who was lying on the ground, seemed to struggle to raise his head and say something.

Iwaizumi Hajime leaned closer.

“Demon…” Oikawa Tōru murmured, “One hundred and thirty-eight… Am I still alive… I saw my great-grandmother in heaven waving to me…”

Iwaizumi Hajime didn’t understand: “…Hey, get up quickly.”

Oikawa Tōru was completely silent.

And the ‘demon’ in Oikawa’s words thought of something, turned his head to look at Iwaizumi: “Iwaizumi, can you try out my setting?”

At that moment, Iwaizumi Hajime suddenly felt a bad premonition—but he didn’t associate this premonition with his childhood friend in front of him who had a serious and sincere attitude, after giving Oikawa a disgusted glance, he agreed readily: “Okay.”

An hour later, Iwaizumi Hajime felt like he was a newborn deer, his legs couldn’t help but tremble. He finally understood why Oikawa Tōru looked half-dead: “You… Did you practice like this in Tokyo too…”

With almost no pause, Kokonoe Taka kept setting the ball and he kept jumping, he couldn’t remember how many balls he spiked at all.

Kokonoe Taka stretched his limbs, he was also a little tired, “Pretty much, but I probably ran around more at that time.”

Turning his head, he noticed Iwaizumi, who was panting with exhaustion and covered in sweat.

A moment of silence.

“…Iwaizumi.”

“Huh?”

“The morning run… Do you want to add a few more kilometers?”

“…Annoying!”

“…”

“…Remember to drag Trashikawa out to run together too.”

…

…

With the passing of time, the atmosphere in the volleyball club gradually tensed up as the IH prefectural preliminary round in early June approached.

After morning practice, on the way back to his classroom, Oikawa Tōru yawned, and said weakly, “…I’m so hungry, so sleepy.”

Iwaizumi Hajime was not deceived by his pitiful appearance at all: “Are you a pig, you ate three milk breads this morning.”

“They’ve all been digested–” Oikawa Tōru sighed, touched his stomach, and complained, “Mom told me to buy my own breakfast again this morning… Although I like eating milk bread, I sometimes want to eat something hot…”

Iwaizumi Hajime thought of something, turned his head and asked Kokonoe Taka, who was walking on the other side of him: “By the way, Taka, how have you been dealing with meals lately? Are you still cooking yourself?”

Kokonoe Taka was biting a chocolate bar, and when he heard this, he guiltily avoided Iwaizumi’s gaze: “Uh, that… I’ve been practicing too much lately, I don’t have enough time, so I usually order takeout…” Iwaizumi’s eyebrows jumped, and before he could react, he heard Oikawa Tōru coldly expose him: “And cooking instant noodles. It was around twelve o’clock the night before—I smelled it in the room.”

Kokonoe Taka: “That’s because I deliberately took the instant noodles to the window for you to smell.”

Oikawa Tōru: “Ha?! I was wondering how I could smell it from so far away—later I was tempted to secretly go downstairs to the kitchen to find something to eat, but I was discovered by my mom and got a scolding—how are you going to compensate me!”

Kokonoe Taka: “Then you explain why the takeout placed at my door always mysteriously disappears a portion? Did the neighbor’s gluttonous cat steal it?”

Oikawa, the gluttonous cat, Tōru said righteously: “What cat! I don’t know! It has nothing to do with me anyway!”

Iwaizumi Hajime: “…”

He listened to the childish bickering coming from his ears, and his forehead was full of tic-tac-toes, finally exploding when the two’s bickering developed into a trash-talking stage of “Are you an elementary school student?!” “You’re the elementary school student!”

“Quiet down, you two!”

Iwaizumi Hajime reached out and slapped Oikawa Tōru on the back of the head, the latter staggering and almost tripping; then he turned his head and glared at the other misled youth who had been led astray with disappointment: “You don’t learn the good things, but you learn the bad things!”

Kokonoe Taka pretended to be nonchalant and looked away.

Oikawa Tōru had just stabilized his footing when he heard this, and immediately refused to let it go: “Iwaizumi, you’re too much! Why do you make me sound like a plague! Why only hit me! Iwaizumi is biased!”

“Shut up! It’s all your fault!” Iwaizumi Hajime ruthlessly suppressed him, and finally grabbed Oikawa Tōru by the collar and almost dragged him into his class, his terrifying aura causing the passing students who witnessed the whole process to not dare to breathe loudly, wishing they could turn into mice and burrow into the cracks in the wall to avoid the black-faced god of death.

After dealing with Oikawa: “And you!” Iwaizumi Hajime narrowed his eyes unkindly and started counting the offenses, “Ordering takeout—being stolen by Trashikawa, and cooking noodles late at night to deliberately lure him as revenge?” The more he spoke, the more amused and annoyed he felt, “The coach told you to get to bed early at night, right? The training volume has already increased recently, you’re not eating well and not sleeping well—do you want me to treat you the same way I treat Trashikawa?”

Remembering Iwaizumi Hajime and Oikawa Tōru’s usual way of getting along, Kokonoe Taka immediately apologized honestly: “I was wrong, please forgive me, Iwaizumi-sama.”

Iwaizumi Hajime clicked his tongue and rubbed his hair irritably, and entered the classroom with him. He still wanted to say something, but the bell rang before he could open his mouth, so he could only glare at him again and turn his head, stopping himself.

The first class was national language class, the teacher was a slow-speaking old teacher—the combination of this slow tone and various elaborate words was incredibly lethal. Kokonoe Taka was taking notes, and when he looked up again, he saw that everyone else in the classroom seemed to be writing furiously, but in reality, a large number had fallen.

Those who were still resisting sleepiness also looked dazed—Hanamaki, who was sitting in front of him, already had half of his head resting on his arm, occasionally waking up with a start, and after realizing that there was no danger, he relaxed and lowered his head again, repeating these movements constantly.

He found it quite interesting, and just as the teacher’s speed of lecturing slowed down, he simply turned a page of notes and quickly scribbled a rough but Hanamaki-like stick figure on the blank paper, preparing to give it to the other party as a gift after class.

Kokonoe Taka admired his masterpiece for a while, and felt a little bored by himself—turning his head, he looked at Iwaizumi on the side, originally intending to throw a small note, but he found that Iwaizumi was also nodding his head and looking up like a pecking chicken at some point, falling into the ranks of the sleepy army.

How rare. He looked at the other party for a moment.

Iwaizumi Hajime’s seriousness was not only manifested in volleyball and daily life—he naturally didn’t slack off in his studies either. This dazed look was very rare, it was a pity not to commemorate it.

Sorry, Iwaizumi.

Kokonoe Taka thought painfully: It’s really that this article is too boring, I definitely didn’t intentionally want to have fun—

His hand was very honest and drew a spiky-haired stick figure next to Hanamaki’s.

This paper was soon painted with another person’s portrait—a wall away, Oikawa Tōru fell asleep at the same time. But unlike the national language teacher in class one who turned a blind eye, the first class in class three that morning was the guidance counselor’s class. And almost no one dared to sleep openly in the guidance counselor’s class—so Oikawa Tōru, who fell on the table, became the most conspicuous one.

And he hung his head in self-blame after standing up for punishment, looking like he was admitting his mistake in a good manner. But near the end of class, the guidance counselor passed by him and discovered that he was sound asleep with his eyes closed—

“I told you I was really sleepy!” Oikawa Tōru argued after returning from the office, “Also, what are you looking at? What is this ugly stick figure drawing?”

Although he joined the three people surrounding them halfway, he still keenly guessed the truth: “This sea urchin-like thing wouldn’t be Iwaizumi—ow, why are you hitting me again!? It’s Iwaizumi after all, right!”

“Shut up! Trashikawa!”

Hanamaki: “…You can recognize that this distorted stick figure is Iwaizumi, you’re amazing, I give up.”

Oikawa Tōru: “Hmph—Oikawa-sama is of course very amazing—wait, the one that says ‘flower’, wouldn’t that be Hanamaki?”

Kokonoe Taka sneered, and passed the paper forward, “You might as well guess who the last one is.”

Oikawa Tōru: “Let me see…”

He held the paper, rarely falling into silence. After a long while, he said with difficulty: “Could it be that this…”

Serious: “Is that a self-portrait of you, Taka?”

Kokonoe Taka took a deep breath, smiled, and said kindly, “No, it’s you, Tōru, you’re so smart, you can’t not guess it, right?”

Hanamaki raised his hand: “I testify, just now when Kokonoe heard that you were sleeping in class and were punished to stand, but you fell asleep again while standing, and were finally called to the office by the guidance counselor, he drew you on the spot.”

Hanamaki: “Accept the fact, Oikawa.”

Oikawa Tōru: “…There’s no way that these distorted lines could be me! Even as a stick figure, Oikawa-sensei would definitely be the best-looking one! I won’t admit it!”

Iwaizumi pointed out: “But its expression is exactly the same as your disgusting expression that makes people want to punch you two or three times.”

Oikawa Tōru: “Iwaizumi, are you completely retaliating for me saying you look like a sea urchin just now?!”

Iwaizumi Hajime: “Ha?! Who else would do that besides you!”

A disagreement led to a fight. Hanamaki was used to the occasional brawls between these two classmates, and stayed numbly in place, feeling like he needed some time to repair the heart wound caused by this stick figure backstab.

Next to him, Kokonoe Taka rested his arms on the table, crossed his hands, and supported his forehead.

“Hanamaki.”

“Ah?”

“…Is it really so distorted, so ugly.” Kokonoe Taka questioned in a heavy tone, “Is my drawing really that bad-?!”

Hanamaki was silent for a moment, then tried to comfort him in a light tone.

“There will always be one or two things that people aren’t good at.” He was like a life mentor, but when he thought that he was also a member of the stick figures, his voice inevitably carried grief, “Even Kokonoe, there will be things you’re not good at… My suggestion is not to struggle and give up as soon as possible.”

Kokonoe Taka: “…”

In the afternoon training that day, Kokonoe Taka was the most murderous one, his spiking power was even higher than the previous few days, and Coach Mizoguchi even began to consider buying insurance for the gym floor in advance. Closely following were Oikawa and Iwaizumi. The former took a look at Kokonoe and did a powerful jump serve, the latter’s scolding of Oikawa increased exponentially, and the vocabulary of insults targeting Oikawa also rarely welcomed an update.

Contrary to these three people, Hanamaki fell into a state of inexplicable negativity, and together with Matsukawa, occupied the court farthest from them, very peaceful and quiet.

Coach Mizoguchi clapped his hands after the end of today’s three-on-three match, signaling them to gather.

“There’s about a month left until the IH prefectural preliminary round, for the next week, in addition to the training camp, Coach Irihata and I discussed it, and arranged two practice matches with other schools in the last few days.” He paused, “Date Tech—and Shiratorizawa.”

“Shiratorizawa?! Isn’t that a strong school? Ushijima went to Shiratorizawa this year, right? They actually agreed?”

“Date Tech… I remember there seem to be a few tall players in this class, their blocking is very good. They were also top four in the prefecture last year?”

“Their blocking is really good, especially the triple block. Saijō, I remember you argued with their third-year students last time?”

“More than that, captain, you and Shiratorizawa’s third-year ace haven’t decided the victory yet.”

Coach Mizoguchi coughed lightly, signaling the chattering students to quiet down, “We’ve always been in contact with Date Tech, it’s not difficult to arrange; Shiratorizawa… They seem to want to hone the edge of their newly acquired weapon in advance this year, so they agreed to the training match invitation.”

“–And, this year’s training camp, we will be conducting it together with Kitagawa Daiichi Junior High School, with whom we have always maintained a friendly relationship.”

That night on the way home, Oikawa Tōru complained with a complicated expression: “So is today my lucky day or my unlucky day–”

“Is there a difference?”

“…No.”

Kokonoe Taka didn’t know what kind of secret code they were using, “What?”

He only knew of a Ushijima Wakatoshi who had formed a big feud with Oikawa Tōru, but he didn’t know that there was a hypothetical enemy number two besides him. Oikawa Tōru certainly wouldn’t specifically tell him about this. So at this time, he immediately tried to muddle through with a laugh: “It’s nothing–”

But he was exposed by Iwaizumi.

“This guy had a long-lasting feud because of a junior in the club before.” He said coolly, treating Oikawa Tōru’s wails as a breeze in his ear, “He felt that he couldn’t compare to the other party, and would be surpassed by the other party sooner or later–”

He actually wanted to say it more directly, but after thinking about it, he still didn’t continue.

“But Tobio is annoying to begin with—very annoying!” Oikawa Tōru muttered, “Just thinking about having to be with him next… Ugh, it really is an unlucky day. Why do I have to see his face that isn’t cute at all even after graduating!” He shuddered.

Iwaizumi: “…You’re definitely going to see him when he goes to high school.”

Oikawa Tōru: “…Damn.”

This name was a little familiar, and also linked to Kitagawa Daiichi. Kokonoe Taka froze for a moment, and finally found the relevant fragments from his memories.

“Little Kageyama?” He was a little confused, “Isn’t that kid quite well-behaved?”

As soon as these words came out, not only Oikawa Tōru, but even Iwaizumi’s action of lifting his foot forward faltered.

“Little Kageyama??!” Oikawa Tōru turned his head with a shocked expression, shouting loudly, “What did you call him? No… When did you get to know Little Tobio?!”

Iwaizumi Hajime looked over silently, he also wanted to know the answer to this question.

“A long time ago.” Kokonoe Taka stared at Oikawa Tōru’s colorful expression for a moment, “Didn’t I stay in the hospital once in the fifth grade of elementary school? That’s when I met him… His grandfather was in the same ward as me.”

Oikawa Tōru wasn’t satisfied with this answer: “Then why do you seem so familiar with him!”

Kokonoe Taka complained, “…You’re really difficult to deal with sometimes–”

Oikawa Tōru continued to glare at him angrily, “What did you say?” He wouldn’t stop until he got an answer.

Kokonoe Taka had no choice but to continue recalling: “His grandfather had to do check-ups all the time, so I accompanied him for a while. Little Kageyama—Kageyama,” he changed his words under Oikawa Tōru’s pressing gaze, “was very sensible and obedient, he wouldn’t get angry even if you snatched his volleyball to play, he would just look up and stare at you all the time—ah, he would also call me ‘Kokonoe-nii’ very obediently.”

Iwaizumi Hajime recalled for a while, although he didn’t have any opinions about Kageyama Tobio, and even thought highly of the other party, but: “…No matter what Trashikawa thinks, the person we know isn’t the same person, right.”

Oikawa Tōru had never been so certain, he shouted: “Definitely not the same person!!!”