| Host: Akashi Asuka | |
|---|---|
| Age: | 15 |
| Height: | 181 cm |
| Weight: | 75 kg |
| Max Vertical Reach: | 336 cm |
| ... | |
These were Akashi Asuka's latest measurements following yesterday's testing session.
Aside from a two-centimeter growth spurt over the last six months, the most consequential change was the explosive increase in vertical reach brought about by Jumping Power breaching the 75.5 threshold.
This amplification was not merely a gain in height; more profoundly, it represented the shattering of a previous talent limitation.
Originally, Akashi Asuka's maximum reach was only 331 cm.
At that time, during the jump, he could clearly sense that his legs retained sufficient unused residual power, yet he was fundamentally unable to translate that power into a higher lift. The moment Jumping Power surpassed 75, this "residual power" immediately converted into the kinetic energy that propelled his jump.
A vertical reach of 336 cm is remarkable. Not only is this elite for the junior high level, but it is the approximate standard for a principal outside hitter in many ordinary high school programs.
Beep!
Following the necessary break to regroup, the referee's whistle signaled the continuation of the match.
Akashi Asuka's immediately preceding successful spike carried critical significance for Senkoku.
While Akashi Asuka lacked the innate charisma to rally his teammates, overwhelming power, when executed flawlessly on the court, often functions as a potent psychological stimulant.
Buoyed by the encouragement of that last kill, the movements of the Senkoku players became noticeably more fluid.
Backcourt hitter Oda Miki delivered the serve, which was competently received by the opposing Libero. The ball then landed in the hands of Kageyama Tobio, who immediately orchestrated a quick attack, deftly circumventing Senkoku's net defense for an easy kill.
Score: 1-2.
The nascent resurgence of Senkoku's morale was immediately doused with cold water.
If the first conceded point could be attributed to Mishita Ryuhei's individual error, this point was a stark revelation of the absolute skill disparity between the two teams.
In every aspect—team synchronization, coordinated effort, and individual talent—Senkoku, Akashi Asuka excepted, was being utterly outclassed.
The most glaring difference lay in the setter position.
Despite Akashi Asuka's philosophical detachment regarding the concept of a "protagonist," facing Kageyama Tobio firsthand allowed him to genuinely comprehend the sheer terrifying nature of his opponent.
This opponent was, in the purest sense of the word, a genius.
If Akashi were to mentally quantify Kageyama's attributes, he couldn't be certain about other skills, but at least for [Setting], Kageyama Tobio's value was likely already exceeding 85.
In the system's standards, a score of 90 already signifies the domain of a professional-level player.
Akashi Asuka shifted his gaze toward Kageyama Tobio's back, a slow change taking place in his expression.
Perhaps sensing the scrutiny, Kageyama Tobio, after scoring the point, turned to meet Akashi Asuka's eyes. A flicker of blatant challenge crossed Kageyama's face.
"Tch. What an unpleasant little brat," Akashi muttered under his breath.
...
The Predictable Downfall
Fifteen minutes into the match, the score stood at 14-24 in favor of Kitagawa First.
It was set point for Kitagawa First.
The devastating ten-point gap clearly illustrated the colossal skill difference between the two programs. Although Kageyama Tobio was still wrestling with serious psychological issues at this stage of his career, he could effortlessly dismantle Senkoku using only a fraction of his full potential, relying on the overall superior quality of his teammates.
Furthermore, a significant portion of Senkoku's fourteen points had been secured solely through Akashi Asuka's brute-force kills.
Behind Akashi Asuka, his teammates' breathing was shallow and strained.
Even with the same duration of play, the energy and mental exertion required to compete against a truly elite opponent were fundamentally different from battling an average team.
The referee blew the whistle again.
Kitagawa First served. Oda Miki received the ball—the first pass was high and well-placed. Mishita Ryuhei swiftly assumed his setting posture.
In the next moment, middle blockers Omae Masato and Kazama Jujiro, alongside outside hitter Akashi Asuka, began their approaches simultaneously.
Akashi Asuka launched himself into the air first. Observing this, Kitagawa First's Kunimi Akira and Kageyama Tobio did not follow to block. Instead, they rapidly shifted laterally, preparing to intercept Omae Masato.
Then... the volleyball was set directly over Akashi Asuka.
This was a calculated reverse feint.
In previous matches, Akashi Asuka had several times acted as a decoy to draw the opponent's block, successfully generating points for his team.
However, the opposition eventually realized that Mishita Ryuhei lacked the capability for a genuine quick set. Consequently, in the preceding rallies, Kitagawa First had ceased defending the player who jumped first during Senkoku's attacks.
It had to be admitted: Kitagawa First's assessment was entirely accurate.
Mishita Ryuhei truly did not possess the ability to execute a quick attack, or rather, Senkoku had never practiced the necessary quick tempo plays.
Therefore, this specific attack was not only a daring gambit by Senkoku but also a significant risk.
At that moment, however, their luck seemed to be holding.
Bang!
Akashi Asuka swung his arm, connecting with the ball. The volleyball shot out like a bullet, followed by a dull thud—the sound of the ball impacting the floor.
But the point was against Senkoku.
Akashi Asuka's pupils contracted sharply.
Still suspended in mid-air, he looked forward. Standing there, seemingly out of nowhere, was Kindaichi Yutaro, his hands held high, completely neutralizing the powerful spike.
"Yoshi!"
Kindaichi Yutaro pumped his fist and roared in triumph.
As the referee's whistle sounded, the surrounding Kitagawa First players immediately rushed toward Kindaichi, erupting in exultant cheers.
In stark contrast, Mishita Ryuhei and the rest of the Senkoku players remained rooted to the spot, their eyes vacant with disbelief.
14-25.
Senkoku's first set against Kitagawa First ended in devastating defeat.
The True Leader
During the pause between sets, Kitagawa First's coach offered no complex tactical instructions, realizing it was wholly unnecessary. Although he had been briefly startled by the attacking power of Senkoku's number one, it was a momentary concern.
The skill disparity was too enormous. While the opposing ace's offense was undeniably remarkable, every other aspect of his technique—aside from spiking and blocking—was glaringly flawed.
As for the rest of the Senkoku roster, their weaknesses were too numerous to mention.
Kindaichi Yutaro took small sips of water in the corner of the resting area. The initial excitement had already faded, replaced by an expression of grudging respect mixed with persistent irritation.
"Was that his command again?"
A voice suddenly approached from behind; it was Kunimi Akira.
Kindaichi Yutaro nodded. "Exactly. He told me to seal off their number one on the final point. He predicted their setter would, under pressure, risk setting to him, and argued that even if we only blocked the other two, the weak quality of the setter's desperate set would make it easy for even one person to shut down their ace."
Kindaichi clenched his water bottle, looking toward Kageyama's position. "It drives me insane. His personality is utterly detestable, yet in moments like that, I can't help but admire him."
"It's thoroughly frustrating."