The arena fell into a brief silence.
"That move looked familiar…"
The players from Aoba Johsai glanced at Hinata Shoyo down on the court, then at Akashi Asuka beside them. If they remembered correctly, that quick-hit after receiving, the "first-touch spike" Hinata just used, was something a certain someone used to favor quite a bit.
Akashi Asuka himself was equally stunned.
He knew exactly what that move was. Hinata had just pulled off the very technique Akashi used to rely on back in the day: a direct attack off a serve receive. Though it wasn't anything formal enough to be called a "skill," the style and timing Hinata used were uncannily similar to Akashi's own.
"Damn… When did I drop a skill book somewhere?"
Akashi knew Karasuno's players were good at picking up moves from others, but this was a little too fast, wasn't it?
────────── ✦ ──────────
Meanwhile, Karasuno's players were just as shocked by Hinata's final point.
That kind of play just didn't seem like something the current Hinata could pull off. Yes, everyone on the team had improved significantly over the summer, but Hinata and Tsukishima still had some fundamental gaps they hadn't quite filled yet.
"Nice one, Shoyo!"
"How did you know they could receive that?"
"That was brilliant!"
Regardless of the surprise, Hinata had just scored a crucial point. The team rushed over to cheer and praise him, leaving Hinata rubbing his head sheepishly.
"Haha… Honestly, I just suddenly remembered a play I saw Akashi from Aoba Johsai do once," Hinata explained with a grin. "So I figured I'd try it, and I guess it worked."
With that point, Karasuno managed to force the match into a third set.
────────── ✦ ──────────
But as soon as the third set began, Karasuno ran into major trouble.
Stamina.
After two sets of intense, high-speed rallying, their physical endurance was taking a serious hit.
Fitness is the kind of attribute that doesn't always show in normal practice, but once you step into a real high-stakes match, the difference between a strong team and a weak one becomes painfully clear.
Even Aoba Johsai had once paid the price for poor stamina during Nationals.
Karasuno, truthfully, wasn't even considered a powerhouse yet. The reason they'd been able to put on such a strong showing this year was thanks to the arrival of their first-year duo: Hinata and Kageyama. They'd added a much-needed element of surprise and explosiveness to the team.
But for the rest of Karasuno's second- and third-years, the training they'd done over the past few years simply didn't measure up to the standards of elite teams.
Smack!
A spike from Goshiki soared past Karasuno's defense and slammed into their court.
Shiratorizawa scored again.
The third set had barely begun, but the score was already 3–5, with Shiratorizawa in the lead.
Karasuno tried to strike back. Hinata's decoy presence was still a threat, after all, the title of "Ultimate Decoy" doesn't stop being effective just because the opponent knows it's a decoy.
A true decoy is someone the opponent knows is bait… but can't help chasing anyway.
Using Hinata to pull away one of the blockers, Asahi Azumane faced a single blocker on the other side and unleashed a powerful spike. While Asahi might not be in the same monstrous tier as Ushijima or Akashi, his raw power still ranked among the nation's best.
One blocker simply wasn't enough to stop him.
The ball easily tore through the front-row defense,
But just before it could hit the ground, a player from the back row suddenly darted in. It was as if he'd predicted the spike's path from the start and was already waiting for it.
"That's… coordinated defense!"
Kageyama froze for a second.
Defensive linkage between front and back row players wasn't some rare elite technique, but it did require excellent coordination and communication. Many teams used this kind of tactic to cover up defensive holes.
But the surprising part was that this wasn't just any team.
This was Shiratorizawa.
Sure, Shiratorizawa could coordinate… but their tactics had always been built around showcasing individual strength. Yet the technique they'd just used was purely a team-based defense maneuver.
"Well, would you look at that… those Shiratorizawa bastards are finally learning to play like a team," Oikawa Tooru muttered with a smirk as he watched from the stands.
He was right.
That technique had been borrowed directly from Aoba Johsai's playbook. In the past, Shiratorizawa would've scoffed at such a defensive move. Their entire team philosophy rested on two principles:
Support Ushijima Wakatoshi.
Maximize individual strengths.
Win through absolute power, that was the Shiratorizawa way.
Until… well, they got schooled.
Think back to their training camp by the sea, where they had to face off against opponents like:
Aoba Johsai
Mujinazaka
Itachiyama
In terms of individual ability, none of those schools were weaker than Shiratorizawa.
Even Ushijima himself, Shiratorizawa's pride and joy, seemed almost average when stacked against the star players of those other teams. After all, being a national-level ace wasn't exactly rare anymore.
And the other schools?
They didn't just have top aces, they had entire rosters of elite players.
Like:
Itachiyama's #1 libero in the nation, Motoya Komori
Mujinazaka's Twin Towers
Aoba Johsai's genius setter, Oikawa Tooru
Compared to them…
Shiratorizawa, the once-feared titan of Miyagi, suddenly felt a bit average.
Aside from Ushijima, the rest of the team, while certainly not weak, just couldn't match up. Even Tendo Satori, known for his eerie instincts, still had a noticeable gap compared to national-caliber players.
And while Goshiki had potential, he hadn't yet fully bloomed.
So in the end, Shiratorizawa had no choice but to adapt, not to change their entire philosophy, but to add a few new tools to their arsenal.
If the eagle wanted to hunt smarter, it needed more than brute strength.
Score: 6–3.
The gap between Shiratorizawa and Karasuno widened.
Coach Ukai had no choice but to call a timeout, giving his players a much-needed breather.
────────── ✦ ──────────
When the game resumed, Shiratorizawa quickly noticed something strange in Karasuno's lineup.
The loud, bald-headed player had been subbed out, and in his place stood a slightly slender boy most of them didn't recognize.
"Huh? Who's that?"
Shiratorizawa's assistant coach raised an eyebrow. He couldn't recall this player ever being featured in their previous game footage. The kid had barely played at all during matches.
And not just in high school, even in pro-level play, the fewer appearances a player had, the weaker they usually were.
After all, if someone was good, no coach would leave them on the bench.
"Why would Karasuno put someone like that on the court now?" he muttered.
What exactly was Karasuno planning?
=============
Completed version available on Patreon.com/Veltoria