Haikyu!! - The Lost Spring of Memory Ch.2: Memories of Backflow — Accomplices Soaked in Rain

The rain was pounding against the window. Outside the Karasuno High gymnasium, the sky was blanketed by the heavy clouds of the rainy season front. The rain had started before noon, and by the time classes ended, it showed no sign of letting up. Inside the old wooden gym, the damp air clung to the floor and stuck to the skin. Azumane Asahi was practicing alone. No one was on the other side of the net. He aimed for the spike target painted on the wall and slammed the ball into it, again and again. His long black hair, tied back, clung to his forehead with sweat. The old scar above his left eyebrow stood out under the dim lighting. Thud. The ball hit the wall. Thud. Again. His hands were shaking. Asahi stared at his right hand. Large, knobby — a volleyball player's hand. His fingertips were trembling faintly. (Again.) The scene flashed back in the back of his mind. Sendai City Gymnasium. A packed crowd. The Spring High preliminaries final. White and teal uniforms. Aoba Johsai High. Oikawa Tooru's serve driving into his feet. He couldn't move. Shiratorizawa Academy. Ushijima Wakatoshi's iron block. His spike, deflected. And then — himself, outside the court, hugging his knees, crying. His pathetic self, wearing the black-and-orange Karasuno uniform. Asahi clenched his fist. His nails dug into his palm. He tried to drive the memory away with the pain. But it wouldn't disappear. That memory came back, every time. Asahi slammed the ball at the wall once more. Thud. Too much force. The ball flew off in a strange direction. Asahi exhaled deeply. (The ace can't be like this.) The team's emotional pillar. The ace of the Karasuno High volleyball club. Azumane Asahi had been carrying that weight alone, all this time. Without ever telling anyone about that memory. If he told them — what would happen? They'd think he'd lost his mind. Or would they believe him? No. Even if they believed him. He didn't want to drag his teammates into it. That memory of defeat. That frustration. That helplessness. He could carry it all himself. Asahi picked up the ball that had rolled to a stop. "...One more." His voice echoed faintly through the gym. Only the sound of rain answered. "Asahi-san!" A cheerful voice burst in from the gym entrance. Asahi turned around. Standing there was Hinata Shouyou. Fiery orange spiky hair. Big, shining amber eyes. He was only about five foot three, but his presence stood out anywhere in the gym. A black supporter wrapped his left knee. The fang that usually showed when he smiled was hidden now behind a serious expression. "Asahi-san, you were already practicing? Even with the rain today?" Hinata jogged closer. "Yeah. Just wanted to move a little." Asahi forced a smile. Just lifting the corners of his mouth made his heart pound. Hinata stared at Asahi's face. "Asahi-san, you look pale." "I'm fine. You worry too much." Asahi lightly patted Hinata's orange head. He didn't want Hinata to notice that his hand was still shaking. Asahi pulled his hand back quickly. "Anyway, you here for extra practice too?" "Yes! Even in the rain, I want to jump!" Hinata lined up beside Asahi and faced the wall. The two of them began hitting against the wall. Thud. Thud. The sound of the ball overlapped with the rain. Hinata's movements were light, as always. He made up for his lack of height with his jumping power. Watching him, Asahi felt his heart settle, just a little. (This guy always gives everything.) Hinata Shouyou. A complete amateur who hadn't even had a volleyball club in middle school. But his jumping power and bottomless brightness had blown a new wind into Karasuno. Asahi thought of him as a reliable kouhai. At the same time, he thought of him as reckless. This guy pushed himself too hard. He didn't know his own limits. That's why Asahi couldn't take his eyes off him. "Asahi-san, um—" Hinata suddenly stopped the ball. "Hm?" Asahi stopped too. Hinata held the ball and turned to face Asahi. His amber eyes looked straight at him. "Do you remember that time you collapsed, Asahi-san?" Asahi's heart jumped. "...Yeah. I told you it was just dizziness." "Back then, I saw something strange." Hinata's voice dropped, just a little. His usual cheerful tone faded into the background. "Something strange?" "You, Asahi-san. Outside the court. Crying." Asahi felt his breath stop. His lungs stopped moving. "Wearing the black-and-orange uniform, hugging your knees, crying so painfully." Hinata's words pierced Asahi's heart slowly, from beyond the sound of the rain. "I'd never seen you like that before, Asahi-san. But it was so real. I knew right away it wasn't a dream." Asahi couldn't say anything. No voice came out. His throat was stuck. "And that's when I thought—" Hinata took a step closer. "I hated it. Seeing you cry outside the court." Hinata's eyes wavered. Those eyes that were always bright as the sun. "So this time, I want to win no matter what. I don't want to make you cry, Asahi-san." Hinata's voice wasn't shaking. It was direct, strong — and yet, somehow desperate. Asahi took in Hinata's words with his whole body. Deep in his chest, something grew warm. (This guy is serious.) (He's seriously accepting that memory.) Asahi exhaled slowly. "...So you saw that memory too." Asahi's voice was calmer than he expected. Hinata nodded firmly. "Yes! I had that dream. The dream where we lose to Aoba Johsai and Shiratorizawa in the Spring High preliminaries final. The dream where you're crying outside the court, Asahi-san." Asahi closed his eyes at Hinata's words. (So that's how it is.) (Hinata has that memory too.) Asahi felt fear and relief crash over him at the same time. Fear. He'd dragged a teammate into it. Relief. He wasn't alone. "Asahi-san." Hinata gently grabbed the hem of Asahi's jersey. "I want to fight with you, Asahi-san. With this memory too — together." Hinata's hand was trembling faintly. Asahi gently took that hand. "...Thanks, Hinata." Asahi's voice shook, just a little. "I'm done carrying this alone." Asahi squeezed Hinata's hand back firmly. Hinata's face lit up. "Asahi-san!" Hinata almost lunged at him but held himself back. "Then I have more to tell you! About that memory — the rest of it." "The rest?" "The last scene of that final. What was happening while you were crying outside the court, Asahi-san." Hinata tried to step even closer. That instant. A sharp pain shot through Asahi's head. "—Gh!" Asahi clutched his head and crumpled to the floor. Everything went white. Something pulsed sharply deep in his temples. It hurt. "Asahi-san!?" Hinata's voice sounded far away. Asahi felt something warm trickle down the back of his nose. Red. A nosebleed. One drop. Two. A red stain spread across the floor. "Asahi-san! Your nose! You're bleeding!" Hinata rushed to his side. "Are you okay!? I'll go get a towel!" "Wait." Asahi grabbed Hinata's arm. "...I'm fine. Just tired." Asahi wiped under his nose with the back of his hand. Red blood smeared his skin. "Sorry for worrying you." Asahi forced a smile. Just lifting the corners of his mouth made his heart pound. "But the blood—" "I'm really fine. I haven't been sleeping enough lately." Asahi stood up. His knees were trembling faintly. "Anyway, tell me the rest. The last scene of that final." Asahi changed the subject. Hinata still looked worried. But seeing Asahi trying to continue, he opened his mouth. "Okay. That last scene, um..." Hinata began to speak. Asahi listened, aware of the feeling of blood still under his nose. (Again.) (Touching the memory breaks my body.) Asahi clearly recognized the abnormality happening to him. Every time he recalled the memory, sharp pain shot through him. Nosebleeds. This wasn't just fatigue. This was a price. The price of having memories of the future. Asahi listened to Hinata talk, and quietly swore in his heart. (I can't tell Hinata about this yet.) (I don't want to worry him.) (I have to protect him.) Asahi clenched his fist. Practice resumed. The club members had gathered in the gym. Sawamura Daichi, Sugawara Koushi, Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Nishinoya Yuu. And Kageyama Tobio. Straight black hair. Sharp navy-blue eyes. Same height as Asahi — about five foot eleven. A cool face, but his passion for volleyball burned hotter than anyone's. Kageyama was watching Asahi and Hinata closely. Asahi and Hinata exchanged glances frequently. Occasionally, they spoke in low voices. Tsukishima Kei watched them with cold eyes. Short blond hair. Sharp gaze behind glasses. About six foot three. Karasuno's first-year middle blocker. Tsukishima sat by the wall, drinking from his bottle. His gaze bored into Asahi and Hinata's backs. "Senpais." Tsukishima called out. Asahi turned around. "You're hiding something, aren't you." Tsukishima's voice was cold. "...What are you talking about?" Asahi feigned calm. But his heart jumped. "You said something about memories. Just now." Tsukishima pushed up his glasses. "I don't care if you get dragged around by whatever. Just don't cause trouble for the team." Asahi couldn't say anything back. Hinata tried to argue. "Hey, Tsukishima! Asahi-san has nothing to do with—" Hinata stepped toward Tsukishima. "Stop, Hinata." Asahi held him back. "But Asahi-san!" "It's fine." Asahi gently pressed Hinata's shoulder. Tsukishima watched the two of them with cold eyes. "Well, whatever. I just want to play volleyball." Tsukishima said that and stood up. His back disappeared into the depths of the gym. Asahi watched him go and thought. (Tsukishima's noticed.) (That something's wrong.) Asahi took his hand off Hinata's shoulder. "Sorry, Hinata. For dragging you in." "Don't apologize, Asahi-san. I brought it up myself." Hinata looked straight up at Asahi's face. "I want to win with you, Asahi-san. No matter what. So this is my choice." Hinata's eyes didn't waver. Looking into them, Asahi felt his heart lighten, just a little. "...Yeah. Thanks." Asahi patted Hinata's orange head once more. That night. Asahi was in his room at home. Outside the window, the rain was still falling. The sound of rain filled the room. Asahi sat on his bed, staring at his smartphone. The screen was pitch black. But something was wrong. A notification appeared. Sender unknown. Not a messaging app. Not email. Just text, floating on the screen. [Those who hold the memory will be erased.] Asahi's eyes widened. His heart leaped. "...What is this?" Asahi scrolled the screen. But no sender, no date, nothing was displayed. Just that single line, floating in black text on a white background. [Those who hold the memory will be erased.] Asahi set the phone on his desk. His fingertips were trembling faintly. Erased. What? By whom? Asahi thought back to what he'd talked about with Hinata today. The Spring High preliminaries final. That memory of defeat. The sharp pain in his body. The nosebleed. And now, this warning. These couldn't be coincidence. Asahi was certain. (This is someone's deliberate interference.) (Our memories are being manipulated by someone.) Asahi retied his long black hair behind his head. He unconsciously traced the old scar above his left eyebrow with his finger. "...Erased, huh." Asahi muttered quietly. Fear crawled through his body, cold, from the nape of his neck down to his waist. But at the same time. Deep in Asahi's heart, another emotion began to burn quietly. (I won't lose.) (I will never lose.) (With Hinata. No matter what.) Asahi picked up his smartphone again. The words were still floating on the screen. [Those who hold the memory will be erased.] Asahi stared at them. The rain kept falling, filling the room. The next morning. The rain had stopped. Asahi passed through Karasuno High's front gate. The air, washed by last ni

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Haikyu!! - The Lost Spring of Memory Episode 2: Memories of Backflow — Accomplices Soaked in Rain