The time was 3:30 PM. Classes were over, and the hallways buzzed with students spilling out into the afternoon air. Takumi Ryūji walked calmly toward the club room, a slip of paper with the address for the volleyball team manager's office in his hand. Miyu, walking beside him, seemed a little nervous.
"Ryu-chan, are you sure about this?" Miyu asked with a worried tone. "Wouldn't it be easier to join another club? The photography club or the chess club, for example?"
Ryūji suppressed a smirk. He felt calm, full of certainty. "No, I'm serious. I've found what I'm looking for."
Miyu whispered. "Misaki-senpai is known to be strict. I heard she rejects anyone who isn't serious."
They finally arrived at a small club room. Ryūji knocked on the door, and a soft voice invited them in. Inside, a short-haired girl sat behind a desk, her sharp eyes staring at them. This was Misaki Hana.
"Can I help you?" she asked flatly.
"My name is Takumi Ryūji, a second-year student," Ryūji said, his voice calm. "And I want to join the volleyball club."
Misaki's expression didn't change. "You know this club only accepts new students in their first year, right?"
"Yes, I know," Ryūji answered. "But I hope there can be an exception."
Misaki sighed. She looked at Ryūji's athletic build, then back at his eyes.
"Your reason?"
"I've only recently realized my passion for this sport," Ryūji answered honestly. "And I want to play volleyball seriously."
Misaki was silent for a moment. Finally, she took a form. "Alright. Our club has special practice this Saturday. Come and prove yourself. If you're not serious, you can go home right away."
Ryūji accepted the form with a small smile. "Thank you, Misaki-senpai."
The following days felt slow. Ryūji focused on self-preparation. He realized this body had a strength he needed to master. Power without control would only become a burden.
He spent the afternoon at a quiet park. An old volleyball from Miyu was in his hand.
"Alright, let's begin," Ryūji muttered to himself.
He jumped. Not a regular jump. The height of his upper body easily passed a high tree branch. Ryūji landed, his breathing steady. He repeated the jump, this time with a different goal—he was trying to measure the optimal height for a spike over the net. The first jump was too high, the second too low. He kept trying until he finally found the perfect angle.
"This jump is like a weapon," he thought. "I need to know how to aim it."
Then, he began to practice precision. He threw the ball against a wall, then tried to make the ball bounce back into his hand with the right amount of force. He kept throwing it at different angles and strengths, training his reflexes and intuition to predict where the ball would move.
"I can feel it," Ryūji whispered. "Every movement, every bounce. I can predict the ball's direction and what to do next."
One afternoon, while he was practicing passing against the wall, he crossed paths with a group of students walking casually along the edge of the park. Their laughter and chatter were noisy. Among them, a blond student with an ear piercing, Terushima Yūji, stood out. True to his reputation, he looked relaxed and full of energy, jumping and joking with his friends.
Suddenly, Terushima stopped. The laughter on his face faded, replaced by an expression of curiosity. He didn't know Ryūji. To him, Ryūji was just a stranger. However, the way Ryūji was practicing caught his attention. Ryūji wasn't jumping wildly or hitting the ball recklessly. He was just throwing the ball against the wall with controlled force, catching it, then repeating it again, over and over, with a strange precision.
"Hey, look at that," Terushima muttered to his friends, pointing at Ryūji.
"Who is he? Never seen him in any club," said one of his friends.
"His training is so weird," added another.
Ryūji ignored Terushima and returned to his practice. He wasn't interested in unimportant interactions. Terushima shrugged, a smile returning to his face. "What a weirdo," he muttered, then rejoined his friends. "Let's go!"
That night, in his room, Ryūji stood in front of a mirror. He looked at his reflection. A strong body, eyes full of determination. That face was no longer a stranger. He had come to know it.
"Takumi Ryūji," he whispered to the mirror. "You are ready."
The next day.
The morning sun on Saturday was shining brightly, warming the ground in Miyagi Prefecture. The spring air felt fresh, carrying the scent of newly bloomed flowers. For some students, this was a long-awaited day off to relax. But for Takumi Ryūji, today was the beginning of everything.
He arrived at the Johzenji High School gym earlier than the time Misaki Hana had specified. The gym door was still partially closed, revealing a dark silhouette inside. Ryūji opened the door wider, and the sound of squeaking shoes on the wooden floor immediately greeted him. Several team members had already arrived, doing light warm-ups and passing the ball.
Ryūji observed them. He knew from his memories of the anime that the Johzenji team was known for its "flexible and unpredictable" playing style—they valued fun and freedom of expression on the court more than rigid formations. His eyes scanned the court, looking for familiar faces.
In the corner of the gym, a blond student with a piercing, Terushima Yūji, was doing a casual spike toward his setter, Futamata Takeharu. The satisfying smack of the ball hitting his palm sounded crisp. Terushima laughed cheerfully after successfully scoring, as if every hit was part of a fun game.
Nearby, Tsuciyu Arata, a libero in the same class as Ryūji, was practicing receives. His movements were fluid, showing a calmness that contrasted with Terushima's excessive energy. His gaze occasionally swept over Ryūji, as if wondering why Ryūji was there.
"Oh, you're here?"
Misaki Hana's voice came from behind Ryūji. She was carrying a clipboard in her hand. Her sharp eyes scrutinized Ryūji from head to toe.
"It seems you are serious."
"Of course," Ryūji answered, his voice steady without a hint of doubt.
Misaki nodded. "Alright. Practice will start soon. Just follow what the coach says." She then shouted to call the entire team. "Everyone, gather!"
The Johzenji team members immediately gathered. They all looked at Ryūji with curiosity.
"Good morning, everyone!" Misaki greeted them. "We have a new member today. Takumi Ryūji, a second-year student. He wants to join the team."
Murmurs were heard among the players. Some whispered to each other, while others just stared at Ryūji in confusion. Terushima raised an eyebrow, his smile slightly disappearing. He recognized Ryūji as the "weirdo" he had seen in the park.
"My name is Takumi Ryūji. Please guide me," Ryūji said with a short bow.
The team's coach, Anabara, a middle-aged man with a calm expression, stepped forward. "Alright, Ryūji-kun. Welcome. We will start the warm-up soon. After that, we will do some basic drills. I want to see what you can do."
Ryūji nodded, his heart pounding not from nervousness, but from anticipation and certainty. This was the moment. This was his stage. He was ready to show what the new Takumi Ryūji could do.
The warm-up session began with laps around the court. Ryūji easily matched the team's speed, even slightly ahead of a few members. His new body's stamina was truly amazing. After the warm-up, the basic drills started. Coach Anabara asked the players to do passing and receiving in pairs. Ryūji was paired with a nervous-looking first-year student.
"Just relax," Ryūji whispered. "Let's begin."
"Okay, Ryūji-kun. Show me what you've got," said Coach Anabara.
Ryūji took his position. The ball was passed to him. With reflexes honed over the last week, Ryūji passed the ball back perfectly, to the exact spot where his partner could easily set up for a spike. His movements were smooth, yet full of controlled power.
Other team members started to pay attention. They were surprised by the accuracy and power of Ryūji's passing. Tsuciyu Arata, who was practicing on the other side of the court, glanced at Ryūji with a serious expression. "Is he a setter?" he muttered. "His passing is perfect."
Next, the spiking drill. Ryūji was positioned as a spiker. Futamata, the team's reliable setter, passed the ball to him. The sensation returned. His body felt light, yet full of explosive potential. His eyes read every movement of Futamata, every rotation of the ball. He could predict the best point of contact. He jumped, easily surpassing the height of the other players, as if piercing the gym ceiling
BAM!
The ball hit the floor with incredible force, making a thunderous sound throughout the gym. Bobata Kazuma, the middle blocker tasked with blocking, didn't even have time to react. He could only stare in disbelief.
Instantly, the atmosphere in the gym fell silent. All eyes were on Ryūji, who had just landed calmly. He just gave a small smile.
"Whoa..." Terushima Yūji was the first to break the silence. "He's a monster!"
One of Terushima's friends, Higashi, walked closer. "Teru, he's that weirdo we saw in the park. He can really play."
Terushima looked at Ryūji with sparkling eyes. "A cool weirdo! Futamata-san, set it again!"
Futamata, still surprised, nodded. He passed the ball again. This time, Ryūji jumped higher, aiming for a more difficult spot. "I can see it," Ryūji thought. "The weak point in their block."
SMACK!
The ball sped past the blockers and hit the floor hard, leaving a black mark. The entire team looked at him in disbelief.
"Incredible..." Bobata muttered, cold sweat soaking his forehead. "I couldn't react."
Coach Anabara gave a small smile. Misaki Hana scribbled something on her clipboard, this time with a much more serious expression.
Ryūji had made a statement. This was not just a beginning. This was the start of a revolution for the Johzenji team.