"Bang!"
"Beeeeep—"
The ball dropped into midcourt, still a bit short of where Watari could reach it. His diving fingertips missed by just a hair, and Goshiki successfully tied the score.
"Nice! Goshiki!" Ryosuke was a little surprised by Goshiki's performance. He'd finally stabilized. Looks like Goshiki's start-up system really is a bit slow.
"Great job!"
Goshiki's face flushed bright red at the praise, his chest puffing up proudly.
Hanamaki helped Watari up from the floor.
"It's fine. We'll get that one back next point."
Watari rubbed the knee he'd banged on the floor and nodded. Being the libero in this match was pure suffering. Shiratorizawa's serves were all brutal, one after another. Watari felt like his stamina was almost gone.
Goshiki jumped again with the volleyball in hand and served.
"Bang!"
This time Watari saw it clearly. He sprinted toward Oikawa's position and planted himself right in the ball's path.
"Bang!" Watari lifted his nearly exhausted arms and finally ended Goshiki's serving run.
Oikawa stood right behind him and didn't even need to move. Tilting his head back, he set the ball with his fingertips, planning to repeat the same trick—stretch the block with a long, flat quick attack.
Out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly noticed Ryosuke's eerie green eyes staring straight at him through the net.
Oikawa twitched at the sight. Being stared at like that without warning was honestly a little creepy.
In that instant, the idea of using the long flat quick vanished from his mind. He'd used that move too many times already. Ryosuke definitely wouldn't fall for it again.
Then how about a fake set into a real spike?
Oikawa deliberately guided Ryosuke's gaze toward Iwaizumi, pretending to set a long flat quick when in reality he was setting up his own second attack.
In a split second, his left fingers flicked the volleyball up.
Seeing Oikawa's impromptu move at the net, Ryosuke snorted.
Not falling for that. I'm blocking.
With a sharp "shua," Ryosuke jumped straight up at the net.
Goshiki, seeing Ryosuke jump, had learned his lesson. Wherever Ryosuke blocked, he blocked too.
He stepped sideways and jumped as well.
"Bang!"
"Smack!"
Oikawa's shot was slightly off-angle and slammed right into Goshiki's arm. Ryosuke had originally intended to shift his hands, but Goshiki suddenly appeared and perfectly sealed the angle.
Oikawa's second attack died on the spot.
"BEEEEEP—"
"Ha!" Oikawa laughed in exasperation. He didn't even know why he'd suddenly gone for a second attack just now. Those little tricks didn't fool Ryosuke anymore. The moment he had the idea, Ryosuke's block snuffed it out.
For once, Oikawa actually started reflecting on his own impulsiveness.
Ryosuke and Goshiki exchanged a tacit high-five.
The camera broadcasting the finals captured the moment perfectly.
Smiling with his eyes, Ryosuke said to Goshiki,
"That's it. If you don't know where to block, just jump when I do."
Goshiki clutched the arm he'd just used to block, looking eager to try again.
"Woooooo! Ryosuke! That felt amazing!" Goshiki started yelling again in excitement.
Behind them, Reon nodded with satisfaction.
Good. No need to worry about the kid getting psychologically crushed anymore.
Having Ryosuke at the net really was reassuring. Tendō was dependable too, but he relied entirely on instinct and sometimes whiffed blocks. Ryosuke's style—instinct combined with rational judgment—brought a whole new dimension to Shiratorizawa's blocking.
Shirabu glanced at Reon's expression and quickly looked away.
He absolutely refused to admit that Reon's "proud father" aura had nearly blinded him.
"...Huh." Tsukishima frowned, studying Ryosuke's blocking carefully.
Number six's blocking was precise to a weird degree. How did he read it?
On that last play, even if number eight hadn't jumped out, it still could've been stopped. The left hand sealed the front-row second-attack route while the right hand left a deliberate opening—then closed the trap at the last moment.
What kind of brain does this guy have?
Tsukishima's brows twisted together as he thought about it. Watching him, Yamaguchi quietly smiled.
Tsukishima really was the classic case of saying one thing while doing another—complaining out loud but unable to stop analyzing the blocks in his head.
The score now stood at 22:21.
That last point had allowed Shiratorizawa to take the lead. Now they were fighting for set point.
Both teams' offensive rhythm grew noticeably faster.
Without saying it out loud, everyone understood—it was time for full-power offense.
At a moment like this, Shiratorizawa's advantage of having a true ace became obvious. Even if the others were getting tired, Ushijima hadn't used much energy in the previous rallies. His stamina bar was still full.
"Bang!"
Ushijima's spike shattered Aobajosai's block. Watari rushed forward to receive it but sent the ball flying.
"Beeep—"
23:21.
"Bang!"
Oikawa set the ball and Aobajosai launched a layered attack. Kunimi slipped through the crowd and scored with a diagonal shot.
"Beeep—"
23:22.
"Bang!"
Oikawa tossed the ball for his serve. Yamagata received it, Reon supported the attack, and Ushijima spiked left-handed.
"Beeep—"
24:22.
Ryosuke walked to the service line with the ball in his arms.
Now it was his turn to finish the set.
Seeing Ryosuke step up to serve, both Oikawa and Watari felt their hearts sink.
They hated to admit it, but Ryosuke's serve had truly become their biggest headache.
"End them in one ball!" Reon said, unusually fired up.
Goshiki stood in place shouting encouragement for Ryosuke. His expression made Ryosuke laugh.
Ryosuke suddenly felt how lucky he was to have teammates like these.
He tossed the ball.
The familiar sideways stance toward the net.
At that moment, Ryosuke felt incredibly calm—almost as if he already knew the ball would score.
"Bang!"
His right hand curved like a scoop as it wrapped around the ball and struck hard. The medicated patch on his shoulder was still warm, but the motion felt unbelievably smooth.
A perfect arc.
High-speed spin.
It was a flawless serve.
Watari had still been clinging to a bit of hope—maybe Ryosuke would make another mistake…
Reality quickly proved that hope wrong.
Watari braced himself miserably for the incoming ball. Hanamaki and Matsukawa had already stepped aside.
Watari thought desperately:
Even if you move, it won't help! I seriously can't receive this!
Sure enough, the spinning ball curved down like a missile and smashed straight into the floor.
"Bang!"
For a moment Watari thought he was hallucinating.
Otherwise why would the volleyball look like it was smoking on the ground?
Hallucination… definitely a hallucination.
"Beeep—"
The whistle snapped him back to reality.
They'd lost the set.
Watari couldn't help feeling frustrated.
Before he could even apologize to his teammates, Shiratorizawa's cheering squad exploded in celebration, drowning out his voice completely.
"Shiratorizawa!"
"Champions!"
"Shiratorizawa!"
"Champions!"
Someone even waved a conductor's baton to lead the chant.
Ryosuke stood beneath the cheers with a smile, but his thoughts were somewhere else entirely.
Uh oh… I used too much force just now. My arm kind of hurts.
Also… our school's cheering squad is ridiculously arrogant.
Senior Oikawa must be furious enough to pass out.
"Let's go, Ryosuke. Still daydreaming?"
Reon slung an arm around Ryosuke's neck as he passed and dragged him off the court.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ryosuke saw Oikawa looking so angry his face had practically twisted. Ryosuke chuckled and followed Reon off.
"So amazing! So amazing! So amazing!"
Goshiki had practically worn those words out.
He genuinely thought his teammate was incredible. One "shua" spike, one "bang," and the point was over.
All of Goshiki's admiration for Ushijima had now transferred directly to Ryosuke.
Ryosuke grabbed Goshiki, who was spinning around excitedly, and pulled him off the court.
Coach Washijō sat upright in his chair with his hands folded and gave a dry comment.
"That last serve was good."
Ryosuke grinned so widely his eyes disappeared, his cat-like eyes curving into full crescent moons.
The broadcast camera captured the moment perfectly.
The ruthless player who would one day dominate the professional court also had a youthful side like this.
Washijō clicked his tongue and turned away.
That brat sure looks happy.
"And Goshiki! If you had this level all along, what were you doing in the earlier sets? Look at the mess you were playing! I'm not settling it now, but we'll talk after the match!"
The more Washijō spoke, the more worked up he became. He thought again about Ryosuke pushing himself to keep serving despite his condition.
That made him even angrier.
Ryosuke ended up getting scolded again for no reason.
"And Reon too! Oikawa's second attack could've been saved! Why were you standing there like a giant statue? Decoration? And you, Ryosuke! You little brat! Don't you know your own limits? Forcing yourself like that—let me tell you…"
Washijō unleashed his ultimate technique: nonstop lecturing.
When he scolded Ryosuke, his voice was noticeably louder.
From Goshiki to Reon.
From Ryosuke to Yamagata.
The entire group got blasted.
Only two people escaped.
Shirabu stood behind Ushijima, watching the others get scolded with pure schadenfreude. His shoulders shook as he tried to hold back his laughter, but a small sound still slipped out.
"Pfft…"
Yamagata and the others immediately looked up at him.
Yamagata opened his mouth, clearly about to drag Shirabu into the mess.
Seeing the flames about to spread in his direction, Ushijima quietly stepped in front of Shirabu and glared at Yamagata.
Ushijima wasn't protecting Shirabu.
He was just worried that if things escalated, he'd get dragged in too and everyone would be wiped out.
Coach Washijō's lung capacity was terrifying. Once he started, his mouth simply didn't stop.
Yamagata looked like a resentful spouse as he withdrew his gaze.
Even Kawanishi, who had been watching the show from the side, couldn't help laughing.
The advisor teacher watched the whole chaotic scene with amusement.
Any one of these players could carry a team on their own. Yet when they were all together, it was like their collective IQ dropped.
He wasn't even sure if this group had the maturity of three-year-olds.
...
On Aobajosai's side, the atmosphere wasn't particularly tense.
They still had two sets left.
Which meant there was still a chance to turn the match around.
If they could win the last two sets…
Oikawa sat with a towel over his head, quietly plotting how to outplay those dense Shiratorizawa birds.
Hanamaki slumped beside him, practically sliding off his chair. In this match, Hanamaki had probably done the most running on the court.
Acting as bait to pull the blockers away.
Occasionally helping Watari receive.
Sometimes filling in as a setter.
And every now and then Oikawa would send him a set so he could spike.
Thinking about it all nearly brought Hanamaki to tears.
Seeing him so exhausted, Matsukawa wanted badly to laugh at him, but in the end he couldn't bring himself to do it.
Instead he poked the nearly lifeless Hanamaki.
"After the match, I'll treat you to cream puffs."
That finally got a reaction.
Hanamaki snorted.
"Definitely suspicious. What are you plotting? Poison?"
Matsukawa exploded.
"Hey!"
Hanamaki casually dug at his ear, completely unmoved.
Oikawa gathered everyone together to discuss the next set.
"I talked with the coach just now. In the fourth set, Kyotani will switch in for Hanamaki."
He looked toward Hanamaki, who looked slightly surprised.
"Hanamaki will rest in the fourth set and come back in the fifth."
As soon as he said that, the atmosphere grew quiet.
Iwaizumi, who always valued stability, spoke first.
"I don't mind. In this situation, we have to take a gamble."
He trusted every decision Oikawa made without question.
Oikawa grinned.
"I knew you'd agree, Iwa."
Kunimi shrugged.
Matsukawa's expression, however, was far from pleasant.
Leaving aside the fact that he and Hanamaki had been partners for so long…
There was also Kyotani.
He looked toward Kentaro Kyotani, who stood by the bench.
Matsukawa really disliked that guy.
When Oikawa first brought him into the volleyball club, he had confidently declared that Kyotani would become Aobajosai's strongest weapon.
That part was true.
But Kyotani was a rebellious mad dog.
Like a wild dog that bit anything it saw—even teammates weren't spared.
During a previous practice match, Kyotani had stolen a ball Oikawa set to Hanamaki and slammed straight into him. They scored the point, but nobody liked how vicious he played.
Matsukawa had watched him grow more arrogant with each practice match.
Oikawa always seemed to turn a blind eye, almost encouraging Kyotani to fight teammates for the ball during games.
Kyotani was a wild dog that couldn't be domesticated.
He had previously played with another club, but his overly aggressive style forced a choice: either he left, or the teammates did.
Those teams didn't have Aobajosai's tolerance.
To them, Kyotani was an outlier.
Matsukawa stared at Kentaro Kyotani with undisguised dislike.
Kyotani noticed and glanced back briefly before looking away again.
He wasn't worried at all.
Because he knew that in this match, Oikawa would need him.
He needed to become the blade that tore open the stalemate.
Matsukawa argued for quite a while.
Hanamaki tugged at his sleeve, signaling him not to make things awkward.
"…I don't object. But if anything goes wrong, he comes off immediately."
Matsukawa said the last sentence firmly.
By "anything," he meant incidents like the practice match where fighting for the ball caused a teammate to get hurt.
He would never allow something like that to happen again.
Oikawa, who had been slightly tense, finally relaxed and slung an arm around Matsukawa's neck.
"Relax. I've already trained Kyotani properly. He hasn't played much lately. Nothing like that will happen this time."
Oikawa spoke with such confidence that Matsukawa didn't argue further.
Oikawa understood something clearly.
Shiratorizawa was like a calm, powerful sea.
Steady. Unshakable. Always the same.
A towering tree couldn't stir waves on the ocean.
Kyotani was the one who could break that calm.
He was the mad dog Oikawa desperately wanted to tame.
Could Kentaro Kyotani really break this stalemate?
Oikawa was thinking about it.
The coach was thinking about it.
Everyone on Aobajosai's team was thinking about it.
"Beeeeep—"
The whistle blew.
The fourth set had begun.
...
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