The second set was already past the halfway mark. The scoreboard read 19:14. A five-point gap that felt almost impossible to overcome.
Tsutomu Goshiki frowned, his chest burning with each breath, his throat dry. He leapt and drove the ball down with force.
Wakutani had already figured out how to guide Tsutomu Goshiki's spikes. This one was dug up from deep in the back by Kazuteru.
"Nice receive!"
Tsutomu Goshiki sucked in heavy breaths. Ever since the second set began, Wakutani had become incredibly tenacious. Every rally dragged on endlessly. That was not good for him.
"Hanayama!" Kazuteru gritted his teeth as he took the ball again. Tsutomu Goshiki's spikes still carried serious power.
Hanayama tracked the ball in the air, calculating angle and placement. Todo and Takeru crouched, ready to jump. Todo and Narita kept their eyes locked on Tendo and Tsutomu Goshiki.
Todo pulled attention away, creating cover for the attack.
Under that cover, Takeru spread his arms wide. His shoes squeaked sharply against the floor as sweat slid down his forehead.
He could see the Block clearly now. No matter where he hit it, that redhead would be there.
Then… one more time.
Takeru clenched his jaw and smashed the ball straight into Tendo's fingertips. The moment he landed, he turned and sprinted back.
Tendo felt the touch against his fingers and clicked his tongue softly.
"One more time!" Takeru shouted.
Kotaro immediately understood.
"Got it!"
Takeru charged to the net again. Kotaro set a long Omega fast, and Takeru crushed it.
The ball clipped the line perfectly—a flawless line shot. Tsutomu Goshiki, who had been preparing to block, froze in disbelief.
He snapped his head up, eyes shining as he stared at Takeru. A line shot… that was way too cool!!
Takeru wiped the sweat from his head, baffled by Tsutomu Goshiki's starry-eyed look. Why was he staring at him like that?
"Nice one, Takeru."
Hanayama grinned and punched his shoulder lightly. There was no hope of winning now. They might as well enjoy their final match as third-years.
On a court soaked with sweat and tears, there was never a shortage of failure—whether for one person or a whole team. Some would sympathize, some would sigh in regret, but no one's eyes lingered long.
Applause and crowns belonged only to the victors. People admired strength.
Shirabu set the ball. Sensing the attackers near the net, he sent it to Ushijima without hesitation.
No words were needed. Between setter and Wing Spiker, a glance was enough.
"Bang!"
Ushijima's left-handed spike slammed into the floor.
Narita's arm, already mottled with bruises, was struck again and knocked back.
Clutching it, he stared at the ball that had fallen, guilt written all over his face.
Todo stepped in to comfort him. "It's okay. We… still have a chance."
The bold 24:19 on the scoreboard was painfully bright.
Narita lowered his gaze and said nothing.
It was Reon's turn to serve. Looking at the battered Wakutani players, he felt no pity, no guilt. No matter how miserable you look, there can only be one winner.
Kazuteru sniffed hard, eyes fixed on the incoming serve. He had to receive it. This was their last chance.
Tears nearly spilled as he rushed forward. The ball slammed into his arms so hard it felt like they might buckle.
Gritting his teeth, he forced his arms up. The ball popped high into the air—landing perfectly in a spot where Takeru could attack. There was plenty of luck in that.
"Go, Takeru!"
"You've got this!"
"Put it away!"
The coach's eyes grew damp. These kids… they'd all grown into their own sense of responsibility. Good. So good.
Takeru heard them. His eyes sharpened with resolve. Carrying everyone's hopes, he swung with everything he had.
"Smack!"
It wasn't the sound of the ball hitting the floor.
It was the sound of it being stopped by a palm—dropping back down onto Wakutani's side.
The impact landed just as heavily in Takeru Nakajima's heart.
He stared in shock at Tsutomu Goshiki in front of him. When… when had he gotten there? That space had been empty just seconds ago.
Tsutomu Goshiki stared blankly at his reddened palm and slowly clenched it. He didn't really know what had happened either. He'd just felt that, in that moment, this was what he had to do.
"Beeeeep—"
The match was over. Shiratorizawa had won again.
"That last one was great, Tsutomu Goshiki!" Reon laughed, clapping him on the shoulder.
Tsutomu Goshiki was too dazed to think about what had just happened. Being praised left him flustered, pink bubbles practically rising off him.
Shirabu nodded in agreement but didn't voice any praise. His tsundere personality made compliments difficult.
Tendo draped an arm over Tsutomu Goshiki's shoulders as they walked off. Ushijima and Reon were already discussing what to eat for dinner.
On the Wakutani side, the atmosphere was heavy.
Takeru looked up at his parents and brothers in the stands, sniffed, and gave them a bright smile.
His father forced back tears and bared his teeth in a grin. Of course he understood. His son's sense of responsibility was too strong. He was afraid of disappointing everyone…
After the match, both teams bowed to the spectators.
Facing so many people who had come to watch them play, Takeru finally broke. As he bowed, tears streamed down his face.
Watari, eyes red, stayed by his side and tried to comfort him.
Suddenly, a middle-aged man in an apron stood up in the stands and shouted:
"Hey! You Wakutani boys! You might've lost, but that was an incredible match!"
The Wakutani players looked at each other. Then, unable to hold back, they smiled and bowed again in thanks.
Todo used to hate that phrase—"You lost, but it was a great match." It always sounded like consolation for losers.
But looking at the shine in that man's eyes, Todo suddenly understood.
Those weren't empty words. Only someone who truly loved what they had shown on that court could say that.
Watari stood beside Takeru and glanced at his still-red eyes.
"So? What about now? Are you still retiring?"
Takeru shook his head firmly. "No. I'm staying. Next time… I'm going to beat them."
Watari smiled in satisfaction.
Too many club members planned to retire once they reached their third year. Even Takeru had considered it.
For third-years, entrance exams and future schools were crucial. Without good results, the road ahead would narrow.
Watari had always planned to stay until graduation. Still, watching teammates leave one by one after this match hurt more than he'd expected.
But after today's game, knowing these stubborn, competitive idiots—
There would definitely be a next match.
…How nice.
Watari looked out at the sun beyond the arena and let out a quiet sigh.
…
While the rest of Shiratorizawa continued talking about the game, Tsutomu Goshiki, Ryosuke, and Yunohama had already slipped away to check whether Aobajosai's match had ended.
Reon noticed their suspicious movements, exchanged a look with Ushijima, and quietly followed.
"Whoa…" Tsutomu Goshiki cracked open the back door and gasped.
"What? What is it?" Ryosuke shoved at his head impatiently, trying to squeeze a look inside.
Yunohama, trapped between them, scowled. "Hey! Stop pushing! Tsutomu Goshiki, move!"
"Ah!" ×3
Reon, who had appeared at some point, stared at the three wiggling backsides outside the door. Rubbing his forehead, he kicked each of them inside.
Thankfully, this back entrance was secluded. Otherwise, Shiratorizawa would've been utterly humiliated.
Ryosuke rubbed his backside and looked up to see the towering Reon and Ushijima.
Tsutomu Goshiki didn't look embarrassed at all. He clung to the seats by the back door, standing on tiptoe to watch, waving at the other two.
"Hurry! It's not over! 31:30—Aobajosai's leading!"
"That intense?!" Ryosuke hurried over to watch.
Reon scanned the court in confusion. Not many teams could push Aobajosai to three sets. Date Tech and Wakutani had both been knocked out. Who was this?
Karasuno…?
He stared at the players in black uniforms, frowning slightly. Never heard of them. They're this strong?
Ushijima, seeing it was Aobajosai's match, stepped over as well. He squeezed in with the others.
Pressed up beside Ushijima, Tsutomu Goshiki looked like he might combust from happiness, a suspicious blush spreading across his face.
Reon eventually squeezed in too.
And so, in the back row of the stands, Shiratorizawa stood neatly in a line—secretly watching.
Kageyama stared at the scoreboard.
Just one more point… and they would lose.
He drew a deep breath. Hinata had already looped around to the backcourt for his run-up. The opposing blockers were waiting.
By the third set, everyone's stamina had dipped.
Kageyama swallowed against the dryness in his throat and fixed his eyes on Hinata's approach.
This position. This angle. Perfect.
He set the ball.
It rose precisely to Hinata's optimal hitting point.
Eyes closed, Hinata swung with all his strength and landed.
"Smack—"
But it wasn't the sound of the ball hitting the floor.
At the very spot Hinata attacked, Hanamaki and Matsukawa had finally found the flaw in the Freak Quick. Together, they sealed the block.
"Beeeeep—"
"Ohhhhh Aobajosai!"
"Aobajosai! Unrivaled!
Aobajosai! Invincible!"
Aobajosai was swallowed by a sea of cheers.
Oikawa shot a provocative look toward Karasuno's side, where faces had gone pale.
Kageyama stood frozen.
How…?
The final ball… had been blocked.
Behind him, his seniors looked defeated. Hinata looked like he was about to cry.
Only then did it sink in.
They had really lost.
Hinata blamed himself. If he had opened his eyes during that spike, maybe it wouldn't have been blocked. How could the Freak Quick—at such a crucial moment—be cracked so easily?
If only he had been stronger. Worked harder.
He clenched his fists, nails biting into his palms.
Daichi forced himself to pull Hinata back and lead the team to bow.
He knew that aside from Kageyama, Hinata was the one blaming himself most.
But they had already done incredibly well. Many factors had led to this loss.
Ryosuke stayed until both teams bowed to the audience before leaving with the others.
Reon sighed quietly over that final rally. Thanks to Tsutomu Goshiki's nonstop chatter, he now understood what the Freak Quick was—and he couldn't help feeling regret.
A dark horse and a long-standing powerhouse. Each team had its own strengths.
No matter who lost, it would feel like a shame.
Right now, Karasuno wasn't yet on Aobajosai's level.
But given time, they would grow quickly.
To push Aobajosai to three sets and thirty points…
The crows were already spreading their wings.
The afternoon matches ended quickly. Reon and Ushijima had come out to find the others; the rest had gone to eat or back to the dorms.
Ryosuke headed home alone after saying goodbye at the intersection.
Kicking a small stone along the road, he hesitated before pulling out his phone.
He had seen it clearly from the stands—Hinata's sadness.
He typed a message.
Cat Hero: Hinata~ Come watch my match tomorrow? Afterward, let's go eat unagi-yaki!
Ryosuke wasn't good with words. On the court, he could talk endlessly. But comforting someone? All he could manage was a dry "Don't be sad," which sounded hollow.
So instead, he'd treat Hinata to what he thought was the most delicious food.
Good food could bring happiness.
He wasn't worried Hinata would stay down for long. He'd seen the longing and excitement in his eyes whenever he watched volleyball from the sidelines.
Looking at the contact labeled "Little Sun," Ryosuke suddenly realized—
Somewhere along the way, Hinata had become a very important friend.
He'd met Hinata only a few minutes earlier than the rest of Karasuno.
So why did they get along so well?
Ah…
Dark clouds were gathering overhead.
Ryosuke quickened his pace. The forecast hadn't mentioned rain.
He had a match tomorrow. Catching a cold would be disastrous.
When he ran, he moved like a light breeze, stirring petals along the roadside.
…
It took him just over ten minutes to reach home.
Feeling sticky with sweat, he pinched his nose and went to shower.
By the time he came out, rain was pouring down outside. It drummed against the windows, the scent of wet concrete filling the air.
Good thing he made it back in time.
Otherwise, he'd be soaked.
He grabbed a cold Coke from the fridge, closed the window slowly, and went upstairs.
Coach Washijō and Grandma weren't home. Only at times like this could he secretly drink soda.
Life was hard.
"Ding ding…"
He had just crawled into bed when his phone rang.
"Little Sun" flashed across the screen.
He answered immediately.
"Hinata!"
"..."
Silence.
He could faintly hear other Karasuno members talking, the rain outside, and Hinata's breathing.
Ryosuke didn't rush him. He knew Hinata probably needed time.
After a long while, the quiet broke into soft, shaky sobs.
"I… Ryosuke… we lost… w-we lost…"
"I feel so awful…"
Hinata sniffed loudly. "That last spike… if I'd just opened my eyes…"
He was crouched in the hallway, crying quietly.
He didn't even know why he had called Ryosuke. Maybe he just needed somewhere to let it out.
His partner always wore a scowl. Crying in front of him would probably earn mockery.
He couldn't cry in front of Tsukishima either. That sharp-tongued guy would definitely say something cutting.
And he didn't want to lose face in front of his seniors.
After thinking it through, Ryosuke was the only one he could cry to.
Almost without thinking, after seeing the message Ryosuke had sent, Hinata had dialed his number.
...
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