V1C1 Part3

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3. THIRD TOUCH

Okay maybe I’ll try doing the dialects after all. Stop me if it gets too cringe or something.

Also Yori-chan’s voice is deep

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The next day boys’ volleyball team could use the gym was Friday. Kuroba nonchalantly confirmed that on the notice board he hadn’t looked at in a long time. And so, after school on that day, as he was paying attention to Haijima’s movements, Haijima carried his bags over his shoulder and left the classroom as soon as he finished cleaning, as though he had been waiting impatiently. Kuroba also hurriedly pulled out his bag from his locker and was about to tail him, but…

“Hold on a minute. You’re going home? You’re the one on trash duty today.”

A girl from his class blocked his path and foisted two eighteen-litre drums that were used as the classroom’s trash cans onto him. To go to the garbage dump at the back of the school, he had to change into his outdoor shoes at the entrance and go outside once, which was somewhat of a bother. Plus, it was this season.

He lost a lot of time as he ran to the garbage dump and back while grumbling about the cold. Even though he had planned to follow Haijima closely after school and observe all of his actions, his plan went awry immediately. No, it’s not really a mission that needed to be carried out exactly as planned, it was just an idea to kill time——.

“You’re into some boring stuff, huh.”

He felt a sense of competitiveness, wanting to see just what kind of “non-boring stuff” Haijima, who had stated that, was doing.

Today it was the girls’ basketball team and boys’ volleyball team that used each half of the gym. As soon as he pushed open the heavy deep-blue metal doors and peeked inside,

“Dash!” “Yes!” “Next!” “Yes!”

He ended up poking his head into the middle of a flurry of enthusiastic girls’ voices.

Girls’ basketball was a major faction in girls’ athletic department, rivalling girls’ volleyball. At a quick glance, there were about twenty members in the club. It seemed that they had just finish doing dashes and were about to move onto practicing with the ball.

But at the same time, when he looked closely at the other side of the green partition net down the middle, that side of the court hadn’t even finish setting up, much less doing warm-ups.

Next to the pole used for volleyball, Haijima was putting up the net. He was wearing plain black trainers, black shorts with a florescent stripe, and long black underpants that went all the way to his ankles. Are his sneakers Mizuno? They were probably full-fledged volleyball shoes. All of them seemed quite well-worn. It might be prejudice, but he found it irritating how refined and stylish he looked, like a middle schooler from the city. But he could tolerate it because he didn’t have an idol-like face. He could see that his fingers on both hands that were tying the net’s cords were also taped today. His thumb, index finger and middle finger on both hands were taped from their tip, covering the nail, to just above the second joint.

After finishing putting up the net by himself, Haijima started running around the court. He finally started warming up much later than girls’ basketball. Along the lines, at a fixed pace, his gaze slightly lowered…by himself… Kuroba unconsciously held his breath as he watched him come and go from the other side of the metal doors.

Finishing the light jog that mixed in side stepping or something like that, he stretched carefully before pushing the cage of balls towards the end line of one end of the court. It seemed that he was going to practice serving. The line at the back end of the court was the end line.

In six-people volleyball, each position rotated clockwise once every time the team commits a side out (gaining the right to serve), the person who came to the back right became the server. The area behind the end line was the service zone (the place where you can serve). Though imperfectly, Kuroba was a member of the volleyball team, so he was at least taught the basics.

He put the ball in his left hand, extended his arm straight before him to eye level, and stayed still for a beat. His perfectly still form was incredibly cool. He threw the ball up slightly forward with a swing of his arm and a snap of his wrist—how high was his toss? That’s right, don’t position yourself too far back from the line, he thought—he ran forward to chase after the ball and jumped, and then hit the ball with his left hand that tossed it.

A jump serve! He was surprised. He thought there were few middle schoolers who could do a jump serve unless they were a national tournament-class player.

From a high hitting position, the ball was driven in with enough force to bend his body backwards, but it was slightly too low and got caught on the net before dropping down to his own side of the court.

However, it didn’t matter to Kuroba whether it went over or not. He was entranced, feeling like he was shown something very high level. A jump serve was like spiking a ball in a serve, an offensive serve that flew into the opponent’s court with the most force. Even none of his senpais had hit one before, so this was the first time he saw one in person. Amazing, so cool…He unconsciously leaned out from behind the doors and strained his eyes to see the next one better.

Haijima himself didn’t seem pleased that it didn’t go over, and he took out the next ball from the cage while glaring at the net with a petulant face. It seemed that he planned on fetching the balls all at once after using up the balls in the cage. After all, he was “alone.”

It happened when Haijima took the serve stance once again.

“Hey hey, transfer student!”

A voice came from the neighbouring court over the partition net. He was pretty sure she was the head of girls’ basketball who was in the same class as Itoko. The other members were scattered along the wall with their towels in hand, taking a breather. With an aura of blatant annoyance rising from him, Haijima put down his left hand that holding the ball.

Basically, they were telling him to hand over the court. Come to think of it, there was no reason for the other clubs to considerately leave the spot for boys’ volleyball open, which had been neglected until now. He can easily imagine the tacit understanding that “the day we’re next to boys’ volleyball is the day we can use the whole court.” But then one day, Haijima suddenly appeared and, without even a word to his neighbors, set up the net and started practicing by himself with a face like it’s natural…The other clubs, who were under the impression that they could also use the whole court today as well stared at that with unaccepting faces…He could picture that in his mind so vividly he couldn’t bear standing there a second longer.

“You’re by yourself today too? As you can see, we’re packed like sardines over here. If you’re gonna do it by yourself, wouldn’t it be better to just do it in a corner?”

At some point, everyone from girls’ basketball gathered in front of the partition net to put pressure on Haijima.

“Hey, if you’re just playing around by yourself, then isn’t it better to go do it in a corner?” “We can practice more efficiently if we can use two courts.” “I think it’s fair if we divide the surface area according to number of members.” The group was pressing clamorously. It was more like a group of ferocious girls than girls’ basketball. The image of a deer in Nara Park being surrounded by a herd of female African lions came to mind, but if he said that aloud, girls’ basketball would almost certainly strangle him.

Even though Kuroba was completely terrified just by looking, Haijima didn’t recoil in the slightest. He bent his chin slightly and glowered at the confronting group with narrowed eyes, as though looking down on them. Being able to take that shameless attitude in this atmosphere—are his nerves as thick as sewage pipes? No, maybe he was lacking the nerves to read the air in the first place. Yeah, I feel like that’s the case, judging by his attitude from the first day he transferred here until now.

“I can’t practice without having one side of the court. The number of people doesn’t matter. If you don’t have enough space to practice, talk with your advisor. I’m just using my rightful privilege.”

That voice, which was by no means loud but reached the ears across the space, and his standard Japanese that sounded haughty and cold compared to the local dialect, silenced the girls’ basketball club. Their complaining voices became muffled and weak, as though the volume of a TV was turned down, but they looked at each other with unaccepting faces, saying, “What’s with this kid, gives me nasty vibes…” “Why’s he actin’ so high and mighty…?”

Ugh, Kuroba groaned inside his head. This was the first time he heard Haijima say a rather decently long line, but perhaps his likability wouldn’t go down yet if he didn’t speak… A sound argument was a sound argument, but the way he said it was too awful in any case.

“Hey, ya ain’t got any complaints if he ain’t alone, right?”

Even he was surprised at himself for stepping out from behind the doors and calling out to them. The girls’ basketball team looked back all at once and he flinched inwardly, but outwardly throwing out his chest to try not to give into the pressure.

“S-sorry for bein’ late…”

Even so, his face froze and his voice trailed off.

“Ain’t that Kuroba Yuni?” “Oh, Itoko’s cousin?” “Was he in boys’ volleyball?” Girls’ basketball was buzzing amongst themselves, but the one who was the most surprised might be Haijima. His brows were knitted together and he looked extremely bewildered, his face seeming to say “What the hell are you doing?” What the hell am I doing, you ask…What the hell am I doing?

He was actually told that.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Haijima stood facing the net from court end, dribbling a ball in his left hand. The ball that bounced off the floor settled into his hand like it was sticking to it. Kuroba sat cross-legged courtside and set his bag aside. A ball had rolled within reach, so he stretched his hand and pulled it in. This might be the first time he touched a volleyball in a while. It felt somewhat ticklish.

On the other half of the court, girls’ basketball had resumed practice. He could feel the vibrations of the wild dribbling, like venting anger that had no outlet, through his bottom. Even though the gym floor was always fluffy with dustballs, it was clean now, as though it was mopped before practice. By himself…? He must have taken the time before practice started.

“I just came here to watch. The stuff I do gets called boring, so I thought you must be doin’ somethin’ fun over here. But I didn’t come here to rescue you. That was just because I felt like it. It’s not about you, it’s just that twenty against one is unfair.”

“It’s still not very reassuring even if it’s twenty against two.”

“You’re not cute at all, you know. You’ll lose friends by saying stuff like that.”

The ball that was rhythmically going back and forth between Haijima’s palm and the floor viciously hit his toes and flew in an unexpected direction. …Hmm? Was he agitated just now?

With a sour face, Haijima took out another ball from the cage. After lightly bouncing the ball, he placed his left hand on it and extended his arm directly in front of him. He narrowed his eyes and stared intensely at the point beyond the ball. The rite of mental concentration was not long. It was about a second in time. He turned it with one hand and released a high set. Chasing his own set, he ran three steps, sank his knees deeply and jumped. Nimbly warping his body like it was a bow made of supple wood, he bent himself into the “ku” character and at the same time, swung his left hand with all his strength. Come to think of it, he was pretty sure he held the chalk in his left hand when writing on the board in class as well.

When the ball was precisely caught in the air and a hearty “bam” sound burst out, Kuroba let out a cheer. This time, it was a sharp serve that passed over the net and pierced into the other end of the opposing court. Oh. He might not be that agitated after all.

“That was amazing! You can do jump serves! I only saw those on TV.”

He imitated him by tossing up the ball in his hand and hitting it, but he didn’t feel like he could hit it like Haijima at all. Even though he praised him honestly, Haijima didn’t even look flattered in the least.

“I did nothing but this for three weeks, so I’d be in despair if I didn’t get even a little better. Also, I still can’t use it in a game unless I increase my accuracy more.”

“Only serves? Why?”

He got glared at when he asked that without thinking. He was just told by Yorimichi that his tendency for asking questions was annoying.

“It’s the only thing you can do with just one person.”

“Oh…” Kuroba was speechless after letting that out.

Haijima was doing this because he wanted to, so there was no reason for him to feel guilty, but he still did. Mopping the floor, putting up the net, warming up all by himself…then, practicing serves, using up all the balls in the cage and fetching them, and then doing serves again, all by himself…putting down the net, cleaning up, and then going home by himself. “What you’re doing seems fun.” ——It can’t be fun at all. What’s more, if he was doing it alone, then he was constantly being pressured to give up his spot by the neighboring court.

He rewound the conversation in his head and played it. “It’s still not very reassuring even if it’s twenty against two.”

He put the ball on the floor and used it like a prop to stand up.

“…I don’t have a jersey, but I can join you if you want. I came all the way here, and I don’t have any plans with Yori-chan today. I suck, though. I might not make a good practice partner. If it’s better for you to do it alone, then I won’t come again.”

While bending and stretching in place of warming up, he piled on the extra words like excuses. His ears were subconsciously prepared for another “What the hell are you doing?” When he finally did some back-bending exercises, he peeked at Haijima’s face as he got back up. No doubt, he’s looking down on me—

Haijima was looking at him with his narrow eyes opened so widely that it made him wonder if that was as far as they could go. He could see something wet at the back of his eyes—Huh, was he crying? I didn’t say anything bad, though? I was confused for a moment, but no—?

It was light. There was a feverish light glittering in his eyes, which you couldn’t feel something like temperature from as they were obstructed by the lens of his glasses. Like an elementary school boy who got excited about the moving life-sized Tyrannosaurus robot at the dinosaur museum he visited for the first time.

“Wh-what the…”

It was so different from his impression of him until now that it felt somewhat creepy.

“Wait. I’m getting my contacts.”

“Huh? Why?”

“I’ve been by myself after all, so I’ve actually been slacking. Also…”

He thought Haijima had turned towards the door, but he stopped for a moment and turned back, then pointed at Kuroba’s face, who was standing in place with his enthusiasm dampened. He left with high-handed words.

“The way you warm up is no good at all. We’ll have to start over from stretching. Wait here.”

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