Shinrabansho: Myriad Souls

2.73: Gutsy Moves

We stepped outside hand in hand, the air immediately cooler than inside the gym, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the courtyard. The volleyball nets were up, white lines stark against the tamped down dirt, and a few players were moving through light drills. Their voices carried easily to where we were walking, their laughter mixed with the sharp clap of the ball smacking against palms.

Their activities hadn’t been scaled back much. If anything, they looked even more focused. Apparently some clubs weren’t prioritizing the cultural festival as much as we were.

Aoi-chan slowed when she saw them, her fingers tightening around mine just slightly.

That was when Shimizu-senpai noticed us.

She was easy to spot, as we apparently were, her captain’s armband snug around her upper arm, her posture relaxed but authoritative as always. She paused mid-conversation, her eyes tracking us as we approached, then raised a hand in greeting.

“Kurobane,” she called. “And… Shinohara. It’s good to see you again.”

I straightened reflexively.

She walked over, stopping a few steps away, her gaze sharp but not unkind. “You two done with rehearsing and working on sets?”

“For now,” Aoi-chan replied. “We were on the way to train behind the gym, but seeing you all, I wanted to check in.”

I looked at Aoi with a small smile.

She wants more than just to check in. Maybe she’s been feeling restless about having to focus so much on last minute repairs on the sets.

Shimizu-senpai hummed, considering us. Then she smiled, slow and thoughtful, probably reading Aoi’s mind like me. “Perfect timing!”

She glanced back at her team, then at Aoi-chan again. “How about a quick game to help you warm up? I’d like you to stay in shape.” She winked at Aoi.

“It’s okay. It’s not like I’ll get out of shape over skipping club activities now and again, and there’s only a few days left before the festival. My time off from club activities is school authorized and even enforced,” Aoi laughed.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t join us for a match or two sometimes in times like this when you’re free.” Her eyes turned to me. “Do you think you’re feeling more up to it than you were the last few times, Shinohara?”

My eyebrows shot up. “…You still want me to play with you? I thought I sucked?”

“I do.” She said without any hesitation, smiling. “You have the markings of an ace player. That body of yours doesn’t lie about your capabilities. It’s like having a second Kurobane.”

I gasped. “But I’m not anywhere near as fierce as she is in a fight.”

“A couple of my troublemaking classmates say otherwise.” She raised an eyebrow. “Iwabe and Koji have been muttering together, licking each other’s wounds ever since they showed up one morning trying to spread a sob story about what happened.”

“You know about that?” I blushed.

“We got it out of them. They even tried to imply they had some incriminating photos on you two, but I shut them down, telling them I’d go after them myself if they tried anything. I assume they caught you together and took some pictures. I frown on that kind of shady behavior.” Her eyes went flat.

“Thank you, captain,” Aoi said simply. “I guess I might have to kick their asses again if they still haven’t given up.”

“We’ll see about that.” Shimizu-senpai shrugged. “I won’t let them mess with my aces.”

Where’d she get that idea?! Me, really, an ace? But I barely know how to play!

My performance was incredibly terrible last time. My thoughts had been everywhere except the court with Aoi-chan’s gaze so icy whenever it landed on me, it sent chills up and down my spine and my stomach cramped. I just couldn’t maintain my composure like that. I’d completely fallen apart. Some ace player, me.

Aoi-chan answered calmly, without looking at me. “I spoke with senpai recently, Sumire-chan. I explained that your performance was my fault, not yours… and everyone understands.”

I blinked in amazement, my face warming.

You’d go that far when it’s not my club? Why? Does she think that I can replace her on the team when she… I chewed my lip thinking like that.

Shimizu-senpai nodded. “She told us, but we’d all figured it out even without that. The rumor mill’s been busy about you two. Anyone could look at you two and put things together even six weeks ago.”

Her eyes shifted to me, softer now. Assessing in a different way.

“You had a very rough breakup,” she said plainly. “It was obvious your head wasn’t in the game. Kurobane was sharp as ever at that time, but cold as winter even with us, and you couldn’t even glance at her without crumbling. It was painful to watch. I even tried putting you on opposite teams so you wouldn’t have to track her movements all the time, and that didn’t work out either. After a few attempts to include you when you couldn’t get it together, I informally benched you. It wasn’t a permanent dismissal or anything like that. I couldn’t blame you for feeling as you did. Kurobane is an amazing person. So I decided to give you some space to see what would happen.”

My chest tightened, but I nodded in acceptance. I failed because I didn’t focus like I should have. I was just flailing.

She folded her arms. “Now that that seems to be settled, I’m sure I’ll see your real game again. Show me what your training over the last three weeks has done to you.”

The court went quiet with anticipation.

Aoi-chan squeezed my hand once before letting go. “Just move the right way, relax, and watch everyone’s movements,” she murmured. “Watch the ball too. Think about the space around you tactically. Leave your emotions out of it.”

I nodded, taking that as sharp and honest criticism over my inability to control my emotions.

We took our places, and this time we were on the same team again. That always felt best. The few times I’d ended up across the net from Aoi-chan, her cold focus had unraveled me almost immediately. She hadn’t spared me either. If anything, she’d used my weakness to make her point. It felt like she hated me, and I couldn’t bear that. 

When I took a spot in the back, Shimizu-senpai barked, “Get in the front with Kurobane, Shinohara.”

I blushed, stiffened and nodded, my heart racing.

Three weeks ago, that position had terrified me deep down. I knew that if we were playing seriously and this was a real competitive game, there would be too many eyes on me. Everyone’s expectations were heavy enough. There were entirely too many ways to fail loudly.

Taking a deep breath, I planted my feet and breathed.

Shimizu-senpai blew her whistle.

The first rally came fast. The serve crossed high and deep, drifting wider than expected, and instead of reaching for it early, I tracked its arc, shuffled back, then adjusted left as it began to drop. I stayed low and passed the ball cleanly toward the target at midcourt to keep the play alive.

When the set came, it was a little wide. I didn’t rush it, adjusting my approach, shortening my last step, and waited just a fraction longer than before so my timing matched the ball’s speed instead of getting overeager.

Then I jumped.

I caught the ball cleanly at full extension. In the instant before contact, I saw the block closing, so I turned my hand and sent the ball past the outside hands and down into the deep corner with pace.

Someone shouted.

We reset.

The next exchange was faster and messier. A sharp serve forced a scramble, and when I went up to block I was late, brushing the ball with my fingertips instead of sealing it. I landed, turned at once, tracked the deflection, and kept alive in the play so I could cover the next touch on our side.

Aoi-chan’s voice cut through the noise, steady and precise. “Again.”

We moved together.

This time, when she set, I was already on my approach. My steps matched her timing, and I didn’t reach or swing off-balance. I hit the ball cleanly, snapping it down the line.

The ball landed just inside the sideline.

“In!” someone yelled.

I landed with my knees bending easily, taking the impact through my legs. My breathing came hard, and my heart was pounding, not with nerves, but with focus and momentum.

A ball ricocheted off my hands and skipped behind me, and I spun so fast my shoes squealed against the floor. For a second I was chasing it blind, my shoulders twisted, half a step late. Then I found it again, lunged, and got my forearms under it just before it dropped, sending it back up in a crooked but usable arc. Someone on our side called for it. 

The rally was alive. By the time I pushed back to my feet, my pulse was hammering in my ears, but I was already moving to the next spot instead of freezing over the mistake I’d made.

On the next point, the set drifted too tight to the net for a clean swing. I saw the hands waiting for me and changed my mind in the air, softening my touch at the last instant and letting the ball slip over them into the open space behind.

It wasn’t a flashy move but was effective. A few rallies later I had to turn and cover after a teammate’s hit came straight back at us, and this time I was there in time, dropping low, popping the ball up, then rising again with a grin already tugging at my mouth before I knew it was there. 

Although I wasn’t playing perfectly, I was sweating, breathing hard, sometimes arriving a step off and fixing it on the fly. But the longer we played, the less room there was in my head for anything except the ball, the court, and the next time I’d get to touch it.

Somewhere in the middle of it, I realized I was having fun. Volleyball was really fun! It made me want to move faster and speed up my thinking, and when the whistle finally cut through the gym, I was smiling the whole time, letting everything else go.

Maybe I was starting to see the world a little more like Aoi-chan did. Before, I had only ever looked up at the tower. Now it felt like I was standing at the top of it, seeing how everything opened beneath me.

Shimizu-senpai beamed from the sidelines, clapping her hands sharply.

And still, I wasn’t unfocused.

I could see the court clearly. I could tell where everyone was before I even turned my head, the spacing between us as clear as the painted lines beneath my feet. That could come in handy if I ever had to fight more than two people at once.

Once, Aoi-chan and I synced so cleanly it felt like sparring. Her set rose straight into the window of my approach, and I met it in stride.

We won by a narrow margin.

When the whistle ended it, I bent forward with my hands on my knees, breathing hard. Sweat clung to my skin, and my legs burned in a way that was deeply satisfying.

Shimizu-senpai walked over, still grinning.

“Even though I wouldn’t say that your game is as polished as Kurobane’s,” she said, “you’re a very steady player, just like I hoped. No more micro-hesitations.” Her lips quirked up in the corners.

I straightened and bowed deeply from the bottom of my heart. “Thank you for letting me play with you again.”

She studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Obviously, after that performance, I’m reinstating you as a reserve… if you don’t mind.”

My head snapped up.

“I wish I could use you in official matches too,” she added, groaning dramatically. “Your sense for space is rare.”

“I’m sorry I can’t spare the time right now,” I said quickly, bowing again. “But… Thank you, senpai. I really mean it. It’s fun to play with you all.”

She laughed. “Careful. You’re making this even harder.”

I hesitated, then smiled shyly. “Maybe I’ll join… once I’ve surpassed Aoi-chan.”

There was a brief silence.

Then Shimizu-senpai laughed outright. “Gutsy!!!” She tilted her head. “Do you think you can?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Aoi-chan answered for me, her voice quiet and certain. “She will. There were already things she could do from the start that I couldn’t. Sumire-chan’s built to fight.”

Shimizu-senpai looked between us, then nodded once. “I’ll look forward to that day. Come right away when it happens.”

She bowed to me… she actually bowed.

Her team clapped lightly, a few voices calling out welcomes that came too early and all at once.

My face burned.

I bowed again, and then again to everyone.

Aoi-chan turned away, pressing her lips together. She wiped quickly at the corner of her eye, like she hoped no one would notice.

“Let’s go, my princess,” she said softly.

She took my hand and led me toward the back of the gymnasium, away from the nets and the noise, toward where our real training waited.

I followed her.

Playing volleyball had been the perfect way to warm up.

The space behind the gymnasium was quieter than the courts out front, tucked away where the concrete gave way to packed dirt and a strip of grass worn thin by months of our after-school training. The building blocked most of the wind today, leaving the air warm and close, carrying the faint smell of sawdust, paint, greasy food frying, sun-heated concrete, metal, and our own sweat.

Aoi-chan stopped near the gym’s wall and set her bag down on the block of concrete. I did the same, rolling my shoulders once and letting my body settle.

She turned to face me. Her expression had already changed, focused now, with all softness gone from it. This was not a rehearsal, nor was it a game.

“You did well in that game,” she said, her eyes passing over my stance. “Let’s see how well it warmed you up.”

“I don’t feel tired yet,” I said lightly, stretching the parts of my body that playing volleyball had not exercised. My legs still carried a good ache and my breathing was deep and even.

“That’s because you didn’t waste any movement,” she said. “You did what you needed to do and nothing extra. Conservation of energy is very important both in fighting and sports.”

She stepped closer. I could feel the heat coming off her. Her hand settled on my forearm, and she turned it a few degrees.

“It’s the same idea,” she said. “You saw the opening and you trusted your timing.”

I nodded. “Yeah. I saw where there was an opening, and it got strangely easy to send the ball where I wanted it.”

Aoi-chan’s mouth lifted a little. “Martial arts is about precision. Sparring sharpens your awareness. That applies to more than fighting.”

Then she stepped back and raised her hands.

“Enough talking. Come at me.”

I shifted from stretching into my fighting stance and struck.

Her forearm snapped up and knocked my arm off line before I could finish the motion. The impact ran through my shoulder and down into my chest. I turned with it, stepped through, and came back with my other side instead of jerking away.

“Good,” she said. “Again.”

I went again. She met my next strike with her palm, shoved it past her shoulder, and swept low at my legs. I hopped back, my heel skidding in the dirt, and her other hand was already coming at my face. I saw the feint before I bit on it and stayed where I was. The real strike came lower. I caught it on my forearm, let it glance off, and cut in at her ribs.

She shifted just enough to take it off target. Her elbow clipped my shoulder on the return and it stung. I turned with it to mitigate and stepped back in before the space between us could open.

Aoi-chan’s eyes sharpened.

“That,” she said, her voice low, “was right.”

We circled.

Sweat slid down my spine, and my gym shirt clung to me, but my feet stayed under me. The dirt back here gave less than the rooftop. My shoes dug in, slipped, then caught again. If I set a step wrong, I felt it at once. Even the smallest mistake cost me.

She came in fast and caught my wrist. Pain shot up my arm when she twisted, but I did not yank against it. I rolled my shoulder, turned with her grip, and slipped out with a half turn that left us back to back for an instant.

I turned at once and struck.

She caught the blow on her forearm, snapped a short counter at my jaw, then drove forward with another before I had fully settled. I gave ground twice, my heels cutting through the dirt and kicking up dust behind me. My chest tightened as I pulled one breath in, let it out, and stepped back at her.

The fence rattled on the far side of the building. Voices passed us, slowed, then moved on again. I did not look at them and neither did she.

Aoi-chan caught me as I came in too long. She stepped across me, turned her hip in, and pulled. My feet left the ground.

I hit the ground on my side, rolled over one shoulder, and came back up into a crouch. Dirt stuck to my palms and side. My knees complained when I rose.

“Again,” she said.

I drove in before she had fully reset. My hand cut toward her face, then dropped. She shifted to cover high, and I changed my attack’s trajectory. This time I made her move first. It was only a step, only a fraction. But I saw it.

Her smile flashed, sharp and pleased.

“There you are, my warrior princess,” she said.

Heat rushed into my face. My chest tightened for one stupid beat.

That was all she needed.

She came at me all the harder.

Her hand smacked my thigh. My leg buckled, and I caught myself before the knee came down in the dirt. She stepped in at once, trying to run me over before I had my balance back. I gave one step, then another, keeping my feet under me, and turned her next strike off my center with my forearm. She pulled back and I followed just enough to stay on her.

Then I misread her timing.

Her fist drove into my ribs and knocked the air out of me. My mouth opened, but no breath came with it. I stepped to the side, dragging air back into my chest, fixing my stance, and went back in before the pain could set in and slow me down.

She stopped with one hand raised.

I stopped too, my muscles tight and ready.

She watched me for a long moment.

“You didn’t look for me,” she said. “You didn’t wait.”

I swallowed, still breathing hard. “No need to.”

Her face eased a little.

“Good,” she said. “That’s where you need to be.”

She stepped in and touched my wrist again. Her fingers stayed there for a moment.

“You’re past breakaways now,” she said quietly. “You’re really learning to fight.”

I held her gaze and nodded. My chest was still heaving. Sweat ran down past my collarbone. My arm still ached where she had twisted it and my ribs and my thigh hurt. None of that hit me squarely. I felt steady.

She let go, stepped back, rolled her shoulders once, and set her feet.

“Last round,” she said. “All in.”

I nodded and set myself.

Then we moved.

She struck first. I caught her arm, pushed it off line, and stepped outside it. Her elbow came right after. I slipped past that too and stepped in on her. She drove her shoulder into me, but I turned with the hit instead of letting it stop me. I answered with a short strike to her side. She slapped it aside. I tried to stay on her, but she shifted across me and cut me off before I could get back in. I shifted with her and stayed in front of her.

She tried to drive me back. I stepped across and made her turn. Her hand shot for my arm. I let her catch it for half a beat, then twisted before she could clamp down. Her foot hooked in for a sweep. I took the weight off that leg, let her miss, and hit back hard enough to bring both her hands up.

We broke apart and closed again.

This time, when she tried to bait me in, I did not follow. I planted and made her close the distance. The instant she committed to the step, I saw it in her body. Her strike came right behind it but I was already moving. I knocked it aside, stepped in, and landed a clean touch before she could pull back. 

Her eyes widened a fraction.

We went again.

Her hand caught my arm. I twisted free before her grip set. I aimed high, changed low, then stepped across her center when she moved to answer. She checked me with her forearm. I felt the jolt run through both of us. We separated, met again, and neither of us wasted a step.

By then I was not trying to keep up with her anymore. I was watching the turn of her shoulders, the shift of her hips, the hand that moved first. Not perfectly, and not every time, but enough. I was getting closer.

“That’s enough.”

The tension in me broke and I straightened slowly, brushing dirt and bits of grass from my gym shorts. My breathing was rough but even, my hands shaking a bit, but they went still.

Aoi-chan walked over and stopped in front of me.

“You’re different, Sumire,” she said. “Not just stronger.”

I looked up at her, my sweat cooling my body, but my face still felt hot.

“It’s because of you, Aoi-chan,” I said. “Please keep teaching me. I want to surpass you.”

Aoi-chan smiled softly at me, a smile filled with pride.

“Then let’s keep going just like this,” she said. “Every day we have left.”

I nodded.

“Yes!”