"Kaahhh—next is a jump floater! Just how many weapons does that guy have loaded up, Suga-san?"
Tanaka seemed to have forgotten all about glaring. Maybe even Shimizu, who had been the only one to hold his attention, had slipped his mind—for now at least.
That's how much he was captivated.
By Hinata. By Kagami.
By Yukigaoka Middle School's volleyball team—supposed to be nothing more than an unknown school.
"Yeah. That one dropped in for a direct point, but if you actually try to receive it… It might not look obvious from up here where we can see the whole court, but that serve's a real nightmare to deal with."
"You get it when you're standing across from it. Right until the last second, the trajectory looked out, but then it curved in. And with that much power on top of it… Honestly, a monster just showed up."
"…"
Everyone's eyes were on Kagami. And on Hinata.
Shimizu tilted her head slightly again. She'd been shocked by all kinds of things in their play, but what stuck in her mind was Kagami's reaction back when they'd first bumped into each other.
"…Yeah. That really was their first meeting."
She came to the same conclusion again, for who knows how many times now.
"He must've been dazzled by Kiyoko-san's beauty! A middle schooler getting all hot and bothered—might need some discipline, huh??"
"He's not you, Tanaka."
"Ahh… being ignored is the best too, but getting a response from Kiyoko-san is even better!"
Tanaka was his usual self, but Sawamura was thinking more seriously.
Shimizu said he wasn't like Tanaka—but what if? What if he came to Karasuno because of Shimizu? Even if she were the reason (and yeah, that could get messy in its own way), if a player like that joined them, Karasuno would explode in growth. Plus, seeing how he holds the team together, he's got good character too—a likeable kid. Honestly, they already had two guys on the team who were more of a handful.
But that was just wishful thinking.
Because in this venue, there were others watching with very different intentions. Normally, you could ignore it, but since this was Kitagawa Daiichi's opening match—a championship contender—lots of eyes were on it.
("I just caught a glimpse of some lettering… That's Aoba Johsai, right? And over there—that's Shiratorizawa?")
Even at a glance, powerhouse high schools were gathering here. Aoba Johsai made sense—it's where most of Kitagawa Daiichi's players would go on to. But Shiratorizawa? The reigning prefectural champions? Maybe it was coincidence, but after seeing Kagami's play, there was no way they wouldn't take notice.
"Guess the odds aren't great. Kinda rough, huh."
"Daichi? What's up?"
"Nah. Just figured it's better not to get our hopes up."
"???"
If he moved on, he'd choose a powerhouse. And with representatives from top schools conveniently here, scouting was inevitable.
"Oi, it's starting again!"
At Tanaka's words, everyone turned their eyes back to the game.
Sawamura decided: next time they met, he'd see Kagami as an opponent.
"Let's go!"
Come at us!!!
Kitagawa Daiichi's intensity radiated across the court. The setter, Izumi, and Sekimukai couldn't help but feel overwhelmed.
("How many points left…? No—let's take all of them. Right, Shouyou? Actually… I want them too!")
Kagami glanced at Hinata with a grin. Hinata, facing forward, somehow sensed it and looked back—smiling, shouting with all his energy:
"Ten more points! I'll take the rest!!"
"…The hell did you just say??"
"Eek!!"
It was the kind of exchange that made you laugh. But Hinata's words ended up provoking the other side, earning him a death glare that left him shrinking. You wanted to laugh, but time was too precious.
"…Aim for that gap."
By saying it out loud, Kagami forced himself to follow through. He pictured his posture, the exact motion. Compared to a jump serve, this one was easier, but the routine didn't change: imagine the ace, believe it, nail it.
Toss. Jump. Timing.
(Perfect…!)
The serve went right between Kitagawa Daiichi's #5 and #6. If it worked, it could trigger a hesitation.
"I'll take it!!"
But Kitagawa Daiichi wasn't about to hand them points. This was already Kagami's third serve—two had been untouched aces. A contender like them couldn't allow that pride to be crushed. #5 stepped in confidently.
("Got it… huh?!")
He was sure he had the perfect position. He'd adjusted his distance, ready to take it overhead. A textbook receive. But jump floaters don't always move the same way. That's why they're called "magic balls."
The ball shifted, nicked his fingertips, and ricocheted backwards.
YEEEAHHHHHH!!!
The crowd erupted as if they'd already won. They were still two points down, but who cared?
Kagami celebrated too—but unease still lingered. He wanted to ride this momentum as far as possible, maybe even steal the set. But it wouldn't be that easy.
Their overall team strength was miles behind.
"Seiyaaa! Hell yeah, hell yeah!!"
"Yeah!"
"Sei-chan, you look totally fine out there! Didn't you say winning was impossible? You're amazing, seriously amazing!"
"Yeah, keep it going! Receiving hurts, you know!"
The team gathered around.
But this wasn't the time to get carried away. The match was still in its early stages.
"Quick huddle. Shouyou—don't get too high. It's fine to ride the momentum, but don't overdo it. Cool down first. Right now, we're scoring off their errors, but they'll start returning. Don't take your eyes off the ball."
Everyone nodded firmly.
"As long as the flow's with us, I'll keep serving. But once it stops—that's when Round Two starts."
"Yeah!! I'll do it too!! And I wanna touch the ball!!"
Hinata wasn't exactly grasping the deeper strategy, but Kagami focused back in.
If it were me, I'd get that. I could serve like that too.
A fire was lit in Kageyama.
But with his teammates failing, he felt nothing but frustration. If he were the one receiving, he'd have taken it. No doubt.
Kageyama's pride was huge, his competitiveness stronger still.
"I'll shut them down!!"
That frustration twisted into self-centered commands, making him an isolated presence his team resented. Normally, this match would've been no different.
But this time, something changed.
(It was my mistake…!!!)
#5—Kindaichi—smacked both cheeks with his hands.
Usually, he struggled with Kageyama's reckless sets and overbearing attitude. But this serve was different. He'd called it, positioned perfectly—and then the ball changed at the last second. Almost like it had been manipulated.
He'd lost them the point.
Nobody liked Kageyama. Dictatorial, arrogant, selfish—they could go on and on. And in volleyball, where connecting is everything, no one wanted to sync up with him.
But this time was different.
One ball. Stop it.
For the first time ever—maybe for the first time at all—the entire team's will aligned.
"Bring it on!!"
Their faces had completely changed.
Kagami's fourth serve was a jump serve. Maybe from focusing too hard, this time it was brilliantly received and set to Kageyama, who returned it with seamless coordination.
The speed and precision froze the front three in place.
"…Tch. My bad. Not much of a leader, saying I'd carry us and then failing. Wanted at least one more point."
Even so, his voice carried.
Then three points in a row slipped away. Kitagawa Daiichi hit the twenties first.
They scraped together a few more—some lucky breaks, some opponent errors, a couple from Kagami and Hinata—but the gap stretched: 24–19, set point.
Kagami's earlier words—cool down—echoed in everyone's minds.
They'd been too giddy, forgetting the obvious. Their opponent was a powerhouse. It looked like they were keeping up, but almost all the scoring came from Kagami's plays, Hinata's speed, and their follow-ups.
That serve run had been their peak.
They'd almost closed the gap. Spirits were high. Maybe that's why they forgot—aside from Kagami, they were mostly beginners.
Hinata touched the ball daily and had insane speed, spring, and hops. But in overall ability, he was still far behind. They mistook it for their own strength.
Volleyball isn't a solo sport. You can't win on one player alone. You might score points, but not close out a match. Even those from other ball sports knew that much.
"Volleyball's tough, huh."
"Yeah. …But."
"Right. Even if we're just soccer club backups, now that we're here, let's try a giant-killing. We probably can't avoid dragging the team down as rookies, but we can at least fight as far as we can."
"Yeah. And I still haven't done the play Seichan told me about. There's still more I can do."
Izumi and Sekimukai—two total beginners—reset their focus.
The thought they had at the start, that they could never beat a team this strong, was gone.
All that was left was one thing: Don't let the ball drop. Do everything we can.
That's what they believed.