Saturday practice spilled into the early evening, the golden hue of the sunset bleeding through the gym's high windows. The sound of sneakers squeaking on wood, of volleyballs thudding into the floor, and the occasional shout from Daichi or Sugawara filled the air with energy.
Karasuno Volleyball Club was beginning to wake from its long slumber.
And Riku Amagami stood in the middle of it all—awkward, drenched in sweat, and smiling faintly.
So this is what it feels like… to belong.
After practice, as the others filed out, Riku lingered to help gather cones and equipment. He carried a bag of volleyballs toward the equipment closet—only to nearly collide with someone exiting.
Wham.
Riku stepped back quickly. The guy in front of him was tall—almost as tall as Asahi—with short, spiked brown hair and a sharp jawline. His eyes were cool, unreadable, and his frame was built like a middle blocker's dream.
Riku recognized him immediately from the attendance sheet he'd secretly memorized.
Rensuke Kuroda. Second-year. Middle blocker. Played in the starting lineup last season.
The taller boy stared at him.
"You're the new guy?"
"Yeah," Riku said, straightening. "Riku Amagami."
"I know. You're the genius who can't serve straight but thinks he can direct the whole court."
The tone wasn't mocking—it was clinical. Like an autopsy.
Riku raised a brow. "I've improved."
"Doesn't matter. You haven't earned it yet."
"Earned what?"
Kuroda stepped closer, their height nearly equal, though Kuroda's shoulders were broader.
"This team was built from sweat and failure. From clawing back after being mocked as the flightless crows. We didn't rise because of talent—we rose because we bled for every point."
"I'm not trying to replace anyone," Riku said, calmly. "I'm just trying to catch up."
Kuroda's expression didn't shift.
"You think being smart makes you a leader? Makes you reliable? You're still an outsider."
Then he stepped around him and walked off, the door shutting with a soft click.
[System Prompt: New Rival Identified – Rensuke Kuroda]
Rivalry Trait: Cold Judgment
This player will resist your influence until you earn his respect through performance.
Reward for Overcoming: Bonded Skill Combo (Defense Break or Block Fade – TBA)
Riku sighed.
So not everyone's on board yet. Fair.
But the sharpness in Kuroda's words lingered like a thorn in his chest. Not because it was cruel—but because it was true.
He hadn't suffered for this game yet.
He'd been brilliant, but not battle-tested.
Not yet.
The Next Morning
Sunday was typically a break day, but the gym wasn't empty. As usual, Kiyoko Shimizu was already there, clipboard under arm, hair pulled neatly into a low ponytail. She looked like she'd walked straight out of a military drama—sharp posture, quiet presence.
She noticed Riku immediately as he entered, panting slightly from his morning run.
"You're early."
"You're always earlier," he replied.
Her lips twitched. Almost a smile. Almost.
"I need a favor," she said, turning toward the equipment shelves. "The team's uniform inventory hasn't been updated in months. I've been doing it alone."
"You want help?"
She nodded once.
Quest Triggered – "Iron Maiden's Trust"
Objective: Assist Kiyoko with full uniform inventory before Monday.
Reward: Bond Level +1 | +1 Volleyball IQ (Team Synergy Substat)
They worked for hours—folding jerseys, organizing kneepads by size, logging shoe conditions.
Riku didn't speak much. Neither did she. But between them, there was a quiet rhythm. Kiyoko was efficient, precise. She didn't tolerate laziness, and Riku respected that.
At one point, she handed him an old, worn number 4 jersey.
"This belonged to one of our former players," she said. "He dropped out after the team lost badly two years ago. We never filled his number again."
Riku held the jersey gently.
"That won't happen again," he said. "I'll make sure we don't need to bury another number."
Kiyoko paused.
"…You care a lot for someone new."
"I care because I'm new," he said. "And I've seen what it looks like to build something from nothing."
System Notification: +1 Kiyoko Affection.
Progress: "Iron Maiden's Trust" – 1/1 Complete
Reward Unlocked – "Early Tactical Input" (You may now influence in-game rotations once per match.)
As the sun began to fall and they finished the last of the shoe audit, Kiyoko finally turned to him.
"You're different from what I expected."
"Because I'm smart and smug?"
"Because you're smart enough to listen," she said.
And then, she smiled.
It was small.
It was fleeting.
But it was real.
Monday – After School Practice
Coach Ukai had returned from a short family trip. Young, sharp-eyed, and passionate, he immediately introduced match simulation as a daily drill.
"You're only as good as how you play under pressure," he barked. "Today: two full sets. We'll switch positions halfway through."
Riku was placed in the first rotation with Kuroda on his team.
The tension was immediate.
Kuroda didn't respond to his suggestions. Didn't call his movements. Didn't set up for syncs.
He's intentionally freezing me out.
But Riku didn't panic.
Instead, he watched.
He read.
He used Analyze like a scalpel—predicting Nishinoya's rolls, Asahi's approach angles, even Sugawara's setting tempo.
By the second set, he was already adjusting without speaking.
When Kuroda missed a timing block, Riku stepped in and saved the point with a dig.
When Kuroda refused to set up a double block, Riku shifted behind and absorbed a spike solo—barely landing it.
The gym went quiet for a moment.
Kuroda turned.
"Why'd you cover me?"
"Because you're part of my team," Riku said. "Even if you don't like me yet."
There was a flicker in the older boy's eyes.
Something… shifted.
[Rivalry Status: Neutral → Tentative Respect]
Bond Progress: 1/3 – Unlock Skill Sync upon completion
Stat Boost: +0.3 Defense | +0.2 Anticipation
As practice wrapped up, Coach Ukai clapped his hands.
"That's the best I've seen some of you move all month. Keep this up, and we'll be ready for spring qualifiers."
Riku sat near the wall, towel over his head, heart thudding—not from exhaustion, but from something deeper.
This team is full of broken pieces waiting to fit together.
And I'll be the one who sees how they all connect.