Those who had just been shut down in the gym had no choice but to head back and continue practice.
Tendo turned to Goshiki, who was still standing there in a daze, and said, "Hey, Goshiki, wanna come watch our practice?"
Goshiki instantly perked up. "Yeah! Yeah!"
Ah—this kid was surprisingly easy to win over.
...
On the other side, Ryosuke trailed behind Coach Washijō, looking utterly aggrieved. Washijō strode ahead, scolding him nonstop, and the whole scene looked exactly like an angry mother hen lecturing a little chick that had lost a fight.
Washijō led Ryosuke outside to talk. Because they hadn't seen each other for so long, a rare silence settled between them.
In the eyes of most players and teachers, Coach Washijō was always a very stern, demanding old man, someone who held his players to extremely high standards.
He firmly believed in the philosophy of "height and power" and never showed mercy—except when it came to Ryosuke, whom he had practically raised himself.
The little patience he had in his lifetime had all been given to Ryosuke.
Ryosuke stared at the silent Washijō in front of him, panic finally setting in. He hurriedly explained, "I wasn't being willful… I heard Shiratorizawa is the strongest volleyball team in Miyagi, so I came.
"I've already taken care of everything in Tokyo. Unless it's something really, really important, I won't go back anymore."
Washijō raised an eyebrow. "You little brat. Are you saying you want to play volleyball at Shiratorizawa?"
"Yes!" Ryosuke's eyes were full of anticipation.
"Hmph." Washijō snorted coldly. "Listen carefully. Our volleyball club has a huge training load, and there are plenty of outstanding players here.
"Don't even think about taking shortcuts. If you want to stay here and play volleyball, tighten up and give it your all! Don't let me see you fail to even make the starting lineup!"
"Yes, sir!" Ryosuke shouted on reflex.
"..."
(Washijō was speechless.)
Seeing Washijō's fierce, bristling expression, Ryosuke felt it again—this was it, this familiar feeling. Being scolded like this was oddly comforting.
Then his eyes lit up as he looked at Washijō. "I ended my lease in Miyagi today… and I haven't applied for the dorm yet."
He stared at Washijō with eager expectation, his cat-like eyes radiating a longing that was impossible to ignore.
Washijō felt his temper flare. "Alright, alright! Pack your things tonight and come back with me. I really owe you one."
With that, he led Ryosuke back toward the gym. Watching Washijō's slightly hunched back, Ryosuke suddenly felt his nose sting. He quickly adjusted his expression into a bright smile, cheering as he jogged to catch up with the fast-walking coach.
...
Back in the gym, Coach Washijō called everyone over. Ryosuke quietly sidled up next to Goshiki and whispered to him.
Before Goshiki and Ryosuke arrived, several new students had already trickled in one after another.
(Quiet whisper: but Ryosuke was the only one who managed to catch Ushijima's cannonball shot.)
The advisor and players instinctively gathered near Coach Washijō. Once the surroundings quieted down, he finally spoke.
"Since both the veteran players and the freshmen are here, before the new members officially join, we'll first conduct physical tests.
"After the tests, we'll see how many freshmen remain, and tomorrow morning they'll play a practice match against the veterans."
The crowd immediately erupted into chatter.
"What's a physical test?"
"Isn't filling out the club application enough?"
"Why do we have to play a practice match? How are we supposed to win…"
Complaints sprang up everywhere.
Washijō barked coldly, "Our school is the strongest volleyball team in Miyagi! If you came here planning to muddle through, then get out now! Shiratorizawa doesn't need weaklings!"
Everyone was stunned by his presence, and for a moment, no one dared to speak.
The senior players began packing up their things on their own initiative, with Goshiki and Ryosuke following behind them.
A certain red-haired Satori Tendo was bent over, preparing to sneak away.
"Satori! Where do you think you're going?" Washijō's voice made the sneaking Tendo freeze on the spot.
"Shirabu, Ushijima—keep an eye on Tendo!"
Mission accomplished: one Satori Tendo, face pale as death.
Ushijima and Shirabu, expressionless, grabbed Tendo from left and right and dragged him forward. Seeing this, Goshiki rushed over like an excited puppy.
"Ushijima-senpai, I'll do it! I'll do it!"
Ushijima replied seriously, "I'll handle it myself. Once Satori starts running, you won't be able to stop him."
"Ahh, Ushiwaka and Shirabu aren't cute at all anymore," Satori Tendo said, sounding utterly defeated.
Ryosuke couldn't help but laugh from behind. What a bunch of strange seniors.
Seeing this, Goshiki circled back to Ryosuke and whispered, "Is Coach Washijō really your grandpa?"
Seeing the unmistakable envy in Goshiki's eyes, Ryosuke smiled and whispered back, "He's not my biological grandfather, but Grandpa Washijō raised me."
"Eh?! Coach Washijō raised you?!"
"Y-you, keep your voice down!" Startled by Goshiki's booming shout, Ryosuke hurriedly covered his mouth.
Hearing their conversation, Semi leaned in. "Huh? He really is your grandpa?"
Ryosuke answered haltingly, "Y-yes."
"Then does Coach Washijō usually get mad at you?" Semi finally asked the question he'd been curious about for a long time.
"He does, but he's really good to me. When I was little, as soon as I started crying, Grandpa Washijō would stop scolding me. I used that trick every time I got into trouble."
"Oh… is that so?" Semi lowered his head, thinking deeply.
At some point, Tendo—who had somehow slipped free from Ushijima and Shirabu—also came over and looked at Semi with a serious expression.
The two exchanged a knowing glance.
"Could it be…"
"Don't try something that dangerous, hey!" Reon cut him off before he could finish.
"Ah~ I still think it's worth trying~" said Tendo, completely serious.
"That's probably the right answer," Semi said, suddenly enlightened.
And so, for a long time after that, a rumor spread around the school: that Coach Washijō from the volleyball club would hit people—the kind that made club members cry…
Coach Washijō's reputation had truly suffered.