Friday, April 8th, 2011 – 6:00 AM
Ryuido Amakusa was already awake.
The rest of the world could afford to hit snooze. But he couldn't. Not today.
The ache in his shoulders and calves whispered of yesterday's training—of jump serves slammed like war drums and rallies that scraped bone against will. He sat up on the futon, running a hand through now-messy-again hair. All that slick-back effort wasted in one night of honest sleep.
"Tch. Vanity's a losing game," he muttered. "I'm not a host club idol."
He stretched, bones cracking like worn floorboards, and stood. Still dark outside. Still early. Still time.
---
Karasuno Gym – 6:30 AM
The doors groaned open.
Coach Ukai Sr. stood at center court, bamboo sword resting lightly on his shoulder like a war banner. He wasn't surprised to see Ryuido. He rarely was.
"You're early," the old man said, glancing at him with those ever-dry eyes.
"Old man too."
Ukai grunted, then tossed a volleyball at him with an arm that suggested he'd spent decades perfecting the art of casual violence. "Warm up. You're serving first."
Ryuido didn't even flinch. He caught the ball with a single, effortless hand, his fingers wrapping around it like it was his destiny.
One by one, players trickled in.
Tanaka shuffled in with sleep still clinging to him like a second skin, munching on toast. His eyes looked like they might actually still be in another time zone.
Nishinoya bounced in, his usual, wild energy impossible to ignore. His hair, still defying gravity, seemed to have developed a mind of its own. "Let's goooo!" he shouted, throwing a fist in the air like it was match point.
Ennoshita had already begun stretching, his face calm as ever—though that calm could've been a front to hide the occasional rage-fueled thoughts he was undoubtedly having about the next drill.
Kinoshita came in, yawning dramatically, looking more like he'd been dragged out of a deep sleep than a morning workout.
Narita entered last, calm and collected as usual. If you weren't paying attention, you might think he was too chill to be a good volleyball player—but he was sharp when it mattered.
Then came the upperclassmen—Daichi, nodding in silent approval of the atmosphere. Asahi looked quietly determined, a fire in his eyes. Sugawara flashed his usual bright smile but couldn't resist the friendly jab:
"Hope you brought your lungs today. Coach's in a mood."
Ryuido, barely pausing, just gave a sharp nod. "Perfect. I'm in the mood to ruin a few."
---
Training Begins – 7:00 AM
First drill: Serve and receive.
Ryuido's jump serves—Balmung—whipped across the net with a crack, like the sound of a thunderstrike in the middle of a clear sky. They didn't just serve the ball—they shot it, like it had a vendetta against whoever was on the receiving end. Yahaba, the senior libero, nearly stumbled after a particularly aggressive one.
"Did that ball have teeth?!" Yahaba yelped, nursing his wrist like the ball had just bitten him.
Noya, grinning from ear to ear, practically jumped onto the court. "Coach let him keep serving those?! I'm about to die here!"
Ukai grunted, scribbling something in his ever-present notebook. "Until someone handles it without crying, yeah."
---
Second drill: Attack-receive rally.
Ryuido was paired with Kinoshita and Narita against Tanaka, Noya, and Ennoshita. The sets were fast, almost too fast—Ryuido's hands dancing across the ball, setting it up with perfect precision, then reading the opponents like an open book. Every move was calculated. Every decision, meticulous.
Tanaka's voice broke through the rhythm: "Counter-Tempo!" He was mocking him, but there was a sharp edge of respect there.
Ryuido grinned, then absolutely obliterated the ball with a spike so fierce, it was like he was trying to punch a hole in the net.
"Okay! That one was personal!" Noya howled, his laughter echoing through the gym like the sound of an explosion.
"You sure about that?" Tanaka shot back, wiping his brow dramatically.
Ryuido just shrugged. "Just warming up."
---
Third drill: Free-for-all scrimmage.
The chaos was immediate.
"Split by jersey numbers! Odds vs. evens!" Ukai barked, sounding like a general commanding his troops.
Noya dove into the fray, moving like a blur, a chaotic mess of flailing limbs and explosive energy. His dives looked like they belonged in a circus act more than a volleyball match, but that just made him more dangerous.
Ryuido, calm as ever, flowed through the madness with controlled grace. He spiked. He set. He received. He did everything with the kind of natural ease that made it look effortless. At one point, Sugawara tried to catch him off guard with a surprise set—Ryuido's reflexes kicked in faster than any of them could follow. He dove into a full-body save, rolling smoothly to his feet and setting up Kinoshita for a perfect attack.
The sound of the ball slamming down echoed in the gym.
Noya threw his hands in the air. "THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN' ABOUT!"
Daichi blinked, still in the middle of a defensive stance. "How did he even—"
Ukai's voice cut through the confusion. "He's starting to want it again. Good."
---
Post-Training – 8:30 AM
They collapsed into a circle on the floor, panting, their muscles protesting in the most beautiful way possible.
"That… was murder," Tanaka wheezed, sprawled out with his feet sticking in the air like a defeated bug.
"Best… kind of murder," Noya gasped, still half-laughing, unable to stop his grin.
Kiyoko passed out towels and water bottles, offering a faint smile as she did so.
Ryuido took his, muttering a quiet thanks, his gaze flicking over to her for a moment.
"You're getting better," Kiyoko said, her tone almost surprised.
He blinked. "You watched?"
"Always. I manage, remember?"
Ryuido looked at her—calm, observant, never loud. Then, quietly, he returned, "You really don't miss a thing."
She smiled faintly. "Neither do you." (It's A sarcasm guys)
He didn't answer. Just looked away quickly, his ears going slightly red despite himself.
"I always miss a thing though, I always forgot that you're our manager. Blame me!" He muttered that.
"Gravity." She teased him.
"Not again." Deadpan tone.
---
Ukai clapped his hands, loud and sharp.
"You all survived. Good. Be back here after class. We break bodies again before we rebuild them."
Ryuido slowly stood, still sore from every part of his body.
"Let's do it again."
The gym went silent.
Noya blinked, his expression somewhere between confused and impressed. "Huh?"
Ryuido looked down at his hands—calloused, scraped, trembling slightly, like they were beginning to speak their own language.
"Let's break our bodies again. While we still can."
The others stared.
Then, Tanaka's grin stretched across his face, and he slapped his hands together in excitement. "You heard him! Second wind after school!"
"YEAH!" Noya shouted, pumping his fist like he'd just won the world championship.
And that was it. The start of something.
---
End of chapter 5.