Score: Nekoma 15 - 8 Inarizaki.
Inarizaki called their second timeout.
The "Challengers" looked like they were the ones being challenged, and failing. Coach Kurosu stood before his team, his arms crossed.
"You are panicking," Kurosu said calmly, his voice cutting through the heavy breathing of his players. "Atsumu. You are trying to win the point on the first touch. You are rushing the sets."
"He's reading me!" Atsumu snapped, pointing a trembling finger at Ryuu (who was currently juggling a volleyball with his feet on the other side of the net, looking like he was at a park). "He knows where I'm setting before I set it! It's annoying!"
"Then stop trying to trick him," Kurosu said. "Play honest volleyball. Give the ball to Aran. Trust your hitters."
Atsumu gritted his teeth, glancing back at Ryuu. "I don't play honest. I play to win."
The Match Resumes.
Score: 18 - 10.
The timeout didn't fix the crack in the glass; it just delayed the shattering.
Atsumu tried to get fancy again. He couldn't help himself. He wanted to prove he was the smartest player on the court.
He received a pass. He jumped. He faked a set to Aran on the left, his eyes widening to sell the lie, then twisted his wrists to back-set to Osamu on the right.
It was a beautiful, deceptive move. Against any other blocker, it would have left the net wide open.
But Ryuu didn't bite.
He was blocking on the left. He saw Atsumu's eyes dart to the right for a micro-second. He saw the tension in Atsumu's shoulders that screamed 'I'm doing something clever!'
'Fake,' Ryuu thought, unimpressed.
Ryuu didn't jump with Aran. He slid along the net.
When Osamu jumped to hit the "open" net, he found a red mountain waiting for him.
ROOF.
Ryuu stuffed Osamu with a one-handed block. He didn't even need two hands. He just placed his giant palm over the ball and shoved it down.
Nekoma 19 - 10.
Osamu landed, looking betrayed. "Tsumu! You said he'd bite on the fake!"
"He's a monster! Monsters don't follow logic!" Atsumu screamed back, kicking the net post.
Ryuu leaned over the net, resting his chin on his arms.
"You guys rely too much on 'surprise'," Ryuu lectured them, his voice bored. "Surprise only works once. After that, it's just a pattern."
He pointed a long finger at Atsumu.
"You're a magician who only knows one card trick. I've seen the card. It's the Ace of Spades. Pick a new one."
Atsumu turned purple. "I HAVE MORE TRICKS!"
______________
Score: 22 - 12.
The game was falling apart. Inarizaki's mental state was shattered. The noise from their own band felt mocking now.
Suna tried to spike; he hit it out because he was trying so hard to avoid Ryuu's reach that he missed the court entirely.
Aran tried to spike; Yaku dug it easily because the set was sloppy and rushed.
Atsumu tried a setter dump; Ryuu didn't even jump. He just stood on his tiptoes and swatted it down like a basketball block.
"Out," Ryuu said calmly as the ball bounced away.
Nekoma 23 - 12.
The crowd was silent. The brass band had actually stopped playing. It was awkward to play a fight song during a massacre.
Ryuu rotated to the front row.
"Kenma," Ryuu said. "One more."
"You're enjoying this too much," Kenma muttered, wiping sweat.
"I'm not enjoying it," Ryuu corrected, looking at the defeated faces of the Twins. "I'm finishing my chores."
Nekoma served. Inarizaki received.
Atsumu set to Aran. A desperate high ball.
Aran spiked. Ryuu touched it. "One touch!"
Yaku bumped it up.
"Counter!"
Kenma set to Ryuu.
Ryuu approached. The Inarizaki block was disjointed. Atsumu and Suna jumped, but there was a gap between them because they were arguing about spacing.
Ryuu jumped.
He hovered. He looked at the Twins.
'You have talent,' Ryuu thought. 'But you lack steel. Itachiyama bent but didn't break. You guys shattered at the first sign of pressure.'
Ryuu swung. He didn't hit a line shot or a cross.
He hit a straight-down Inner Spike.
He snapped his wrist and buried the ball into the 3-meter line.
BOOM.
The ball bounced so high it hit the referee's stand, startling the poor official.
Nekoma 24 - 12. Match Point.
Ryuu landed. He didn't roar. He just fixed his hair.
"One more," Ryuu said.
____________
Inarizaki looked defeated. Their shoulders were slumped. They wanted to go home.
Nekoma served. Akagi received.
Atsumu set the ball. But his hands were shaking slightly. The set was too close to the net.
Suna tried to push it over.
Ryuu was there.
He didn't block it. He dunked it.
He jumped, reached over the net with both hands, grabbed the space above the ball, and shoved it back down before Suna could fully extend.
CRUNCH.
The ball hit the floor on the Inarizaki side.
Game Set Match.
Nekoma Wins 2 - 0.
(26-24, 25-12).
The whistle blew.
The Inarizaki players stood frozen. Losing was one thing. Being dismantled like that... it was humiliating.
Ryuu landed. He looked at Atsumu through the net.
Atsumu was staring at the floor, fists clenched, trembling.
"Hey, Fox," Ryuu called out.
Atsumu looked up, eyes burning with tears of frustration.
"You're good," Ryuu said honestly. "But you play like you're the main character. You think the story bends around you."
Ryuu turned his back, walking toward his team.
"But this is a sports anime," Ryuu threw over his shoulder. "And in this arc... I'm the Final Boss."
____________________
The handshake was icy. Atsumu refused to look Ryuu in the eye. Osamu looked hungry (for food or revenge, it was unclear). Suna looked like he wanted to sleep for a week.
As Ryuu walked off the court, Kuroo slung an arm around him.
"You were brutal," Kuroo laughed. "25-12 in the second set? You broke their spirits."
"They were fragile," Ryuu shrugged, grabbing his water. "Itachiyama was tougher. Bokuto was scarier."
Ryuu looked up at the bracket on the wall.
He had cleared the Second Round.
He had cleared the Third Round (Inarizaki).
Quarterfinals.
The name on the bracket was waiting.
Shiratorizawa Academy.
Ryuu's bored expression vanished. A genuine, excited smile replaced it.
"Okay," Ryuu whispered, feeling his blood pump for the first time all day.
"No more tricks. No more bands. No more bending."
He pictured the stoic, machine-like face of Ushijima Wakatoshi.
"Just pure, heavy artillery. Finally."