The match resumed. Tanaka's point broke the stiff tension on the court, but the gap on the scoreboard remained the same.
Before the timeout, Oikawa had racked up four points on his own. One point wasn't nearly enough to close that distance.
Kageyama stared at the scoreboard, lips pressed tight, anxiety gnawing at him. If he could just do a little more—there had to be a way to turn this around.
This was the burden every setter carried. As the team's command tower, Kageyama was still inexperienced. He couldn't put his thoughts into words. He didn't know how to communicate. The stubbornness and pride in his bones weren't things that could be shed overnight—let alone in just two months.
Across the net, Oikawa clearly caught the look on Kageyama's face and curled his lips into a faint smile. Sometimes he thought he was petty and cruel. But when he reminded himself it was all for the sake of victory, it didn't seem like such a big deal.
Azumane carried the ball to the service line. Jump. Swing.
"Bang!"
Watari dove forward, scooping the ball up cleanly with a backward sweep of his arm. The receive was flawless.
"Oikawa!"
"Coming!"
Who should I give this to? Oikawa wondered. How do I completely crush Little Tobio's fake composure and fighting spirit?
"Iwaizumi!" No matter what, Oikawa trusted Iwaizumi.
At the call, Iwaizumi moved behind Hanamaki on the left side—the perfect spot to spike from.
Tanaka and Hinata rushed in for the Block. Iwaizumi's technique far surpassed Hinata's. The ball clipped Hinata's fingertips and flew off course, but Nishinoya—who had been watching closely—managed to keep it alive.
"Bang!"
"I've got it!"
Kageyama heard Hinata's shout. Behind him, three blockers loomed, eyes fixed on him.
Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and Kindaichi stared so intently it felt like they could burn a hole through his back.
Hanamaki recalled Oikawa's words during the timeout: if that little number 10 called for the ball, someone had to mark him. Kindaichi and Matsukawa were responsible for the Block, so Hanamaki would track Hinata himself.
Hinata rushed in. Hanamaki sprang up, arms straight and firm.
Hinata still couldn't keep his eyes open while spiking. He cracked them open just a little—and immediately saw the wall of arms in front of him. His heart skipped, but the ball was already off his hand. It brushed past the blockers' fingertips and shot through.
Hanamaki could only watch as it slipped past his hands. Damn it. He'd known the little guy was fast—but not this fast. Head-on, there was no stopping him.
"Tsk."
"Sorry!" Hanamaki called out, frustrated.
Oikawa waved it off. "It's fine."
The ball crossed the net again. Watari moved to receive, thinking it would be easy—but the force behind it surprised him. He reacted too late.
He failed to absorb the impact, and the ball rebounded high into the air, drifting dangerously toward the net.
"Ah—sorry! Free ball!"
"Kageyama!"
"Oikawa!"
They shouted at the same time.
As the ball dropped between the Blocks, Kageyama and Oikawa jumped together. Four hands pressed down hard.
Oikawa gave a slight downward push with his palm.
"Smack."
The ball hit the floor.
Little Tobio… you still have a long way to go.
Kageyama landed off balance and fell onto the floor. His gaze fixed blankly on Oikawa's mismatched knee pads—something only Oikawa would wear. When he looked up, he met Oikawa's unreadable eyes.
Will I never beat him?
I want to defeat him. I want to become the "Best Setter." Why can't I?
Faster. Jump higher.
There's no way I'd lose.
Kageyama stood up, face dark. His expression must have looked frightening, because only Daichi stepped forward to pat his shoulder.
A substitution was called. Tsukishima held up the number board and stepped onto the court. Without Tsukishima, Karasuno's Block would crumble.
"Huh? Karasuno's setter doesn't look too good," Goshiki said, leaning over the railing.
Yunohama grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back. "That's dangerous, Goshiki!"
Goshiki pouted.
"Kageyama's pride is strong," Ryosuke said slowly, chin resting on his hand. "He probably can't stand the feeling of losing no matter what he does."
"Letting emotions control you on the court… that's not good."
Goshiki and Yunohama nodded. No one spoke again.
Both timeouts had already been used. Coach Ukai sat on the bench, anxiety twisting in his chest. He could tell something was off with Kageyama. The kid had fallen into his own spiral again. Now, it would come down to their own resolve.
The match continued. 23:19.
If Aobajosai scored one more point, the first set would be over.
Kageyama grew more and more restless.
Iwaizumi stepped up to serve and unleashed a powerful jump serve. Nishinoya received it perfectly, sending a clean pass straight to Kageyama.
It hovered right above his head.
Who? Who should he set to? How could he change the flow? Hinata? Azumane-senpai? Tsukishima?
Tsukishima.
To most people, he was just a middle blocker who focused on the Block. Their guard would be down. All eyes were on Hinata. Perfect.
Kageyama jumped, glancing toward Hinata. The naive Kindaichi took the bait and shifted toward Hinata.
But Hanamaki and Matsukawa were veterans. Their eyes never left Kageyama.
Fine. Staring won't help.
This point—we have to take it.
Kageyama set to Tsukishima.
Tsukishima froze for a split second before jumping instinctively. Midair, he realized something was wrong.
Too high.
That wasn't his usual contact height at all.
Kageyama froze too. He'd rushed it. The set was just a little too high… just a little…
Tsukishima can still hit it.
Jump higher. If you want to force it, jump higher!
But Tsukishima couldn't hear Kageyama's silent shout.
What feels dramatic in life isn't "I believe you can do it if you try."
It's "I really can't."
The set was beyond Tsukishima's usual range. He barely managed to brush the ball with his fingertips—only for Hanamaki and Matsukawa to stuff it straight down. A complete Block.
"Beeeeeep—!"
The first set ended.
"Seijoh! Seijoh! Supreme above all!"
"Maki! Maki! One more!"
Cheers roared from the stands. Karasuno's side sighed in frustration.
"It's fine! We'll get them next set!"
"Yeah, yeah."
Nishinoya and Daichi comforted the younger players.
Kageyama gripped his towel without lifting his head.
Ukai stepped in front of him, expression conflicted.
"Kageyama. Let Sugawara take the next set."
It felt like his heart had been crushed in someone's fist. Sweat poured down his face. For a moment, his hearing blurred—he could barely process the coach's words.
Memories from junior high surged up again. Panic. Helplessness. Disbelief.
After a moment of silence—just when everyone thought he might explode—Kageyama gave a heavy nod.
He didn't lose his temper?
Tsukishima found it almost unbelievable. The proud King had lowered his head. Rare indeed.
Over these past few months, Kageyama had come to understand Ukai's intentions. It was nothing more than giving him time to cool down—to watch the match from the outside. As long as he still had a chance to step back onto the court, it wasn't the end.
He clenched the towel so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"Kageyama doesn't look so good…" Yamaguchi muttered.
Hinata, passing by, grinned.
"Don't worry! Kageyama's not that fragile. He wants to win more than anyone. He'll get back up!"
Hinata didn't believe Kageyama was someone who'd fall over a small setback. After all—he was the King of the Court.
Oikawa thought back to the final point of the set and narrowed his eyes with a mischievous smile.
Kageyama… you've still got a long way to go.
"Beeeeep—"
The second set began.
When Oikawa stepped onto the court, he noticed Kageyama wasn't there. The setter now was a boy with a bright, easy smile—someone who hadn't played before.
Oikawa bounced the ball lightly.
Let's see what you've got, third-year setter.
Ryosuke blinked when Sugawara entered the court. Sugawara-senpai's style… huh… kind of similar to Oikawa-senpai's.
He glanced at the time—and shot to his feet.
Goshiki and Yunohama tilted their heads in sync. "What's wrong?"
"Let's go! We're about to assemble! If we don't leave now, we'll be late!"
The two of them jumped up at once.
"Why didn't you say so earlier?! We're dead!"
"Go, go, go!"
Yunohama grabbed his bag, only to see Ryosuke still packing at a snail's pace. Goshiki had already stuffed the volleyball into his bag, but Ryosuke was still fiddling around.
"Wait… I'm not done."
A vein throbbed on Yunohama's forehead. You were the one who stood up first—why are you the slowest now?
Goshiki and Yunohama exchanged a panicked look.
Goshiki: Aaaaah we're so late!
Yunohama: Let's just carry him!
Goshiki: Aaaaah we're so late!
Yunohama: …Hopeless.
In the end, Yunohama took action. One kid under each arm—Goshiki on the left, Ryosuke on the right—he bolted. All that endurance training finally paid off.
"Wait—you guys—!"
"Make way! Make way!"
They tore off like a gust of wind. Goshiki's blank stare reflected Ryosuke's equally vacant one, his cowlick flapping wildly in the air.
"What just flew past?" a passerby muttered.
"Probably a cat," his friend replied lazily.
...
It normally took at least fifteen minutes to walk from the venue to the meeting point. Yunohama dragged two people there in five.
Ushijima and Reon were already waiting.
Reon looked at the dust-covered trio, expression complicated.
"You were gone for five minutes and came back like this?"
Yunohama scratched his cheek awkwardly.
Ryosuke steadied himself and looked around. "Where's Yamagata-senpai? Wasn't he with us just now?"
Yunohama froze.
"I forgot Yamagata-senpai!"
Reon closed his eyes. He should've known better than to expect competence from this group.
"I'll go find him," Ushijima said calmly.
Reon nodded. Leaving Ushijima alone here would probably result in him being stared at like some rare animal.
Honestly… this team really can't function without me.
Reon motioned for the three to sit and rest.
Coach Washijō had chosen a hidden spot near the back entrance of the arena—hard to find, tucked behind the spectator stands and down the athletes' corridor. Shiratorizawa was too famous; one wrong turn and they'd drown in fans.
Reon started messaging the group chat.
Photo.jpg
"The first-years are here! Where are the rest of you?!"
Meanwhile, Yunohama began reorganizing the other two's bags.
Ryosuke's was messy—but Goshiki's was a disaster.
A half-eaten rice ball. Last week's quiz paper. Finger tape. A toy snake.
And—
A sock.
Yunohama's hand trembled as he pulled it out. He grabbed Goshiki by the collar.
"What is this?! Isn't this the sock I washed a few days ago and couldn't find?!"
Goshiki looked guilty.
"I told you I couldn't find my sock! Are you three years old?! When we get back, you're finding every single one of mine—or you're not sleeping tonight!"
"I didn't mean to…"
"I don't care! No more stuffing random junk into your bag!"
Even Yunohama's calm philosophy had finally cracked.
Reon sighed deeply. Every day with them was louder than the last.
Ryosuke, meanwhile, had closed his eyes peacefully on the steps. Not my problem.
Then Reon's phone chimed.
Tendo: I can't find the way~ This place Coach Washijō picked is so hidden. Reon, come get us.
Shirabu: +1
Semi: +2
Kawanishi: +3
Tendo: Report your locations!
Tendo: Restroom in Hall A.
Kawanishi: No idea. There's a vending machine.
Shirabu: Probably the kids' area.
Semi: Photo.jpg — I'm in a sea of people.
The photo showed Semi surrounded by fans.
Reon trembled with fury.
He messaged Ushijima.
@Ushijima, found him?
A moment later, Yamagata sent a photo.
Ushijima stood in the middle of a crowd of girls asking for autographs, looking oddly helpless.
…
Reon inhaled slowly. Ten minutes left. Still time.
He turned back to the three with a tight smile. "Stay here. I'll be back."
The two who had been fighting instantly stiffened and nodded.
Ryosuke took a sip of water. "Ahh, refreshing."
Under Reon's glare, he added lazily, "Got it, senpai."
Reon left, looking less like he was going to retrieve teammates and more like he was heading into battle.
"Good thing I checked the time," Ryosuke muttered.
"You call that smart? I dragged you here!" Yunohama roared.
Ryosuke shrank back. Goshiki stood quietly now, hands neatly behind his back—two fresh bumps on his head still practically steaming.
Justice had been served.
...
If you'd like to support my work and unlock advanced chapters, you can follow me on p-@-treon.
p-@-treon/GhostParser (40 Chapters Ahead)
You can also follow as a free member to read a few advanced chapters.