Kouki Sakuma, a second-year on a Miyagi high school volleyball team, is a benchwarmer hidden behind the star ace. He's not flashy, but he has watched more games than anyone. One day, manager Mio Takanashi finds his notebook packed with detailed analysis of rival schools' weaknesses. 'Wait, you wrote down all the weak points of that powerhouse school?'
From there, Mio becomes interested in Kouki. But the popular ace Ren Hayami also likes Mio. Ren sees Kouki as a rival and starts making snide rem
Screaming from the Shadows - Cracks, and a Sudden Close Approach
They won.
The first match of the Inter-High Miyagi Prefecture qualifiers. In the main arena of the Kamisugi General Gymnasium, the cheers of Aoba High School's team members, elated by their come-from-behind victory, echoed through the air. They had defeated Seiryu Academy, a powerhouse ranked in the prefecture's top four. It was an upset no one could believe.
But Sakuma Kouki's chest was not warm at all.
The edge of the bench. Even though several minutes had passed since the match ended, he remained seated there. They won. The team won. His shouting had changed the flow. Mio had pushed him forward, saying, "Why don't you just shout?" and he had screamed until his throat felt like it would tear, and it had reached his teammates' ears, and they had turned the match around. That much was certain.
And yet.
*(I couldn't stand on the court.)*
His fingers tightened again around the notebook. The page where he had written down the tendencies of Seiryu Academy's ace, Fujitsuka. The page he had looked back at over and over during the match. Its edges were swollen with sweat, slightly warped.
*(We won, so why—)*
The back of his throat still stung. It wasn't just from shouting too much. The frustration of not being acknowledged had transformed into a different kind of pain, clinging there.
In the distance, he could see his teammates embracing each other. Ren had his arm around someone's shoulder, laughing. That loud laugh was Ren's usual self. *He really does live in a different world from me*, Kouki thought.
—That was when it happened.
"Hey, Sakuma."
A low voice.
When he turned around, Ren was standing in front of him before he'd even noticed. His 184-centimeter frame cast a deep shadow over Kouki. His light brown hair, nearly blond, was still damp with sweat and plastered to his forehead. His bluish-gray eyes narrowed, looking down at him.
*(Ah, here it comes again.)*
Kouki clutched the notebook to his chest and shrank back slightly.
Ren watched him with the corner of his mouth curled up.
"We won, brainiac."
Kouki couldn't answer. His voice wouldn't come out. His throat hardened like stone, and only air leaked through.
"Hey, you listening?"
Ren stepped forward. His right hand reached out and shoved Kouki's right shoulder—hard.
"What the hell were you shouting the whole match? I couldn't concentrate because of the noise, and I held it in until after the game."
The impact of the shove made the edge of the notebook tremble slightly.
*(The voice—Mio told me to do it.)*
He wanted to say it. But if he did, things would only get worse. Kouki kept his mouth shut and dropped his gaze.
The smile vanished from Ren's face.
"Well, we won in the end, so whatever. But in the end, it was us who stood on the court. You just sat on the bench taking notes."
Kouki's heart lurched.
"Even if we win, you're just the brains."
*Just the brains.*
Those words pierced the center of Kouki's chest in exactly the same shape as the mockery he'd received before the match. Deep and heavy. It wouldn't come out, and it didn't bleed. But it was certainly, steadily, turning the core of his body cold.
Kouki couldn't say anything back. His fingertips trembled. Sweat began to seep into the hand holding the notebook.
"Hey. Say something."
Ren shoved Kouki's shoulder again, this time a little harder—thud.
At that moment.
"Stop it, Ren-kun!"
A high-pitched voice rang through the corridor.
When Kouki looked up, a chestnut-brown ponytail was swaying softly. Takanashi Mio came running over. And then, her slender arms pulled at Kouki's left arm, drawing him behind her as if to hide him.
"That's a horrible way to talk to Kouki-kun."
Mio's voice was sharp, unlike her usual bright tone. The ends of her words trembled slightly.
Mio's back, right in front of him, looked like a great wall to Kouki. A back too slender to call protective. And yet, the warmth radiating from it seeped slowly into Kouki's frozen heart.
*(Why is it like this—)*
Something deep in his chest tightened.
Ren's eyes widened for an instant at Mio's appearance. Then, immediately, he clicked his tongue in irritation.
"Huh? What do you want, manager? We won the match, so it doesn't matter. I'm just stating facts."
"It's not a fact."
Mio said it flatly. She didn't let go of Kouki's arm.
"If Kouki-kun hadn't been there, we definitely would have lost."
Mio's voice soaked into the corridor.
The surrounding team members went silent, as if water had been thrown on them. Hands holding sports drink bottles stopped. Smiles froze. The heat of victory that had filled the corridor transformed into something else in an instant.
"Huh?"
Ren's expression changed. His bluish-gray eyes looked down at Mio as if piercing through her face.
"Are you serious? You're saying we couldn't have won without that scrap of paper?"
"It's not a scrap of paper. Kouki-kun did proper research on Seiryu Academy."
Mio didn't back down a single step. Her voice wasn't trembling. It was heated with anger.
"His analysis is what made the comeback possible. No matter what you say, Ren-kun, that's a fact."
*(A fact, she says.)*
Mio's words echoed inside Kouki's heart.
Those were the words he had most wanted someone to say to him.
But he had made her say them to protect him. The thought made his body's core tremble.
Ren bit his lip. His fist clenched tightly at his side.
Inside his heart, something black swirled. It was an unbearable irritation at Mio for defending that benchwarmer, that scrap-paper man, so desperately. And it was also an impatience and frustration he didn't want to admit even to himself.
"Don't stick your nose into tactics, manager."
It was a low voice, suppressing anger.
"Your job is drinks and towels. What happens on the court is decided by those of us who stand on it."
Those words were cold.
They mocked Kouki. No—they mocked Mio too, sneering at everything the two of them had done in the corner of that bench. That was the kind of voice it was.
"Ren-kun, that's wrong. Managers think about the team more than anyone."
Mio's voice stiffened for the first time.
"And Kouki-kun is a team member. Even if he's a substitute, he's an important member of Aoba High."
"Shut up. No matter what you say, someone who can't stand on the court is useless. You think you can play volleyball with just your head?"
Ren spat the words out and tried to walk past Mio. But his feet stopped abruptly.
"...Why do you go so far to side with this guy?"
Ren's voice suddenly became quiet, with a sticky, lingering quality.
"Don't tell me—you actually like this plain, boring benchwarmer?"
Mio's face flushed bright red.
"W-what are you talking about? It's not like that! I'm just saying what's right!"
For an instant, Mio's grip on Kouki tightened. The warmth of her fingers pressed deeply, strongly, into his arm.
*(Mio-san.)*
Kouki's mind went completely blank.
*I made her angry. Because of me.* An invisible crack ran between the two of them. He felt as though he could clearly hear the sound of it—a sharp *crack*—deep in his ears.
"Tch. This is the worst."
Ren muttered that and turned his back on them. As if to say anything further would be beneath him, he strode off toward the players' waiting room, cutting through the air with his shoulders.
A heavy silence remained in the corridor.
"...Sorry, Kouki-kun. Did I say something unnecessary?"
Mio gently released her hand from Kouki's arm. That hand gripped her own antiperspirant spray bottle. She smiled, looking troubled.
"But I had to say it. The way he was treating you was just too much."
Kouki could only shake his head. His voice wouldn't come out. He wanted to say *thank you*. But those words burned and crackled at the back of his throat, refusing to take shape.
*(That's not it. I just don't want to cause you trouble.)*
*(So please, stop.)*
*(You don't have to let yourself get hurt by him too.)*
Words spun in circles inside his mind. And yet, his lips wouldn't move at all.
There was a shadow watching the exchange from a distance.
In the shadows. Right beside the entrance to the spectator stands.
Asakura Saki narrowed her cool, almond-shaped eyes slightly, staring at the scene as if devouring it. In her left ear, a silver earring glinted coldly.
*(Mio, going that far for him...)*
Something thick and heavy pooled in Saki's chest. Jealousy. And frustration. Kouki, wounded by Ren—she had been able to do nothing but watch.
*(I wouldn't defend him loudly like that.)*
*(But I could stay by his heart, more quietly.)*
Her black bangs hid her expression. The habit of twirling the ends of her hair around her fingertip emerged.
Saki's chest was restless.
After a while, Mio, looking pale, approached the two of them standing awkwardly. No—the Mio that Saki knew was always bright like the sun. But now, behind that brightness, she was wavering with anxiety.
"Saki, sorry—were you waiting for me?"
Mio noticed Saki and called out.
"...Yeah. It's fine."
Saki answered in her usual whisper-like voice.
But her eyes weren't smiling.
"...I'll head back first."
Saki averted her gaze from Mio just slightly and said it quietly.
"Eh? Ah, okay... I'll message you later."
Before Mio finished speaking, Saki had already turned her back.
That back seemed just a little more hurried than usual.
*(I'll head back first.)*
Hearing that too-brief farewell, Mio's chest ached faintly.
*(Is Saki angry...?)*
Normally, when the two of them supported the players together, Saki never turned cold like this. She would stop packing up, look Mio in the eye, and give a small nod. That was the usual Asakura Saki.
But now, Saki had disappeared down the hallway as if she wanted to erase Mio from her sight entirely.
*(What's wrong with her?)*
Mio stood there until that back was no longer visible.
Kouki was left alone in that spot.
The other team members, sensing the awkward atmosphere, hurried back to the waiting room. Only Kouki remained in the corridor. He could still feel Mio's warmth lingering on his arm.
*(Ren called me "just the brains" again.)*
*(I caused trouble for Mio.)*
*(I even dragged Saki-san into it.)*
Kouki readjusted his grip on the notebook and moved his feet, as if fleeing.
He had no destination.
He just couldn't stay in a bright place, a place with people, for even one more second.
He stepped outside the gymnasium.
The summer sun was still high, beating down mercilessly.
*(Hot.)*
And yet, the core of his body remained cold.
Kouki circled around to the back of the gymnasium.
There was an old emergency staircase there. A green iron staircase with peeling paint. People rarely passed through. A loading dock with its shutters closed, and the building wall casting a faint shadow. A lukewarm breeze carried a dusty smell.
Kouki plopped down at the bottom of the stairs.
He hugged his knees.
He placed the notebook on top of them.
"..."
Only a voiceless sigh escaped.
*(During the match, I could shout.)*
Because back then, Mio had pushed him forward. Her small hand had gripped his and given him warmth. That was why he'd been able to scream until his throat split.
*(Ah, that's right.)*
He remembered. The warmth of Mio's hand.
*(And yet, now—)*
Kouki looked at his own hands. They were trembling slightly.
*(My voice won't come out.)*
*(I'm always like this in front of Ren.)*
*(When I see his face, all the words in my notebook start to feel like meaningless symbols.)*
"...Even someone like me could do it if I just—"
The habitual phrase slipped out naturally.
Even though no one was there.
Even though no one could hear.
That voice was swallowed by the summer heat haze and vanished.
Kouki bit his lip hard.
He tasted a faint hint of blood on the inside of his lip.
*(Pathetic.)*
*(I couldn't do anything.)*
He couldn't protect Mio.
He didn't want to see that look on Saki's face.
*It's all my fault.*
Kouki's arms tightened around his knees.
Sweat got into his eyes, blurring his v
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