Itachiyama Academy was a household na in Tokyo. As a prestigious private high school, it consistently produced outstanding results in both cultural and athletic clubs, with many securing spots in national competitions. Among them, the boys' volleyball team stood out the most.
With multiple national championships in recent years, Itachiyama had earned the title of the "King of High School Volleyball".
During Golden Week, five schools would be participating in a joint training camp at Itachiyama Academy's gymnasium.
The participating schools included Itachiyama Academy, which organised the camp, as well as two other Tokyo-based teams—Hachioji Academy and Seidoku Academy. Joining them were Ichibayashi High from Fukuoka Prefecture and Kashiwai Academy from Chiba Prefecture.
Additionally, on the first day of Golden Week, Aoba Johsai from Miyagi Prefecture would be visiting for a practice match against Itachiyama.
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May 1st
At precisely 8:00 AM, players from the five schools began their warm-ups in Itachiyama's First Gymnasium.
Sunlight stread through the tall windows, casting long beams across the polished wooden floor. Despite being early morning, the temperature was already stifling, and the air felt thick with humidity—like an invisible heatwave wrapping around every person in the gym.
As he stretched before practice, Itachiyama's first-year, Shirakawa Kaito, kept glancing toward the entrance.
"They won't be here this early. It's only eight o'clock," Komori Motoya chuckled.
"Ah—Komori-senpai, sorry!" Shirakawa straightened up, flustered at being caught.
"Stretching helps prevent injuries during intense movent. But if you're forcing it this much, what exactly are you trying to accomplish?" Sakusa Kiyoomi's voice was cold as ever. "Wearing yourself out before practice even starts—I'd advise against such aningless stupidity."
"Yes! Sakusa-senpai, I'm sorry—!" Shirakawa hastily bowed, but since he was already sitting, his sudden movent pulled at his thigh muscles, sending a sharp pain through his legs.
"Shirakawa, don't tell 'I'm sorry' is your default phrase," Komori teased, grinning.
"No, no! I really an it!" Shirakawa waved his hands in a panic. "I don't want you to misunderstand—sorry!"
"Haha…you're too funny." Komori's eyebrows twitched as he laughed.
"Motoya, if you don't stretch properly, you'll get injured during matches too." Sakusa shot him a deadpan look.
"Yeah, yeah, got it, Captain."
Komori figured that if he teased any further, Sakusa might actually get annoyed, so he obediently resud his warm-up.
The camp schedule followed the sa structure as previous years, primarily consisting of practice matches between the five teams.
Two courts were in use at all tis, hosting two matches simultaneously. The remaining team would take on officiating duties—acting as the main referee, assistant referee, scorekeeper, and other supporting roles.
Losing teams faced harsh punishnts, though calling them "punishnts" was an exaggeration. In reality, they were just another form of training.
For the duration of the camp, every player needed to focus solely on volleyball.
By the ti the morning session ended, each team had played two matches.
As expected, Itachiyama Academy dominated. With one of the nation's top three ace spikers, Sakusa Kiyoomi, and the widely recognised best high school libero, Komori Motoya, they cruised through their matches against Hachioji Academy and Kashiwai Academy without breaking a sweat—completely avoiding any "punishnts."
Following closely behind was Ichibayashi High, a team that had placed in the national Top 4 and Top 8 in the previous year. They also secured two wins that morning.
Among the remaining teams, Kashiwai Academy from Chiba Prefecture perford slightly better due to their prior national tournant experience. anwhile, the two Tokyo-based teams, Hachioji Academy and Seidoku Academy, suffered consecutive losses, struggling to keep up.
"Tweet—!"
The referee's whistle signalled the end of the final morning match.
The losing team, Seidoku Academy, began their punishnt drill—frog jumps around the court—while the other players started packing up their gear.
With the much-anticipated lunch break approaching, the visiting teams were already looking forward to experiencing Itachiyama Academy's renowned als.
Just then—
"Oh? Looks like we arrived at just the right ti."
At the entrance of the gymnasium, a familiar figure stepped in, leading a group of players in blue.
Heads turned as the gym, which had been relatively quiet a mont ago, suddenly buzzed with excitent.
"That's the Spring High champions—Aoba Johsai?!"
"They're here already? I thought they wouldn't arrive until the evening."
"The guy leading them—is that Kaedehara Taichi?"
"When did Aoba Johsai get a giant? Is he a first-year?"
Sakusa Kiyoomi walked straight toward Kaedehara Taichi, Komori Motoya following closely behind.
"Taichi, I'm going to beat you into the ground today."
"Well, now this is rare." Ichibayashi High's ace, Araki Kosei, wiped the sweat off his forehead as he watched the scene unfold. "So Sakusa actually has soone he cares enough to challenge."
"Well, Kaedehara was ranked among the nation's top three aces as a first-year—six months earlier than Sakusa," setter Matsuo Satoshi comnted with interest. "I'd like to see for myself what kind of player he really is."
"If we had beaten Itachiyama in Spring High, we would've faced Aoba Johsai in the finals," Araki mused. "I wonder if we'll get a chance to play against them today."
anwhile, Taichi's face lit up the mont he saw Sakusa and Komori approaching.
Sakusa, on the other hand, suddenly felt a little awkward. Since Aoba Johsai had travelled all the way here as guests, openly provoking them right upon arrival wasn't exactly the most polite move.
With so effort, he eased the furrow in his brow and tried to offer a semblance of a smile.
"Komori-senpai! Long ti no see!"
Without hesitation, Taichi walked right past Sakusa and greeted Komori first, reaching out for a handshake.
Sakusa: "…"
The forced smile on his face froze in an instant.
"Taichi!!!"
"I'm right here, Sakusa-senpai." Taichi turned his head and waved his hand in front of Sakusa's face. "Your eyes look perfectly fine to ."
"Hmph." Sakusa took a deep breath to calm himself. "Always pulling these childish stunts."
"Huh?" Taichi tilted his head in feigned confusion.
"Ohh—Sakusa-senpai, don't tell you wanted to shake my hand?" Taichi said with exaggerated surprise. "I thought you had a germophobia thing, so I greeted Komori-senpai first."
"Nobody—wants—to—shake—your—hand." Sakusa gritted his teeth, forcing out each word.
"Motoya, wash your hands. We're going to eat."
Sakusa had made up his mind—he was not speaking to Taichi again today.
"That's kind of rude, Sakusa." Komori looked troubled. "Aoba Johsai just arrived, and I wanted to catch up with Taichi."
"Motoya!"
"Alright, alright!" Komori raised his hands in surrender. "Taichi, we'll talk later. Lunchti first."
"Sure, we'll head over soon."
"Motoya, make sure to wash your hands properly!"
Hearing Sakusa's barely concealed irritation as he walked away, Taichi nodded in satisfaction.
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