[Author's Note: Aoba Johsai = Seijoh]
The morning of the match arrived with a silence that made my ears ache. It wasn't the usual quiet of dawn, but a heavy void, as if the air itself knew what was about to happen.
As soon as I opened my eyes, my first thought went to that invisible bond that made me feel like a god on the court. I tried to concentrate, searching for that spark behind my eyelids.
Nothing.
The cold words that had resonated in my head the night before were still there, fixed like a sentence.
I felt naked.
It was as if someone had stripped the armor off me just a moment before pushing me into the middle of a war.
I forced myself up and went to the bathroom. The neon light above the mirror hurt my eyes, forcing me to squint.
I didn't like what I saw reflected at all. There was a boy with deep dark circles and a gaze so dull it looked like ash. There was no trace of yesterday's vitality.
"I have to make it," I whispered to the image in the mirror. But my voice was thin, trembling. Even I wasn't convinced.
The trip to the gymnasium was a long tunnel of dark thoughts. When we got off the bus, the impact with reality was brutal.
Thousands of people dressed in white and turquoise made the stands shake with a rhythm that got into your bones.
The noise was an invisible wall, a coordinated chant that made the walls tremble. In the midst of that crowd, I tried to calm down, to find my mental balance.
We entered the locker rooms for the technical meeting. I was already putting on my kneepads, preparing my mind for every possible trajectory from Oikawa, when Coach Ukai spoke up.
"Listen," Ukai said, staring at the whiteboard. "There will be changes to today's starting lineup. Hinata and Tsukishima will start in the middle."
I stopped with a shoe in my hand. I thought it was normal, that maybe he wanted to sub me in during the game to change the pace. But Ukai continued, reading the list of substitutes.
"Kazuki, today you're staying out."
The silence that followed was sharp. I looked up, incredulous. "Coach... what does this mean?"
Ukai sighed, crossing his arms. He didn't look me in the eye.
"Yuya, I watched you last night and I saw you this morning. You aren't doing well physically, and mentally you seem to be somewhere else. Against Oikawa, I can't afford players who aren't at a hundred percent. It's for the good of the team."
I was infuriated. I felt the blood pulsing in my veins, a hot rage pushing me to scream, to break something. But I didn't make a scene. I remained motionless, in an absolute silence that spoke louder than a thousand cries. My teammates looked at me with pity. Sugawara took a step forward, trying to intervene.
"Coach, maybe Yuya could..."
"No," Ukai cut him off sharply. "The decision is made."
Even Daichi tried to say something, but the Coach's gaze was immovable. We finished getting ready in a freezing atmosphere.
The match began. The referee's whistle signaled the start of the dance, but I wasn't on the court. I found myself sitting on the bench, right next to Kiyoko and the Coach, with Professor Takeda sitting a short distance away casting worried glances at me.
I was wearing the substitute bib.
I felt the heat of the court, I heard the sound of the balls, but I was separated from everything by a white line that looked like an insurmountable wall.
My hands were resting on my knees, clenched into fists so tight my knuckles looked like they wanted to pierce through the skin.
I looked at Coach Ukai.
He was motionless with his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on the court. He had a pensive but confident expression, as if we had already won.
"Tsk," I muttered under my breath. I gritted my teeth until my jaw ached. Rage burned in my stomach like acid.
The first set was a total massacre. Oikawa Toru went to serve with a calm that was terrifying. He fixed his hair and took a deep breath as he tossed the ball toward the ceiling.
When he jumped, he looked like a predator. The hit was sharp and echoed throughout the gym like a whip crack.
The ball slammed down between Tanaka and Nishinoya. Neither had time to move. Oikawa smiled in that superior way that made your blood boil.
He fired another even stronger, and then a short one that fell right in front of a desperate Daichi.
I saw my teammates' faces slowly dim. Tanaka had a lost look and his arms were trembling with uncertainty.
Kageyama was a mask of pure tension. He tried to respond to his master, but every one of his sets was too stiff and predictable.
On the other side, Matsukawa and Hanamaki put up a block that looked like a forest.
They weren't giants like Aone, but they knew exactly where we were going to hit. The set ended 25 to 15 for them.
The guys returned to the bench with slumped shoulders, and Hinata was gasping for air, staring at the floor. They were dull and frightened.
In the second set, Ukai made his move and called for Sugawara. The entry of the third-year setter changed the air in an instant.
Sugawara didn't have Kageyama's talent, but he had an immense heart. He started talking to everyone and giving pats on the back to wake them up.
The set became a battle of nerves. I saw Iwaizumi load up devastating hits, he was the backbone of Seijoh.
Every time Oikawa was in trouble, he relied on him. Iwaizumi hit an incredible diagonal, but Nishinoya dove into a desperate Rolling Thunder, saving the ball with his fingertips.
Karasuno finally began to relax.
Asahi started breaking through the opposing block with brute force, and Hinata began running like lightning again.
We reached 24 to 23 in our favor.
Sugawara nodded to Tanaka and set him a soft ball. Tanaka jumped and spiked a line shot, screaming like a madman.
We won the set 25 to 23.
The boys were shouting and hugging, but I looked at Oikawa. He wasn't worried at all. He was talking to Iwaizumi with a glacial calm.
The third set was a massacre of energy. Fatigue was written on every face and sweat soaked the parquet, making it slippery. I saw the young Kunimi start hitting with frightening lucidity just when we were at our most tired.
It was Oikawa's strategy.
He wanted to wear us down and then finish us at the critical moment.
It went back and forth, point for point. Every rally lasted an eternity. I saw Daichi stagger after a chest receive and I saw Hinata's legs tremble after yet another sprint. I was there with my fists clenched so hard blood almost came from my palms.
The physical pain was nothing compared to what I felt inside.
"Let me in, Coach," I whispered toward Ukai, but he didn't even turn around.
His profile was as hard as stone. He knew that if I had entered, I couldn't have done anything.
We reached deuce in an unbreathable atmosphere.
At 31 to 31, Oikawa went to serve and the gym suddenly fell silent. He tossed the ball and hit it with inhuman power.
Daichi flew backward to keep it up, and the ball went toward Kageyama. It was the last rally of our season.
I saw Kageyama look at Hinata out of pure instinct, but I also saw Oikawa smile. He had already predicted everything ten rallies ago. Even without the Sharingan, I could feel the horror that was about to happen.
Iwaizumi and Matsukawa moved to the right in perfect synchrony, exactly where Hinata was about to jump.
"NOT THERE!" I screamed, standing up with tears burning my eyes. But the noise of the crowd swallowed my voice.
Kageyama set for Hinata, and the little giant flew into the air, closing his eyes for the final blow. In front of him, however, was only an impassable wall. Three pairs of hands closed every gap.
A sharp sound of rubber against fingers.
The ball hit the wall and bounced heavily onto our court, rolling away from Nishinoya's reflexes.
BEEP BEEP BIIIP!!!!!
The final whistle was like a guillotine. Aoba Johsai 33, Karasuno 31.
The silence that fell on our side of the court was that of a graveyard.
Hinata remained on the ground with his face against the wood. Kageyama stared into space with tears falling silently onto his shoes. We had lost, and the dream of the Nationals had shattered.
I stood motionless in front of the bench while the others celebrated. Oikawa sought my gaze, and for a moment our eyes met. There was no mockery, only the awareness of having beaten a wounded team.
Ukai lowered his head and covered his eyes with one hand. I felt like a total non-entity. I had stood by and watched while my team was destroyed. I picked up my bag, feeling the weight of every mistake pressing on my shoulders.
The tournament was over, and I had been just a useless spectator of our failure.