In his first year, they went to Nationals, a glorious time in Karasuno's history. In his second, they did not even make the semi-finals. A new year began, and Tashiro Hidemi was chosen as the captain, and no one expected them to get much farther than the first round.
He was not the type to lament over circumstances, yet sometimes he could not help but resent the words emblazoned on the back of his jersey; "Karasuno Male Volleyball Team". If it could have been any other word but Karasuno!
Karasuno, who had gone to nationals. Karasuno, where the little giant had played. Karasuno, that strong, powerful school, soaring above the rest.
Karasuno was supposed to be a champion.
Although he wore the heavy weight of all these expectations gamely on his back, for all that, Tashiro Hidemi was no champion. He was not particularly tall, nor was he particularly skilled. This was a fact he was all too keenly aware of. On any other powerhouse team, he would not even make the reserves. It was not as if he was particularly bad, but he was not good either, rather, he was the kind of person who did not stand out one way or the other. In a word, mediocre. It was frustrating to him. No matter how hard he practised, no matter how hard he worked, no matter how much he improved as a player, it was as if he fundamentally lacked that essential spark needed to tip from the ordinary to extraordinary.
Yet when he closed his eyes, he could still recall those distant days, when they had really had been extraordinary. They gone to nationals, in his first year. There he had seen it with his own eyes, greatness, watching from the bleachers, far and distant, out of reach. It was something electrifying, extraordinary, wonderful to witness, in that instance, he was part of something bigger, something greater, something truly exceptional. The Little Giant, standing on the court. You could look at him and tell; he was a champion.
But he was gone now.
The third years, from that glorious era, also gone. Coach Ukai, retired.
And people whispered behind their backs, calling them "Flightless crows" and "Fallen champions".
But they were from Karasuno.
And he would show the world what they were made of.
They were champions, and they WOULD go to nationals!
At least that's what he said.
It was evening, after school.
The sound of volleyballs thudding, the squeak of rubber sneakers, against the wooden floor, echoed hollowly beneath the quiet drone of electric lights.
The volleyball curved upwards, hanging there, almost, for an instance, in the air, before tracing a leisurely path downwards. The student, next in line, in a flash of movement was in the air. The sound of contact, and the thud as it crashed into the opposing court. Again and again, a rhythmic beat, a symphony of effort.
"Good work everyone, keep it up!" said Tashiro as he watched, trying to encourage them as he watched them spike. He could tell they were tired. He was tired. He could tell by their side-long glances, the way they sighed before they ran up to spike the ball, their half-hearted hits, their anxious glances at the clock. Well, it was growing late.
And yet he found himself lingering.
Just one more.
If they practised long enough, if they practised hard enough, maybe somehow it would all click. It was coming now, any second, Tashiro was sure. The moment they would finally become good.
But it was too late now. They were tired. They were growing sloppy. It was better to let them go now, then keep them here against their will, to make them resent volleyball.
So after the next spiker had gone, Tashiro announced that practise was over, they were finished for the night. (You can't seriously expect them to play volleyball all day after all. There is still school work to done. But if you don't keep practising, how will you ever make it to nationals?)
A sense of relief washed over the crowd. It was as if a tightly wound string had at last become loose; they immediately became more relaxed, they laughed with each other and joked as they began to clean up.
Tashiro picked up a volleyball that was lying on the floor. Even with all this practise, he did not seem he were any better than before. His spikes were still weak, his serves and everything else as well. If he practised a little bit more, would he become better? Was there a magic amount of serves you had to do in order to master it? Imagine if that the number was 100, and going into the tournament, he had only done 99. Although would it really make a difference?
"Actually…," Tashiro announced, "I think I'll stay late tonight. Go home, I'll clean up."
And he added hopefully, "If anyone wants to join me…."
They hesitated, and Tashiro instantly regretted asking. Of course they didn't want to stay any longer, hadn't that already been established? Now they'd just feel guilty, leaving, inevitably, with a lingering feeling of shame. Mumbling an apology, one of the second years finally mustered his courage and left, unable to look Tashiro in the eye. And so, tactfully, he turned away from them, letting them leave without dishonouring themselves, as if what he could not see did not exist. Maybe this was something he had been doing for a long time. As if, by avoiding looking at them closely, they would become the same team which had gone to Nationals before, as if that team had not since long ago ceased to exist.
He sighed and stared looked at the empty court before him. The high nets which loomed over him like an insurmountable wall. The high pitched buzz of the electric lights droned in the background, echoing eerily in the vastness of the court, where he stood, all alone, and maybe he really was alone, maybe by now, they had all left. He found himself unable to look behind and check.
He wondered suddenly whether it was wrong of him to turn his back to his team. Shouldn't a captain stick by his teammates, no matter what? But to turn on them, to turn a blind eye to their own aspirations, wasn't that, on his end, to be considered a failure? But maybe it was sometimes necessary to turn your back on them, in order to lead them. Let's set our sights on Nationals! Point them in the right direction, inspire them. As if he could inspire them. Why was he even here?
The wooden floor was glossy and reflected the shrill light. Row upon row of boards, now silent, unsqueaked by shoes. Outside, evening was just beginning to creep over the sky. School was long over; its halls empty and dark. The salarymen would now be working their way home on a weary commute; students were at home, studying, playing video games; soon it would be time for supper, and families would gather together around the table and eat beneath the golden evening light as the sun leaked its way into the horizon. And he was here, standing alone, in an empty volleyball court.
The same court that the Little Giant had stood. If it had been him here, they would have stayed. That's the way he was; filled with a quiet intensity, so that when he played others couldn't help but watch, truly watch, and dream to be like him.
The sound of laughter.
"Asahi, wait for me!"
"Ah, sorry!"
He turned around, and the three first-years were there.
"You stayed!?" exclaimed Tashiro.
"You sound so surprised," said Kurokawa. Again, Tashiro turned. There was the tall third-year student, already with a volleyball in his hand, looking down at him with the usual unreadable expression on his face. So he had stayed too! He felt a rapid surge of gratitude swell up in him, and wondered why indeed, as Kurowaka rightly said, was he really so surprised. These first years, hadn't they already exceeded all expectations? And Kurokawa, he was their ace, it was to be expected. Maybe they really could make Nationals after all.
"Alright!" he exclaimed, smiling broadly, "Let's work hard!"
They practised long into the night.
A/N: Thanks for reading! I really enjoyed Daichi's flashback in the manga and I wanted to write something about Tashiro for a long time. I was a little annoyed that they took that scene out of the anime, but at least we finally got to see it last week's episode! I'm so happy! I think Tashiro's a really interesting character, but you hardly ever see anything about him! So I did my best to express my feeling towards him in this fic. There will be two more chapters to come! Please enjoy.