The Volleyball Genius

Kenshiro Tsukigawa walked quietly down the halls of Aoba Johsai High, his eyes glued to his phone screen. Since his first day, he had settled into the routine of school with a certain indifference. The bustling noise of students around him barely registered; his thoughts were consumed by the messages he was exchanging with old friends. The school seemed ordinary to him, but he knew that things could change at any moment.

As he descended the stairs near the gym, he failed to notice the hurried footsteps of Oikawa Tooru approaching. In a split second, Oikawa collided with him, knocking the phone from his hands, sending it flying toward the ground.

Cling.

Kenshiro didn't even flinch. Almost instinctively, he leaned forward and, with a quick motion, caught his phone in mid-air with one hand, his arm stretching just enough for it to land perfectly in his palm—without a scratch.

Oikawa froze, eyes wide in surprise. The calm and composed boy in front of him had just caught his phone in a way that seemed almost unnatural. He couldn't help but stare, clearly impressed.

"…Did you just do that?" Oikawa asked, a mix of surprise and curiosity in his voice. He stepped closer to Kenshiro, his eyes narrowing. "Did you guys see that? This guy… he's fast."

Kenshiro stood up slowly, tucking the phone into his pocket with a casual air, as if it was no big deal. "It happens," he said flatly. "I didn't want it to fall."

Oikawa let out a loud laugh, clearly amused by Kenshiro's nonchalance. This kind of calm, this level of control—it was rare. Too rare. Especially for a first-year student. Most people, when something unexpected happened, would panic or stumble. But Kenshiro? He handled it effortlessly. This kind of composed confidence intrigued Oikawa.

"Not bad, Tsukigawa," Oikawa said, a smile of interest crossing his face. "That was impressive."

Kenshiro gave no reply, but his eyes shifted towards Oikawa, waiting for the next words.

Oikawa stepped forward, his tone suddenly more serious. "You've got something. You didn't just catch the phone; you controlled it. You've got the reflexes. You know what that means?"

Kenshiro raised an eyebrow. He still wasn't sure where Oikawa was going with this. "And what does that mean to you?"

Oikawa's grin widened. "It means you could be a perfect fit for volleyball." He leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "You're quick, you've got that control… I think you'd make an incredible player."

Kenshiro blinked, surprised. Volleyball? He had never even considered it. He wasn't sure if Oikawa was being serious or just playing around. But something in his tone caught Kenshiro's attention, a challenge, an invitation.

"Volleyball?" Kenshiro repeated, an eyebrow still raised. "You want me to join your team?"

Oikawa grinned wider, the competitive gleam in his eyes growing brighter. "Exactly," he said confidently. "I think you'd be an asset. Let's see if you can do something amazing with it. Just come to practice and try it out. What do you have to lose?"

Kenshiro paused for a moment, observing Oikawa carefully. The invitation was genuine, but what was the catch? He wasn't sure, but the challenge was tempting.

"Fine," he said finally, his voice calm but firm. "I'll give it a try. Let's see what this is all about."

"Great!" Oikawa's grin grew even wider. "You won't regret it."

The gym was alive with activity when they arrived. The Aoba Johsai team was in the middle of a warm-up, moving in synchronized patterns—passes, spikes, and blocks—all perfectly executed. Oikawa gave a signal to one of the coaches, who nodded and granted them permission for an impromptu match.

"Alright, Tsukigawa, time to show us what you can do," Oikawa said, his voice full of challenge. "It's just a practice match. Let's see what you've got."

Kenshiro stepped onto the court, watching the players closely. They were all perfectly coordinated, moving with incredible speed. The game wasn't just about skill; it was about timing, precision, and reflexes. All qualities that Kenshiro knew he had. He wasn't intimidated. He knew he could handle this.

The game kicked off quickly. Oikawa served the first ball with incredible precision and power, and the opposing team immediately returned it toward Kenshiro.

Kenshiro's eyes locked on the ball as it came toward him. He moved without thinking, his hand rising to meet it in a smooth motion. His control over the ball was perfect. It wasn't just a reception; he manipulated the ball, directing it to exactly where it needed to go. It wasn't an ordinary move—it was a calculated action, precise and effective.

Oikawa, observing from the back of the court, widened his eyes. He had never seen a reception like that. Kenshiro wasn't just playing; he was commanding the ball, guiding it with a level of control that was almost… artistic.

"Not bad, Tsukigawa!" Oikawa yelled, grinning. "That was smooth."

Kenshiro didn't respond. Instead, he eyed the ball that had bounced and was coming down. With a quick, instinctive movement, he launched the ball straight to Oikawa, the pass so fast and precise that Oikawa didn't need to think. He simply received it and sent it back with ease.

But it didn't end there. As soon as the ball came back to their side, Kenshiro rushed forward, his movements almost a blur. He jumped into the air, slamming the ball with such force and accuracy that it was as if he was aiming a cannon at the opposing team. The ball shot past them, too fast to block.

"What the—?!" one of the opposing players gasped, unable to react to the powerful attack.

Oikawa, watching from the back, was stunned. The way Kenshiro controlled the ball, the way he used his body—there was something unique about him. It was almost like he had the control of an artist, but with the power of a beast. No one on the opposing side could keep up.

"That was… insane," Oikawa muttered under his breath, watching the ball land in the opposing court.

The game continued, but every time the ball came into Kenshiro's hands, it was an opportunity for a perfect attack. His passes were precise, his shots unstoppable. With every move, he demonstrated an impressive mix of speed, power, and finesse. The opposing team couldn't keep up.

At one point, with the score neck and neck, the ball flew from one side of the court to the other at an intense pace. Oikawa received a perfect pass and prepared to attack with his usual force. But before he could even strike, Kenshiro darted forward, diving low, and intercepted the ball, sending it at an impossible angle back to the opposing side. No one had time to react. The ball hit the ground with a resounding thud.

Silence swept over the gym for a moment as the Aoba Johsai team stood in awe. They had never seen such control, such power. Oikawa, eyes wide, turned to Kenshiro, a mix of admiration and respect in his gaze.

"You really do have something," Oikawa said, his voice full of awe. "You've got that special thing."

Kenshiro simply nodded, his usual calm demeanor never wavering. "It's all about timing and control."

Oikawa laughed, clearly impressed by Kenshiro's modesty. "Timing, control... and raw talent. You've got the full package. Listen, I'm telling you right now—you're meant for this sport."

He turned to face Kenshiro, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Together, we'll reach the top of the world. Nothing will stop us."

Kenshiro met Oikawa's gaze, a spark of determination in his own eyes. He wasn't sure if volleyball was his destiny, but one thing was clear: this was only the beginning.