The classroom buzzed with the low murmur of pencils scratching against paper and the occasional shuffle of chairs. Akane tried to focus on the lesson, though the earlier laughter still lingered in her mind. She glanced over at Ken, who was sitting quietly, his gaze fixed on the window.
The sunlight highlighted his bright red hair, and his expression, distant and thoughtful, made it clear his mind wasn't anywhere near the classroom.
Fujita-sensei, writing on the board, paused mid-sentence. She turned toward the class, her sharp eyes landing on Ken. "Fuji-kun," she said, her voice cutting through the quiet.
Ken blinked, startled, and turned toward her, his expression confused. "Yes, sensei?"
"What do you think about this question?" Fujita gestured toward the board, where a detailed equation was written.
Ken's brow furrowed as he glanced at the board for the first time. After a moment of silence, he gave his answer, his voice calm and confident.
The classroom went still. It was the correct answer.
Fujita raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised but not showing it. "Impressive," she said, her tone neutral. "But Fuji-kun, I would appreciate it if you paid attention. I know my class isn't the most exciting, but for both our sakes, try to stay with us. It might be easy for you, but it'd be easier for me if all of my students were attentive."
Ken blinked at her, his expression unreadable at first. He had expected a scolding or a dismissive command to sit down, but her honesty caught him off guard. A soft chuckle escaped his lips, and he nodded.
"Understood, sensei. My apologies," he said, his tone sincere.
As he settled back into his seat, Akane noticed a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. For the rest of the lesson, Ken's attention remained on the board, though that small smile lingered, making him seem a little less aloof.
The day dragged on, with classes blending into each other, but Akane's spirits lifted slightly when she found herself in an elective class with Ken. He didn't say much, his focus seemingly back on the lesson, but the proximity gave her a faint sense of comfort.
When the final bell rang, Akane barely contained her excitement. She packed her bag quickly and darted out of the classroom, her heart pounding as she made her way to the gymnasium. This was it—her first real step into the volleyball club.
As she approached, she noticed a group of boys heading toward one of the two gymnasiums, basketballs tucked under their arms.
Their animated voices carried on the spring breeze, and Akane realized they must be part of the prestigious basketball team she had heard about. That left the other gymnasium for the volleyball club.
Taking a deep breath, Akane pushed open the door to the gym. The faint echo of laughter greeted her, and she saw a handful of new boys already there, Ken among them. He was standing off to the side, listening as Keisuke, the boys' captain, spoke animatedly to the group.
Akane scanned the room for other girls but saw none. Her heart sank slightly as the weight of her classmates' earlier remarks pressed against her chest.
She hadn't expected the girls' team to be thriving, but being the only new member made their laughter sting a little more.
Still, Akane forced a smile, determined not to let her disappointment show.
"Hey, Hayashi!" Miki's voice called out, pulling Akane's attention. The third- year waved her over, her expression warm and welcoming.
Akane nodded and stepped forward, her grip on her bag tightening. 'It's okay, she told herself. This is just the beginning.'
The gymnasium door creaked open again, and a woman stepped in, clipboard in hand. Her presence immediately drew attention.
She was tall, with long dark hair tied back in a low ponytail, and there was something striking about her appearance.
The new members exchanged curious glances.
The woman seemed to notice, pausing at the center of the gym and clearing her throat. "I can see you're wondering," she said, her voice firm but with a hint of humor.
"My name is Ayaka Fujimoto, and I'm the coach of the volleyball club. To answer the question inside your heads, I'm half British. But that doesn't matter. What matters," she said, her tone sharpening, "is all of you."
She glanced down at her clipboard, her eyes scanning the list. "Let's see who we have."
The boys straightened as she began roll call.
"Ken Fuji," she called.
"Here," Ken replied, his voice steady.
"Ryota Takahashi."
"Here," said a boy with messy black hair and a wide grin.
"Hiroki Sato."
"Present," came a voice from a boy with glasses and a slightly nervous expression.
"Daichi Nakamura."
"Here," replied a tall, broad-shouldered boy who looked as though he could be Keisuke's younger brother.
"Kaito Tanaka."
"Here," said a lean boy with spiky hair, nodding.
"Shota Yamamoto."
"Present," said a boy with a relaxed demeanor, his hands stuffed into his pockets.
Coach Fujimoto moved to the next name on the list, her expression unreadable. "Akane Hayashi."
"Here!" Akane said quickly, raising her hand.
The coach's eyes flicked up from the clipboard, her frown barely noticeable. But Akane caught it—just a fleeting moment of disappointment before it vanished. Fujimoto nodded, making a note on her clipboard.
"Well, it's a good start," the coach said, her tone brisk. "All right, everyone, take a few minutes to introduce yourselves to each other and get warmed up. Practice starts in ten."
Akane glanced around, watching as the boys began to form small groups. She hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, determined to make the most of this opportunity.
Akane took a step forward, determination shining in her eyes, but she didn't expect Ken to meet her halfway. His approach was calm, and a few senior boys followed him, their curiosity about the only new girl apparent.
"We haven't met properly, Hayashi-san. I'm Ken Fuji," he said, his voice steady but polite, offering her a slight nod. "What's your position?"
Akane blinked in surprise before replying, "Middle blocker."
Ken's sharp eyes softened a bit, and he gave a small nod of approval. "That's good. Your height must come in handy."
Before Akane could respond, one of the senior boys leaned in, grinning. "Middle blocker, huh? Bet you're good at spiking too. What's your vertical like?"
Another boy chimed in, "What school did you come from? Did you guys usually train year-round?"
The questions came at her in quick succession, making her feel both flattered and slightly overwhelmed. Then, a second-year boy with a mischievous glint in his eye stepped forward.
"Hey, Hayashi, right? Haruki Suzuki." he said, leaning casually against a bench. "You free after practice? Maybe I could show you around the school or something."
Akane blinked, her mouth opening slightly in surprise. She was just about to politely decline when a heavy arm draped over Haruki's shoulders.
"Don't listen to this guy," Keisuke said with a wide grin, his other hand gesturing toward Haruki like he was presenting a troublemaker. "He hits on every girl he meets."
Haruki whipped his head around, his face turning red. "I do not! Don't make stuff up, senpai!"
"Oh, he does," came Miki's voice as she walked over to the group, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. "Trust me, I can vouch for it. This idiot can't resist trying his luck."
Keisuke laughed and gave Haruki a playful shove. "He's also one of the few people who's been unlucky enough to get hit by Miki."
Haruki groaned dramatically, covering his face with his hands. "It was one time! And I barely deserved it!"
"Sure, keep telling yourself that," Miki said, smirking. She then turned to Akane. "Don't let this guy bother you. He's harmless—just a little too friendly for his own good."
Akane couldn't help but smile, the teasing banter easing her nerves. She glanced at Ken, who watched the scene with a faintly amused expression but didn't comment.
"Thanks," she said softly, appreciating the camaraderie she was already witnessing among the team.
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Once again, thank you everyone for your continued support and power stones. And as always, please give me your power stones and comment your opinions. They make a big difference and motivate me to write more.