Shinzen High School, Main Gate. Saturday, 7:30 AM.
The morning air was crisp, a sharp contrast to the suffocating humidity of the week. Five buses were lined up in the parking lot, engines idling with a low, rhythmic rumble that signaled the end of the summer camp.
Ryuu leaned against the side of the red Nekoma bus, his arms crossed and a black hoodie pulled over his head. He watched the chaos of teams packing their gear. It was a ritual—the clanking of metal poles, the shouting of directions, and the frantic search for missing socks that had inevitably been lost in the laundry room.
"Ryuu, stop looking cool and help me with this crate," Yaku grumbled, lugging a heavy box of sports drinks toward the bus.
"I'm not 'looking cool,' Yaku-san. I'm mourning the loss of the Shinzen milk bread," Ryuu said, though he moved instantly to take the crate from the shorter libero. He lifted it with one hand as if it were filled with feathers. "Besides, if I help too much, Lev will never learn to be useful."
"I HEARD THAT!" Lev shouted from inside the bus, where he was currently tangled in a net he was trying to fold.
A heavy hand slammed into Ryuu's shoulder. He didn't have to turn around to know who it was. The smell of hair wax and sheer competitive energy was a dead giveaway.
"RYUU!" Bokuto shouted, looking remarkably awake for someone who had been eating BBQ until 11 PM. "I've decided! I'm not just going to be the 'Challenger.' I'm going to be the 'Ace-Eater!' I'm going to start with you, and then I'm going to find Ushiwaka and eat his lunch too!"
Ryuu chuckled, adjusting the crate in the bus's luggage compartment. "An 'Ace-Eater'? Sounds like you're starting a food blog, Bokuto-san. But seriously, keep that energy. If you're not at 100% when we meet at the Orange Court, I'll be disappointed."
Bokuto grinned, pointing a finger at Ryuu's chest. "Orange Court. I'll see you there, #1. Don't you dare lose to some random school before I get to stuff you."
"I don't plan on losing at all," Ryuu replied with a cheeky wink. "But thanks for the concern."
Akaashi gave Ryuu a polite nod. "Take care of him, Gojou-san. And congratulations again. You've given everyone here a very clear target to aim for."
As the Karasuno team began boarding their dusty bus, Ryuu spotted the "Freak Duo" standing by the entrance. Hinata was vibrating, his face a mix of exhaustion and a strange, new light. Kageyama stood next to him, staring at Ryuu with a terrifyingly focused intensity.
Ryuu walked over, his hands in his pockets.
"Still alive, Chibi-chan?" Ryuu asked, stopping in front of Hinata. "How are the legs? Did the 'Spring Fibers' kick in?"
Hinata turned bright red. "Kageyama told me this morning that green onions don't actually have jump-enzymes! You lied to me, Gojou-san!"
Ryuu barked a laugh, ruffling Hinata's orange hair. "I didn't lie. I just... creatively encouraged you to eat your vegetables. You did hit that wipe yesterday, didn't you? Maybe it was the onions, maybe it was the fear of being crushed. Either way, it worked."
Hinata's expression shifted from annoyed to dead serious. He looked up at Ryuu, ignoring the height difference. "Next time we play... I'm going to see through your block every single time. I won't need luck."
Ryuu's smirk softened into something more genuine. He looked at both Hinata and Kageyama.
"The view at the top is pretty great," Ryuu said, his voice quiet but echoing with the authority of the #1 Ace. "But it's lonely if there's no one there to challenge you. Don't fall down in the Miyagi qualifiers. If you want to take the crown, you have to make it to the National stage first."
Kageyama tightened the straps of his bag. "We're coming for you, Gojou. Don't get comfortable."
"I wouldn't dream of it, King," Ryuu replied.
As Ryuu turned back toward the Nekoma bus, he saw Shimizu Kiyoko standing by the equipment shed, doing a final headcount of the Karasuno balls.
He didn't hesitate. He walked over, pulling something out of his hoodie pocket. It was a small, high-quality wristband—the heavy-duty kind used by pro-circuit players to prevent sweat from reaching the palms.
"For the collection," Ryuu said, holding it out.
Shimizu looked at the wristband, then at him. "Gojou-kun?"
"You lost one yesterday near Court B," Ryuu said, spinning it on his finger before handing it over. "And honestly, you guys are going to need all the support you can get. The Miyagi qualifiers are brutal. Tell your guys that if they make it to the Tokyo Nationals, I'll buy the whole team BBQ. On me."
Shimizu took the wristband, a rare, soft smile touching her lips. "That's a very expensive promise, Ryuu-kun. Our team eats a lot."
"I'm the #1 Ace," Ryuu grinned, leaning against the shed. "I think I can afford a few plates of beef for the Crows. Besides, it's an investment. I want them at their best when I shut them down."
"I'll tell them," Shimizu said, adjusting her glasses. "Good luck in the Tokyo Qualifiers. Though I don't think you'll need it."
"Luck is for people who can't hit a line-shot," Ryuu teased. "See you in Tokyo, Shimizu-san."
Ryuu climbed onto the Nekoma bus and took his usual seat at the back next to Kenma. The setter was already hunched over his console, but he didn't have a game loaded. He was watching a video of Ryuu's serve from the day before.
"You're obsessed, Kenma," Ryuu said, leaning his head back against the window.
"I'm calculating," Kenma corrected without looking up. "The trajectory of your new serve changes the defensive positioning of the entire team. I have to rewrite three of our rotations."
Ryuu closed his eyes, the hum of the bus engine vibrating through his skull. He thought about the magazine, the #1 ranking, the look in Hinata's eyes, and the weight of the gold medal sitting in his bag back at the apartment.
The summer was over. The practice matches were done. From here on out, every game was a "win or go home" scenario.
As the bus pulled out of the Shinzen gates, Ryuu caught a glimpse of the Karasuno bus in the side mirror, heading north toward Miyagi.
"Hey, Kenma," Ryuu said, a sleepy but dangerous grin appearing on his face.
"What?"
"Don't rewrite the rotations too much. I'm planning on being even faster by the time we hit the playoffs."
Kenma sighed, but his thumbs moved faster on the screen. "I figured you'd say that. Just don't break the floor."
Ryuu looked out at the passing Saitama greenery, his mind already miles away, visualizing the bright lights of the Metropolitan Gymnasium. The Red Giant was heading home, and Tokyo wasn't ready for what was coming next.