When 0.2 seconds became the most moving love confession
In Karasuno High's volleyball gym, two boys' history of battles is etched into the sweat-damp floor.
Kageyama Tobio, the precise, machine-like "King of the Court," measures his partner's progress in increments of 0.2 seconds. Hinata Shoyo, the ever-burning "Little Sun," ignites the opponents' defense with every diving save.
When a blue whale on a bandage swims into the darkness of the changing room, when the strange taste of a protein bar mingles with the midday sunshine on the rooftop, when the ribs of an umbrella carve out a tiny world in the pouring rain, those measurements blurred by sweat will eventually trace a path more burning than victory or defeat.
From the first moment their hearts raced out of control in the gym to the back-turned, off-tempo set at the Dome finals; from silent companionship on a night train to a vow fulfilled at the decisive moment, even with a torn ligament. This is a dance for two about growing up. Within an error of 0.03 seconds lie all the secrets of two hearts beating in sync.
"If you can't receive my set next time, you'll be doing a hundred extra reps."
"Idiot King... I've received every one of your sets."
