Shiratorizawa's service run had come to an end. So much had happened in that single rally that everyone was still trying to process it.
"Aaah! That rally was incredible! I can't believe I didn't record it!"
Konoha clutched at his hair in frustration, looking ready to tear it out.
Hirugami walked over and patted him on the shoulder.
"It's fine. Itachiyama recorded it. We can all watch the video later."
"Really?"
Konoha's eyes lit up as he stared at Hirugami.
Hirugami's lips curved into a smile, an unreadable glint in his eyes.
In truth, Itachiyama had never said they would let everyone watch the video later. Hirugami simply wanted to see it himself.
By the time he had snapped out of his daze and thought to start recording, the rally was already over. After glancing around, Hirugami noticed that Sakusa was the only person in the surrounding seats holding up his phone to film the court below.
Hirugami raised an eyebrow and followed Sakusa's gaze. Sure enough, it led straight to Ryosuke, who was celebrating with his teammates, his face glowing with a brilliant smile.
Surrounded by everyone, the boy radiated joy from every feature. His eyes sparkled like stars. He was clearly someone everyone adored.
Hirugami immediately understood. He knew Sakusa did not seem like the type to record a match.
Still, that did not matter. As long as he had recorded it, that was enough.
There was just one problem. Hirugami was not particularly close to Sakusa, so he had no idea how to ask him for the video. Sakusa was not known for being especially approachable either, and Hirugami had no desire to face that sour expression of his.
Then he heard Konoha shouting.
After a brief pause, Hirugami's eyes curved into a foxlike smile.
What perfect timing.
Konoha's intelligence only seemed to peak when he was playing volleyball. Off the court, it plunged into a valley deep enough to rival Bokuto's. He had no idea what Hirugami was plotting. In fact, he had already mentally labeled Hirugami a good guy.
Poor Konoha.
Everyone's attention returned to the court.
Osamu Miya's last play had ended Shiratorizawa's service run, which meant it was now Inarizaki's turn to serve.
Their most prolific server, Atsumu Miya, had rotated out. Now it was the turn of their other prolific server, Osamu Miya.
Twin brothers really were something else. Whatever the older brother could do, the younger could do too, and vice versa.
Double the firepower.
"Samu, give 'em a good one! Show 'em what you've got!"
His older brother's childish voice rang in Osamu Miya's ears.
Osamu Miya nodded at Atsumu Miya and called back loudly, "Leave it to me!"
Osamu Miya might have looked steadier than Atsumu Miya, but there was no denying that the brothers were cut from the same cloth.
They were both more than a little cocky.
Osamu Miya stepped up to the service line, spinning the volleyball in his hand as he looked toward Yamagata on the other side of the court.
Atsumu Miya had already tested him earlier. An ordinary serve, or even an above-average one, would not trouble Yamagata. A powerful jump serve relying on brute force alone would not work either.
After all, he was Shiratorizawa's libero.
In that case, there seemed to be only one way to stop Yamagata from receiving it.
He had to make the serve unpredictable and difficult to read.
"Fweeeeeet!"
The referee's whistle pulled Osamu Miya back to the present.
Music began playing once again from the cheering section behind him.
Osamu Miya frowned impatiently. He genuinely found it annoying when music played during someone's serve.
Atsumu Miya, that idiot, did not agree. He thought it was incredibly cool. He had even told Osamu Miya with an excited expression, "Don't ya think it's awesome? I walk out with the music playing, then I clench my fist before I serve and the music stops. It's like the main character making his entrance in an anime. It looks so damn cool!"
Osamu Miya did not understand it, but he respected his brother's vanity.
Right now, though, the music was nothing but irritating.
He did his best to tune out the noise behind him and raised the volleyball. The moment he did, the music stopped.
He tossed the ball into the air.
Osamu Miya looked up at it, lowered his center of gravity, took his approach, and jumped.
The volleyball hung directly before his eyes.
For now, he could not think of any perfect way to defeat the opposing libero.
He would just have to test him one step at a time.
Osamu Miya aimed for the space between Yamagata and Ryosuke in the backcourt, hoping to disrupt Shiratorizawa's first touch.
With his target decided, he rose into the air.
He concentrated all his strength into his right hand. A precise target did not mean the serve could afford to lack power.
"Bang!"
The volleyball shot toward Shiratorizawa's side.
As it passed Suna in the front row, he could practically feel the gust of wind trailing behind it.
It looked like Osamu Miya's weight training had paid off.
Despite the serve's tremendous power, none of its precision had been sacrificed.
Once it crossed the net, the ball dropped sharply toward the space between Yamagata and Ryosuke.
Watching from the sidelines, Tendo could not help but marvel at Osamu Miya's choice of target.
That Inarizaki wing spiker really knew where to place a serve.
The ball would undoubtedly be received if it landed there. If Yamagata took it, Shiratorizawa would simply get a normal first touch.
But if Ryosuke received it, that first touch would become a set.
Ryosuke had a strange little habit when receiving. Most players were satisfied as long as they kept the ball in play. Ryosuke was different. Not only did he have to receive it, he had to send it perfectly to the target in one touch.
It sounded absurdly difficult.
Was that even something a human being could do?
Yet Ryosuke really could do it, and he did it remarkably well. Whenever even a single receive was less than perfect, he would feel uncomfortable all over.
That was why, whenever Shirabu wanted to slack off during regular practice, he would put Ryosuke in the libero position.
Then Shirabu could take it easy while watching Ryosuke race around the entire court like an overexcited puppy, throwing himself after every ball.
The sight filled Shirabu with immense satisfaction.
As a result, his relationship with Ryosuke improved by leaps and bounds during that period.
Ryosuke's eyes lit up when he saw the serve heading between him and Yamagata.
Osamu Miya-senpai really was a wonderful person.
Atsumu Miya fell silent when he saw where Osamu Miya had aimed.
A serve to that spot would not let Ryosuke score directly, of course.
Even so, Atsumu Miya found it troubling. If Ryosuke received the ball from there, the pace of the attack would accelerate dramatically.
Once this rally ended, he definitely needed to talk to Samu. Playing at that speed would exhaust everyone.
As he thought, Atsumu Miya adjusted his position. This ball would almost certainly be sent straight to one of the wing spikers for an attack.
He had already begun tracking his target, preparing to direct the block.
On Shiratorizawa's side, Ryosuke and Yamagata exchanged a glance.
Yamagata immediately stepped aside.
Well, if the kid wanted the ball, he could have it. Yamagata trusted Ryosuke's ability.
When Ryosuke saw Yamagata willingly give him the space, he happily lowered himself into a receiving stance.
He extended both arms and steadied his weight through his lower body.
"Thud!"
The volleyball struck his arms with a crisp sound.
Just from that sound, Yamagata knew it was a good receive.
The instant the ball made contact, Ryosuke adjusted the angle of his arms.
He directed it toward Ushijima and Tsutomu Goshiki in the front row, sending it straight to the setter's position.
Ryosuke had once lacked the necessary strength. His receives would often fall short before reaching the ideal spot.
After all his training, however, his arm strength had improved enormously.
Ushijima and Tsutomu Goshiki had remained in the front row. Reon stood behind and to the right of Tsutomu Goshiki, apparently ready to cover the attack.
When Shirabu saw Ryosuke send the ball directly to the setter's position, he happily followed behind Reon and began taking it easy.
Being able to slack off in a match like this was proof of the team's strength.
After receiving the ball, Ryosuke ran toward the front row to prepare for the next block.
Tendo watched Ryosuke's play and smiled.
Little Ryosuke really had improved tremendously.
Although Ryosuke could turn a first touch directly into a set, he could not be trusted to act as the setter during an actual match.
Whenever Ryosuke tried to set normally, it was as if a cat had scooped out his brain stem. He simply could not place the ball correctly. Every set was slightly off.
No one understood why.
He could make an astonishingly precise first touch from any distance, yet the moment he tried to set the ball deliberately, everything fell apart.
That was why the coach had stopped using Ryosuke as a setter in later practice matches. He was only asked to handle the first touch when necessary.
A player who could receive the ball perfectly but became a complete disaster when asked to set it.
It was hard to tell whether he was incredible or terrible.
No one knew what Tendo was thinking, but Osamu Miya was genuinely stunned.
He stared at the ball floating perfectly toward the net.
Did that kind of godlike spatial awareness really exist?
Ryosuke had received it from the backcourt.
It was ridiculous.
Even as those thoughts passed through his mind, Osamu Miya's feet never stopped moving.
Inarizaki reacted immediately. Suna moved toward Ushijima's side to form the block, while Atsumu Miya covered Tsutomu Goshiki on the other side.
The ball had been sent between Ushijima and Tsutomu Goshiki, but no one could yet tell who would attack it.
Until one of the hitters jumped, anything could happen.
Tsutomu Goshiki tilted his head as he watched the ball, then glanced at Ushijima beside him.
He wisely chose not to challenge for it.
Trying to take the ball when the ace was standing right beside him would be overstepping.
Ushijima looked at Tsutomu Goshiki, seemingly surprised by his decision.
He had no time to think about it, though. The volleyball was already directly above him.
Suna was in position, and Aran had joined him.
A double block.
Ushijima paid no attention to it.
In his mind, if he could drive the ball through, then the block might as well not exist.
He drew back his left arm and tightened his muscles, gathering power for the spike.
Suna and Aran extended their arms above the net.
They both knew they had almost no chance of stopping this ball.
Even if they could not block it outright, they had to make things difficult for Ushijima. Otherwise, their block truly would be nothing more than decoration.
Ushijima aimed for Suna's hands.
He drove all his strength through his left arm and hammered the volleyball downward.
"Bang!"
The ball slammed into Suna's palm.
It felt as though someone were trying to snap his hand in half. The tremendous force bent his palm backward as the ball began to fly past him.
Suna's expression twisted in pain.
Gritting his teeth, he tensed his arm and snapped his hand back at the last moment.
"Bang!"
The volleyball ricocheted off Suna's palm and flew toward the back of the court.
The touch had looked incredibly strained, but he had made contact.
"One touch!"
The moment Suna felt the ball fly off his hand, he shouted without hesitation.
The volleyball sailed away, looking certain to fly out of bounds.
Inarizaki could not afford to lose this rally.
No one needed to tell Akagi what to do. The instant he saw the ball flying away, he sprinted backward at full speed.
He had no other choice. If he was not fast enough, the point would be lost.
Whether he could actually reach it was another question entirely.
As the ball continued to fly farther away, Akagi quickened his steps.
He had to get there.
The volleyball was about to go out of bounds.
Akagi quickly scanned his surroundings and saw that no one was blocking his path.
He lowered his center of gravity as he ran, then hurled himself toward the floor in a full dive.
His right arm stretched out as far as possible, his palm pressed flat against the court.
Akagi looked up at the descending ball.
He could only hope it would land on the back of his hand.
Just as he hoped, the volleyball dropped sharply and struck his outstretched hand.
He did not even need to adjust the angle.
"Thud!"
The volleyball rebounded high into the air.
Akagi had kept it alive, but Ushijima's spike had been too powerful. Suna's block had also failed to reduce much of its force.
The same thing that had happened during their match against Fukurōdani happened again.
The first touch sent the ball completely out of system. There was no chance to run a proper attack.
"Atsumu Miya!"
Still sprawled awkwardly across the floor, Akagi shouted and looked toward Atsumu Miya.
"Coming, coming!"
Atsumu Miya took off running, cursing inwardly as he went.
How was he supposed to adjust to a ball like this?
This was asking too much of him.
Despite his complaints, his movements never slowed. As he ran, he considered who he should send the ball to.
In the blink of an eye, Atsumu Miya reached the spot where the volleyball was descending.
He tilted his head back to track it.
On his way over, he had estimated the distance between himself and his teammates. Only then did he realize just how far away he was from everyone else.
This was going to be troublesome.
That was the first thought that crossed Atsumu Miya's mind as he jumped.
Once he was in the air, he could see everyone's positions clearly.
Omimi-senpai and Aran had divided their roles perfectly. One was blocking Ryosuke's line of sight, while the other was keeping Reon occupied on the opposite side.
Atsumu Miya glanced toward Osamu Miya.
He was still crouched behind Aran, apparently planning to use him as a screen and deceive Reon.
Ryosuke's view was blocked as well.
This was the perfect opportunity to attack.
...
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