The gym buzzed with nervous energy.
Arata stood among the team, gripping the volleyball like it was part of him. The first-year players were being lined up for their first scrimmage. Every eye in the room seemed to watch him, though he tried to ignore it.
He had trained alone for months. He knew his body, his timing, his instincts. But this was different. This was the first time he would move on a real court with real teammates.
The coach blew his whistle. "Teams. Take your positions."
Arata moved to the center of the court. Hinata's speed. Kageyama's precision. He had seen them in his last life, but he was no longer watching from the outside. Now he was part of the game.
The first serve came. He read it instinctively. His feet moved. His hands reacted before he even thought. The ball met his arms and launched high over the net. He adjusted mid-air, spinning, twisting. His spike landed perfectly, hitting the marked spot on the opposite side.
Gasps ran through the gym.
He could feel the adrenaline surging. This was it. This was the taste of real competition.
The scrimmage continued. He ran, jumped, blocked, and spiked. Every movement was instinct. Every choice calculated from the training he had done alone. His hybrid style was apparent. No one could predict him. No one could stop him.
By the end of the match, his team had won easily. The first-years stared in awe. The upperclassmen whispered among themselves.
The coach approached. "Impressive. Very impressive. You are not just a player. You are a force."
Arata nodded quietly. Praise meant little to him now. He was here to grow. He was here to surpass everyone.
Walking off the court, sweat dripping and muscles aching, he looked at the volleyball in his hands.
This was only the beginning.
And with that, he began his journey.