The scoreboard read:
Karasuno: 18
Date Tech: 17
Both teams were dripping with sweat. Even the crowd felt the tension—no one sat still, and no one looked away.
On the court, Kurosawa stood still as stone, but his aura had changed. The robotic stillness had vanished. There was fire in his eyes now. For the first time, he *looked* like an athlete—like someone who wanted to win.
The system buzzed in Riku's mind.
System Notice: Variant "Kurosawa" has entered Phase 2 – Instinctual Override
Cognitive AI now responding to emotional cues. Tactical evolution accelerating.
Threat Level: High
Riku wiped his forehead.
"Kageyama," he said, stepping into rotation. "We need to shift again."
Kageyama nodded. "Don't need to tell me."
The serve came—Karasuno's ball. Sugawara tossed it gently across the net.
Futakuchi received it cleanly and set it to Aone in the middle. The crowd leaned in, expecting the classic Date Tech wall.
But Riku saw it immediately.
Kurosawa wasn't going for a standard block.
He jumped alone, shifting midair, aiming for *redirection*.
"Aone's not the real attack!" Riku yelled.
Kurosawa didn't block the ball.
He *pushed* it sideways—just enough to send it spiraling toward the empty back corner.
The entire Karasuno defense lunged. Nishinoya dived full length—
But it was too far.
Point, Date Tech.
Kurosawa landed silently.
He didn't celebrate.
But he looked straight at Riku.
Their eyes locked.
He was reading not just the game—but the players themselves.
"What was that?" Hinata asked, wide-eyed.
"He's changing how he blocks," Daichi said. "He's not just denying attacks—he's manipulating the direction of play."
"He's trying to *control the flow*," Riku muttered. "Like a setter… but from the block."
And that was dangerous.
It was rare enough to see someone block with instinct, let alone use it to redirect entire plays.
The system chimed again.
Memory Thread Unlocked – "Instinct-based AI counter-strategies"
Advised Countermeasure: Reinforce team sync. Abandon solo patterns.
Riku closed his eyes.
He remembered a moment from his past life.
His team had built a virtual player once—one that learned in real time. It was unbeatable in one-on-ones. The only strategy that worked was when players moved in unpredictable *harmony*. No star. No fixed patterns. Just connection.
That was the answer.
Back in the present, Riku turned to the team.
"Everyone—we go full teamplay. No solo spikes. No single set options. Read each other. Move together."
"You want chaos again?" Tanaka asked.
"No," Riku said. "I want unity. But with freedom."
Kageyama raised an eyebrow. "So... total trust?"
Riku nodded. "Exactly."
The next rally began.
This time, Karasuno was different.
They flowed.
Kageyama tossed behind the back without looking—Hinata was already there.
Tanaka leapt for a fake—Asahi hammered the real one down the line.
Kurosawa tried to adjust—his movements twitching, trying to process multiple options.
Too slow.
The ball shot past his fingers.
Point.
Then another.
And another.
Karasuno: 21
Date Tech: 18
The gym roared with every score, the energy pulsing like electricity.
Kiyoko watched silently from the sidelines. Her eyes weren't on the score.
They were on Riku.
He wasn't just strong.
He was making everyone else stronger.
Back on the court, Kurosawa stared at the floor for a moment, breathing heavily.
Then something strange happened.
He smiled.
Just a little.
Then he muttered, just loud enough for Riku to hear across the net.
"I see now… this world *isn't* made for machines."
Riku's eyes widened.
He'd spoken.
Kurosawa reset his stance.
"Let's finish this."
The next rally was pure intensity.
Date Tech began pushing faster. Futakuchi tossed a high-risk quick. Aone and Kurosawa moved like twin towers. Kurosawa tracked Hinata and Riku simultaneously, waiting for Kageyama's tell.
Except there wasn't one.
Kageyama launched a low toss to Tanaka, who sliced it through the seam between both blockers.
The ball nicked Kurosawa's fingers—
And landed in.
Set point.
Karasuno: 24
Date Tech: 20
One more.
The gym fell silent again.
Hinata stepped up to serve.
He bounced the ball once.
Twice.
Then launched it high.
A fast serve whistled across the court—Date Tech received it, barely.
Futakuchi tossed it high to the outside.
Kurosawa jumped—not to block, but to spike.
He was attacking now.
A system user on offense.
Riku moved instinctively.
He leapt to meet him in the air.
Their eyes met.
For a split second—Riku saw it.
Kurosawa wasn't just attacking to score.
He was testing him.
He wanted to know if *Riku* could match him at his best.
So Riku did.
He soared higher, reading the angle, twisting his hand just right.
His fingers met the ball—
Stuff block.
The gym erupted.
Final score:
Karasuno wins – 2 sets to 0.
Riku landed and breathed hard, his heart pounding in his ears.
Kurosawa looked at him calmly.
Then nodded.
No anger. No resentment.
Just respect.
"You're strong," he said simply. "And not just because of the system."
Then he turned and walked away.
Riku stood still for a moment.
His system buzzed again.
Variant Kurosawa – Respect Earned
Sync Link Possible: Awaiting Future Event
Progress Toward Awakening: 15%
Awakening?
Before he could think more, he heard footsteps.
Kiyoko approached, towel in hand.
"You played well," she said, handing it to him.
"Thanks," Riku replied, catching his breath.
He glanced at her. For a moment, her calm expression softened.
"You looked alive out there."
He blinked. "Huh?"
"Just saying." She turned and walked back toward the bench.
And just like that, Riku's heart beat a little faster than usual.