Kita Seio spent his childhood in Miyagi Prefecture. Before graduating from elentary school, he had lived with his grandparents, where the gentle breeze over the fields and the cicadas' sumr cries beca his fondest mories.
That changed during the sumr of his graduation.
His father, Kita Kōsuke, took him away from the familiar countryside.
Kita Kōsuke was a forr professional volleyball player who, after retiring, beca a coach at a high school in Osaka. Due to his work, he was often away, with only the occasional phone call or letter keeping their relationship intact. Despite the distance, Kōsuke had always paid close attention to his son's growth.
By the ti Seio graduated from elentary school, Kōsuke noticed that his son was significantly taller than his peers—evidence, in his eyes, of inherited athletic potential.
Thus, Kita Kōsuke decided to bring Seio to Osaka and train him in volleyball personally.
For Seio, it was a completely new beginning.
Leaving behind everything familiar, he arrived in an unfamiliar city to live with a father who, until then, had been little more than a voice over the phone.
With curiosity and enthusiasm, Seio took his first steps into the world of volleyball. He followed his father's strict regin, training in the fundantals and learning each technique with diligence.
To Kōsuke, Seio was a raw gemstone waiting to be polished. He carried high expectations, eager to pass down his skills, his dreams—to shape Seio into the ideal volleyball player.
However, as ti went on, Kōsuke's rigid, high-pressure training thods beca suffocating. His standards were relentless, leaving no room for mistakes. Every correction, every reprimand, weighed heavily on Seio's shoulders. The intense training schedule felt like an inescapable net, tightening around him, restricting him.
In Kōsuke's vision, his son was ant to be a bamboo shoot bursting through the soil, growing rapidly into a towering tree—a future star in the volleyball world.
But Seio soon realized he was not the genius his father wanted him to be.
He loved volleyball, but not in the way his father envisioned.
The first seeds of rebellion took root.
During his first year of high school, Seio's team, Gyokuhō High, faced Sakusa Kiyoomi's Itachiyama in the National Tournant—and lost.
Kōsuke's disappointnt and anger were evident. Father and son clashed, their conflict reaching its peak.
Seio's gaze grew sharper, more defiant. His actions beca reckless. He started stirring up trouble at school, getting into fights. The final straw ca when he got into a serious brawl with his senior teammates.
Everything ended there.
Seio quit the volleyball club. Soon after, he took a leave of absence from school.
And just like that, Kita Seio beca what people called a delinquent.
-----
In that aimless period of his life, his grandmother called him ho.
Stepping onto the familiar soil once more, Seio felt a quiet sense of peace.
His grandmother set up a simple volleyball net in the yard. When no one was around, he would sneak in a few hits—no drills, no structured training, just the sheer enjoynt of the ga.
Then ca the night of his transfer paperwork at Karasuno.
The old gym, dimly lit and nearly empty, echoed with the familiar sounds of volleyball.
Drawn to it without thinking, Seio stepped inside.
And so, the gears that had stalled for a year began turning once more.
This ti, they moved by Seio's own choice.
-----
Bang!
Yahaba Shigeru's jump float serve was received by Nishinoya Yū.
Kageyama Tobio moved swiftly into position. In the middle, Enoshita Chikara leapt up for an attack.
Kindaichi Yūtarō reacted quickly, cutting off Enoshita's spike route.
Whoosh!—
Both Enoshita and Kindaichi landed.
The real attack ca from the back row—Kita Seio soared into the air!
Boom!!
The ball landed behind Kindaichi.
Kita Seio, back-row spike—point scored!
[Aoba Johsai 16 – 13 Karasuno]
"This is a tiered attack?" Nakamori Daiki groaned, furrowing his brows. "It's ridiculously hard to defend…"
The concept was simple—while the setter faked an attack with the front-row spiker, the real threat ca from the back.
In beach volleyball, with only two players, such layered tactics didn't exist.
Kageyama's true strength wasn't just the precision of his sets—it was his impeccable timing. Whether fast or slow, he had complete control over when and where the ball would arrive.
That made his feints all the more dangerous.
If Kindaichi hadn't committed to blocking Ennoshita's spike, the entire sequence wouldn't have worked.
The serve rotated.
Karasuno's turn.
Tanaka Ryūnosuke tossed the ball into the air, striking a dramatic pose that he believed looked incredibly cool.
Boom!!
A powerful jump serve shot straight toward Aoba Johsai's backcourt!
Smack!
Nakamori Daiki barely managed to receive the ball—this shaved-head guy's serve had insane power!
Yahaba Shigeru swiftly stepped in, setting the ball to the left wing.
"Shift right, block the cross!" Tsukishima Kei, Karasuno's blocking strategist, calmly issued his command.
"Three-man block!" Kageyama Tobio, Ennoshita Chikara, and Tsukishima Kei all leaped up.
A clear straight-line path was left open.
"Don't underestimate !"
Kyōtani Kentarō twisted his body mid-air, aiming for the straight shot instead. The ball zipped past Kageyama's left side with pinpoint accuracy.
Boom!—
A sharp gleam flickered in Tsukishima's eyes. He had never underestimated this shaved-head guy—not even once. He simply believed in Karasuno's guardian deity.
Smack!
Nishinoya Yū received the ball cleanly!
Kita Seio despised geniuses. He wasn't one, and neither were his teammates.
But at this mont, he found himself feeling an unparalleled sense of security and trust—because his teammates were geniuses.
He dashed forward, accelerating his approach before launching into a back-row attack.
Kageyama, having landed, stabilized himself instantly and set the ball.
Whoosh—!
"You won't—get another one past us!"
Kindaichi Yūtarō had locked onto Kita Seio's back-row spike timing.
Smash!
At the sa mont, on the far right, Tsukishima Kei leapt in place for a spike.
Kunimi Akira jumped to block him, but the ball slipped just beyond his fingertips.
"Tch." Kunimi clicked his tongue in frustration.
Smack!
Behind him, Kaedehara Taichi dug the ball.
Nakamori repositioned and sent a quick set to the middle. Kindaichi took to the air for a spike.
"Double block!"
Kageyama and Ennoshita both jumped to stop him.
Boom!
The ball soared past Ennoshita's outstretched hands and slamd into Karasuno's back row.
Kindaichi Yūtarō's high-reaching spike landed for a clean point.
[Aoba Johsai 17 – 13 Karasuno]
As Kageyama landed, he locked eyes with Kindaichi. As a setter, he imdiately sensed it—Kindaichi's hitting point had gotten even higher.
Back in middle school, when they played together, Kageyama had tried to push Kindaichi to rely on speed to escape blocks.
That had been a mistake.
His real weapon had always been height.
"…Kindaichi, I'm sorry." Kageyama suddenly spoke.
"Eh—what? I—uh, it's fine." Kindaichi stamred, before sighing deeply. "I should be the one apologizing."
For leading the effort to ostracize Kageyama back then…The guilt had never fully left his heart.
Kunimi blinked in surprise, then quickly stepped up beside Kindaichi.
"What are you two doing?" Kunimi eyed Kageyama suspiciously. "Don't think you can ss with our heads—we aren't going easy on you."
"Of course not."
A genuine, unrestrained smile spread across Kageyama's face.
"It feels like a huge weight's been lifted off my shoulders, finally saying it."
"…Yeah. Sa here." Kindaichi's expression softened into a relieved grin.
"You two idiots." Kunimi scoffed, but a small smile tugged at his lips as well.
There was no need to wait until adulthood to tentatively test the waters.
On a spring afternoon in their second year of high school, with the last traces of winter lting away, a misunderstanding that had lingered since middle school—
—at last, faded with the snow.
_________
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