Tendo landed on the floor, still a little stunned, his arm buzzing from the impact.
Ryosuke glanced at the rare sight of a confused Tendo and secretly laughed to himself. Iwaizumi-senpai was someone who could even beat Ushijima-senpai in arm wrestling—how could Tendo-senpai be so careless?
Even Ryosuke would need to make proper preparations if he wanted to block Iwaizumi-senpai's spike…
Well… that statement was a bit of a humblebrag.
Right now, Tendo was simply in disbelief. Looking at his reddened arm, he couldn't help blurting out:
"What happened? His spike wasn't this strong before. How does someone's spike just keep getting stronger?"
…
Tendo glared at Iwaizumi, who looked guilty, and felt so irritated he could explode. The two of them locked eyes.
Tendo: Stare————
Iwaizumi: (frantically apologetic) (guilty) (a little smug)
"Alright, Satori, stop staring at him," Reon called out helplessly. "Can't you see you're making him break out in a cold sweat?"
Iwaizumi: Thanks, but that's not it.
He was just hot.
Tendo widened his eyes and shot Iwaizumi a fierce glare before turning away with a huff.
Watching the unusually quiet Tendo, Ryosuke thought to himself: Tendo-senpai must be really mad. Even his chatterbox mode disappeared. Iwaizumi-senpai is seriously impressive.
Iwaizumi curved his lips into a quiet smile.
Why were all the Shiratorizawa guys so childish?
Just now, when Tendo glared at him with wide eyes, he looked exactly like a red long-necked rooster—skinny neck and all. That glare had looked weirdly silly and adorable.
The image in Iwaizumi's head fit perfectly with his strange sense of humor.
"Iwa-chan, stop staring~"
Oikawa clung onto Iwaizumi bonelessly, dragging him back.
With practiced ease and clear annoyance, Iwaizumi peeled the "Oikawa attachment" off himself.
Ryosuke blinked.
That sequence of movements from Iwaizumi-senpai looked strangely familiar… like he had seen it somewhere before…
But before he could think further, it was already Mad Dog's turn to serve.
The scoreboard now read:
13 : 9
Yamagata and Ryosuke exchanged a glance. Both of them had the same idea—to test Mad Dog's serve.
Normally, trying something like that in such a tense match would get you scolded.
Most teams played it safe in moments like this.
But Shiratorizawa and Aobajosai were both… unusual.
Especially Shiratorizawa.
Washijō's philosophy was simple: do whatever you want—if you have the ability to turn the score around.
As long as you could do that, he wouldn't stop you.
And that rule didn't only apply to players with flashy styles like Oikawa or Semi.
Mad Dog stepped to the service line.
Even Hanamaki didn't give him a cold look. Instead he grinned and shouted:
"Nice serve!"
Of course, that friendliness was only because of the earlier save. It was enough to slightly improve Hanamaki's attitude toward him.
Mizoguchi glanced at Hanamaki and roughly understood the silent agreement between Oikawa and Irihata.
Among the second-years, Hanamaki was the one most similar to Oikawa.
Serious about everything.
Smooth in conversation.
Good at dealing with people.
And in volleyball skill and experience, Hanamaki wasn't inferior to Oikawa either.
Before Oikawa even became captain, he had already been guiding Hanamaki and Matsukawa.
But Matsukawa wasn't particularly sharp and had a stubborn temper.
So Hanamaki—who excelled in many areas—became Oikawa's first successor.
Among the second-years, Hanamaki was now the one leading.
Irihata was also quietly considering him as the next captain.
Looking at Hanamaki's calm and composed demeanor, Irihata nodded in satisfaction.
Good.
He didn't compete with others for attention and could talk with anyone.
That alone already made him outstanding.
Hanamaki had no idea what Irihata was thinking about him.
Right now, he was simply worried.
Aobajosai was running out of chances.
If they didn't turn things around soon… this year's Interhigh would slip through their fingers again.
Kyotani caught the ball.
For some reason, a thought appeared in his mind.
If they lost… he might actually feel upset.
The moment that thought appeared, even Kyotani himself was startled.
He quickly rejected it.
What did Aobajosai losing have to do with him?
Even if he lost this opportunity with this school, he could still go somewhere else and play volleyball.
Kyotani tossed the ball and began his approach.
In that moment, his aura completely changed.
Ryosuke's gaze sharpened.
The cheerful cat-like eyes he usually wore now looked chilling.
"Bang!"
Kyotani's back muscles drove the movement, power traveling down his arm and exploding through his palm as he struck the ball.
Yamagata moved to receive.
But Ryosuke swept past him like a silent black shadow.
"I've got it."
His voice drifted lightly behind him.
Yamagata calmly stopped moving, looking peaceful and composed. He didn't seem annoyed at all about the ball being taken from him.
Young people should practice more.
That was a good thing.
Washijō looked at Yamagata and nearly exploded.
But seeing that Ryosuke was about to receive the ball, he swallowed the curse that had reached his lips.
The advisor teacher glanced at him and silently clicked his tongue.
Such blatant double standards.
Ryosuke ran swiftly and smoothly across the court.
His eyes were so bright they were almost impossible to look at directly.
It felt like staring too long might burn you.
As the ball approached, Ryosuke crouched and reached out to receive it.
"Bang!"
The ball smashed into his forearms.
Before he could step back to absorb the force, the spinning ball twisted out of his arms and flew off the court.
It slammed onto the floor—
then bounced and crashed loudly against the railing in front of an elderly man with white hair in the audience.
The old man jolted in shock.
His son hurried to pat his back and took out blood-pressure medicine from his pocket while muttering:
"I told you not to come, but you insisted. Look, you got scared. Next time can we sit further back…"
"No!"
The old man's voice was loud and full of energy.
"You can only see clearly from the front!"
The Date Tech players nearby heard this and wiped imaginary sweat from their brows.
Now that was a true fan.
"Nice one, Kyotani!" Oikawa cheered happily.
"Not bad."
Iwaizumi gestured for a high-five.
Kyotani blankly raised his hand.
From the bench, Matsukawa watched Kyotani being surrounded by teammates. He looked awkward, even a bit flustered, his face flushed red.
Matsukawa suddenly wondered if he had been too harsh on him.
Maybe he should try a different approach.
"Don't worry about it!"
Yamagata walked up to Ryosuke after the missed receive.
"Ryosuke, you've got this!"
Ryosuke didn't turn around.
Yamagata looked confused.
Missing one ball shouldn't have shaken him that much, right?
Then he froze.
Under Ryosuke's slightly longer hair, those eyes were blazing with fierce fighting spirit.
Ryosuke slowly turned around.
His eyes shone frighteningly bright.
"Yamagata-senpai… being able to play volleyball at Shiratorizawa is really amazing."
Yamagata paused, then smiled.
"Good. At least you know that."
Ryosuke turned his gaze back toward Kyotani.
He stared until Mad Dog began to feel uncomfortable.
Ryosuke remembered visiting Miyagi's countryside once before.
There, he had seen kids playing wild volleyball.
No complicated techniques.
No elaborate tactics.
Just fast spins and high arcs.
The nets in those villages were always set very high.
Groups of kids would gather to play in the evening, just before sunset.
Full of life.
Full of raw power.
Kyotani's serve had that same wild volleyball feeling.
It was something Ryosuke had never tried receiving before.
It made his blood boil with excitement.
"Really exciting…"
Ryosuke murmured, staring across the net at Kyotani.
Kyotani stared back cautiously.
These two people who should have had nothing in common somehow shared a strange similarity.
Honestly, Kyotani felt a little pleased.
After all, Ryosuke hadn't been able to receive his serve.
That made up for getting blocked earlier.
"Beep————"
Kyotani focused again and prepared for his second serve.
Yamagata happily left the ball to Ryosuke again.
Kyotani's previous serve had been too fast for proper analysis.
This time, Ryosuke focused.
He carefully observed Kyotani with those sharp eyes.
As Kyotani jumped, the muscles on his back bulged with explosive power.
Everything slowed down.
Kyotani's arm whipped forward like lightning—
"Bang!"
The ball spun violently through the air.
Even more spin than before.
Washijō straightened in his seat.
A sharp glint appeared in his narrowed eyes.
Oh?
Where did that old man Irihata find such a treasure?
It had been years since he had seen wild-style volleyball like this.
Number 16 had extremely flexible joints and muscles.
And that aggressive attacking style…
This kid really belonged at Shiratorizawa.
Washijō was already thinking about how to lure Kyotani over to train at Shiratorizawa for a few days.
Give this kid some time, and by next year he would definitely shine.
But talent alone wasn't enough.
After all—
"Bang!"
Ryosuke crouched and cleanly received the ball.
When he looked up, he gave Kyotani a rare, provocative glance.
After all—
there were plenty of people in the world who were talented, hardworking, and perceptive.
Washijō nodded in satisfaction and leaned back in his chair, withdrawing the vulture-like scrutiny from his eyes.
"Don't worry about it. That was good!"
Hanamaki comforted Kyotani, who looked like he was radiating dark energy.
"Oh my, Mad Dog did pretty well."
Oikawa bumped Kyotani's shoulder playfully.
Kyotani dodged with visible disgust.
But he felt confused.
Why were people comforting him after a failed serve?
That made no sense to him.
Yet somehow…
he felt strangely satisfied.
More satisfied than when he scored five points in a row.
Weird.
Whatever.
If he couldn't understand it, he wouldn't think about it.
Kyotani's thinking was always simple.
He ran to his attack position with a scowl.
Ryosuke's receive on that second serve ended Aobajosai's service run.
But Ryosuke still felt his control wasn't perfect.
The ball rose high into the air with some spin left.
If Yamagata heard that, he would probably explode.
Ryosuke's self-criticism was absurdly strict.
The ball floated upward.
Shirabu didn't move.
Reon was already perfectly positioned.
Without a word, Reon rushed forward—
"Bang!"
Hanamaki grimaced and pressed his arms forward.
The ball lingered on his hands for a moment before flipping away.
"One touch!"
"Got it!"
Watari ran forward.
Just as it looked too late, he slid his leg forward and managed to dig the ball.
"Nice!"
"One more!"
Oikawa sent a fast flat set to Kindaichi near the net.
"Kindaichi! Spike it down!"
He emphasized the word down.
Kindaichi understood immediately.
Facing Tendo's smiling block, he gathered his strength and slammed the ball straight downward.
A vertical spike.
His special move.
A spike that shot almost straight down beside the net.
Extremely difficult to receive.
Tendo's expression changed.
He hurriedly tried to save it, even kicking out a leg.
But with his long limbs, he misjudged the position.
"Tap!"
The ball landed beside his foot.
"Beep————"
Tendo stared at the ball.
Blink.
Blink.
Then he raised his head and sneered.
"Hah… not bad, brat."
Interesting.
Did you practice that specifically to deal with me?
Aobajosai sure thinks highly of me.
Tsk.
I got careless.
Kindaichi pretended not to notice Tendo's gaze and stiffly turned away.
To people unfamiliar with Tendo, his small pupils could look intimidating.
Kindaichi had clearly been frightened.
"Tendo Satori! What are you spacing out for?! Bringing such a basic mistake onto the court?! Fix it immediately!"
The cool and arrogant Tendo instantly shrank back like a scared cat.
Inside, he cursed Aobajosai thoroughly.
Every single one of them.
Right now he equally hated everyone on Aobajosai.
Especially Oikawa and Kindaichi.
Washijō stood up furiously and shouted at him.
"Write this down," he told the advisor.
"After the match, Tendo gets extra training and ten laps around the field every day."
The advisor wrote it down with a complicated expression.
Silently mourning Tendo.
Tendo returned to position guiltily.
Then he saw Ryosuke secretly trying not to laugh.
Tendo rolled his eyes.
Why was this kid so irritating?
With that point scored, the serve returned to Aobajosai.
Tendo stared at Kindaichi, who now stood in position one.
His gaze became increasingly fierce.
...
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