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Ushijima held his volleyball out in front of himself. It was smaller than the volleyballs that professionals played with, ideal for a junior high student like him.

He saw them on television, and sometimes he watched with his father. College, high school, professional -- Ushijima spent a lot of time watching matches. He didn't have much interest in anything else. Ushijima practiced, especially with his team, and even by himself.

He dribbled the ball on the floor, traveling at a slow and even pace across his backyard. He rarely had the chance to visit his father anymore, but today he was ready and waiting. His father had gone inside to take a phone call, and Ushijima idled the time one of the only ways he knew how.

He threw the volleyball up in the air. He readied his arms for a receive and caught it, and he bounced it from his arms to receive it again, over and over. When his wrists got tired, he lobbed it against the wall and tried to spike it. He missed almost every time. The momentum the wall gave the ball failed to make a decent arc height, and Ushijima ended up spiking too low.

His father came back outside. "Sorry about that, Wakatoshi. I had to take a call from work."

Ushijima nodded and returned to what he was doing. The ball bounced off the wall and flew over his shoulder, and Sorai caught it as he walked up behind Ushijima.

Sorai lowered his hands and delivered it back to Ushijima. "You can't spike by yourself. You need a setter."

"I know." Ushijima turned the ball over in his hands, quiet and fulfilled in his own silence.

"What's your favorite thing about volleyball?"

"I like spiking and being strong."

"Would you ever want to be a setter?"

Ushijima shook his head. He raised his hands and tossed the ball in a demonstration. It sailed in a wide arc and crashed into a flowerpot, smashing it into pieces. Ushijima winced.

"Okay...so no." Sorai laughed, and Ushijima looked at him, his mouth lifting to semi-match Sorai's smile. He placed a hand on Ushijima's head to ruffle his hair.

Ushijima squinted and raised his shoulders. Sorai gave another ruffle and laugh, and his hand fell away.

"Do you remember what I said before about volleyball?"

Ushijima rubbed the side of his face as he thought. "I should join a strong team."

"If you go where the strongest gather, I know you'll grow. It's not just what you make of it, it's what your teammates make of it, and if you'll let them. I doubt that'll be a problem on your part, but..." Sorai scratched his head. He eyed Ushijima's left hand, and after a moment of deliberation, he picked up Ushijima's hand. "Being left-handed is special and rare. You'll be that much stronger, and it'll be hard for other teams to fight back. But it's hard to toss to left-handed spikers, and it takes a strong setter to know what to do."

Ushijima frowned. "I know..."

Sorai smiled, warm and small. "You've already come across this problem, haven't you?"

Ushijima nodded. "My spikes don't match tosses."

"That's alright. Everyone else is learning, too. Everyone will get better, and it'll be even more fun."

He released Ushijima's hand and crouched to Ushijima's height. "You're a great spiker even on your own. I can't wait to see what happens next for you."

Ushijima looked at the broken flowerpot, and Sorai stood and walked over to the pieces scattered over the floor. "I'll get this. This looks sharp."

"Okay." Ushijima went to chase after the volleyball.

Ushijima's team took a day off from practice to watch a high school volleyball match. Everyone sat in the higher end of the stands, but they could still see the players lining up for the game start.

Shiratorizawa and Aobajousai stood on the court. Ushijima knew everything about both teams, in a general sense; he knew they were strong, and he knew their histories. His dad told him all about them from a really long time ago, their coaches and the famous players, and Ushijima looked into them the best he could.

One of his teammates leaned in from the seat behind him and tapped his shoulder. "What's that one famous setter down there? Do you know?"

"There's three well known setters on the court. Which one?" Ushijima asked.

"The one with the worst haircut."

"That's Shirabu Kenjirou."

"Semi's cooler," someone else said.

"His serves are the best."

"I heard that the team's gonna use Shirabu more next year."

"Why? Isn't he kinda average?"

"He gives off a strong feeling. One of the team said something about security. Didn't you see that magazine the other day?"

Ushijima couldn't keep up. He stared ahead at the court.

There was a layered element to Shiratorizawa, underneath the sheerness of power in strategy. They focused on the strong. The best came to them, and in turn, strength empowered strength. Ushijima took faith in his father's words; the best could only get better with each other. The depth of this tapered off into inexplicable territory, but Ushijima understood it like a feeling: someone will always be there. This was the multi-fauceted strength Ushijima came to look for. Wordless security.

"The thing about Shirabu," someone said next to him, "is he can toss to anyone."

Ushijima arrived at the volleyball gym early. No one on the team could slack off, but to Ushijima especially, this held true, and he wasn't going to show even himself any weakness. He was the only one that came to Shiratorizawa on his own, without any sports recommendations.

Shirabu approached him before practice. "You're new?"

"I'm a wing spiker. My name is Ushijima Wakatoshi." Ushijima briefly bowed to a slight level, enough to remove eye contact.

"I don't know anything about the team list, I'm not captain, so I don't know what Washijou is going to do with anyone."

"Alright."

Shirabu paused. "You can go stretch or do what you want now. Practice won't start for another ten minutes."

Ushijima stepped back and folded his leg behind himself to stretch. He didn't notice Shirabu leave.

At the start of official team warmups, Washijou instructed them to do a lap outside around the field. Ushijima jogged at the head of the group, keeping his pace consistent and succinct. He ran as fast as usual, for him, and at the end of the lap, he slowed to an even stop and took a drink of water.

"God, you're fast," Semi said from next to Ushijima. "Are you...is your stamina really like this?"

"I run every day," Ushijima replied.

Shirabu braked and skidded at the end of his lap. He breathed heavily, sucking in large breaths and sighing them out. He walked to meet Semi and Ushijima.

"You need to slow down," Shirabu said when he regained his breath. "You're not going to last a day of Shiratorizawa practice like that."

"I can."

"You're already tired," Semi said to Shirabu with a laugh. "Just because you're not a first year anymore, that doesn't mean you can lecture other people."

"I just needed to catch my breath," Shirabu grumbled.

Semi faced away to address Ushijima. "You're Ushijima, right?"

"Yes."

"I haven't heard much about you, but you somehow got in, so welcome." Semi extended his hand, and Ushijima shook it.

"Come to think of it, I haven't heard much about you, either," Shirabu said. "That's strange for someone coming to Shiratorizawa. Usually every person stands out at least a little."

"I studied for the entrance exam." Ushijima clasped his hands together and let them rest at his waist.

"Why couldn't you get sports recommendations?" Shirabu asked.

"I'm left handed. Setters couldn't toss to me well. I didn't have a chance to stand out."

"Left handed? Hey, that sounds great for a spiker," Semi said, drawing Ushijima's eyes to him. "I guess you just had bad luck and never got a foot in the door."

"That's one way to put it."

Shirabu leaned to Semi. "Have you ever set to a left-handed spiker?" he asked in a whisper.

"Last year I did sometimes to a third year, and I did in junior high, too. Did you?"

Shirabu stood away. "Yeah."

Ushijima left them and assembled with the rest of the team inside. Receive drills claimed a half hour, but after that, everyone congregated to practice spiking and tossing.

Semi led Ushijima and a few others away. "Washijou thinks it'd be best if I try tossing to you, Ushijima, and then other setters can see if they're better after that."

"That's fine."

Ushijima came to the net first for a toss. Semi sent a ball to him, and in a space of time so small Ushijima couldn't hold his breath, it came to his hand and fell struck from his spike.

The ball hit the ground with a satisfying smack. It still didn't have the spin and connection Ushijima wanted, but it had much more success than the tosses from junior high.

"Not bad," Semi said. "For both of us. I haven't been able to toss to a left-handed spiker in a long time. You haven't had much practice with capable setters at all, though, so you're going to have to practice more to reach a level of a starting spiker."

"I understand." Ushijima jogged away to regroup to the back of the line.

At the end of practice, Ushijima found Shirabu leaning against a wall. He wasn't struggling for air, but he wore a frown, and his shoulders sagged from fatigue.

"Shirabu-san?" Ushijima asked.

Shirabu's arms uncrossed. "Ushijima. You're not tired?"

Ushijima shook his head. Shirabu hesitated to speak, his lips pulled together, almost biting them, but he paid attention to the open and readable honesty in Ushijima's face. Ushijima didn't have an expression to read, but his movements were decipherable, in the way he closed his eyes as he shook his head, and held his hands at his sides.

Shirabu let out a sigh. "So you're a steady kind of powerhouse... No wonder you didn't stand out before."

Ushijima nodded.

"Do you know what you're the best at?"

"Spiking."

Shirabu burst out laughing. His whole body seemed to converge to the effort, leaning away from the wall in forward-facing shoulders, and he held his arm near his face. Ushijima could still see him completely, and he watched Shirabu's mouth. His laugh managed to be as nondescript as his voice, inconspicuous and at the edge of noticeability, but Ushijima still heard an in-between quality to it, like it was waiting to be read. Ushijima wanted to keep listening for it.

"That's not what I meant," Shirabu said as he winded down. "What kinds of spikes? What about receives? And can you do some blocks better than other types?"

"I can spike...any kind of toss, I think."

"Any kind of toss," Shirabu echoed.

Ushijima thought it could be sarcasm, from what he knew of people, but tone aside, Shirabu stared thoughtfully at the ground.

Ushijima continued to Shirabu's willingness to listen. "I prefer high spikes near the top of the net. I receive well. I can't read block very well."

"Someone else on the team can do more than read block, he can guess block. He can teach you something, I guess." Shirabu looked up, and then shrugged. "I'm not a starter either, I'm a backup setter, so there's not much I can do. You should probably talk to our starting setter. And Semi, too."

"Alright. Thanks, Shirabu." Ushijima nodded and walked away.

Shirabu crossed his arms again.

Shirabu caught Ushijima early at the volleyball gym, practicing with another setter. Neither of them spoke much, other than occasional calls for the ball, or exchanges of noise.

At one point, Ushijima turned, and he saw Shirabu leaning in the doorway. Shirabu entered and met them on the court. "You're both practicing early? You're going to wear yourselves out."

The first year setter nodded and apologized, and then excused himself for a drink of water.

"I didn't notice you behind me. How long did you watch?" Ushijima asked.

"Five minutes, maybe. I'm surprised you weren't startled."

Ushijima stooped to pick up a volleyball. He stood. "I don't notice outside things when I'm playing volleyball."

"You focus...really hard then..."

"Doesn't setting take its own concentration?"

"Yeah, it does." Shirabu eyed the ball in Ushijima's hands. He reached for it, and Ushijima handed it over. "I'll toss to you for a little while."

"Thank you." Ushijima returned to a spiking position.

The tosses fit smoothly into his rhythm. Ushijima couldn't gauge if it was worse or better than Semi's tosses, but either way, it felt right. He could sense the experience and security he's only heard of before, and he sensed it from both of them. The third year starter setter didn't toss to him that much, only once, so Ushijima couldn't tell anything from him.

Shirabu shifted his weight on his feet, leaning to one side as he faced Ushijima. "I've noticed you really don't waste any movements. You know what to do well."

"How so?"

"Er..." Shirabu tried to move his arms and imitate walking, but he gave up and shrugged. "I don't know... Your legs don't hit the ground too hard, or don't bounce too much, and you hardly fumble. You keep everything in a precise place."

Ushijima tilted his head. "Oh? I didn't know. I just do what I think is best."

"You just do...what you think is best..." Shirabu let out a snort. "You have a real handle on volleyball. Have you always been natural at it?"

"I've been playing since elementary school." Ushijima motioned at the ball. "Can we try again?"

"Oh, right." Shirabu tossed to him a few more times.

Tendou clapped his hands after one. He cheered and whistled. "Y'know, I didn't think I'd ever see someone as single-brained as Kenjirou about volleyball, but you top even him, Wakatoshi."

"It's 'single-celled'," Shirabu said.

"But that has nothing to do with brains."

"Pick a better phrase, then."

Tendou erupted into a laugh. "You're still pretty pig-headed!"

Shirabu's hands tightened on the ball for a moment. He groaned.

Tendou spun to Ushijima and bounced to his side. "Want to hear something good, Wakatoshi?"

"What is it?"

Tendou slid behind Ushijima and placed his a hand on Ushijima's shoulder, his other hand gesturing toward Shirabu. "You think he's great, right? Right?"

"I do."

Shirabu fidgeted with the ball and grimaced. "Tendou..."

"Someone told me what he was like when he first started volleyball."

"Tendou..."

"He fell into the net so many times, they called him fish! He's a setter and doesn't even need to jump, but he always used to get in the net."

Shirabu threw the ball at the ground and started running. Tendou sprinted away.

"He can't help eating fish, too!"

"Stop it!"

"Eats it all the time!" Tendou managed to laugh as he ran, his head lowering to howl. Shirabu couldn't catch him.

"Shut up!"

"Look at this, Wakatoshiiii! He's chasing me! It's a fish eat fish kind of place!" Tendou paused in front of Ushijima and snapped his hands in claws in front of Ushijima's face. "Kenjirou's a fish through and through!"

"Fish don't have claws, lobsters do," Shirabu snapped at him as he neared Tendou.

Tendou dashed again. "A fish would knowwww!"

Shirabu kicked at a volleyball on the floor, and it missed Tendou and hit the wall. Tendou couldn't stop laughing.

Ushijima watched them race all over the court, his eyes following them closely. He held his hands together. He intended to let this pass without thinking and passing judgment on anything, but the embarrassing and useless history changed his mind. He became warm. Ushijima could imagine it, except he couldn't imagine Shirabu any younger, so all he could picture was a high school Shirabu flailing in a net.

Shirabu placed his hand on the wall to rest, his head down to breathe. Tendou was breathing hard, too, but he still dragged himself to Ushijima.

"Are you trying to picture it?" he asked Ushijima, his head cocked. "A fish with that haircut. Poor Kenjirou."

"Quit it," Shirabu said, quieter.

"He's worn himself out. Too bad. Practice is gonna start."

"I don't think it's the way you said," Ushijima interrupted.

"Hm? What?" Tendou stood straight again.

"I think Shirabu-san and I are equal, when it comes to talking about volleyball. It's easy talking to Shirabu, and I like it, which means it's because of volleyball."

"That's the way you feel? I can't say anything about that, but if it's fun and like you said, then maybe it's true." Tendou turned and headed to the sideline for his water bottle.

Ushijima felt compelled to follow. He stared at the ground, his eyes on Tendou's shoes, but his mind somewhere else. Conversation really was natural between him and Shirabu. He had his own experience with junior high and elementary teams, and with his father, but he could ask Shirabu anything, and Shirabu knew what to say. Shirabu started conversations, too, so much that Ushijima didn't even notice and wasn't struck by the rarity of the ease. Shirabu asked him what he wanted for tosses, and everything came out easily, enough that it remained subtle and out of sight until it hit him on the head all at once.

Ushijima stopped walking, and Tendou raised an eyebrow after he lowered his bottle. "What's up, Wakatoshi?"

"Nothing," Ushijima said quietly. His voice missed the note of usual sincerity, leaving only the blunt silence to speak for him.

"Ouch, hot and cold." Tendou didn't remark on it further, and handed Ushijima his sports bottle.

By the time practice ended, both Tendou and Shirabu were exhausted. Tendou lied flat on his stomach on the court, and Shirabu sat back on his hands, his head to the ceiling.

"That was completely your fault."

"Hn. Was it? I can't remember." Tendou muffled the end of his words into the floor as he lowered his head back.

Ushijima stopped to stand above them both. "Are you two alright?"

"We're fine," Tendou said with a lazy wave.

"Swell," Shirabu mumbled.

Ushijima deliberated on his feet. He thought about helping them up, but the thought went dormant in his fiddled hands.

Tendou raised his arm back up. "Wakatoshi, help me."

Ushijima stepped forward to lift him right away. He turned to Shirabu. "Do you want help, too?"

Shirabu wordlessly accepted his hand. Ushijima tugged, and Shirabu fumbled from the sudden strength. Shirabu's face fell in surprise, and Ushijima knew -- he was staring right at him as he helped Shirabu.

"Thanks," Shirabu said. He twisted his wrist. "You're strong."

"Strong," Tendou added in marvel. "With the right setter, you should be invincible." He raised his arms. "You were born to be an ace! Take over next year."

"I can't take over."

"Sure you can. Just score lots of points this year. Or next year."

"You can't take it like that, but I think. Tendou has a point, but he didn't really say it." Shirabu scratched the back of his head. "You've probably heard about how Shiratorizawa focuses all on the strong spikers, and wins games by brute force."

"Something like that," Ushijima said.

"It's kind of true. Strength really is that important for us to score," Shirabu said. "I think... I think you have what it takes to be our ace. I feel it, you're really strong."

"Ha! I was just saying words, but you went out and said it so earnestly." Tendou chortled. "Haha!"

Shirabu gritted his teeth, a frustrated, furious red in his face. "I'm just agreeing with you!"

"An ace, our ace. You can never stop doing embarrassing things." Tendou tried to dance around Shirabu, but Shirabu tackled him.

Tendou froze with his arms in the air. Shirabu clung to him, but he didn't knock Tendou to the ground. He held on to his arms and shoulders, his legs and feet kicking air. Tendou laughed hard.

"You're so short, you can't take me down!"

"I'll make you regret...!"

Tendou laughed harder. Shirabu yanked on his hair, and Tendou choked and made a yelp.

Ushijima stood nearby, again, unable to react with Tendou in the mix. All he could do was allow a ghost of a trickling flush creep up his neck while listening and watching, parsing Shirabu's words.

Shirabu slipped off Tendou and stepped back.

"That's all you can do? I'm not so scared of you anymore, Kenjirou."

"You were scared?"

"Of a small hostile animal, yes, I was scared," Tendou said.

"A small hostile animal..." Ushijima repeated.

Tendou turned to Ushijima cheerfully. "Yes! Isn't he the picture of it? Especially small. He's still shorter than some of the first years."

"I'm too tired to deal with this anymore." Shirabu trudged away.

Semi tossed to Ushijima at the next practice. The coaches decided to have an intramural match at the end, and Ushijima was allowed to replace a spiker.

"I've heard good things about you, so let's see how you do," Washijou said to Ushijima as an induction onto the practice court.

Ushijima bowed and took his place among Semi and a few other second years. The upperclass setter orchestrated the other side of the court, and Shirabu remained on the sideline, watching.

The game started with a serve from the other side. Reon received on Ushijima's side, and he sent it to Semi. The match proceeded with Semi tossing to several other spikers.

Ushijima didn't vocalize anything, but he was itching for a set. He glanced around the court and tried to channel his energy into receives. He caught Semi's eyes, and despite his best efforts, Semi noticed his wish.

He sent a ball to Ushijima, and Tendou blocked it and sent it straight down. He took recoil and skidded a little back, but he remained unscathed.

"Easy! Eita-kun, did you really think I wouldn't notice you glance at Wakatoshi? You're too easy to read," Tendou called out.

Semi held the top of his forehead. "Ugh."

Tendou waggled a finger. "Don't do it again!"

Semi lowered his head and considered the state of the match. He murmured to Soekawa, out of Ushijima's earshot.

They called a timeout, and Semi's side of the team gathered in a group.

"I saw something off with Tendou that time," Semi said, directing his words to Ushijima.

"How?"

"He could barely handle the power. He knew exactly what I was going to do, but knowing where it's going to go does nothing if he can't take the spike.

"Ushijima, do you think...do you think your spikes can tear through blocks?" Semi asked.

"I've done it before."

"It sounded like it strained Tendou to block it," Soekawa said. "He's amazing, but he's not perfect. He can't kill spikes every time."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. I think I'll try to break Tendou's block when he's matched to Ushijima."

"I don't know...this sounds a little brutal, even for Shiratorizawa," Reon said.

"I think it's worth a shot. This is what practice matches are for," Soekawa advised.

Reon shrugged. "I suppose if it works, if it works..."

Washijou called the end of the timeout, and everyone reconvened on the court again. The game continued.

Semi refrained from sending any spikers any eye contact, but Ushijima knew this time that he was going to toss to him. He ran for a spike approach and jumped.

He slammed his hand down as hard as he could. Tendou withstood the spike again, but the ball managed to force him far back enough to slip through and land on his side of the net.

Tendou recovered, lifted his hands, and stared at them. "You did it anyway...?"

"Why're you surprised if you guessed what I was going to do?" Semi asked.

"I knew, but I didn't think you'd actually just do it again." Tendou screeched. "You're supposed to do the opposite up against my guess block."

Semi didn't respond, but Ushijima noticed a smugness in his mouth, and held in his light movements back to his position on the court.

They repeated it for a large portion of the match, with the same success. In the end, Tendou's side lost, and it was an undeniable result of Ushijima's spikes.

"Wow." Semi bent to hang tiredly over his feet, but he stood back straight and laughed. "You're really something, Ushijima. If I didn't already know you, I'd be falling over at how strong you are."

"Thank you. That means a lot from an upperclassman." Ushijima bowed.

Semi's smile lost some of itself, and it turned awkward. "You don't have to be so formal and bow all the time. I've seen you do it a lot."

"Ah, okay."

Tendou ran up behind Ushijima and clapped him on the back. Ushijima choked and stumbled, and he held his chest to clear his throat.

"Great job, Wakatoshi! You've blown me away!"

"Don't scare him like that." Semi flicked Tendou's hand.

"Fine, fine." Tendou patted Ushijima's shoulder. "You're really shaping up to be a Shiratorizawa spiker." He stood straighter, and he extended his fist to Ushijima, tipping it like a microphone. "Ushijima Wakatoshi, you are now the strongest spiker in the world. Where will you go now?" he asked, taking on a false air of seriousness.

Ushijima looked down at his hand. "I'm having dinner and going to bed."

"I don't mean right now right now." Tendou withdrew. "Still not ready for the world. Or is the world not ready for him?"

Shirabu stopped at Tendou's side. "Are you done?"

"Nnnnn... Mmmm. Yes. I'm done." Tendou clapped his hands together. "I want dinner, too. I'm hungry."

Ushijima, Shirabu, and Semi continued to the locker room ahead of Tendou as he elaborated to Yamagata on his food plans for the night.

Shirabu finished changing first, and he made for the dorms, leaving Semi and Ushijima behind.

Semi stopped tying his shoes and looked at Ushijima. "Does Shirabu ever sound mean to you."

"No. Why?"

Semi glanced at a locker wall and rumbled in thought. "Shirabu comes off that way sometimes. He's a forward know-it-all, I'd know. He's not that bad, but I thought you should know that he can be misunderstood easily. He's actually...well-meaning."

"I know."

"He can be pushy when he sets, too. I think so."

Ushijima drew his thoughts to the corner of the bench in the middle of the locker room. "I don't."

"That's alright. As long as he doesn't bother you."

"I've never had that feeling from Shirabu, though."

Semi raised an eyebrow. "At all?"

"At all."

Semi resumed tying his shoes. "Well, good."

Ushijima still stared at the bench, reconsidering. He wasn't changing his mind about anything, but he was going through the facts, again, under Semi's words.

Shirabu attended to him in several ways, slipping in casual questions about his thoughts and opinions. That was the feeling Ushijima had. He couldn't reexamine it through Semi's eyes, but he didn't find Shirabu any ruder than himself.

Shirabu practiced with Ushijima before team practice, again. Ushijima didn't ask him to do it, and he didn't go back to asking other first years to set to him, but Shirabu wordlessly led him into a routine of private practice.

Ushijima chased after the ball after one set. He held it in his hands and paused. "Why are you offering yourself to do so much practice with me?"

"You need the practice." Shirabu dragged his foot on the floor, still maintaining slight eye contact. "Honestly, I can't stand seeing you fail so miserably with...the first years," he finished quietly.

Ushijima leaned in to listen as he handed the ball to Shirabu. "Fail?"

"Yes. You spike well with me and Semi, but other setters still can't toss to you very well." Shirabu wrinkled his nose. "I can't imagine how much trouble you had in junior high."

"I survived."

Shirabu snorted. "Good." His slight smile slipped, and he tilted his head, scratching it with a reluctant sigh. "Anyway... I've noticed that your serves are pretty unstable. You should work on that."

"I'm unstable?" Ushijima raised his arm and looked at it.

Shirabu came closer and gave him the ball back. "You should probably ask Semi for help with this, he's a great server, but I can help you out a bit. Here." He moved in and rearranged Ushijima's arms. "Your arm's kind of...there. I wouldn't say you hit it too hard, that's how you make a powerful serve, but you need more control."

Ushijima grew increasingly stiff under Shirabu's manipulation. Shirabu paused.

"You need to loosen up. There's nothing going on right now." He placed his hands on Ushijima's shoulders to relax him.

All Ushijima registered was a close warm pair of hands, and he tensed. It felt like a soft fit to his shoulders, and strong and steady, too. He misplaced it as a different kind of steadiness, the kind of well-intended reassurance that told him someone else was in control. His shoulders moved under his hands in a twitch, and outfitting them completely to the touch of memory left him unable to speak in a silent blush.

Shirabu let go. "Uh, maybe Semi's the best bet after all."

He excused Ushijima for a drink, and Ushijima covered his mouth and ducked away to leave.

They had just enough time to rest before practice began. Warmups and drills passed as usual, and another practice match arrived at the end, this time with another school.

Ushijima stood beside Shirabu, Semi, and Tendou, and watched. Most of the match was held between both schools' third and second years.

Tendou groaned. "I want to play."

"Wait a little," Shirabu said.

Tendou turned to him and made lobster claw hands again. Shirabu swatted him away.

Ushijima's eyes drifted to Shirabu. He didn't seem to carry any wariness or suspicion about what happened earlier, and Ushijima relaxed.

Their secondary coach approached them. "Semi, Ushijima, we're switching you in next," Saitou said.

"Ooh, a summons," Tendou said.

"Understood," Semi told him. "Let's go, Ushijima."

Shirabu and Tendou shifted closer to fill the space they left behind.

Ushijima stilled on the sideline next to the coaches. Shiratorizawa's setter was moving slower from exhaustion, and Ushijima could see why they decided to switch him in.

Semi went ahead to replace someone, and at the next switch, Ushijima came in. He clapped the retreating player's hand as he stepped onto the court.

Semi flashed him a grin. "Ready for your first match?"

"It's a practice match."

"Don't kill the mood like Shirabu." Semi still kept his grin as he turned away to focus on the game's continuation.

His plan from last time went off without a hitch. Ushijima swept through every block in the same way, knocking them back a little, or forcing their arms backward enough to fall through.

"Ha. We've got them, Ushijima," Semi said.

"We'll win?"

"Of course we're going to win. We're way ahead." Semi looked Ushijima up and down. "Let me know if you get tired, though."

"I will."

Semi's spirits carried for a long high. The other team couldn't fight a head-on problem that was so powerful and stunning. Even with Shiratorizawa's reputation, it was hard to take.

Ushijima landed after one spike. His force couldn't be fought to change momentum, and he followed through to a slowed landing.

When he glanced up, he saw the ball sail back over the net, still in the air. He wasn't blocked, but the one-touch still saved the other team from losing the point.

The ball missed Yamagata's receive, and it hit the floor. Semi patted Ushijima on the shoulder.

"That was just one time," Semi reassured him.

"I'm not daunted."

"If that's what you say." Semi slid out of the quick talk to serve.

Slowly, the game's momentum shifted toward the other side. Shiratorizawa already had a lot of points, but here and there, the blockers caught on to Ushijima and stood their ground. The one-touches turned into successful blocks, and Semi's plan lost substance.

The time Semi decided to switch and toss to someone else, the entire team on the other side was thrown off, and they won back a solid point that sent the opponents fumbling for the ball. Semi sighed in relief.

"Finally..."

"What should we do now?" Ushijima asked.

Semi hummed. "I think there's nothing else we can do. I'm sorry, Ushijima, but I have to use you less, now."

Semi glanced at him. Ushijima didn't have any words to say. He didn't frown or otherwise express disappointment, but the lack of reaction spoke for itself.

Shiratorizawa still won. They had already racked up enough points, but the blunder closed some of the point gap between them.

Washijou crossed his arms to address the team. He didn't say anything for a moment. "You're lucky this was a practice match, Eita," he said.

Semi stood straight and met his eyes. "I understand."

Washijou sighed. "I don't know what we're going to do with you now," Washijou said to Ushijima. "You can't be used too often unless you manage to pick up more power."

"I'll become stronger. I'm only a second year," Ushijima answered.

"You can't take all the blame for not being strong enough. Eita shouldn't have tossed to you so much."

Semi twitched.

Washijou moved on to other details to discuss, and then dismissed them. Semi and Ushijima trudged to the locker rooms with everyone else.

"I'm really, really sorry about that," Semi said.

"It was only a practice match."

"I can tell you hated what happened, though. You don't like being blocked, do you?"

"No, I don't. I do hate it..."

"No one likes being blocked," Tendou said as he joined them, stepping in between them. "Even the best get blocked. Maybe you also have to learn to handle it when it comes."

Ushijima frowned, and Semi and Tendou laughed.

"That's how you know Wakatoshi really doesn't like something," Tendou said.

They turned the corner into the locker room, and they found Shirabu leaning against a locker. He looked up. "Ushijima, are you--"

His feet slipped, and he fell backward, cutting himself off with a pained yelp. Tendou and Semi exploded into laughter.

Shirabu brushed his hair out of his face and glared up at them. "It was an accident!"

"You fell on your butt!" Tendou yelled. Semi tried to cover his mouth, but his entire body was shaking from laughter.

Ushijima extended a hand. "Here."

Shirabu jumped up with his assist, following on the gust of strength instead of fumbling. "Thanks," he said quietly.

Tendou posed to lean against the lockers. "I'm Kenjirou-kun, and I think I'm the coolest! So cool!"

"Semi, make him shut up."

Semi ignored him. "You got him exactly!"

Tendou switched poses, his hand flourished in the air to hold an imaginary apple. "I have to be ready for anything."

Semi moved to stand back-to-back with Tendou, and he raised his arm in an excessive flare. "I'm ready."

Shirabu pushed at Ushijima's back. "Please. Let's go."

"But we haven't changed yet," Ushijima said as he turned back to watch them. He still let himself be escorted away, making a show of leaning backward into Shirabu's hands, as if Shirabu was sustaining his weight.

They made it outside, and Shirabu leapt away. "They do this out of nowhere sometimes," Shirabu said quickly. "Don't. Don't give them attention, and they'll stop."

Ushijima's eyes flickered over Shirabu's face. Shirabu didn't stammer, but he was red again, flustered and frustrated. Ushijima couldn't read much into it except for anger and irritation. Something still wedged suggestive of a deeper meaning in there, somehow, and it made Ushijima fall quiet.

Shirabu crossed his arms tightly. "They'll come out."

Ushijima let a beat of silence pass. "You do lean against walls a lot," he pointed out.

Shirabu jerked away, seething redder. He lost the ability to see Ushijima from the angle, but Ushijima was fighting an uplifted turn of his mouth.

Instead of tossing one more time, Shirabu held the ball closer to his chest. Ushijima stumbled to recover and keep himself from jumping.

He faced Shirabu. "What's wrong?"

Shirabu drew his finger over the seams in the volleyball. "You've had a lot of time now on the team. Whose tosses do you like the best?"

"Ah, yours."

"Why?"

"I don't know... Yours and Semi's are both skillful."

"That doesn't tell me anything." Shirabu bounced the ball.

"Technically you're both skillful," Ushijima added. "But Semi doesn't know when to use his skill."

Shirabu gave an awkward smile. "That's kind of harsh."

"It is?"

"Well..." Shirabu caught the ball and stopped it. "If he was here, it would be, but if it's true, then I'd have to agree, too."

"'If it's true'? You don't know?"

"How can I? I'm a setter, not a spiker. I haven't spiked his tosses, and I'm never going to, so I'll never know."

Ushijima didn't respond, and Shirabu moved on to toss again. They practiced, back and forth, for several minutes, plowing through the minutes until team practice would start. At this point, Ushijima and Shirabu had grown so accustomed to each other that there weren't any delays or blips in the transfer from setting to spiking.

Ushijima stared into the net and let the ball dribble away after a spike. "I take you for granted."

"What?" Shirabu didn't repeat the words, but a questioning noise recurred from him several times, encouraging Ushijima to speak.

"I've gotten so comfortable with your tosses that I forgot how difficult it is to toss to me."

"It's not that hard. I've done it before." Shirabu waved it off.

Ushijima ran to collect the ball. He deposited it in Shirabu's hands.

"Thanks." Shirabu shifted it to his hip. "You know...I mean, I know... You... You worked really hard to get into Shiratorizawa, didn't you?"

"I studied every day."

"Of course you did." Shirabu slowly reclaimed his place in front of the net. "But that must've been hard on you. I couldn't believe it when you told us you got in on your own, it's that difficult to do. And it's really obvious now that you can handle stuff like it, and work hard all the time."

Ushijima averted his eyes.

Shirabu shuffled on his feet, loud enough for Ushijima to hear. "Are you suddenly shy?" Shirabu asked.

"I don't know."

Shirabu stepped back and laughed, but it rung awkward.

He let out a breath. "Let's take a break. Go get something to drink," Shirabu said.

Ushijima obeyed. He hurried to grab his bottle and return, and when he came back, Shirabu was sitting on the floor along the wall. Ushijima joined him. He sat down and leaned forward, his head turned to Shirabu.

Shirabu balanced back on his hands. "Did you have a reason you picked Shiratorizawa?" he asked.

Ushijima faced ahead. "I wanted to go where the strongest are."

"That's why I chose Shiratorizawa, too."

"My father told me to find the strongest players. They'd be able to toss to a left-handed spiker," Ushijima continued, drawing Shirabu's attention. "And it couldn't be just that, either. I needed someone to match me."

"That makes sense." Shirabu's feet swayed to the side. "I really just wanted to be strong, and I liked strong people. It's selfish when I look back on it."

"It's selfish for me to just want a setter, too."

"I didn't mean to make you think you're selfish..." Shirabu scratched his arm and took the chance to angle away. "To be honest, I think you're one of the best spikers I've ever met."

Ushijima felt every word gusted out of his body.

"So I don't think it's a big deal, asking for something like that when it's your only way to really play." Shirabu snorted. "It's weird to think about how Shiratorizawa is seen as a powerhouse that just spams attacks and sends them all to the best spikers, but we'd actually fall apart if that's how we played. You need strength to enable more. You saw how Semi handled the practice match. He focused on you too much, and everyone got used to you." Shirabu shrugged. "No matter what anyone thinks or says, though, Shiratorizawa's always going to be seen as a brutish school on the court. In the end, we just focus on power, after all." Shirabu glanced over. "Ushijima? What is it? You haven't said anything in a while."

Ushijima pinched the bottom of his shirt between his fingers, and Shirabu's eyes trailed to them.

"I think you're the best setter, too," Ushijima said. His voice was quiet.

"I don't know if I've said this before, but I always like listening to your opinions," Shirabu joked.

Ushijima regarded him with an open stare. "You do?"

"Yeah. If you don't like something, say it, and I'm there." Shirabu shifted and held his elbow. "I hope I don't turn into a bad influence, now that I think about what I just said."

"If anything, Tendou is a bad influence."

"He definitely is."

Ushijima let go of his shirt. "You know Shiratorizawa very well. I saw you in a match against Aobajousai, once, when I was in junior high. I really thought you were strong even then."

"So you knew Shiratorizawa well, too."

"I was looking for an ideal setter, and I heard about you. You have a lot of good qualities. You're adaptable and in control. You're popular and well-known for a reason."

Shirabu pressed his hand to the side of his face. "What? Ushijima, you're..."

"I already wanted to come here, but I came to Shiratorizawa so you could set to me."

Shirabu coughed. "I... That's what it started to sound like, but -- Did you really...?"

Ushijima felt satisfaction from seeing him red-faced, undeniably a blush and not an angry flush or a red from laughter.

Shirabu shook his head and dragged his hands away. "I've never been someone's reason for something like that before... Damnit," he ended in a mumble.

He let out a breath. "You give me a feeling of strength, too, so that feeling's mutual," Shirabu said. "You're unstable in some ways, and so am I, so I think... I think we can be each other's invincibility."

"Invincible...like what Tendou said?"

"I don't think he had any idea what he was saying, but yes. Invincible." Shirabu shifted. "Since we're both so selfish, can you promise..." Shirabu faded off. "Never mind."

"What is it? I want to hear."

"Can you promise...you'll always spike my tosses? I actually hate promises, people always break them, but I trust you, and it's reassuring." Shirabu bumped his hands together.

Ushijima's pause to react inflated loud to Shirabu, but truthfully, it came right after, without any hesitation:

"Yes."