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Chapter 418: Team USA
🕑 Added 2025-05-02 16:44:10 +0000 UTCAt Tokyo International Airport, a plane carrying the United States Boys' High School Volleyball Representative Team slowly touched down on the runway.
Before long, the cabin door opened, and the first to step out was outside hitter Taylor Sander, whose tall, 196cm frame stood out strikingly in the sunlight.
"So tall!"
Nearby tourists instinctively slowed their pace, casting sidelong glances toward the towering figure.
"Foreigner? Movie star? Athlete?"
Taylor Sander's deep-set eyes scanned his surroundings swiftly, a flicker of curiosity shining within them—like someone newly arrived in a foreign land.
Next came two middle blockers: Jeff Jendryk, 208cm tall, and Max Holt, 205cm. They walked side by side, resembling two mobile towers.
"Oh my god, Kyoko, look!"
Not far away, a girl with her hair tied in a ponytail gasped, her eyes lighting up as she gently tugged the sleeve of her companion.
Max Holt glanced in the direction of the voice and offered a friendly smile. The girl hurriedly covered her mouth with her hand, perhaps to hide her embarrassment, though her eyes brimmed with excitement and curiosity.
"Have you found the liaison from the Japan side yet?" asked Karch Kiraly.
At 64 years old, with white hair and a dignified presence, the head coach of the U.S. boys' volleyball team exuded an air of quiet authority.
Meanwhile, outside hitter Aaron Russell stood motionless after disembarking, gazing up at the sky, seemingly trying to sense the difference between this foreign sky and the one back home.
"Coach, don't be so impatient. Didn't we agree we'd have the day off today?"
Striding forward with ease was Matt Anderson, their 210cm-tall opposite. Even among this tall group, he stood out clearly. His cropped hair swayed slightly with each step, and he carried a gym bag stuffed with his favourite wristbands and other gear, giving off a laid-back, efficient vibe.
Setter Micah Christenson followed casually behind, tapping notes into his phone as he walked.
The remaining team members filed out one by one, each dragging their suitcase behind them. The rolling wheels hissed softly against the floor, blending with their low-pitched conversations in English. They moved through the bustling arrival hall, surrounded by Japanese signs and people speaking Japanese—a novelty that drew their quiet attention.
When they reached the pickup area, a busy, lively scene greeted them. Large chandeliers on the pristine white ceiling cast warm, bright light across the spacious lobby, offering the American players a clear view of everything around them.
A staff member from the Japan Volleyball Association stood waiting, holding a sign that read:
"Welcome, U.S. Boys' Volleyball Team!"
"Are these guys really high schoolers?"
Some of the younger Japanese staff couldn't help but wonder as the towering American players approached.
The U.S. team had 14 players in total—six of them over 2 meters tall. The only one shorter than 190cm was their libero, Erik Shoji (184cm).
Daisaku Hayami, head of the JVA's international liaison division, wore a grim expression. He knew these young Japanese staffers had no idea what they were really dealing with.
On paper, this was a Japan-U.S. exchange match between high school students.
In reality, every single player from the American team was already active in the professional circuit. The only real commonality between them and their Japanese counterparts…might be age.
The two teams met, shook hands warmly, exchanged polite greetings, and then made their way to the parking lot, heading for the hotel where the U.S. team would stay during their time in Japan.
Outside the window, the nighttime scenery flickered past like a slideshow. The players sat quietly, watching the view.
Truth be told, few of them actually cared about the upcoming exchange match.
"This is just a relaxing vacation."
At least for now, that's what most of them believed.
Compared to the match one week away, what they looked forward to more was sightseeing and soaking in the foreign atmosphere.
"Micah, what are you looking at?" Taylor Sander asked.
"This." Micah Christenson turned his phone screen toward him. "Looks like Japan just finished its national high school volleyball tournament. Most of our opponents are gonna be players from that event."
"Hah, still as cautious as ever," Sander teased. "So tell me—anyone who might actually be a threat to us?"
"Nope," Christenson answered bluntly.
"Thought so," Sander said with zero surprise. "What fun is there in playing house with a bunch of kids?"
"Well, there are two interesting players," Christenson said, pausing the video on one frame. "There's this tiny guy—looks around 170cm. And he's the team's ace."
"Pffft—HAHAHAHA!!"
"How much?"
"170cm? You serious?"
"He's the ace? A shrimp like that plays volleyball?"
The ridiculous notion drew Aaron Russell (207cm) and middle blocker Taylor Averill (201cm) into the conversation.
Unlike the others, Christenson didn't react dramatically. He simply stated, "He's got solid technique. Judging by his performance, there's nothing particularly laughable about him being the team's ace."
"Yeah, that happens in school tournaments," Russell shrugged. "But once you go pro, those guys disappear."
"170cm, even shorter than Erik…" Averill gestured exaggeratedly with his hand. "If he's really skilled, maybe he could become a libero someday."
Christenson only shrugged in response, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
"And what about the other guy? Another shorty?"
"Not exactly. The other one was the MVP of Japan's national tournament. I looked him up—he's 190cm, same height as Ethan. His stats and play style are pretty similar, too."
Sander nodded. "If he's on par with Ethan, then getting MVP at some kiddie campus league makes sense."
Christenson scrubbed the video to the end, where it was almost all close-up shots of Taichi Kaedehara, the background filled with cries of "Japan's No.1!"
"What'd this kid do?" Russell asked, visibly intrigued. He loved the spotlight—if he'd known about this kind of hype, maybe he would've transferred to a Japanese school a year earlier.
"That's what makes him kind of interesting," Christenson said with a small smile. "He scored 20 points by himself in the final set of the championship."
"20 points?!" Russell shouted, startled. But he quickly regained his composure.
"Well, it's Japan, right? If it were me, I wouldn't say 25, but I could grab at least 23 points."
"HAHAHA…"
The others burst into laughter at Russell's confident declaration.
"Guess we'll count on you during the exchange match," said Taylor Sander with a yawn. "Perfect. I could use a few days of extra rest."
"No problem!" Russell replied confidently.
"Micah, just set everything to me that day. What's his name again? That one guy you mentioned."
"Watch me score 20 points right over his head!"
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