The stadium pulsed with electricity, thousands of fans roaring under a haze of spotlights, flags waving and banners unfurling in an endless, shimmering sea. On the court, the air felt sharp enough to slice. Ji-hye wiped her palms on her shorts, heart pounding like a war drum in her chest. Across the net, Valeria grinned, lips curled in challenge, eyes glinting with the thrill of the hunt.
First serve. The whistle blew. The ball sailed from Valeria's hand, spinning low and hard. The Korean libero dove, barely keeping it alive. Ji-hye scrambled, hands moving on muscle memory, sending it up for the captain. The spike hammered into Spanish blockers, bounced high, then was sent back—rally after rally, the two teams trading blows like boxers, refusing to fall.
