The next day, Yoriko Arisu and Kenma Kotsume went to watch the match.
Unfortunately, they didn’t get to see Tetsurou Kuroo looking cool.
Or rather, they did see him working hard to receive and hit the ball, and that was cool, but he lost the match.
And lost badly.
The almost doubled score difference made the atmosphere on the Nekoma Elementary School side gloomy.
Tetsurou Kuroo lowered his head, his once-upright hairstyle drooping, looking like a defeated rooster.
Even when he saw his childhood friends coming to pick him up, there wasn’t a trace of a smile on Tetsurou Kuroo’s face.
Yoriko Arisu tried her best to praise him.
“Shiro is amazing! You blocked so many times!”
“……”
“Your saves were great too! So many balls that looked like they would hit the ground were saved by Shiro!”
“……”
It was hopeless. He didn’t react at all. He looked completely crushed.
Yoriko Arisu sent a pleading look to Kenma Kotsume.
Kenma Kotsume put his game console into his bag and spoke slowly.
“Want to level up?”
Tetsurou Kuroo sniffled and quickly wiped the corner of his eye.
“I do.”
So the three of them ran to the small river they hadn’t visited in a long time to play Volleyball.
Tetsurou Kuroo seemed to want to vent all his frustration from losing, and every shout was almost a roar.
“Again!”
“Again!”
Nekoma lacked strong offense. Even if they could receive the ball, without scoring, they’d just fall into a drawn-out tug-of-war.
During practice, Tetsurou Kuroo kept spiking the ball, the sound thudding on his arm, bringing a tingling sensation.
Yoriko Arisu caught the ball on the other side of the net, thinking: She had always wondered, was Shiro’s strength a bit weak?
The opposing Main Attacker’s spikes during the match made a thumping sound and looked powerful, but when she received Shiro’s ball, she didn’t feel the same.
Tetsurou Kuroo stared at his palm, looking devastated.
“……Is my strength really that small?”
Only then did Yoriko Arisu realize she’d spoken her thoughts out loud.
She hurriedly explained.
“No, no! Shiro, your blocking and saves are amazing!”
Kenma Kotsume withdrew his passing hand and sighed.
“So, you’re admitting Shiro’s strength is small?”
No one praised his attack.
He’s a Main Attacker, isn’t saying his strength is small just like saying he can’t break through the enemy’s defense?
Tetsurou Kuroo:
“Ugh… It’s all my fault.”
He didn’t cry after losing the match, but now Tetsurou Kuroo burst into tears, tears rolling down like broken pearls.
Yoriko Arisu felt guilty for saying the wrong thing, pacing helplessly beside him.
“I’m sorry, Shiro, don’t cry.”
She took tissues from her bag and handed them to him, looking back at Kenma.
“Kenma, you say something too.”
Kenma Kotsume looked at the sky and thought.
“We’ve been playing for a long time. I’m hungry.”
Yoriko Arisu: “Then let’s eat. Shiro, after the match, you practiced for so long. Aren’t you hungry?”
As soon as she finished, Tetsurou Kuroo’s stomach rumbled in perfect sync.
It was a loud, drawn-out sound.
Because of it, Tetsurou Kuroo’s crying paused, and he hiccuped.
“Eat… hic… what?”
Tetsurou Kuroo suggested ramen, but Kenma Kotsume rejected it.
“If you eat ramen now, you won’t have room for dinner at home.”
If no one eats the food made at home, Mom’s expression turns scary.
“Not enough change, either.”
Yoriko Arisu looked at the coins in her wallet, troubled.
“Feels like there isn’t enough for ramen.”
“Let’s eat Onigiri?”
She looked at the others.
“The kind coated in Soybean Flour and Youtiao Crumbs. Cheap and delicious.”
Tetsurou Kuroo sniffled, voice muffled.
“Then… hic… Onigiri.”
Each bought two skewers of Onigiri, and the three squatted by the roadside, eating slowly.
Yoriko Arisu:
“Konbini is better. There are chairs outside.”
Kenma Kotsume:
“Because Konbini is big. How could a street stall have benches?”
Tetsurou Kuroo had already finished his share, staring blankly at the other two and hiccuping, like a small fish blowing bubbles.
Kenma Kotsume handed him another Onigiri.
“Here. I can’t finish it.”
Yoriko Arisu also handed one over.
“It’s a different flavor. Very tasty!”
Seeing the two childhood friends looking after his feelings, Tetsurou Kuroo’s tears threatened to fall again.
His eyes turned watery.
“Uuu, you two… hic… don’t make me cry, hic!”
Then he obediently ate the Onigiri.
Because he choked a little on it, he went to buy a drink.
While Tetsurou Kuroo went to the Vending Machine, Yoriko Arisu worried.
“Why is Shiro still hiccuping?”
It was the first time she’d seen hiccups last so long.
She couldn’t help but worry it might harm his body.
Kenma Kotsume:
“I have a way.”
He silently approached Tetsurou Kuroo, who was still fretting over what flavor to choose, and suddenly slapped him hard on the back.
Tetsurou Kuroo jolted, and if he’d had a tail, it would’ve bristled.
He exclaimed.
“What are you doing all of a sudden?”
Kenma Kotsume looked at Yoriko Arisu, then back.
“You’re not hiccuping anymore.”
Tetsurou Kuroo paused for two seconds, surprised.
“Really.”
***
After that, whenever there was no club activity at the Volleyball Club, Tetsurou Kuroo would drag Yoriko Arisu and Kenma Kotsume to play Volleyball together.
Kenma Kotsume clutched his backpack straps tightly, frowning as if he could crush a fly.
“Is this really necessary?”
Tetsurou Kuroo had recently been training extra, mainly spiking, so Kenma had to pass him the ball at a fixed angle repeatedly.
Keeping his hands raised, his arms were starting to ache after two days and he was protesting.
Even his hand trembled when using chopsticks.
“Can’t we train something else, like digging or something…”
Tetsurou Kuroo had already swiftly set up the net hidden under the bridge, hugging the Volleyball he carried to and from school, looking at Kenma with pleading eyes.
“Kenma, please.”
Yoriko Arisu looked left, then right, showing the same pitiful expression.
“Kenma, please.”
Kenma Kotsume sighed helplessly.
“One Apple Pie.”
Tetsurou Kuroo clenched his fist.
“Alright!”
As usual, the day ended with Tetsurou Kuroo happily hugging the Volleyball, bumping it as he walked home.
Yoriko Arisu:
“Shiro, do you want to strengthen your spikes?”
“Yeah,” Tetsurou Kuroo caught the Volleyball dropping from the air, a little embarrassed.
“I want to train more, even if it’s just a little, to close the gap with other Main Attackers.”
Yoriko Arisu:
“But isn’t strength something you’re born with?”
Tetsurou Kuroo choked.
“I’m still growing! My strength will increase!”
“As long as I train… and build muscle!”
He raised his voice as he spoke, perhaps trying to convince himself.
Kenma Kotsume:
“No wonder you’ve been eating more lately.”
It seemed he’d grown taller, too.
“My appetite has grown, too. What about you, Kenma?”
Yoriko Arisu asked curiously.
Kenma Kotsume.
“Yeah… But I’ll surpass you soon. I mean in height.”
Tetsurou Kuroo felt this deeply.
It was too embarrassing for a boy to be shorter than a girl!
He leaned in to Kenma Kotsume’s ear and whispered.
“I’ll cheer for you. From now on, I’ll save my lunch milk for you.”
Kenma Kotsume:
“…Thanks, but no need.”
He felt milk didn’t do much for him.
Somehow, his feelings were complicated.
After some time training, Tetsurou Kuroo invited them to watch another match.
Then got crushed again.
This time, Tetsurou Kuroo was much calmer. Though still downcast, he was able to adjust his mood and smile at his childhood friends.
Tetsurou Kuroo stretched his palm, clenching and unclenching several times, then took a deep breath.
“Alright! I won’t give up!”
“Again! Let’s keep special training!”
He didn’t know where it went wrong, but during a pass, the Volleyball suddenly hit his face. Tetsurou Kuroo grunted, covering his mouth, tasting blood in his mouth.
His front tooth fell out.
Tetsurou Kuroo’s smile vanished.
He was no longer the little boy who could laugh happily.
He spoke much less.
“It’s okay, Shiro. Everyone goes through this time. Don’t stop talking.”
After training, during snack time, Yoriko Arisu stayed by his side, trying to cheer up her childhood friend, who was depressed because of losing a tooth.
Tetsurou Kuroo, without a smile, looked much fiercer.
Combined with his odd hairstyle, he often scared younger kids passing by.
Yoriko Arisu hadn’t expected him to be self-conscious about his image. Without his chattering companion, the walk home felt much quieter.
Instead, Kenma Kotsume started a conversation.
“Shiro is actually better suited as a Vice Attacker.”
Kenma Kotsume bit into a Senbei and said,
“Good at defense, draws enemy attention well, moves fast, and is tall.”
As expected, when it came to Volleyball, Tetsurou Kuroo opened his mouth.
The rooster-haired boy pouted stubbornly.
“But Main Attackers are cooler.”
He spoke with a whistle, making his voice sound strange.
Yoriko Arisu finally understood why Tetsurou Kuroo didn’t want to talk.
For every sentence, half had to be guessed based on familiarity.
Tetsurou Kuroo was oblivious, making a spiking gesture.
“Breaking through the defense and scoring, all eyes turn to you!”
Kenma Kotsume:
“Vice Attackers can score, too. Just not as many opportunities as Main Attackers.”
Tetsurou Kuroo:
“Uuugh.”
Yoriko Arisu signaled with her eyes: Is that comfort?
Kenma Kotsume: It’s the truth.
Accepting that you lack talent is hard, especially for a child full of self-confidence.
Main Attackers can score more and are more dazzling on the court, so everyone wants to stand out.
But Volleyball is a team sport. Without any member, the match can’t be completed.
Tetsurou Kuroo was silent for a long time, swallowed his Onigiri in one gulp, then suddenly stood up from the bench.
“I get it! I’ll talk to the Coach!”
“I-I’ll be a Vice Attacker.”
Kenma Kotsume shifted on the bench, sliding down like a liquid cat.
“I think the Coach probably already knows.”
In other words, among a bunch of short kids, Shiro was already playing pretty well, so he was put in the Main Attacker position.
Tetsurou Kuroo’s momentum instantly deflated, looking petrified.
Yoriko Arisu looked at him sympathetically, stood up, threw away her bamboo skewer, and patted Tetsurou Kuroo on the shoulder.
“Look forward to middle school.”
Elementary school is a lost cause.
Tetsurou Kuroo grabbed his head.
“Don’t give up so quickly!”