In the gymnasium sitting on the corner of Jangchung Distrtict, the smell of sweat and salonpas fills the air. It’s the 76th annual national highschool volleyball championships in Seoul, and Magwi High has just beaten their first team of the season.

“Thanks, hyung.”

Beads of sweat slide down Sehun’s glossy temples as he grabs the bottle from Minseok’s outstretched arms. The manager shakes his head at their maknae, although a small smile still pulls at the corners of his mouth. They’ve all worked hard, and it’s because of all that effort that they’ve beaten their first team at nationals and are advancing on to the next round.

Gulping down the cool water almost desperately, Sehun reaches out to return Jongin’s sweaty fist bump, cocking his head slightly in question. As the official setter, Sehun’s the control tower of the entire team – his job is to decide which spiker to toss to, and which play to make. He needs to know how his every action will impact every other player, especially the one he passes to the most – their ace and captain, Kim Jongin.

Jongin’s still panting slightly after chugging down half his bottle, and even his knuckles are slick with sweat. As the ace spiker of their team, he goes into overdrive when it counts the most, slamming the ball down into the opponent’s side of the net. While his stamina is something to boast about, the amount of physical hell they go through during matches isn’t anything insignificant either.

Jongin hums a little, running a hand through his dark mop of hair in an attempt to recollect the last few spikes of the game. “The toss was a little low, but the right distance away from the net. Good job with the one before that, though. That was perfect.”

Sehun nods, lips curling up in a pleased smirk as he squirts the last of the water into his open mouth. Jongin is one of the few who’re able to spike his tosses. Sehun can be considered a genius, or something along those lines, of volleyball. His natural born talent, paired with years of honing his skills to perfection, has trained him into a formidable setter – one who analyses each play with careful eyes and tosses based off his accurate judgement.

Only, Jongin is the only one in their team skillful enough to manage spiking Sehun’s tough tosses. It’s probably one of their biggest weaknesses.

Kyungsoo is almost shivering in anticipation next to Sehun, riding out the last of his adrenaline as he rubs his sore limbs in an attempt to lighten the bruising later on. As their libero, the almost petite looking boy (at least amongst the giant freaks he calls teammates), specializes in defence. He’s also the one who sustains the most injuries on court from all the tumbling and diving he does to save the ball – the most essential part of connecting the team.

Keep it in the air, and the game continues.

The losing team is the one who drops the ball, after all.

Having caught his breath, Jongin goes around smacking his teammates on the back harshly while laughing maniacally to himself. “Good job, boys, very good job! We’re on to the next round!”

Kyungsoo almost jumps out of his skin when Jongin reaches him, and Sehun can only wince at the hollow sound of Jongin’s palm harshly meeting Kyungsoo’s back. “Kyungsoo! My dear, dear libero. Wonderful job out there, today. Their server was particularly harsh.”

Kyungsoo nods, ducking his head and hiding his larger, owl-like eyes under his bangs. He turns a deep red when Jongin slaps a band-aid onto his scraped chin. “Thanks… Captain.”

The second-year libero startles again when Jongin cackles, this time loudly and right into his ear. Sehun rolls his eyes, swallowing the last of his water. “Stop scaring Kyungsoo-hyung, captain. Or else we won’t have a libero for the next round.”

The third-year captain gasps loudly and rushes to Sehun’s side. Sehun grimaces again. He’d wanted to help Kyungsoo, but not at the cost of himself. He didn’t want to have to deal with Jongin’s post-match high.

Minseok saves him in the nick of time.

“Alright, we have to leave the court now to make way for the next two teams!” Their tiny manager (like Kyungsoo, his height is relative to the giants he calls his volleyball team) shouts over the crowd of noisy male highschoolers. By some miracle, everyone hears him and replies in collective agreement. “We’re seated at Section B!”

Jongin hangs a white towel around his neck and picks up his sportsbag before draping an arm around Sehun and leading him out the double doors. He’s extremely sweaty and there’s an eerie glint in his eyes that the maknae immediately becomes wary of. Sehun attempts to squirm out of his captain’s grasp but fails miserably – Jongin is far too strong.

“So, first-year, what were you saying?”

Is Sehun seeing things or has Jongin suddenly become a demon? His captain’s face has suddenly turned dark, and fire erupts in vicious spurts in the background from Sehun’s vision. The first-year setter pales considerably. “…Nothing, nothing, captain-!”

Sehun suddenly finds himself getting shoved by a brutal force. He’d have ended up crashing into the side of the corridor if not for Jongin, who doesn’t barge at all and stands firm against the mysterious form.

“Hmm?” A giant (even by their standards) peers down at them, a sports bag slung over his shoulder, and his gaze stone cold. His arms are covered by his school jacket, but the sheer force of the push itself is an indication to the raw strength he possesses. The corners of his mouth are pulled down slightly, and his blonde hair is pulled back from his face with a thin hairband – altogether, he looks like he’d be more at home on a runway than in a gymnasium packed with sweaty boys.

“Yifan, don’t intimidate the others! We haven’t even gotten to the first round yet!” Another boy approaches them, propping an elbow on the first boy’s – Yifan’s – shoulder casually. He’s easily as tall as Yifan, and his voice is a scary mismatch of thirty-year-old chain smoker and fifteen-year-old baby face. The newcomer smiles and Sehun immediately takes that comment back. He looks like a demented doll.

The newcomer and Yifan are suddenly assaulted by a smaller boy, one the same size, approximately, of Kyungsoo. His brown hair is slicked back messily, and if Sehun’s not mistaken, has a smudge of eyeliner decorating his lids. This boys’s  voice is as shocking as the old newcomer’s (?) voice, as though someone dripped acid down their throats as children. “Chanyeol! Yifan! Our match is starting soon, so you better not disappear again, retards.”

The tall newcomer – now identified as Chanyeol – and Yifan spare each other a glance before slinking off towards the court; the eyeliner boy still latched onto their backs securely.

Sehun and Jongin share an incredulous look. That height had been unmatched in the teams who’re proceeding on to the second round, and gauging by their strength and the build of their bodies, they’d be formidable opponents.

What interesting creatures. Jongin his head slightly as he glances back at the retreating backs of the three boys. Their jackets are black and red in colour, with the name “Gangcheol High Volleyball team” on the back.

☄

“Gangcheol High vs Goyang High, begin!”

Sehun sits up straighter, one hand stuffed into a large bowl of popcorn, as the next match starts. He points at the team in black and red jerseys. “Eh, Captain, aren’t those the people from just now?”

“You shouldn’t be eating that during competition season, you idiot!” Jongin glares at his dongsaeng, smacking him on the head and snatching the popcorn from him before directing another question at Minseok. “Yeah I almost forgot! We bumped into some of those tall- freaks from Gangcheol High just now (Minseok mutters a quick “coming from you…”) and I just thought the name sounded familiar. Any ideas?”

Minseok sighs, rubbing at his nose bridge as a vein pulses on his forehead. “Gangcheol High… It directly translates to Steel. They’re one of the four teams we have to look out for during nationals, remember? They have a solid defence, so much so it’s almost unbreakable. That’s why it’s called the-”

“-Iron Wall of Busan!” Jongin suddenly shouts in realization, earning him a slap to the head from their short-tempered manager. “No wonder they’re so tall.”

The crowd suddenly goes crazy when the small boy from earlier – the boy with the eyeliner – dives and saves the ball with a counter, just as their ball is blocked by the enemy and ricochetes back onto their side of the net. The bright red jersey is evidence enough of his status as the libero of the team, the equivalent of Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo sits ups straighter in his seat as well, from the amazing display of speed and flexibility.

“Number four – Byun Baekhyun, the libero – he won the Best Libero Award during last year’s nationals even though he was only in his first year. Gangcheol High got through three rounds without yielding a single goal. It’s crazy.” Minseok shakes his head as the crowd roars again.

This time, it’s because of the amazing three-man block up in front, number 1 – the captain – having spun the ball back around. It lands on the opponent’s side of the net and scores them yet another point.

“The three defenders are Wu Yifan” – Minseok points to the captain – “Park Chanyeol” – number two, this time, who’s still grinning as creepily as when Jongin had met them earlier – “and Huang Zitao.” The last kid is number three, and has the kind of look that tells you not to mess with him or regret living.

Minseok tuts in appreciation at their teamwork. The score is now 18-0, in Gangcheol’s favour – an Iron Wall indeed.

“…They all look kind of scary…” Kyungsoo comments as he watches Baekhyun dive for the ball again. It’s so intense that the small boy tumbles into the wall after intercepting the ball, and all four of them wince in sync.

It looks like it hurt. Alot.

However, Baekhyun gets up again, as though nothing of significance had just occured, and jogs back into the court with a small, box-shaped smirk on his face.

“Nah, not scary.” Jongin shakes his head, and Sehun only hums because it’s Jongin, he’s bound to say something absolutely retarded once every five minutes – unless he’s on the court, of course. Serious Jongin is a scary Jongin. “They look so familiar, I just can’t place it- WOAH!”

Chanyeol sets Yifan up for a spike, which comes crashing straight down onto the opponent’s side of the net. The opponent’s libero is fast, this time round, and is there to intercept the ball – instead, however, he gets knocked out right away when the ball crashes into his stomach with painful force.

Sehun finds himself wincing for the hundredth time. He’d experienced that strength first hand – and that small trifle in the corridor had been an accident. He doesn’t want to have to be a victim of a spike like that. He pities Kyungsoo though, who as a libero, normally tanks hits.

The opponent’s coach calls for a time out, leaving the members of Gangcheol Volleyball on the court as they call for an ambulance.

Baekhyun drops to sit on the volleyball casually, grumbling. “That libero is such a wimp. I just slammed into the wall! All he did was take a hit. It’s only a little hard, no biggie. I’d take him off court, anyday, easy.”

“We got better things to do than beat around some wimp like that.” Chanyeol laughs – Sehun sweatdrops because it sounds way too much like Jongin’s post-match high – and shuffles over to mess up Baekhyun’s hair. “When we go back after this is over, there’s definitely gonna be a turf war – especially since duizhang here is so far away. Their balls are gonna inflate so big, all I wanna do is smash a pipe so far up their those es won’t ever get nailed anymore.”

“So familiar…” Jongin rubs as chin thoughtfull while Sehun and Minseok exhange uncomfortable glances. Kyungsoo squeaks in terror. “… I hope we’re not going up against them. Ever.”

“Sorry, Kyungsoo,” Kyungsoo wants to faint at Mineseok’s (hardly) apologetic look. Jongin is still puzzling over Gangcheol High’s perceived familiarity while Sehun is avoiding his gaze at all costs. “But they’re in our set, so if they win this round… and they will… we’ll be playing against them next.”

Kyungsoo looks back at the court, where the opponent’s libero is getting carried off in a stretcher. Gulping, he starts to pray for his life.

“Gangcheol high, please vacate the court for a while, we need to clean-” The umpire freezes in his step as the entire Gangcheol team turns to glare at him. Baekhyun punches his palm while still seated on the volleyball, squinting his eyes (surprisingly) intimidatingly.

Chanyeol invades the umpire’s personal space, draping himself all over the poor guy as though he were asking for money. Yifan lumbers up to the much shorter umpire and stares down at him, his face black. Zitao, who’s as tall as Chanyeol and Yifan, steps up to flank his captain’s side and adds his own glare into the mix.

Sehun rubs at his temple in slight exasperation. The scene looks so natural he’s sure these boys have done it (many times) before. Gangcheol is renowned for its delinquents, after all.

As Jongin stares at the stuttering umpire, and the four players’ matching looks of intimidation, he stops chanting “so familiar” under his breath and snaps his fingers. “Ah! I got it!” The captain shoots a silly grin at Sehun. “Yakuza!”

Sehun turns from his captain to Minseok in one fluid motion, bows his head and claps his hands together above his head. “Please kill me now.”

☄

“That… was intense.” Minseok utters as Gangcheol high noisily vacates the court below. They’d won, as expected, but by an overwhelming 25-0 to their favour on both sets. The other team had been totally crushed; mentally and physically.

“And cruel.” Sehun adds in, a finger raised. Prodding Jongin’s unmoving form an