[50] Grade 1: National Sports Conference
Gong You swaggered out of the bathroom, his hands still dripping wet from washing, and found his brother sitting cross-legged on the living room sofa, staring intently at the TV screen.
"Zhu Zhi, what are you looking at so intently?" Gong You kicked Gong Zhi's shin and casually picked up an apple from the coffee table to eat.
Gong Zhi didn't turn his head, but simply pointed to the television: "Watching your future enemy."
"Huh?" Gong You almost choked on the apple. He took a few steps to the TV and then noticed the words "National Sports Games Volleyball Competition Finals" scrolling at the bottom of the screen.
The camera then cuts perfectly to a close-up shot of the sidelines of the field—
The golden-eyed boy on the screen seemed to realize that the camera was pointed at him. His originally lowered eyelashes slowly lifted, like a lazy bird startled by a sudden sound, and he lazily glanced at everyone from the tree branch.
The soft light from the overhead lamp shone on his smooth profile, casting a faint shadow beside his straight nose.
Golden pupils shimmered with a honey-like luster under the refraction of light, and the slightly upturned corners of their eyes carried an innate air of humility.
The low-resolution screen did not diminish the beauty of the image; instead, it added a hazy texture to the picture, making his delicate features even more dreamlike.
That one glance startled Ms. Gong, who was carrying a fruit platter through the living room, so much that she took two steps back.
"Oh my god—"
Her wide eyes reflected the frozen image on the screen—the boy's casual glance, which seemed to pierce through everything and go straight into her eyes.
Ms. Gong placed the fruit plate on the coffee table and moved closer to Gong You.
Her voice trembled slightly with excitement: "Which TV series is this new actress from? How can there be such a beautiful child?"
Miyaji: "..."
Gong You: "..."
“Mom,” Miyaji sighed helplessly, “this is a volleyball match broadcast on the sports channel.”
"Huh?" Ms. Gong blinked in surprise. "Such a delicate child is also a volleyball player?"
—Isn't he an actor?
The boy on the television had already looked away, but that fleeting glimpse was deeply imprinted on Ms. Gong's heart like a brand.
Ms. Gong could even feel her own accelerated heartbeat continuously pounding in her eardrums—an almost instinctive shock at the ultimate beauty.
"It's too perfect..."
Ms. Gong, a seasoned editor of an aesthetics magazine, murmured to herself, her professional instincts leading her to instinctively begin analyzing this beauty—
The child's features blended the cool innocence of youth with the ethereal grace of an elf, every curve seemingly sculpted according to the golden ratio.
Especially the natural touch of red at the corners of his eyes, which was the perfect finishing touch on the child's face, making him look like a spirit that had broken free from the seal of an ancient Tang Dynasty painting.
So this person really isn't a TV drama actor?!
This kid is definitely going to be a huge star if he enters the entertainment industry!!!
The scene switched back to the main event, and the handsome young man returned to the arena.
Ms. Gong looked away with a hint of regret. She turned to look at her two sons, her eyes instantly filled with disappointment.
Although the Miya twins are indeed strikingly handsome—this is due to their excellent genes inherited from her.
But compared to the handsome young man on screen who seemed to have stepped right out of a TV drama, he just didn't seem to have the same appeal.
My son is handsome and sunny, while that child has an androgynous beauty.
—That child just now is the type of child she admires most in terms of aesthetics.
"Mom? Why are you suddenly looking at us with such disdain?" Gong Zhi keenly noticed his mother's gaze.
Ms. Gong sighed deeply: "I was thinking, if only you had even a third of that child's refined elegance..."
"Huh?" Gong You, who had been influenced by his mother's aesthetics for many years, rolled his eyes speechlessly.
Ms. Gong was already immersed in her own world: "This kind of dreamlike beautiful boy, who is one in a hundred years and can make people instantly understand 'beauty is justice'..."
The twins looked at each other and simultaneously made a vomiting face.
Ms. Gong continued to immerse herself in her professional-level aesthetic analysis: "You are sunflowers in the height of summer, while that child is an udumbara flower under the moonlight..."
Gong You suddenly elbowed Gong Zhi, his eyes conveying a clear condemnation—
It's all your fault for starting this up.
Now look what's happened, it's started again.
"stop!"
Sensing that Ms. Gong was about to launch into a long, rambling monologue, Gong You couldn't bear it any longer and quickly covered his ears to interrupt her.
"Ms. Gong, could you please stop focusing on these things?"
Before he could finish speaking, his peripheral vision was suddenly drawn to the competition footage.
Gong You unconsciously squatted down and moved closer to the screen.
In the video, Imadegawa delivers a short, quick smash from an extremely tricky angle, allowing the attacker to complete a perfect spike with almost no adjustment to his footwork.
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Gong You's pupils contracted slightly—
“Hey, Osamu,” Miyako’s voice turned serious, “his ball control…”
“Ah,” Miyaji nodded, his eyes sharpening, “It requires almost no adaptation from the attackers.”
Ms. Gong looked at her two sons, who had become serious, and shook her head helplessly: "Honestly, they only care about volleyball..."
After reluctantly glancing at the handsome young man's name, Madam Gong picked up the fruit plate again and turned to walk towards her study, muttering to herself, "He's so good-looking, he'd be perfect as an actor..."
Meanwhile, the twins were completely absorbed in the game, and Miyako even unconsciously began to imitate Imadegawa's passing gestures.
“How interesting…” Gong You narrowed his eyes, the cold light from the TV screen reflecting in his fox-like gaze. “Even though he’s not playing with teammates from the same school, he can still achieve such perfect teamwork…”
Gong Zhi crossed his arms and leaned back lazily on the sofa: "After all, this is the National Sports Federation, and the country's top athletes are all here."
The National Sports Festival is a dream competition held on a national stage, where the best athletes selected from all high schools within each prefecture form regional representative teams.
The National Sports Games held in the fall, along with the National High School Sports Games (IH) in the summer and the National High School Volleyball Championship (Chunko) in the winter, are known as the three major national high school volleyball tournaments, representing the highest level of high school volleyball in the country.
Below these three major tournaments, there are secondary national-level events such as the Spring Rookie Tournament. In addition to these tournaments, there are other events such as the Sakura Ranking, Black Eagle Flag Kanto Tournament, etc., which will not be listed in detail here.
For top schools aiming for national recognition, the most valued prizes are the three national competition trophies that symbolize the highest honor.
The final match ended very quickly.
After the commentators announced that the Kyoto region had won, Miyau, who had been squatting in front of the television, straightened up again.
"This year's national youth team training camp in high school..."
His round pupils suddenly contracted, flashing with a sharp, excited light. "This guy must have been selected, right?"
Gong Zhi lowered his arm: "IH's best setter of the first year couldn't possibly not be selected, right?"
Gong You clicked his tongue.
He complained somewhat irritably, "With the ability to win the national best setter award in his first year, why didn't he play in matches when he was in junior high school?!"
"I heard their school is old-fashioned and doesn't recruit students from outside the school. So the students they invite are probably from old-fashioned families with a lot of rules," Gong Zhi said slowly. "You know those old-fashioned families, they think sports competitions are a waste of time and they would never let their children participate."
As Miyaji said, old-fashioned Kyoto people value education and tradition most, and in their eyes, playing volleyball is probably not even half as important as the tea ceremony. They would rather have their children memorize "Ogura Hyakunin Isshu" than allow them to spend time on sports.
The reason why Tsurumeikan was able to attract the attention of Kyoto residents with volleyball was also based on the hints that the little chubby bird had given them at the beginning.
It gave Kyoto residents a vague idea—that Tsurumikan was a mysterious, long-established aristocratic academy that suited their tastes, with a rigorous academic atmosphere and deep-rooted traditions. Old-school Kyoto residents appreciated its heritage, while the younger generation was attracted by its understated elitist atmosphere.
But ultimately, regardless of whether they are old-school or new-school, they still have the deep-rooted admiration for strength unique to island nations.
Besides psychological suggestion, Tsurumeikan also proved to them that it was strong enough—with absolute strength and talented players, it gradually made a name for itself throughout the country, and finally successfully established a great reputation in Kyoto.
Tsurumeikan is able to attract the attention of Kyoto residents with its volleyball.
"How incredibly feudal!" Gong You tossed the apple, now only cored, into the trash can with a "thud." "This kind of setter has been buried by this outdated school for three years—I really want to rush to Kyoto right now and have a match with him!"
Even before he could go to school next year, he was already getting restless.
"Next year," the fox cub licked his slightly dry lips, a fierce fighting spirit burning in his brown eyes, "we must meet this guy."
——————
"Your Crane Cry Pavilion... really is a place that produces 'miracles'."
Tachibana Yamazaki, the ace player, looked up, his gaze passing through layers of flashing lights, through the bustling crowd, through the brightly lit volleyball court, and landing on the towering dome of the venue chosen for the National Sports Festival.
His voice was soft, yet it carried an indescribable complexity of emotions.
"After winning the IH National Championship, they've now joined us in representing Kyoto at the National Sports Championship, where they've once again reached the top..."
Yamazaki Tachibana paused, then suddenly laughed, "It's like a dream."
His gaze returned to the boys in front of him: the Tsurumeikan setter who could see through their tactics after a brief collaboration with Yamazaki Tachibana, and his teammates whose teamwork was frighteningly seamless...
Yamazaki Tachibana Ace's thoughts drifted for a moment.
—How exactly did a group like the Crane Cry Pavilion come together?
At this moment, a strange premonition welled up in his heart:
Kyoto's high school volleyball scene is likely to be completely shrouded in this inscrutable and elusive atmosphere. Like the calm surface of the sea before a storm, undercurrents surge beneath the surface.
The existence of Tsurumeikan will be a persistent dark cloud hanging over all the top volleyball schools in Kyoto.
Powerful, silent, and unshakeable.
"Hey—" He turned to look at Imadegawa beside him and said half-jokingly, "Next time we meet, you'd better go easy on me."
Jin Chuchuan smiled slightly, his clear golden eyes revealing no emotion.
"No, Crane Cry Pavilion will do its utmost."
Yamazaki Tachibana, the ace, paused for a moment, then burst into laughter.
As expected... what a terrifying guy.
————————
(Patting the little ones' paws frantically) My babies have been so busy this week, I still have to finish a report tonight, I'll have to reply to the comments tomorrow! (pounding the ground)
I won't go into detail about this year's national sports event; I only showed a portion from Gong Shuang's perspective. See what inspiration comes next year! ww
Next up is the Inarisaki practice match—
The note is still short, but I can't think of anything else, so I'll stop here.
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