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The late afternoon sun dipped low over Karasuno High, casting long shadows across the school grounds as the volleyball team dispersed from another intense practice.
Hinata's passionate plea to Asahi still lingered unresolved, but elsewhere, unseen wheels had already begun to turn.
In the quiet of the faculty office, Takeda Ittetsu sat hunched over his desk, red pen in hand, glasses sliding down his nose.
Papers lay scattered in a storm of midterm essays and club forms.
The shrill ring of the office phone cut through the stillness, making him jump.
He fumbled for the receiver, nearly knocking over a cup of pens.
"H-Hello, Takeda speaking," he said, straightening his glasses with a sigh, his voice polite but edged with fatigue.
A familiar gruff voice crackled through the line. "Hey, it's Yasufumi—Nekoma High's coach. Been a while."
Takeda sat upright, eyes widening. "Coach Yasufumi? Yes, it has! How's the team?"
Yasufumi chuckled. "Still scrappy as ever. Listen—I'm calling 'cause we're putting together a practice match. Karasuno versus Nekoma. Next week, if you're in. Time to stir the pot again, yeah? Crows versus Cats."
Takeda's breath caught.
His heart beat faster as excitement bubbled in his chest. "Next week? That's... yes! Absolutely, we're in! The boys will be thrilled—thank you for thinking of us!"
"Don't thank me yet," Yasufumi grunted. "Naoi'll be coaching alongside me. We'll see you then."
The line went dead with a click.
Takeda slowly lowered the phone, his thoughts racing.
Nekoma... a real test. But we can't go in without a coach.
He stood abruptly, pushing his chair back.
The thought burned in his mind: Ukai. He's the only one.
As he locked the office and stepped out into the cool evening air, Daichi's quiet resolve echoed in his memory—We need a coach.
The image of Hinata diving for a receive, Tsukishima's scowl of concentration, Kageyama's laser-focused sets—they all burned bright in his heart.
He began walking, the sky overhead bruising with purple dusk as his feet carried him instinctively toward town.
The Ukai Store stood nestled on the corner, its flickering neon sign buzzing softly.
Takeda stepped inside, the doorbell jingling above his head.
The smell of spice and smoke greeted him.
Behind the counter sat Keishin Ukai, slouched in his chair, cigarette dangling from his lips, a sports magazine opened across his lap.
He looked up with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.
"Takeda-sensei?" he drawled. "Back again? Persistent guy, huh?"
Takeda adjusted his glasses, stepping closer. "Ukai-kun, I know you're busy—but please, just hear me out one more time."
Ukai exhaled a lazy cloud of smoke, flipping a page in his magazine without looking up.
"We've been through this. I've got a business to run. Don't have time to babysit high schoolers swinging at balls."
Takeda didn't flinch.
His voice lowered, steady and sincere. "It's not babysitting—it's coaching. You're the grandson of Coach Ukai. The man who took Karasuno to nationals. That legacy—it's yours."
Ukai snorted, flicking ash into a tray. "My gramps was a legend. Doesn't mean I've got his chops. Volleyball's not my world anymore."
"It could be," Takeda said firmly. "This team—we have something real this year. Kageyama Tobio, a first-year setter. His control over the court is beyond his age—he dictates tempo like a pro. Tsukishima Kei—tall, sharp, learning fast. And Hinata Shoyo… he's small, but he moves like lightning. He's already spiking past triple blocks, blocking guys twice his size, and he's fearless."
Ukai's brow twitched.
Takeda pressed on, passion mounting. "They just beat Aoba Johsai. Two sets straight. Oikawa's team. And with third-years like Daichi, Sugawara… they're all in. They believe in this team, and they're hungry. They just need guidance—strategy. Structure. Someone to push them to their limit."
Ukai leaned forward slowly, the smoke curling around his face. "Aoba Johsai, huh? They beat that crew? Oikawa's not an easy wall to climb."
He stubbed out his cigarette. "Still doesn't change the fact that I've got a shop to run. Coaching's a full-time hassle I didn't ask for."
Takeda reached into his bag, pulling out a folded sheet of paper.
He didn't hand it over, just held it as if to steady his nerves. "Then just come watch one match. Next week—we've got a practice game lined up with Nekoma."
Ukai's fingers froze mid-reach for his lighter. His gaze sharpened instantly.
"Nekoma?" he said, slowly. "You serious?"
"Yes," Takeda said. "Old rivals, right? They're still sharp. Yasufumi's leading, but... Naoi Kaoru's co-coaching now."
Ukai's jaw clenched. His eyes darkened.
"Naoi?" he growled, voice low and rough like gravel. "That smug bastard's still coaching?"
He slammed the magazine shut, the thump echoing in the small store. "That punk's still struttin' around like he owns the damn court?"
Takeda nodded. "Yes. He'll be there, coaching against Karasuno. You can let him walk all over your team's legacy… or you can show him who's boss."
For a long moment, Ukai said nothing. His fists rested tight on the countertop, knuckles white.
"Son of a... Naoi always was full of it," he muttered. "Fine."
Takeda blinked. "Fine…?"
Ukai's eyes blazed. "I'll coach your damn team—but only up to the Nekoma match. That's it. I want to see Naoi's smug face when we crush those Cats."
Takeda's shoulders sagged with relief, the tension breaking into a wide, grateful smile. "Ukai-kun… thank you! You won't regret this, I swear."
Ukai waved him off, already reaching for his phone. "Yeah, yeah. Don't make a big deal outta it. Just don't disappoint me. Those first years better be as good as you say, or I'm out."
"They are," Takeda said, backing toward the door. "You'll see for yourself."
The bell jingled as he stepped back into the night, heart thudding with triumph.
Behind him, Ukai was already muttering into the phone, pacing in tight circles.
"Naoi, huh? We'll see how long you're laughing…"
The cool air bit at Takeda's cheeks as he walked home, but he barely noticed.
His mind was already leaping forward—imagining Ukai standing on the sidelines, arms crossed, eyes sharp as he watched the team. It's only for the Nekoma match... but that'll be enough.
They'll show him.
Hinata's energy, Spikes, blocks, Kageyama's precision, Tsukishima's defense—they'll remind him what volleyball can be.
The road stretched ahead under the starlit sky. A new chapter was beginning.
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To be continued…