In an instant, all of Kousen Academy instinctively leaned back or crouched, trying to evade the attack-like aura that Ichinose Guren had just released at them.
Kousen's number seven spiker's Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he tugged at his collar.
"What the… what's with that? It's a sunny day, but it feels like I just got poked by ice."
He fanned himself with his hands, feeling a chill sweat forming on his stomach. After doing a few things, he wiped the sweat through his shirt.
"Cold sweat just broke out… don't even know why."
Kousen's number one laughed and waved his hand, sending a breeze over his forehead.
"Hahaha, yeah, my forehead's sweating too."
"Really? Haha…"
They exchanged an awkward grin, then simultaneously turned away without looking back, clean, effortless, and stylish.
Soon after, they started whispering.
Number seven casually pulled number one closer, covering his mouth with his hand.
"The number one on the other team… something's off."
Number one narrowed his eyes.
"Don't say nonsense. What could be wrong?"
"I don't know… he's strong. Strong enough to make me break out in cold sweat."
The seven looked at the beads of sweat on his hand and shoulders.
"Huh? You too?"
Number one was shocked. He had thought he was the only one who felt the aura from that guy.
"Keep your voice down. Maybe no one else felt it. From now on, the two of us keep an eye on him."
Realizing his earlier question might have alerted their teammates, number one sheepishly chuckled and tried to play it off.
It worked. Their teammates returned to discussing their next play.
The two players, struck by Ichinose Guren's aura, became noticeably cautious.
Ichinose quietly observed the two whispering and smiled to himself, another small plan had worked.
Just like the previous break of serve, this was another fast, sudden point. Kousen reclaimed the serve from Yukigaoka with a diagonal shot from their number one middle blocker.
With the serve now in Kousen's hands, their morale surged. Fourth-year main player Nagamatsu Yumeto stepped into the serving zone.
"Score directly! Yumeto!"
Number one at the front row covered the back of his head with his hands, letting out a sharp yell with a click of the tongue.
The other two front-row players instinctively covered their heads, they knew Yumeto's powerful jump serve was fierce, and at 189 cm, the ball could still hit them if misjudged.
Without a motivating yell like the captain's, they focused on guarding their heads.
Taking a deep breath, Yumeto lightly tossed the ball, lowered his center of gravity, and took four long steps forward. With a sudden lift from his thighs, his body rose into the air.
His back and core muscles contracted instantly as his right hand sliced through the air, smashing the ball.
Carrying Kousen's hopes, the ball shot straight toward Yukigaoka's backcourt.
Yukigaoka's backcourt, essentially a defensive fortress, stood ready.
On the left was the dedicated receiver Hoshino Katsuri, on the right, the instinctive receiver Yudai Shoyo. In the center was Suzuki, who, outside of synchronized training, had spent every moment practicing receiving.
With guidance from Hoshino and Ichinose Guren's highly reliable basic techniques, along with a high-end reception machine, Suzuki's anticipation was near perfect.
Judge first: left or right.
He read the server's body position and arm swing, accurately predicting the powerful jump serve would land closest to him.
"I got it!"
He shouted, shifted his center of gravity, and lunged rapidly toward the right-front spot.
The timing and steps were to give him enough time to perform a solid reception. The completeness of the reception directly affected the quality of the first pass.
"Bang!"
The volleyball shot up into the air, and Suzuki rolled backward, perfectly dissipating the force. The ball obeyed, rising exactly where it should, a great first pass.
"Nice pass!"
Everyone watched the ball arc through the air, expressions varying.
Nagamatsu clicked his tongue, unsatisfied that his serve didn't score directly or disrupt the pass.
Mori, however, focused on the ball, praising it loudly.
It was a perfect pass: stable, solid, and precise. No extra steps needed, Mori could simply analyze both teams' formations.
No gaps!
As expected from a team that reached the finals, Yukigaoka had suppressed a nearly top-tier team from Kitagawa Daiichi, earning their spot at nationals.
The positions haven't wavered at all. The 180 cm middle blocker is right at the net with me; the other two perfectly execute a dispersed formation.
Damn! My current position is tightly constrained.
Mori, near the net, could feel the searing gaze of Kousen's middle blocker, never averting for even a second.
Two of the four offensive options in his mind were eliminated: Yudai's backcourt attack and his own next attack.
Only options now are to deliver strong spikes to Yudai or Ichinose. Fast attack from this position is impossible.
As Mori observed the weaker side for attack, Ichinose raised his right hand and shouted:
"Pass to the left, Asan!!"
The three exchanged glances.
Mori didn't hesitate. Receiving Ichinose's signal, he sent a slightly higher arc.
The middle blocker immediately reacted, rushing toward the sidelines despite the fast pass.
Ichinose took a running start and jumped with one foot.
The three front blockers jumped in perfect sync.
"Come on!"
"Come on?"
"Come?"
They froze, dumbfounded. Ichinose had deliberately slowed his approach by two steps, manipulating his timing to easily trick the three blockers into the air.
From the ground, Ichinose tilted his head, smiling innocently. He quickly adjusted, leapt, and struck the ball into an undefended area, scoring easily.
When overly focused on an attacker, players naturally ignore the ball's trajectory. At the net, fake motions, plus Yudai's directional change, enabled a pro-level deceptive speed change.
The blocked players, furious, could do nothing as Ichinose teased them.
"Remember to watch the ball. Keep your hands high. Don't jump recklessly, classmates."
The three thrashed in frustration, huffing, but utterly helpless.
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