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Haikyu!! - The Lost Spring of Memory Episode 1: Backflow of Memory — Flashback of Defeat

Haikyu!! - The Lost Spring of Memory Episode 1: Backflow of Memory — Flashback of Defeat
The gym echoed with the sound of a bouncing ball. The rainy-season humidity clung to the floor. The air was heavy. Mid-June. After school, at Karasuno High's gymnasium. Azumane Asahi looked up at the toss rising from beyond the net. His long black hair was tied back in a loose, careless bundle. His bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat. Gentle brown eyes tracked the ball. His lanky, 180-centimeter frame was wrapped in supple muscle. Above his left eyebrow sat a small, old scar from childhood. Tall as he was, he had a habit of hunching his shoulders, always trying to make himself look smaller. "Asahi-san!" Orange hair bounced at the edge of his vision. Hinata Shouyou. Fiery spiky hair, and big amber eyes full of curiosity. Barely 162 centimeters tall, but his jump was higher than anyone's on the team. "Here it comes!" Asahi nodded without a word. Approach. Takeoff. His body lifted off the floor. That was when it happened. — *Tweet.* A sharp whistle rang out inside his head. The scenery switched. Sendai City Gymnasium. A packed crowd. The Spring High preliminaries, finals. Across the court, white and teal uniforms. Aoba Johsai High. A man stepped up to serve. Oikawa Tooru. His right arm flexed, and the ball was released. It dropped at Asahi's feet with terrifying speed. He couldn't move. Next came Shiratorizawa Academy. Ushijima Wakatoshi's thick, towering block. His own spike, repelled by a wall of iron. And then. Himself, sitting outside the court, knees hugged to his chest, crying. Wearing Karasuno's black-and-orange uniform. A pathetic sight. — *That's me.* A pain like something piercing through his skull. Asahi crumpled to the floor. He dropped to his knees, clutching his head with both hands. "Asahi-san!?" Hinata's voice sounded far away. "What's wrong!?" Kageyama Tobio came running from the other side of the net. Straight black hair. Sharp navy-blue eyes. Same height as Asahi — 180 centimeters. A cool face, but right now clearly shaken. "Azumane-senpai, are you all right?" Asahi slowly raised his head. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. "...Yeah. I'm fine." His voice wouldn't come out right. His throat stuck. "Just a little dizzy, that's all." Asahi forced a smile. Just pulling up the corners of his mouth made his heart pound. "Are you sure? You're really pale." Hinata peered into his face, worried. Those big eyes stared straight at him. "Yeah. Sorry for worrying you." Asahi stood up. His knees trembled faintly. "Let's keep going." Kageyama opened his mouth as if to say something. But Asahi turned his back. The ace couldn't afford to fall. The ace couldn't afford to show weakness. The team's emotional pillar. The ace of Karasuno High's volleyball club. Azumane Asahi chose to carry that weight alone. He glanced at the clock on the gym wall. Five in the afternoon. Coach Ukai Keishin blew his whistle. "Break time. Get some water." The players shuffled over to the wall. Asahi sat alone in a corner of the gym. He wiped his face with a towel. His hands were shaking. What was that? The Spring High preliminaries. The finals. Oikawa of Aoba Johsai. Ushijima of Shiratorizawa. It wasn't even summer yet. It was June. The Inter-High preliminaries hadn't even started. And yet, he knew. That scene. That defeat. Asahi stared at his own hands. Big, knobby hands — a volleyball player's hands. With these hands, he'd spiked. With these hands, he'd lost. — *No. I haven't lost yet.* His head throbbed again. Something pulsed deep in his temples. "Azumane." A low voice. He looked up. Sawamura Daichi stood there. Short, neatly trimmed black hair. Strong-willed black eyes. A solid 176-centimeter build. Karasuno's volleyball captain. "You okay? I heard you collapsed earlier." Sawamura's eyes studied Asahi's face. "I'm fine. Just a little tired." "I see." Sawamura said nothing more. He just gave Asahi's shoulder a light pat and walked away. Asahi watched his back and thought: — *Daichi-san noticed.* That he was hiding something. But the captain wouldn't force it out of him. That was how Karasuno's captain did things. Asahi stood and walked outside. Outside, the sky was heavy and gray. The rainy-season front had parked itself over Sendai. Karasuno High sat on the outskirts of the city. Fifteen minutes on foot from the nearest station. Surrounded by houses and a few small fields. The school building was old. The gym was even wooden. But this gym had history. It had once been a regular at nationals. A powerhouse known as the "Crows of Karasuno." Now, not a trace of that glory remained. Twelve members. A mid-tier team, even within the prefecture. But this year was different. Hinata Shouyou and Kageyama Tobio. Two first-years had joined the club. Kageyama was a genius setter from Kitagawa Daiichi Middle School. Hinata was a total beginner — his middle school hadn't even had a volleyball team. But together, the two of them produced a chemical reaction no one could have predicted. Their advisor, Takeda Ittetsu, had said it in the staff room: "This year's Karasuno is going to be interesting." A small Japanese-literature teacher with glasses. A complete amateur at volleyball, but with more passion than anyone. "With Hinata-kun and Kageyama-kun joining, our attack has so much more range. And Azumane-kun's spikes will shine even more." Asahi remembered those words as he looked up at the sky. — *Right. This year, we're going to nationals.* But. That memory wouldn't leave his head. They lost in the Spring High preliminaries finals. *I* lost. Asahi clenched his fist. His nails dug into his palm. Meanwhile. That morning, Hinata Shouyou had felt something strange on the bus to school. The Sendai streets streamed past the window. The moment the bus turned a corner— The scenery flickered. Just for an instant, it became something else. Sendai City Gymnasium. A roaring crowd. Outside the court, a broad back, knees hugged to chest, crying. A black-and-orange uniform. Long black hair. — *Asahi-san?* Hinata gasped, eyes snapping wide. The bus rolled on as usual. The passengers, the same as always. Kageyama, sitting beside him, gave him a suspicious look. "What's with you?" "Ah, no... it's nothing." Hinata felt his heart pounding. What was that just now? A dream? But it had felt so real. Asahi-san had been crying. He'd never seen Asahi-san like that. Hinata pressed a small hand to his chest. Meanwhile, Kageyama Tobio had been struck by the same odd sensation that morning, in class. During first period. He'd been staring out the window. Suddenly, a roar of cheers echoed deep in his skull. — *The Spring High preliminaries. The finals.* On the court, he was setting. The opponent: Aoba Johsai. Oikawa-san's serve. The receive broke down. And then Asahi-san, outside the court... Kageyama furrowed his brow. His head throbbed. "Kageyama, what's wrong?" The student next to him spoke up. "...Nothing." Kageyama faced forward. What was that just now? A memory? But they hadn't played that match yet. Kageyama read the words in his notebook over and over. After school. Practice ended, and Asahi was changing in the club room. Sunset light poured through the window. Asahi looked at his hands once more. This wasn't a dream. That pain. That memory. All of it was real. But why? Why did he know things that hadn't happened yet? Asahi retied his long black hair and let out a deep breath. He couldn't talk to anyone about this. Not Daichi-san. Not Hinata. Not Kageyama. If he told them something like this— They'd think he'd lost his mind. And besides. — *I don't want to drag my teammates into this.* Deep in his chest, Asahi felt something dark and swirling. The memory of that defeat. That frustration. That helplessness. He'd carry it all alone. As the ace. That was his responsibility. Asahi folded his uniform and tucked it into his bag. When he stepped out of the club room, Hinata and Kageyama were waiting in the hallway. "Asahi-san." Hinata looked up at him with a serious face. "Um, were you really okay today?" Kageyama stood with his arms crossed, watching. "You don't look well." Asahi looked at them both in turn. Hinata's worried amber eyes. Kageyama's sharp but earnest navy ones. Both of them genuinely worried about him. That made him happy. But even more than that— It scared him. If he told these two about that memory— They might suffer the same way. No. Maybe something even worse would happen. Asahi smiled. "I'm fine. You two worry too much." He gave Hinata's orange head a light pat. "Come on, go home. Practice again tomorrow." Hinata still looked like he wanted to say something. But Kageyama grabbed his shoulder. "...Understood. Excuse us." Kageyama pulled Hinata away. Hinata turned back and gave a small wave. Asahi waved back. The two of them disappeared through the school gate into the dusk. Asahi stood there for a while. He'd lied. He'd lied again. But this was fine. This was for the best. Asahi headed for the bike racks. That night. Kageyama Tobio picked up his smartphone at his desk at home. A notification was displayed on the screen. Unknown sender. Not a messaging app. Not email. Just text, floating on the screen. 【Those who hold the memories will be erased.】 Kageyama's eyes went wide. His heart lurched. "...What the hell is this?" He scrolled the screen. But there was no sender, no date, nothing. Just that one line, black text on a white background. 【Those who hold the memories will be erased.】 Kageyama set the phone down on his desk. His fingertips trembled faintly. Erased. What? By whom? Kageyama remembered the strange fragment of memory he'd felt in class that morning. The Spring High preliminaries. The finals. Asahi-san, crying. — *That wasn't a dream.* Kageyama clenched his fist. Around the same time. Asahi sat on his bed in his room, looking at his phone. The screen was pitch black. But something was wrong. A call history was displayed. But there was no number. Unknown caller. Call duration: zero seconds. Asahi stared at it. A cold chill ran down his spine. Had someone touched his phone? No. That wasn't it. This wasn't that kind of thing. Asahi laid the phone face-down. His heart was too loud. Outside the window, the rainy-season rain had begun to fall, quietly. The sound of rain filled the room. Asahi retied his long black hair and let out a big breath. He unconsciously traced the old scar above his left eyebrow. Something had begun. Somewhere they didn't know. Inside their memories. Asahi closed his eyes. Beyond the darkness, Oikawa Tooru's serve was still flying toward him. Ushijima Wakatoshi's block loomed. And outside the court, himself, crying. Asahi bit his lip. This time. This time, he'd change it. He swore it in his heart. But what that resolve would bring— Asahi didn't know yet. The rain kept falling, quietly soaking the night city of Sendai.