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

The echoes of the clamor in the gymnasium seemed to linger on their eardrums, refusing to dissipate. The salt stains left by evaporating sweat clung to their skin, and the muscles swelled with a bittersweet soreness and satisfaction after the intense competition. But none of this could extinguish the burning excitement in the eyes of the Aoba Johsai volleyball team members. A grueling intra-squad scrimmage had ended in a narrow victory, and the joy of triumph, like flammable gas, quickly filled every corner of the locker room.

"I won! I blocked three of Iwa-chan's powerful dunks today!" Oikawa Tetsu's voice was always the first to pierce the air, with his unique, slightly exaggerated pride. He rubbed his still dripping brown hair with a towel while nudging Iwaizumi, who was changing his shoes with a sullen face, with his elbow.

"Shut up, trash Kawa! I was letting you get into your rhythm on purpose!" Iwaizumi retorted angrily without looking up, but a barely perceptible smile of satisfaction with the team's overall performance betrayed his tightly pursed lips. He neatly tied his shoelaces, stood up, and glanced at the young faces in the locker room, some excited, some tired. "You played well today. Especially your defensive rotations, they were much smoother than last week."

"Yo! It's rare to hear Iwa-chan praise me!" Hanamaki Takashi laughed and put his arm around Matsukawa Ichishige's shoulder. "To celebrate Iwaizumi-senpai's once-in-a-century kindness, shall we go get something good to eat? I know a new yakiniku restaurant opened near the back gate of the school, and students can get a discount!"

The suggestion was met with immediate approval from almost everyone. The boys' fatigue quickly vanished under the magic of the word "gathering," replaced by a pure longing for food and a noisy atmosphere. Kindaichi Yutaro and Kunimi Hide exchanged a glance and nodded, although Kunimi Hide's face clearly said, "I'd rather go home and sleep than eat barbecue," but he usually didn't explicitly refuse team activities.

Amidst the noisy discussions, Yukimura Tsukishiro remained as quiet as an anomaly. He had already changed into his clean school uniform, his short, moon-white hair perfectly styled, as if the astonishingly powerful, explosive spikes he had displayed on the court were merely an illusion. He sat alone on a bench in the far corner of the locker room, head slightly bowed, meticulously wiping each finger with a disinfectant wipe, not even missing between his fingers, as if trying to completely eliminate any stickiness from exercise and any possibility of indirect contact with others. After completing this ritual, he took out a neatly folded pale blue handkerchief from his backpack, carefully dried his hands, and then cautiously put the handkerchief back in its place. The entire process was quiet and smooth, completely out of place with the surrounding clamor, forming its own world.

Oikawa Tetsu's gaze swept across the crowd, landing precisely on that quiet white figure. His bright smile remained unchanged, but his eyes softened slightly, tinged with an almost habitual attentiveness. He pushed aside his teammates who were discussing how many plates of beef tongue they would eat, and walked a few steps to Yukimura Tsukishiro, stopping considerately at a distance that wouldn't make the other feel pressured.

"Yuki-chan~" His voice was softer than usual, tinged with amusement, "Shall we go together? I heard that shop has really good desserts, like honey toast and matcha ice cream~"

Yukimura's pale eyelashes fluttered slightly, and his emerald eyes lifted from the ground, glancing quickly at Oikawa Toru before lowering again. His fingers unconsciously tightened around the strap of his backpack. He had a natural aversion to crowded, noisy, enclosed spaces; they made his nerve endings tense up instinctively. But Oikawa Toru's deliberate emphasis on "dessert," and his expectant yet unforced tone, were like a delicate feather, gently tickling an inexplicable urge within him to draw closer to that warmth.

He remained silent for several seconds, so long that Oikawa Tetsu almost expected to receive a silent rejection like many times before, before finally nodding very lightly, almost imperceptibly. The gesture was so small it was as if he was afraid of being surprised by his own decision.

Oikawa Tetsu's eyes lit up instantly, as if he had caught a star. He immediately smiled even more brightly, but didn't move any closer, simply saying casually, "Great! It's a deal then! Iwa-chan, everyone's here, let's go!"

Iwaizumi saw everything but said nothing, only waving his hand: "Hurry up, all of you, stop dawdling!"

A large group of people left the school in a grand procession, their shadows stretched long by the setting sun, their laughter echoing along the way. Yukimura Tsukishiro quietly followed at the back of the group, while Oikawa Tetsu walked naturally a short distance ahead of him, occasionally turning back to say a few insignificant words, or exchanging a banter with Iwaizumi beside him, subtly integrating him into the flow of the group without making him feel uneasy about being surrounded.

The newly opened barbecue restaurant was bustling with activity. The warm yellow lights and the sizzling sound of food grilling created a lively and vibrant atmosphere. Qingcheng and his group occupied the two largest long tables in the restaurant, which were pushed together, instantly making the corner space feel crowded yet full of life.

"Meat! Meat! Meat!" The boys couldn't wait to order, and the menus were passed around in a frenzy, instantly igniting the atmosphere.

Yukimura Tsukishiro chose the seat closest to the wall, the solid wall behind him giving him a sense of security. However, he remained slightly tense, his emerald eyes lowered, his gaze fixed on the clean but inevitably slightly greasy table in front of him, as if using willpower to resist the surrounding noise and unfamiliar smells. Oikawa Tetsu sat down very naturally opposite him, separated by Iwaizumi Ichi and Hanamaki Takahiro, neither too far to be distant nor too close to make him nervous.

The food was quickly served, and the grill pan instantly became steaming hot. The dripping grease and ignited flames drew cheers from everyone. Iwaizumi, displaying the authority of a vice-captain, took charge of grilling the meat, skillfully placing large slices of beef on the grill with a pleasing sizzle. Oikawa Toru, meanwhile, was busy directing: "This medium-rare cut is for Iwa-chan! This slightly charred cut is for Matsukawa! Wow, this marbled cut is perfect, it's for Yuki-chan!"

Without even turning around, he precisely placed a perfectly grilled, slightly pink premium beef short rib onto the plate in front of Yukimura Tsukishiro, followed immediately by a small bowl of matcha ice cream: "Let's start with something sweet to whet our appetites!"

Yukimura Tsukishiro paused, startled by the sudden appearance of food on his plate, and instinctively glanced at Oikawa Tetsu. Oikawa Tetsu was busy fighting with Hanamaki for the last piece of grilled pork belly; his profile was slightly blurred by the rising steam, but a bright smile still played on his lips. Yukimura Tsukishiro silently picked up his clean chopsticks and began to eat the ice cream in small bites. The cool, sweet taste melted on his tongue, subtly soothing his somewhat overloaded nerves. Then he began to quietly and extremely politely eat the tender, juicy beef, his movements so proper that they didn't resemble those of a high school student after exercise, a stark contrast to the ravenous eating around him.

Halfway through the meal, the atmosphere grew increasingly lively. The clinking of carbonated drink glasses, the sizzling of grilled meat, and the unrestrained laughter of the teenagers mingled together, creating a sea of ​​joy. The delight of victory, amplified by the food, intensified. Some began telling lame jokes, others reminisced about the exciting moments of the day's competition, and some even spontaneously broke into a chorus of the school song, singing off-key.

Yukimura Tsukishiro remained quiet, but the icy isolation surrounding him seemed to have melted a little. He sipped the oolong tea that Oikawa Tetsu had specially ordered for him, without ice, listening to Iwaizumi Ichika quietly scolding Oikawa Tetsuka for burning the meat while talking, and watching Kindaichi Yutaro earnestly serving food to Kunimi Hide, only to be met with the latter's lazy disdain. Occasionally, a very faint trace of gentleness, which even he himself did not notice, would flash across his emerald eyes.

However, the waves of joy surge and crash against the shore, sometimes splashing uncomfortably out of control.

Kindaichi, a first-year student, performed exceptionally well in today's practice match and was particularly excited. After a few drinks, his cheeks were flushed red. He had probably drunk too much alcoholic beverages (although Iwaizumi had explicitly forbidden it), and was excitedly shouting something. He stood up unsteadily, his gaze sweeping across the table before finally settling on the quiet white-haired figure in the corner.

Perhaps to express closeness, or perhaps out of excessive excitement and loss of sense of propriety, Kindaichi suddenly grinned with a big, harmless smile and lunged at Yukimura Tsukishiro across half a table, his arms outstretched, trying to grab him from behind and forcibly pull him into the vortex of celebration.

"Yukimura! Your cross-court spike today was absolutely amazing—!"

His movements were too fast and too sudden, full of the uncontrollable passion and recklessness of a young man.

For Yukimura Tsukishiro, the world was instantly compressed, distorted, and faded at that moment.

All the noisy voices, the aroma of barbecue, the warm lights—all senses were instantly stripped away.

All that remained was the sudden, unannounced oppressive feeling that came from behind.

An unfamiliar body temperature.

Uncontrolled physical contact.

And the safety distance has been completely broken.

"boom--"

My heart felt as if it had been gripped tightly by an icy hand, suddenly stopping its beating, then pounding wildly against my chest with a deafening roar that drowned out all other sounds.

The blood seemed to freeze instantly, then surged back to the brain in the next second, bringing a violent dizziness and buzzing.

His pupils contracted sharply, and all the glimmer of light in his emerald eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by a pure, primal, bottomless fear and terror. It was no longer the aloof or indifferent gaze he usually wore, but the gaze of a wild beast whose fatal wound had been stepped on and which was utterly enraged by fear.

"Don't touch me—!!!"

A hoarse, almost inhuman growl, filled with extreme horror and resistance, burst forth from the depths of Yukimura Tsukishiro's throat.

He didn't even turn around to see who it was.

His body reacted purely out of instinct.

His movements were astonishingly fast, almost explosive. He leaned forward abruptly, his right elbow slamming backward with a speed and explosive power that seemed almost professionally trained, striking Kindaichi precisely in the chest. At the same time, his left hand swung back sharply, forcefully swatting away the arm that was about to touch his shoulder.

"Ugh!" Kindaichi was completely unprepared for such a violent resistance. He felt a tightness in his chest, cried out in pain, and was pushed back several steps by the enormous force, almost knocking over a chair. The excited smile on his face was instantly replaced by astonishment and pain, and he sobered up considerably.

Yukimura Tsukishiro suddenly stood up, the movement so forceful it nearly overturned the chair behind him. His face was deathly pale, devoid of any color, his breathing rapid as if he had just finished a marathon, his chest heaving violently. His emerald eyes were wide open, filled with unbearable fear, intense aggression, and a hint of bewilderment, as if trapped in a desperate situation. Every muscle in his body was taut to the limit, trembling slightly, as if he were about to launch another attack or turn and flee at any moment.

The entire barbecue restaurant seemed to have been put on silent mode.

All sounds—laughter, conversation, the sizzling of grilled meat—vanished instantly.

Every gaze was fixed on the white-haired boy who had suddenly burst forth with astonishment and disbelief.

The joyful atmosphere was completely shattered and frozen by this sudden and horrifying scene, leaving only a deathly silence and a pervasive sense of helplessness and shock.

The only sound in the air was Yukimura Tsukishiro's heavy, painful breathing, which she could not suppress.