PROLOGUE # BEFORE THE NIGHT

━━ THE CROWN SLIPS INTO THE REALM OF DREAMS.

Ushijima is tired.

He runs long digits through his hair, shaking off the sweat droplets that dampen his the brown strands.

"Alright, see you at practice tomorrow morning, Waka-kun." Tendo Satori, a lanky male with red hair throws up a piece sign towards him, and Ushijima can only nod stiffly back as his friend hums cheerfully while walking away.

Everyone has left, except for the coach who simply orders him to collect any remaining volleyballs lying around. The tall male nods in reply, his stoic face never slipping despite how much his muscle aches and how heavy his eyelids feel. Ushijima Wakatoshi is the miracle boy, the ace of Shiratorizawa. A simple volleyball training should be nothing compared to the sheer amount of work he puts in, combined with the talent that every person, without exception, marvels out. He brushes his weariness off, chalking it down to lack of sleep.

Ushijima finishes packing up before draping a sweat towel around his broad shoulders. The lights turn off as he leaves, locking the gym and pocketing the key- a spare one the coach gave him, and considering that he is the miracle boy, and he is the ace of a powerhouse school, it is only expected that he fits in extra practice before training officially begins. He doesn't complain. Working hard is the only reason why his talent blooms so spectacularly.

The brown haired boy finds himself jogging back home, the darkening skies draping around his shoulders with the towel that he occasionally rubs against his face. The night provides a soothing balm on the purple bruises decorating his arms.

It doesn't take him too long to reach his home, a traditional-styled household with sliding doors and a paper screens.

"I'm home," he announces as he takes off his shoes. The silence that greets Ushijima doesn't surprise him; his mother is probably away again, and his father has been living overseas ever since the divorce. He dumps his gear near his shoes

He doesn't feel like eating, but an athlete like him can't afford to skip a meal. So he forces himself to prepare a meal and scoffs it down half-heartedly without properly tasting anything. Ushijima washes the dishes and commences his nightly routine of showering, homework before heading out to the garden to practice volleyball again. Just like every other day, as the clock strikes midnight, he heads to the bathroom to wash up. Ten minutes of checking his phone, plugging it, before preparing his bed.

It's mundane. He can't envision of any other normal life that doesn't hold a semblance to his own, but that emptiness holed up in his soul begins to grow bigger every night. Still, he pushes through. Routine is key to a stable life. He should be grateful to live a safe life, his future already planned out for him, and he doesn't need to worry about financial struggles or finding a place in society. As long as that drive to better himself in volleyball never fades, he will be okay.

Ushijima yawns as he climbs into bed, unsuspecting of the twist of events that will befall him in only a few seconds.

As soon as his head hits the pillow, one arm curling around a volleyball, he falls asleep -

- and wakes up in a place he's never been to.