April 7th, 2011 – 7:30AM
Ryuido Amakusa was already dressed. Hair slicked back with nothing but his hands, uniform sharp, and not a drop of sweat in sight. He'd been up since six. Showered. Focused. Not because he wanted to impress anyone—definitely not the second-year manager with the cosmic aura and cheekbones sharp enough to kill a man. Nope. Not Kiyoko. Absolutely not.
"Itekimasu," he muttered.
"Iterasshai," came the polite reply from his host mother.
And just like that, Kusa—no, Amakusa Ryuido—was on the move, the Karasuno emblem on his chest gleaming faintly under the morning sun. He walked like a soldier returning to the battlefield. Which, if you knew his story, wasn't too far off.
Halfway to school, fate threw an orange-haired blur into his path.
Thump.
"Agh!" the kid yelped.
Kusa blinked down at the spiky-haired boy now scrambling to his feet.
"Be careful, kiddos."
"I-I'm sorry! I-I'm sorry!"
The orange blur kept bowing even after Kusa had sidestepped him with the grace of a man who had no time for children. He didn't know it, but the kid would be haunting his life real soon. Precisely one year later like a poltergeist with vertical.
#7:45AM – Class 1-B#
English class. Ryuido sat near the window. Ennoshita sat behind him. Kinoshita on the left. The room buzzed with the kind of early-morning lethargy that even caffeine couldn't fix.
"Ai lobu Englishu, Gudto Morningu!" Ryuido muttered when the teacher entered. He then corrected his muttering "I love English, good morning teacher!"
Kinoshita chuckled. "You speak it?"
Ryuido gave him a blank stare. "I'm fluent in disappointment and sarcasm. That count?"
Ennoshita smirked. "You'll fit in just fine."
#After School – Club Room 3:45PM#
The sun was still up, but the gym lights blazed like a coliseum before the bloodbath.
Coach Ukai Sr. stood in the center of the court, bamboo sword in one hand, towel draped around his neck like a general preparing for war.
"Alright, you cocky little brats," he barked. "Today we find out which one of you gets to cry into your futon first."
Shimizu Kiyoko, ever serene, stood by the gym doors with her clipboard. She watched silently, eyes scanning each player with the precision of a hawk. When Ryuido passed her, she nodded once.
"You came early," she noted.
"Wanted to stretch. Not to impress anyone."
"I didn't ask," she replied, but her smirk was almost imperceptible.
#Training Rally: The Baptism#
The first-years got thrown into the deep end.
Ukai had them scrimmage with the main team first. Not rotated in. Not protected. Thrown to the wolves. And the wolves were pissed.
"Tanaka! You call that a receive?" Yukigawa barked after drilling a serve right at his face.
"HELL YEAH, IT IS!" Tanaka yelled back as the ball smacked into the back wall.
Nishinoya was diving for everything. Everything. Even balls going out.
"I CAN SAVE THOSE!" he screamed.
"You CANNOT!" came Yahaba's retort.
Ennoshita, Kinoshita, and Narita were just trying to survive. Barely.
Then there was Kusa. Deadpan. Effortless. He moved like he was remembering rather than reacting.
A brutal rally kicked off. Daichi sent a serve that dipped like a curse. Noya flung himself under it, somehow keeping it up. Tanaka spiked. Yukigawa blocked. Ryuido rotated in, eyes scanning the chaos.
Ball up.
Sugawara moved to set.
But Kusa was already airborne.
"My Turn, Fafnir." He's so embarrassed and correct it "My Turn"
He snatched the ball mid-air, hands forming the cleanest back set the gym had seen all year. Tanaka, bewildered but grateful, slammed it home.
Boom.
The gym went still.
Ukai squinted. "Did I say you could show off your set, rookie?"
"I didn't hear a 'no,'" Ryuido replied, unfazed.
Yahaba whistled. "Cocky little—"
"Effective," Sugawara muttered. He wasn't sure if he felt admiration or territorial aggression.
#Drill Time: Punishment Sets#
Ukai wasn't done.
"We're doing rapid rotations. Loser sets. No breaks."
Sweat poured. Knees ached. Tanaka got a nosebleed. Noya yelled something about destiny. Ennoshita almost threw up.
And Ryuido? Ryuido was still moving like water. Precisely Hiding his back that sweating like water.
"Counter-Tempo," he whispered after another rally fake-out. The ball kissed the floor. The third-years stared at him like he was made of glitch code.
"Who is this guy?" Daichi muttered,curious about his past.
#6:00PM – Cool Down#
Practice ended. Bodies sprawled like fallen soldiers. The gym reeked of effort, tape, and pride.
Kiyoko handed out towels. Ryuido nodded at her in thanks.
"You don't smile much," she observed.
"I used to," he said.
"What changed?"
He looked at the Net and her with deadpan and serious tone:
"Gravity."
She said nothing. Just handed him a second towel and two bottles. She got flustered.. Or maybe awkward or tongue tied.
Ukai clapped his hands once. Everyone flinched.
"Tomorrow," he grunted, "we double the drills."
Groans everywhere.
Except from Ryuido.
He just smirked.
#9:00PM – Home#
Ryuido lay on his futon, staring at the ceiling again. Only this time, his body didn't ache from old trauma. It ached from new effort.
From progress.
From life.
He chuckled.
"…Let's break our bodies then. Maybe I can build something new."
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End of Chapter 4