Mari-chan’s serve hit the net and stopped.
BEEEP!!
The final whistle blew. When I looked back, Mari-chan had dropped to her knees and started crying.
Set count: 1–2
Our summer had come to an end.
…I know I shouldn't say this, but—I’m glad it was Mari-chan who made the mistake. If it was Mari-chan, then it couldn’t be helped. Mari-chan is the most reliable player we have, the one who does everything smoothly, makes the fewest mistakes, and plays the most steadily. And thinking about the pressure she must’ve felt…
We were one point behind. The opponent had match point.
Normally you’d want to play it safe. But standing in their front row was that monster girl with height like a boy’s. If you serve halfheartedly, the ball would come flying back as a powerful spike in an instant. That meant we had to serve aggressively. But just one mistake would mean their victory.
That kind of pressure—just imagining it makes my stomach hurt.
And it was only Mari-chan. Up until that last moment, she was the only one who hadn’t missed a serve. Me, Yacchin, everyone else—we had all missed at least once. Of course, those were aggressive serves, so in a way, it couldn’t be helped. Still, we gave up five or six points like that. It just happened that Mari-chan’s mistake was the final one. But the only person among us who would blame her for that—
Was Mari-chan herself.
Even though it’s the same one point, just because it was the last one, it feels heavier (at least to the person who missed it). I get why she’d want to cry. But as the captain, I have to say this.
“Mari-chan. Stand up. We have to line up.”
・
・
・
“““““Thank you very much!!”””””
From the end line, this was probably our last official post-game bow. Mari-chan was still crying, but she ran over to the net and shook hands with the Matsubara Girls players. As captain, I also shook hands with their captain and the head and assistant referees.
“Congratulations. Your semifinal’s against Himesaki—good luck.”
“Thanks. Our ace is going to smash right through Himesaki.”
I had misjudged the enemy. She was the true pillar of Matsubara Girls.
“Thank you for seeing it through to the end.”
“You too. Good job out there.”
This match was a long one. Plus, someone even had to be taken to the infirmary midway, so I’m sure it was tough for the referees too.
“Thank you for your time.”
“You were very courteous. Get home safe, okay?”
When I looked at the clock, it was almost 7 p.m. It was already evening…
After finishing greetings, I looked around the court—and there she was, the angel girl.
…Looking like this, she’s just an angel. But during the match, she turned into such a monster…
Before I knew it, I was walking toward her.
“You’re Yuuri-chan, right? You were amazing.”
She really was amazing. They say you can’t judge people by appearances, and angel-chan was the perfect example. When I reached out my right hand, she took it and shook it with her own right hand. Her palm was soft—but with a slight firmness to it too.
To have different firmness in her right and left hands… just how much has she practiced?
“Ichikawa-senpai, you were amazing too! I’ve never seen a player who could do so many things like you!”
Maybe she’s just being polite? But she looked at me with such sparkling eyes.
This girl… she really is adorable. Not fair.
Even just her looks are practically against the rules. But her voice is cute too, and her volleyball talent is way beyond mine. That jumping power—I honestly think it could take her to the world stage. And on top of that, she doesn’t get cocky and keeps working hard. It’s just not fair.
Before I realized it, I had wrapped my free left arm around angel-chan and pulled her close to my chest.
“I’m really glad someone as amazing as you was our final opponent. Now I can retire with no regrets.”
…I’m sure this girl is going to become an incredible player in the future. When that happens, I’m totally going to brag. “I once received a spike from that Tachibana Yuuri. I even pushed her to the edge.”
Even so, angel-chan really isn’t fair. Cute looks, cute voice, and now that I’ve hugged her, she even smells nice…
!!
Oh no! I’m all sweaty right now! She’s gonna think, “This girl smells sweaty!”
Keeping a straight face, I let go of angel-chan and said,
“That was a really great match.”
Then, pretending to stay calm, I quickly walked away and headed back to my team.
＝＝＝＝＝＝
All of us gathered around Kumada-sensei, our expressions downcast. Mari-chan was still crying. A few others were crying too.
“You fought well. Winning and losing can come down to luck. We were just one step short, but it was a good match.”
That was the teacher’s summary. I really do think we were just one step away. But there were some who voiced their frustration. That if we had really played our best, we could’ve won.
The breaks between matches were too short. Yacchin couldn’t play most of the second set due to that unfortunate accident. It wasn’t fair that only the opponent’s information was kept secret beforehand—things like that.
“But we shouldn’t say that. Their rest time was short too. If they’d been full of energy, the match might’ve been even tougher. And it was us who chose to put a receiver in front of the attack line, knowing the risks. Blaming the other team is just wrong. Talking about ‘what ifs’ never ends. We lost. That’s the only fact.”
Everyone fell silent. We all understood. There was no point in saying things like that.
“Chiaki. I’m counting on you from here on. There might be some third-years who decide to stay, but starting now, Tamaki Commercial Girls’ Volleyball Club is yours. Don’t worry. You all can become strong. Stronger than we ever were.”
Looking back, complaining about the past—it doesn’t start anything. We have to face forward, or we can’t move ahead.
Chiaki is moody and a bit of a clown, but when she hits her stride, no one on the team can match her. She didn’t become a starter in her first summer for nothing. And Chiaki’s year is taller than ours. Even if they’re weaker now, their potential is more than enough.
Since we made it to the top eight in the Inter-High prefectural qualifiers, the next round of qualifiers for the Spring High tournament starts in November. June is already ending. That means we have about four months. There’s no time to sit around in regret.
I scolded Chiaki and the others as they continued to sulk and passed on the baton.
…And with that, my role in the volleyball club came to an end.
＝＝＝＝＝＝
“I’m home.”
By the time I got back, it was past 8 o’clock.
“Welcome back. How did it go?”
“Mmm. We lost.”
“I see… Good work out there. Dinner will be ready soon, so go get changed.”
“Okay.”
Huh? That’s unexpected.
Mom was the one who kept saying, “If you lose, it’s time for entrance exams and summer prep classes,” and yet—she didn’t say anything.
Oh well. Time to go change.
But when I reached my room, I didn’t even change. I just collapsed onto the bed. And then, lying face down, I let out a scream. If I’m face down, my voice won’t be heard.
(AaaaAAAAAAHHHHH—!)
It’s over already? But it’s only June!
This year’s team was the strongest of any team I’d ever been part of.
(AAAAAHHHHHH!!)
I had planned to play volleyball through the summer. I even convinced my parents.
And yet…
(AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!)
And just like that, I retired from volleyball.
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