"Shirabu, setting isn't just about precision, timing is just as important!"
The guidance from Nobuteru Irihata rang in Kenjiro Shirabu's ears. Though Irihata didn't have as long a coaching career as Washijo Tanji, his experience with setters was undeniably deeper and more refined.
"Yes, sir! Thank you for the advice!"
Shirabu responded loudly from the court, his practice now showing he was long accustomed to Irihata's feedback.
Washijo Tanji glanced over at Irihata without a word, then barked, "What are you doing, Kunimi?! No slacking during practice, focus!"
Akira Kunimi stiffened like a soldier being called out, feeling the metaphorical feathers on his back rise.
"Y-Yes, understood!" he replied in a panic.
Washijo's eyes weren't just shaped like a vulture's, they carried the same piercing sharpness. Against that hawk-like stare, Kunimi's badge as a professional slacker offered no protection.
"Why? Why did things turn out like this?!" Kunimi cried inside, pining for the good old days under Irihata's relatively gentle training.
But sadly, those days were long gone.
Irihata had fallen, and in mere hours, he'd completely assimilated into the culture of Shiratorizawa.
And it had all started when Washijo had casually offered Iwaizumi some tips...
At first, Washijo's decision to coach Iwaizumi seemed purely driven by his sense of responsibility as an experienced coach, not wanting to see a promising player's talent wasted in an ill-fitting position.
Then Irihata gave a small pointer to one of Shiratorizawa's players, probably just to reciprocate the favor, keeping things even between teams.
But once both coaches had done the same thing... things began to shift, just a little at first.
Washijo: "Oi, kid. Are you trying to challenge me or something?"
Irihata: "My, my. Still got that bark, old man?"
And so it began.
Before anyone realized what was happening, the players from both teams found themselves being coached by someone else entirely.
────────── ✦ ──────────
"Oi, Oikawa! That last ball, you could've set to Akashi. Why'd you go with the middle blocker? You do know the ace should always be the core of the offense, right?"
Oikawa Tooru: "..."
"Hey, Ushiwaka! You don't always have to spike full power. Try mixing in a tip shot now and then. Score's still a score."
Ushijima Wakatoshi: "..."
"Idiot! Dumbass! You need some presence when you're blocking! If the other team doesn't even feel pressured, what's the point?!"
Yutaro Kindaichi: "..."
"Don't rush it. You're a team, remember? Volleyball isn't a solo sport. Ushiwaka's a beast, sure, but if the ball never gets to him, he's useless."
Tendo Satori: "..."
Both Washijo and Irihata were as stubborn as ever, but their personalities couldn't have been more different.
At first, neither team knew how to handle the switch. One side felt weird not getting yelled at, while the other couldn't take a breath without getting scolded.
But over time, both teams began to feel the benefits of a fresh perspective.
Especially Shirabu Kenjiro and Akashi Asuka, both were learning a lot.
Both Washijo and Irihata were veteran coaches with a history of leading teams to nationals. Their knowledge and insight were a goldmine.
Irihata excelled at team-based volleyball, and since the setter is the soul of such a system, he had plenty of experience nurturing them.
In contrast,
Washijo was less suited to team strategies but specialized in developing standout, star-player types, the so-called "aces."
Even after just a few hours, Akashi Asuka was already reaping the benefits of Washijo's insight.
The two coaches noticed this too.
So, after the first match, they ditched the idea of keeping teams separated. Instead, they started mixing the players randomly from both schools and rotating combinations.
This continued for several days.
Both teams gained immensely from the training... until, eventually, they hit a plateau again.
────────── ✦ ──────────
Evening.
After practice, everyone gathered at Aoba Johsai's training base.
"Ahhh, I'm starving!"
"Dinner, dinner! Hey, Seijoh, have you guys prepared dinner yet?"
"Hah? Do we look like your catering service? Figure it out yourselves!"
"What?! We helped you guys move in, Oikawa even promised to treat us! Don't tell me you're backing out!"
That's right.
Starting today, Aoba Johsai had officially decided to camp overnight at the beach too.
The main reason?
Shiratorizawa had already been doing it, gaining nearly three extra hours of training each day. Seijoh couldn't afford to fall behind.
Definitely not because staying overnight at the beach was more fun. Nope. Not at all.
"Treat us?"
Yahaba Shigeru, who had been arguing with Tendo, blinked and turned to look at Oikawa. The latter quietly turned his back, the word "guilty" practically written all over him.
Seeing this, a bad feeling crept up Tendo's spine.
"Oi... You guys didn't forget, did you?! You're kidding, right?! We canceled our dinner reservations at the inn just for this!"
"Ahem..."
With a dozen eyes locked on him, Oikawa had no choice but to clear his throat and sheepishly say,
"Well, it's not like we didn't prepare anything. The kitchen's fully stocked, and we bought ingredients, so… does anyone here know how to cook?"
Everyone: "..."
Silence fell across the dormitory.
Dozens of eyes bored into Oikawa for a few tense seconds, enough to make his skin crawl.
Then, whack!, a pillow flew across the room and smacked him square in the chest. Chaos erupted.
"COOK MY ASS!!"
"AAARGHHH, Seijoh YOU JERKS, I'M GONNA STARVE!!"
"OIKAWA YOU IDIOT! GET HIM!!"
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