Daichi's serve sailed cleanly over the net. Shiratorizawa received it with practiced precision, and right away, the ball was sent into the hands of their cornerstone—Ushijima Wakatoshi.
From the back row, Ushijima launched himself into the air. His approach was calm, mechanical, almost frightening in its certainty.
"Tsk, this guy…" Hayato muttered as he tracked him.
Three blockers went up at once, hands pressing over the tape—but it was useless. Even with Hayato's extended hang time, Ushijima simply waited them out. With his sheer physical advantage, he swung at the very peak, choosing his angle only when every other player was already on their way down.
The ball screamed past the outstretched hands and rocketed toward Karasuno's backcourt.
Tanaka ducked under the blast. Tsukishima, rotated into the back row, braced for it but faltered; he couldn't take that velocity head-on. At the last second, Daichi slid in, calling—
"I got it!"
Kageyama immediately pulled back to avoid colliding, but even then, Daichi's forearms trembled as the ball smacked against him. The impact jarred his wrist, the ball ricocheting wildly out of bounds.
"Ushijima! Ushijima!"
The gym thundered with Shiratorizawa's cheer squad, megaphones and drums pounding in sync.
Daichi grimaced, flexing his wrist. "My bad."
"Don't worry, Captain. Next ball, next ball!" Hayato quickly called. Everyone joined in to steady their leader, but the weight of Ushijima's attack left Daichi's expression tight. So heavy… as expected of Ushijima.
And before Karasuno could even breathe, Shiratorizawa's rotation placed their absolute weapon back in the front row.
"He's already in the front row again?" Saeko groaned from the stands. "This is bad."
Akiteru, watching from beside her, frowned as well. "And Nishinoya isn't on court right now. They can't face Ushijima's spikes directly…"
Karasuno regrouped quickly, but the threat was obvious.
Shirabu stepped up for a jump serve, his form crisp, his toss high. He hammered the ball forward, but Daichi calmly absorbed the serve with a perfect receive.
"Attack!"
"Cover!"
Karasuno moved in unison, the play flowing seamlessly into motion. On the other side, Ushijima didn't even step into defense. He retreated to his launch point, knowing the next rally would hinge on him.
But focus had consequences. Goshiki, distracted by Hinata after the last quick, hesitated for just half a beat. His delayed block left an opening.
"Now!"
Kageyama flung the set, and Hayato stormed in from the wing. His approach was explosive, his voice tearing from his throat as he jumped and slammed the ball.
"ORAAAH!"
The spike whistled through the air. Reon, the tall defender in the back, managed to dig it up, but the sheer power sent the ball floating high and awkward.
Shirabu scrambled, eyes sharp. And everyone knew where this ball was going.
"Ushijima-senpai!"
The set was high, perfect. Ushijima rose, a predator in full wingspan, looming above the tape.
Hayato was already there.
"Ughhhhhh!" He roared as he launched, every muscle straining.
The two Aces met at the summit. Ushijima's spike slammed into Hayato's palm. The sound echoed like a gunshot.
BAM!
The ball forced Hayato's arm backward, his fingers quivering from the force. The block didn't hold. The ball ricocheted diagonally out of bounds.
The whistle blew. Point—Shiratorizawa.
"Ohhh!" Gasps and applause rolled through the stands. "Karasuno's block was broken… head-on!"
Ushijima landed with calm indifference, as if splitting a triple block were simply routine.
The scoreboard shifted: Shiratorizawa 8. Technical timeout.
Hayato walked back to the bench silently. His taped fingers still shook from the recoil. He flexed them slowly, his eyes fixed on Ushijima's unmoving back.
A hand tapped his shoulder. Daichi's voice was steady. "Are you okay?"
Hayato shook his head lightly. "Captain… this is the absolute monarch, Ushijima Wakatoshi. Isn't he the perfect opponent?"
The fire in his eyes said it all—no despair, only exhilaration.
Daichi smiled faintly. "That's right. Go all out. We're all behind you."
Coach Ukai gathered the team. "Listen up. Blocking is all about timing. If we can't stop him outright, then touch the ball. Make him feel the wall. Restrict his cross-court, force him straight. Shrink his angles, and we'll get our defense into play."
He turned to Hayato. "That last one was good. You didn't stop him, but you touched him. Keep pressing him. But mind your timing—Tanaka and Hinata can't always match your jump."
Hayato nodded sharply. "Understood."
The buzzer sounded. Time was up.
The teams returned to the court. The cheers of Karasuno's section swelled:
"Hayato-senpai, go for it!"
"Don't lose!"
Hayato stepped back onto the court, licking his lips, eyes locked forward.
Beside him, Hinata clenched his fists. That gaze… I can't lose to Senpai either.
The ball was tossed into Shiratorizawa's hands once again.
The rally was about to resume.
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