“BEEEEEEP~~~~”
“The match is over!”
“The winner: Aoba Johsai High School!”
“Final score: 22-20!”
The moment the referee’s whistle blew, and the official announcement echoed through the gymnasium, the minds of both the Aoba Johsai and Shiratorizawa players went completely blank.
The only difference was that the former were utterly overwhelmed by a tidal wave of joy, while the latter simply stood frozen, unable to accept the reality staring them in the face.
“We… we actually won!”
“We’re going! We’re finally going to Nationals!”
Thud.
Oikawa stood rooted to the spot. It took him several long seconds to fully process the fact that they had truly dethroned the powerhouse Shiratorizawa.
Then, his trembling legs finally gave out, and he collapsed right onto the hardwood floor, laughing uncontrollably.
“Hahaha! Hahahahaha…!”
The instant the final whistle cemented their victory, everyone on the Aoba Johsai bench rushed onto the court like madmen, pure, unadulterated excitement painted across every single face.
“OHHHHHHHHHH…!”
“You guys were incredible!”
“Nationals! We’re actually going to the Spring High!”
…
The members of Aoba Josei celebrated without restraint, shedding tears and shouting to the rafters, while on the opposite side of the net, the Shiratorizawa players quietly walked off the court, their shoulders slumped in bitter disappointment.
This was the harsh reality of high school sports.
In some ways, the powerhouse realm of high school volleyball was even more brutal than the professional leagues; with a single-elimination tournament bracket, a single loss meant many of these players would never get a second chance.
Yet, it was precisely because of that unforgiving weight that these tournaments became so unforgettable.
…
During the subsequent award ceremony, the exhausted Aoba Josei players practically had to prop one another up just to limp onto the podium. If they hadn’t leaned on each other for support, they probably wouldn’t have had the physical strength left to even walk across the court.
When it came time for the commemorative team photo, Oikawa’s smile wasn’t his usual polished, media-ready smirk, but it was entirely genuine.
In the past, Oikawa’s smile had always seemed perfectly warm and approachable, like a refreshing spring breeze, but much of it had been a carefully maintained facade.
After all, as a setter, he needed to maintain a seamless rapport with every player on his squad. In reality, however, aside from cold, hard cash, absolutely nothing in this world could win over every single person’s affection.
Once the official ceremony concluded, the victorious team was immediately swamped by television stations for post-match interviews.
This time, however, the grand captain Oikawa was no longer the sole target of the flashing cameras and microphones.
Asuto was pulled right into the spotlight alongside him.
To anyone watching the prefecture casually, it always seemed as though Miyagi had no truly outstanding aces outside of the undisputed titan, Ushijima Wakatoshi.
But that was a massive misconception.
It wasn’t that Miyagi lacked high-caliber aces, it was simply that every other powerhouse spiker appeared entirely dim when placed beside the overwhelming, monstrous brilliance of Ushijima.
Asuto had delivered stellar performances in all their previous matches, but the media had never truly focused their lenses on him.
The reason the reporters finally sat up and took notice today was because, during the absolute climax of the fifth set, Asuto had gone toe-to-toe against Ushijima Wakatoshi for six… no, seven consecutive, grueling rallies without yielding an inch.
That spectacular display of raw talent had finally forced the sports media to acknowledge him.
…
The following day.
After a full night of much-needed sleep, Asuto had managed to recover the bulk of his stamina.
The moment he walked through the school gates, he was greeted by a massive, somewhat surreal banner hanging prominently across the facade of the main building:
【Heartiest Congratulations to Our Boys’ Volleyball Club for Advancing to the National Tournament!!!】
The enormous banner took up prime real estate right in the center of the school campus, its sheer size a testament to just how monumental qualifying for the Nationals was to the entire academy.
As anyone could have predicted… Aoba Johsai’s boys’ volleyball club had instantly become local legends.
And Asuto’s name had skyrocketed even higher.
During the morning ten-minute break, Asuto noticed clusters of his classmates, both guys and girls, huddled together and staring intensely at something, every now and then stealing furtive glances back in his direction.
“Mishita, what are you guys crowding around?”
Asuto walked over and tapped Mishita Ryuhei on the shoulder.
Upon entering high school, the two childhood friends had luckily ended up in the same homeroom, given that Mishita’s entrance exam scores were quite respectable.
Mishita looked up, giving him a deeply complex, incredulous look.
“Are you seriously telling me you don’t know yet?”
“Know what?”
“Monthly Volleyball, man! The latest issue dropped first thing this morning. You and Oikawa-senpai literally split the entire front cover.”
As he spoke, Mishita shoved the glossy magazine directly into his hands, flipping it open to show him.
Sure enough, photos of Asuto and Oikawa each commanded exactly half of the front page, dividing the cover right down the center in a striking layout.
“Do you have any idea how the editors described you in the feature? They called you ‘Miyagi Prefecture’s next national-level Ace, inheriting the mantle from Ushijima-senpai.’ You’re a certified school celebrity now, Asuto.”
“You absolute bastard… I’m so jealous I could honestly die!”
Mishita’s face contorted into an expression so sour it looked like he had just swallowed a whole lemon.
After all…
While niche sports magazines might not have astronomical retail sales, that didn’t mean they weren’t heavily circulated by hand.
Especially within high schools; if a mere five or six students in a grade bought a copy, it was bound to be passed around until it had gone through the hands of well over a hundred people.
And anyone featured on a cover page was basically treated like an idol among high schoolers.
Take Oikawa as the prime example, ever since he first graced the pages of Monthly Volleyball, a ridiculous rumor had spread that he had once cycled through fifteen different girlfriends in a single month.
So, despite his elegant, noble-young-master persona on the court, Oikawa was widely perceived by the student body as a smooth, untouchable playboy.
No wonder he could never beat the hyper-focused volleyball junkies like Ushijima Wakatoshi or Kageyama Tobio.
And now, Asuto was about to receive that exact same dizzying level of attention.
One could easily imagine the sheer amount of psychological damage this reality inflicted on a chronically single guy like Mishita Ryuhei.
“Curse you, you fortunate normie! Just because you can spike a volleyball a little better than the rest of us, why do you get to be a magazine cover model?!”
Mishita vented his frustration dramatically, practically radiating a tangible aura of green envy.
Seeing his friend experience a total meltdown, Asuto let out a quiet sigh and decided to offer some grounded comfort.
“Mishita, you’re looking at this all wrong. Do you honestly believe the editorial board put me on that cover solely because of my volleyball skills?”
Mishita blinked, pausing his rant.
“…Is that not the reason?”
Asuto shook his head slowly.
“That’s completely off the mark. Look closer at the cover. Aside from being decent at volleyball, what is the most obvious trait Oikawa-senpai and I share?”
Hearing the prompt, Mishita narrowed his eyes and scrutinized the magazine cover for a long time, but even after staring holes through the page, his sports-centric brain couldn’t piece it together.
Looking down at the thoroughly baffled boy, Asuto let out a theatrical, pitying sigh, patted him gently on the shoulder, and pointed directly at his own face.
“It’s the face. The face. The face.”
Because crucial truths always needed to be repeated three times.
The moment the explanation registered in Mishita’s brain, it was as if a bolt of lightning had struck him out of nowhere.
He stood completely paralyzed in shock.
Asuto shook his head, turning to walk back to his desk.
“You poor, innocent soul. How can you be this naive? Did you truly believe magazine covers are awarded based on athletic merit alone? Think about it, when was the last time you saw someone genuinely unattractive featured as a cover model?”
“People who aren’t blessed in the looks department only get described with text, Mishita. They don’t even get invited to the photo shoot!”
…
(End of Chapter)