The ball was saved.
Hayato clicked his tongue midair, already irritated before his feet touched the ground. It wasn't just Karasuno that had been sharpening their claws—every team in Tokyo had been training relentlessly. By the middle of their match against Fukurodani, even Hayato's power had been read. Their libero had adapted.
"Nice one! Give me the ball!"
Bokuto's shout split the air. With Akaashi's perfect set, he launched skyward. Hayato jumped to meet him head-on, arms high for the block—
But Bokuto twisted at the last instant, his spike veering cross-court, just inside the line.
"Seriously?!"
"No way—I thought that was going straight!" Hinata and Kageyama blurted in unison from the bench.
Hayato scowled. "You're unbelievable, Bokuto-senpai."
"Heh, heh, heh~ Don't underestimate Fukurodani's ace!" Bokuto flashed a V-sign, grinning.
Beside him, Akaashi deadpanned, "He only changed the line because he didn't want to get blocked."
"Hey, hey! No need to say that out loud!" Bokuto snapped back, puffing up.
But Karasuno wasn't about to let the momentum slide. Hayato shot a quick look to Asahi and Sugawara, then signaled Daichi behind him. A chance ball floated their way—Daichi passed cleanly, Sugawara set, and both Asahi and Hayato went up as decoys.
Fukurodani's blockers bit hard.
And then—Daichi, charging from the back row, soared and hammered the ball through untouched.
Point, Karasuno.
Their new "Double Quick with a Back Attack" tactic had landed its first strike.
"Too strong!" Daichi laughed as his teammates swarmed him, high-fives slapping in quick succession.
On the other side, Bokuto grinned despite himself. "That's it. Don't you dare roll over—make this fun!"
Then, unexpectedly—
"Yamaguchi, you're in."
The second-year froze. His heart leapt into his throat.
"Eh? Now?!"
Takeda-sensei leaned toward Ukai nervously. "Coach… isn't this a bit sudden?"
Ukai didn't answer immediately, his gaze fixed on Yamaguchi adjusting his jersey. His fingers curled slightly on his arm.
He'd watched this boy since the first round of preliminaries—watched him stumble, watched him grind, watched him serve ball after ball after practice when no one else was looking. The nerves always crushed him when it mattered, but today…
Today felt different.
"If I give him time to overthink, he'll break," Ukai finally muttered. "So I won't."
On court, Yamaguchi's hands trembled as he stepped behind the line.
"Relax, Tadashi!" Hayato called back from the front row. "It's just a practice match. Even if you miss, we've got your back! Right, Asahi-senpai?"
Asahi scratched his head, smiling warmly. "Of course. No pressure, Yamaguchi."
The sight of his tall seniors standing solid in front of him steadied Yamaguchi's heart. He drew a deep breath, remembering Hayato's quiet advice: Eight seconds after the whistle. Don't rush.
The shrill blast came.
Yamaguchi exhaled. Toss. Jump. Contact.
The ball floated—knifing through the air with that unpredictable, irregular wobble he'd chased for so long. Fukurodani's libero reached, got under it—
And failed.
The ball dropped, untouched.
Ace.
For a heartbeat, silence. Then—
"Amazing!!!"
Yamaguchi's own shout tore from his chest, fists clenched in pure, unrestrained joy.
"Nice serve!!" Hayato, Asahi, and Daichi swarmed him instantly, ruffling his hair. On the bench, Hinata and Nishinoya nearly leapt onto the court before being dragged back.
This wasn't luck. This wasn't practice. This was his serve, his will, his point.
From across the gym, Nekoma's coach chuckled. "Another fledgling's hatched."
Fukurodani, confused at Karasuno's over-the-top celebration for "just one serve," turned to Akaashi. Calmly, he explained: "That wasn't just one point. That was a weapon being born."
And he was right.
Yamaguchi went on to score four points in a row, his Jump Float cutting sharper with each attempt. Ukai subbed him in again and again, letting him soak in the court's pressure until his nerves began to burn into fuel.
Watching his best friend shine, Tsukishima quietly adjusted his glasses, eyes narrowing. He wouldn't allow himself to be left behind.
That night at dinner, Nishinoya and Hayato piled food onto Tsukishima's plate, clapping him on the back.
"Today was tough, Tsukki—you've gotta eat properly!"
"Yu's right, Tsukki, With your build, you need fuel," Hayato added with a grin.
Tsukishima gave them both a look, then wordlessly dug into the mountain of rice and meat, determined not to waste a bite.
Yamaguchi, sitting beside him, started to protest, then stopped. Watching Tsukishima's silent determination, his chest tightened with pride.
Tsukki… keep it up.
And with that, Karasuno's first-years took one more step forward, their wings stretching wider under the watchful eyes of their seniors.
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