Haikyuu!!: Can a reclusive genius fall in love?

In April, cherry blossoms danced in Miyagi Prefecture, fluttering down like pink snowflakes across the campus of Aoba Josai High School. The laughter of new students mingled with the chatter of returning students, creating a vibrant and restless atmosphere unique to spring.

In the heart of this vibrant and energetic scene, one figure stood out as an oddity.

The phone vibrated, and Yukimura Tsukishiro picked it up.

[Fox High School's War Correspondent: How's the New School?]

It was a Line message from a friend. Yukimura Tsukishiro's fingertips lingered on the screen for a moment, his emerald eyes flickering slightly.

[Bai: Hmm, not bad.]

His replies were concise, as if typing an extra word would be a waste. But those who know him well would know that this was already a sign that he was willing to communicate.

This time the other party replied a little slower, sending a picture: a white cat curled up on the sofa, looking lazy.

[Fox High School's war correspondent: Just like you.]

Xuecun Yuebai stared at the photo, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the edge of her phone. Just then, another message popped up:

[Fox High School's War Correspondent: I heard you want to join the volleyball club?]

Xuecun Yuebai's gaze drifted back to the distant stadium, his fingertip hovering above the screen, before finally replying with only one word:

[Bai: Hmm.]

The conversation ended there, without farewells or pleasantries—a consistent style of communication they'd maintained for years: concise, efficient, yet strangely maintaining a kind of unspoken understanding.

Yukimura Tsukihiro stood in front of the classroom of Class 3, Grade 1. His rare pure white short hair shimmered with a faint silver light in the sunlight streaming through the window, making his skin appear even paler and more translucent. His long, thick eyelashes drooped, casting light shadows beneath his eyes, tightly sealing away all the emotions within them.

"This is Yukimura Tsukishiro, who will be transferring to our class starting today." The homeroom teacher's voice was gentle, yet tinged with a barely perceptible hint of caution. "I hope everyone can get along well and take good care of our new classmate."

A murmur rippled through the classroom. The girls exchanged admiring glances, while the boys curiously observed this freshman with his unique aura.

"Oh my god, is his hair real? It's so beautiful! It's like snow..."

"Her skin is so fair, and her eyes are green; she's as delicate as a doll."

"So tall! She looks so aloof, almost unapproachable..."

Yukimura Tsukishiro ignored all the discussions, simply nodded slightly, and said in an almost inaudible voice, "Nice to meet you," before heading straight to the empty seat by the window at the back of the classroom.

He took a small silver disinfectant spray bottle and a pure white handkerchief from his finely crafted leather backpack and began meticulously wiping the tables and chairs, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings. His movements were fluid and focused, his fingertips gently tracing every corner of the tabletop. The students around him exchanged bewildered glances, surprised by this freshman's unconventional behavior.

"Um, Yukimura-kun, our desks and chairs are cleaned by someone every day..." A girl with a ponytail mustered up her courage to speak, her voice growing softer and softer.

The girl's pale hand paused, her eyelashes trembling slightly, but she didn't respond, simply continuing what she was doing. The girl turned away awkwardly, and a subtle silence fell over the classroom.

During the first class, Yuebai maintained an upright posture, his gaze focused on the blackboard. His fingers unconsciously rubbed the white bandage wrapped around his wrist, the delicate fabric enveloping his wrist as if seeking some unseen sense of security.

The bell rang for recess, and the students gathered in twos and threes to chat. Yuebai, however, quickly got up, skillfully avoiding any possible contact with anyone, and walked towards the open-air platform at the end of the corridor.

A gentle spring breeze caressed the scene as Yuebai leaned against the railing, overlooking the entire campus from above. His gaze wandered aimlessly until it finally settled on the volleyball hall in the distance.

There, one could faintly hear the sharp sound of sneakers rubbing against the floor, the dull thud of volleyballs hitting the ground, and the energetic shouts and laughter of the boys.

A barely perceptible ripple passed through his eyes, like a pebble thrown into a still lake, creating subtle ripples.

------

The bell rang, finally ending the morning classes. Yukimura Tsukishiro declined all invitations to lunch and went alone to an empty music classroom on the top floor of the teaching building. He took out an exquisite sandwich from his lunchbox and ate it in small bites, each movement mechanical and rhythmic, as if executing a pre-set program.

After the meal, he carefully wiped every inch of his hands with disinfectant wipes, not even missing between his fingers. Then he took out disinfectant spray and cleaned the surrounding space again. Only after completing all this did he seem to finally allow himself to relax, taking out a neatly folded bluish-white handkerchief from a special pocket inside his backpack.

The handkerchief is made of fine Egyptian cotton, but it's quite old, with slightly frayed edges. However, it's been washed clean and has a faint cedar scent. In the lower right corner, a small volleyball pattern, meticulously embroidered with light blue silk thread, is faintly discernible, with fine and unique stitches.

Xuecun Yuebai's fingertips gently traced the pattern, his gaze becoming hazy and distant, as if staring through time at some unseen distance.

When the school bell rang, he quickly and orderly packed his belongings, cleverly avoiding the main gate during peak hours and choosing a less crowded side street.

As the sun set, it cast a long shadow over him, bathing his white hair in a warm golden glow. He walked slowly, seemingly in no hurry to go anywhere, as if deliberately prolonging this time alone. His leather shoes clattered almost inaudibly on the fallen cherry blossoms.

As I turned the corner, a clear and melodious bell suddenly broke the tranquility of the twilight.

"Excuse me! Can I pass by?" A bright and magnetic male voice rang out along with a bicycle bell.

Xuecun Yuebai subconsciously stepped aside to make way and looked up.

A tall figure rode past him on a bicycle. The boy was wearing the school uniform of Qingye City West, his jacket casually open, billowing in the wind and revealing a neat white shirt underneath. He rode very fast, yet strangely maintained a relaxed elegance, as if he wasn't in a hurry, but rather enjoying the spring breeze and the sunset.

"Thanks!" The boy turned around and smiled, his brown hair flying in the wind, his eyebrows curving into a beautiful arc, his eyes filled with the afterglow of the setting sun, so bright it was almost blinding.

At that moment, time seemed to stand still.

The crisp sound of the bicycle bell vibrated in the air, penetrating layers of defenses and striking a seemingly forgotten corner of Yuebai's heart.

A strange, inexplicable feeling swept over me.

My heart pounded uncontrollably, and my breath hitched slightly. The feeling was strange and complex, a mixture of an indescribable sense of peace and a faint bitterness, as if I had found something important that I had lost long ago, but I couldn't remember what it was. I could only let the ringing of the bell echo in my heart, awakening my dormant memories.

Yukimura Tsukihiro stood frozen in place, her gaze involuntarily following the departing figure.

The brown-haired boy seemed to sense his gaze. He suddenly braked his car a short distance away, put one foot on the ground, and looked back. His eyes met Yukimura Tsukihiro's, a hint of curiosity flashing in his eyes, before he broke into an even brighter smile, waving at him. His brown eyes shimmered with a honey-like luster in the setting sun.

As if burned, Yukimura Tsukishiro abruptly lowered his head and hurriedly turned to walk in the opposite direction. For the first time, his steps lacked their usual calm and composure, showing a rare hint of panic.

Even after walking a long way, his heart was still pounding. The sound of that bell seemed to still echo in his ears, awakening something that had been dormant for a long time.

Back at his villa in an upscale residential area, Xuecun Yuebai unlocked the heavy oak door with his fingerprint. The interior was spacious and bright, exquisitely decorated yet cold and lacking in warmth. Clearly, apart from the housekeeper who would come regularly to prepare meals, he was the only person in the beautiful house most of the time.

He put down his bag, and the first thing he did was still the familiar disinfection procedure. This ritual had become his daily routine; only in this way could he feel a sense of security in this empty space.

As night fell, Yukimura Tsukihiro took a bath and changed into comfortable silk pajamas, but she couldn't fall asleep at all.

He stood before the French windows, gazing at the dry landscape garden bathed in moonlight. The pebbles gleamed like silver, the pine shadows swayed gently, a scene of beauty like a still painting, yet also one of breathtaking silence.

My phone vibrated again; it was the same familiar contact.

[Fox High School War Correspondent: Alive?]

Yuebai looked at the message, her fingertips twitching slightly.

[Bai: Hmm.]

[Fox High School War Correspondent: How was the first day?]

[Bai: It's alright.]

[Fox High School's war correspondent: Get some rest.]

Xuecun Yuebai didn't reply to the message. He put down his phone, walked to the bedside, took out sleeping pills from the bedside table, and swallowed two. Under the influence of the drugs, he finally fell asleep, but his sleep was not restful.

In his dream, he returned to that dark place. Fear surged up like a tide, cold and suffocating. He ran in the darkness, not knowing where the road ahead led, only hearing his own rapid breathing and heartbeat.

Then, a bell rang.

Crisp, bright, piercing through the darkness.

In his dream, he ran desperately towards the direction from which the bell rang, and finally saw a glimmer of light. Two blurry figures appeared in the light, their faces indistinct, yet strangely reassuring...

Xuecun Yuebai suddenly woke up, sat up, and his forehead was covered in cold sweat.

The sky outside the window was just beginning to lighten, the morning mist had not yet dissipated, and the distant mountain ranges were still indistinct.

He raised his hand and pressed it against his still wildly beating heart, his eyes filled with confusion and bewilderment.

The neatly folded pale blue handkerchief was now clutched tightly in his hand, as if it were the only link between him and the world.

The phone screen lit up in the darkness, displaying an unread message.

[Fox High School War Reporter: ...Remember to come find me if anything happens.]