When the third years retire from the club, Kirihara has to deal with taking over.
It was an obvious truth that few, if any, of them could become what Yukimura or Sanada or Yanagi was. Akaya nodded, and raised his voice. “It doesn’t matter. What we are is Rikkai. We will win.”
Yukimura, a bit troubled over Kirihara, talks first with Tezuka and then with Suzuoki.
“You don’t care, do you?” he asked, reaching up to touch a branch. “Not that you’re growing on volcanic rock, not that it’s winter. You just keep growing.” He sighed and smiled, a little crookedly, at the tree.
Kirihara deals with a stressful practice and finally snaps. In a good way.
Akaya tried to unclench his teeth before he gave himself a headache. “Both of you be quiet,” he growled.
Tournament season starts, and Kirihara gets a present from his coach.
Akaya turned a glower on Suzuoki, silently demanding to know what he was up to this time. Suzuoki smirked at him. “You got to play exactly once this weekend and last. You should unwind a little. Besides, you could use an actual challenge.”
Kirihara’s second spin through Regionals, and Nationals, as a captain this time.
The pace of what Akaya couldn’t help but think of as the real tournament season had two very different parts. There was the daily practice with his team, which, while demanding and sometimes intense, had a smooth swoop to it. And then there were the actual tournament matches, that sprinted along like a heartbeat after an adrenaline spike.
The new year begins and Kirihara suffers a bit of culture clash.
“What are you doing here?” Akaya exclaimed, wide eyed.
Suzuoki blew a stream of smoke at him. “The coaches drew straws to see who would stay with each division this year. I got the short one.”