Monday mornings at Nekoma High always had a buzz of energy. Students shuffled through the hallways, chatting about their weekends. I was adjusting to the rhythm of school life, and though the classrooms were different from the volleyball court, I found my competitive spirit extended even here. My goal wasn't just to keep up academically but to excel.
"Hey, big guy! Wait up!" Lev's voice rang out as I turned the corner towards our classroom. He was impossible to miss, bounding through the halls with his usual enthusiasm.
"Morning, Lev," I greeted, smirking. "You're always this loud, huh?"
"Of course! Why waste energy being quiet?" he laughed. "Besides, everyone already knows we're the tallest guys in school. Might as well embrace it."
Lev's charisma was magnetic, and his easygoing nature made him an instant favorite among our classmates. While I wasn't as outgoing, I appreciated how his presence made my own adjustment smoother. By the time we settled into our seats, a group of students had gathered, asking about our experiences with the volleyball team so far.
"It's tough," I admitted, "but worth it. The team's incredible."
After classes ended, Lev and I headed straight to the gym. The scent of polished wood and the hum of teammates warming up greeted us. Practice began with the usual drills, but today Kuroo added a twist—pairing us with teammates for specialized training. I was partnered with Yaku, Nekoma's libero.
"Alright, newbie," Yaku said with a teasing grin. "Let's see how good your blocks really are."
We spent the next hour in an intense drill, with Yaku purposefully targeting areas where my blocks faltered. His sharp insights pushed me to adjust my timing and positioning.
"You're getting there," he said finally, offering a rare compliment. "But don't rely on just your height. Read the hitters, anticipate."
Lev's laughter echoed from the opposite court where he was practicing spikes with Kuroo. Despite the hard work, the atmosphere remained lighthearted. Kenma's quiet efficiency contrasted with the others' loud energy, but even he cracked a small smile when Lev dramatically flopped onto the floor after a failed spike.
After practice, the team lingered, sharing jokes and stories. It felt like a second family. Lev nudged me as we walked out of the gym.
"You fit in already," he said. "Told you Nekoma was the best."
At home, dinner conversations revolved around school and volleyball. My younger sister, a budding tennis player, peppered me with questions about the team.
"Are they as good as you?" she teased.
"Better," I admitted. "But that's why I'm there—to catch up."
That night, as I reviewed the day's events, I felt a sense of belonging. Between school, teammates, and family, my world was full, and I was ready to face whatever challenges came next.