The second set began with Kitagawa First serving.
Most middle school players lack genuine serving technique at this stage of development, but Kageyama Tobio was a notable exception.
The precise control and considerable power of his jump serve made it virtually unique within the prefecture. Adding to their misfortune, Kageyama's touch seemed exceptionally sharp this morning.
Consequently, less than a minute into the second set, the score already stood at 0-3.
It wasn't until the fourth attempt that Kageyama Tobio finally made an error, netting the serve. The score shifted to 1-3.
The moment Kageyama Tobio retreated from the service line, Akashi Asuka could sense the entire Senkoku team—players and coach included—releasing a collective, profound sigh of relief.
Beep!
It was Senkoku's turn to serve. Kazama Jujiro sent the ball over the net in a high arc, which was fielded effortlessly by Kunimi Akira, who had rotated into the backcourt. Kageyama Tobio took the first pass and immediately initiated a quick attack to Kindaichi Yutaro.
When Kageyama Tobio was focused and executing his intended strategy, Kitagawa First's success rate on quick attacks was astronomically high.
In an instant, the ball flew from the center of the court toward the right sideline, where Kindaichi was already airborne. Beyond him, the space behind the Senkoku block looked wide open.
Bang!
The volleyball arrived precisely at the hitting point, and Kindaichi swung his arm in what should have been a routine kill.
But suddenly, a single arm appeared from the side, unanticipated and unwelcome, slicing into Kindaichi's line of sight. Though it was just one arm, Kindaichi felt a sudden, inexplicable shiver run down his spine.
It was too late to stop the strike.
Slap!
The volleyball inevitably contacted the surprise limb, but instead of being blocked, its trajectory was merely altered, sending it flying high into the air over Senkoku's side of the court.
"One touch!" Oda Miki, still mid-air, yelled the warning.
The sudden, dramatic shift stunned not only Kitagawa First but also the Senkoku players.
No one understood how Oda Miki had appeared from that position, seemingly out of nowhere.
Although shocked, neither team's reaction speed faltered. The ball, sent high by Oda Miki's touch, was traveling stably. Mishita Ryuhei swiftly moved under it, catching the pass, and immediately set the ball toward the net for Akashi Asuka to launch an attack.
"We knew it would be you! Don't think you can easily break through our defense!" Kindaichi yelled.
Kindaichi had recovered from his mistake with lightning speed, instantly joining the other middle blocker who had rotated to the front row to form a cohesive defense. This tactical resilience highlighted Kitagawa First's superior discipline compared to Senkoku's.
But the next moment, a concussive blast echoed, and the volleyball forcibly penetrated the small space between the opposing blocker's raised hands, smashing violently onto the floor.
Score: 2-3.
"Blast it!"
Kindaichi landed and swung his arm in frustrated resentment, staring at the consistently composed, handsome face of Akashi Asuka.
Since the start of the first set, Akashi had only failed to score on two occasions: the initial fault on the opening point, and the final point where Kageyama orchestrated the perfect block.
In every other exchange, Kindaichi had never managed to successfully halt Akashi when facing him alone, or even with two players.
Only a full triple-block seemed to guarantee the neutralization of the opposing ace's kill.
This realization infuriated Kindaichi.
Especially now, this latest point was scored precisely because of his error on the quick attack, making the situation even more galling.
"Dammit, how did that guy get there?" Kindaichi's partner blocker cursed, though his anger was directed at Oda Miki, not Akashi Asuka.
While Akashi Asuka scored the point, everyone with keen eyesight understood that the pivotal moment was Oda Miki's unexpected appearance, disrupting Kitagawa First's quick attack.
Both Senkoku and Kitagawa First shared a strength: powerful offense.
The critical difference was that Kitagawa First occasionally found ways to defend against Akashi Asuka's spikes, whereas Senkoku possessed virtually no reliable method to stop Kitagawa First's coordinated attacks.
This was the direct cause of the widening score gap.
Now, Oda Miki had, for the first time, thrown a wrench into Kitagawa First's system with a block touch. This was more than a single point; it threatened to alter the entire psychological dynamic.
"Awoh, awoh, awoh~~"
"Brilliant work, Oda!"
"Hurrah, hurrah..."
Following the point, Omae Masato and the others became exceptionally excited, swarming Oda Miki, cheering wildly, and visibly boosting their morale.
The Professional Benchmark
After the collective excitement had subsided slightly, Akashi Asuka finally addressed the crucial element. "Oda, how did you know that ball was going to be set to their number five?"
In contrast to Senkoku, who concentrated the majority of their attacks on the single ace, Akashi Asuka, Kitagawa First distributed their offensive opportunities far more evenly.
On that particular play, besides Kindaichi, there were two other attackers occupying the left and central lanes. Theoretically, those two players had a higher chance of receiving the set, as Kindaichi's initial positioning was not optimal.
Yet, the final set still landed perfectly in Kindaichi's hands.
Hearing Akashi Asuka raise the question, Omae Masato and the others immediately fell silent.
They shared the curiosity. If the play was pure luck, the moment was negligible. If it was not luck, the implication was entirely different.
Facing the scrutiny of his teammates, Oda Miki reflected for a moment, then spoke. "Their setter is phenomenal."
Mishita Ryuhei: "(;￣д￣) ... We know that. He's the 'King of the Court.' You don't need to state the obvious."
"No," Oda Miki countered, shaking his head. "My meaning is, their setter is so strong, it's almost absurd. My older brother plays in the V2 Professional League, and sometimes he brings his teammates to our neighborhood for practice."
"You may find this unbelievable, but the opponent's setter, at least in terms of passing precision, feels nearly comparable to the starting setter on my brother's professional team."
The collective reaction was delayed:
...
...
...
"You're lying!"
"Impossible, absolutely impossible!"
"Are you serious? He is a middle school student, a middle school student! You're telling us he's almost on par with a professional athlete? You must be mistaken. And wait a minute, your brother is a professional player? Why have we never heard you mention this before?"
As Oda Miki finished his revelation, the atmosphere among the Senkoku team instantly solidified, followed by a complete emotional breakdown of the players.
They could not be blamed for their lack of composure; Oda Miki's claim was simply too extraordinary to process.
The team desperately wanted to dismiss it as hyperbole.
Yet, they also knew that while Oda Miki maintained a low profile in the club, he was never one for theatrical exaggeration or casual jesting.