And then, the fateful? Saturday finally arrived.
The day of the 3-on-3 match.
"Umm, we've pretty much gone over the signals, but… is it really okay for me to play setter?"
"Yeah. You said you can play anywhere, right, Kagami? Both Yamaguchi and I originally played middle blocker, and to put it mildly, our setting skills aren't great."
"Got it. Yamaguchi, you okay with that?"
"Yeah. Sounds good."
"Alright then—I'll toss it up as much as I can, so smash away."
While the Kagami–Tsukishima–Yamaguchi team was having a solid strategy meeting, the Kageyama–Hinata–Tanaka team was…
"Shimizu-san! You look beautiful today too!!"
"W-Whoa, a b-beauty! There's a beauty here!! Hey, hey, do you think she's the manager?? Hey, Kageyama!!"
"........."
To put it mildly, the scene screamed lack of communication.
Maybe it was better than being weirdly tense—but still…
The one who should have been the most concerned was Kageyama, the self-aware control tower.
He was completely ignoring Hinata.
Sure, the topic didn't matter to him at all—and it had nothing to do with the match since it was about Shimizu—but staying silent without even brushing it off wasn't great.
"Alright! Let's get started! Gather up!"
Daichi's call rang out.
The two teams lined up facing each other across the net.
"Give it everything you've got. A lot's happened, but for today, just focus on playing."
By "a lot," Daichi meant things that might be important to Hinata and Kageyama—but to everyone else, it didn't matter.
All that mattered was playing their best.
"Ahem—"
And apparently, "giving it your all" wasn't limited to physical effort.
"So, who should we crush—uh, contain first? The short one or Tanaka-san? Oh yeah, I kinda wanna see the 'King' lose too. After all, this is Kagami-kun's revenge match."
Shaking your opponent mentally is a valid tactic.
Maybe not something you'd want to do to your own teammates in practice—but since real matches won't always be against nice people, it could be a valuable experience.
That said… choosing who to provoke might be important.
"H-Hey, Tsukki… they can hear you, can't they?? This is bad!"
"What are you talking about? I said it so they'd hear. I'd appreciate it if they lost their cool."
"Wow… your personality's awful. And why's my name getting dragged into this again…? I really don't want the collateral damage."
"Yeah. It's the perfect level of nasty. …Well, uh—good luck, Kagami."
Before returning to the referee's position, Daichi gave Kagami a light pat on the shoulder.
It was practically decided—Kagami was the team's anchor, dealing with that honors-student-yet-problem-child named Tsukishima.
"…I'll do my best, but don't expect too much, okay?"
Kagami replied, and Daichi waved back with a smile.
"It's a pickup team anyway. Let's just take it easy. Besides… you want to see it too, don't you, Kagami? The king abandoned by his followers, left all alone."
"You really know how to dig into old wounds. You're getting pretty good at trash talk. …But you should know whether that's gonna help or backfire."
"Huh?"
Tsukishima felt a twinge of irritation at Kagami's loaded tone and was about to ask what he meant by backfire—when the answer arrived immediately.
"Heehee~ Did you hear that?? You two~
Saying stuff like thaaat~ How were you raised~?
And there's such a good boy right there—so why~?"
Tanaka's behavior was deeply unsettling.
He was smiling—but not really smiling.
Tsukishima wore a similar expression, but Tanaka's was different.
Barely concealed behind that grin was pure rage—and he wasn't even trying to hide it.
He was bottling it up… to unleash it later.
"Tsukishima-kun, you reaaally—
I'm gonna grind you to dust!!!"
Tanaka shot him a glare so intense even Kageyama, who'd been spacing out, did a double take.
Meanwhile, Hinata hid behind Tanaka, quietly taunting back.
"Hmmph."
"Yikes…"
"This might be tougher than I thought… but that's what makes it fun."
Yamaguchi was completely overwhelmed.
Tsukishima looked satisfied.
Kagami, though exhausted, was genuinely excited to play against Tanaka—and Kageyama and Hinata's team.
Provoking someone means irritating them.
That irritation and anger can turn into power—but sometimes it makes them overdo it.
A double-edged sword.
Too much force leads to mistakes.
That was all part of Tsukishima's calculated thinking—though, of course, his personality played a role too.
And then, the match began.
Yamaguchi served first, safely sending in a floater.
Tanaka received it, rage blazing as he leapt.
"TAKE THIIIIS!!!"
The spike slammed into Tsukishima's right hand.
Tsukishima thought he could stuff it down—but Tanaka's power overwhelmed him, blasting the ball far away.
"How d'ya like that, huh?!"
Tanaka swung his arm confidently—
"Ghn!!"
"What?!"
Kagami was there.
If Tsukishima had been pushed just a little farther back, the ball would've hit the gym wall and scored outright—but luckily (or unluckily), it hadn't gone that far.
"Nice receive, Kagami! Tanaka—lame!!"
"Don't pose unless it actually lands!!"
"And stop trying to strip already!!"
"Shut up!!"
Boos rained down from outside the court.
Tanaka didn't seem very popular at the moment.
"Sorry, Yamaguchi! Cover!"
"Got it—Tsukki!"
Yamaguchi sent up a second touch—an underhand set.
Not perfect, but good enough.
Now Tsukishima's height came into play.
With only a short approach, he dodged Tanaka's block and slammed it down the right side.
The ball hit the floor.
"Yes! Nice one, Tsukishima!"
"Nice, Tsukki!"
"It's just one point. Don't you think you're overreacting?"
"Oh, come on—"
Despite Tsukishima's complaint, the other two ran over smiling.
He looked bitter—but Kagami still reached out.
Kagami understood that with Tsukishima, direct communication worked best.
Tsukishima hesitated—but slapped Kagami's hand anyway.
"I forgot… your receives are seriously high-level, Kagami."
"That's right!! Those receives saved us again and again!! It was so reassuring!!"
"Yeah, I get it—and I get why Hinata feels that way—but stop smiling when you say it, Hinata.
For us, that's not 'reassuring'—it's downright terrifying.
We already have a huge wall, and Kagami backing it up? That's insane.
(…No holes on offense or defense. A true all-rounder.
That receive just now… reminded me of Nishinoya.)"
That single play snapped Tanaka out of his rage.
Everyone—including Tanaka himself—thought the spike had scored.
Yet Kagami dug it up.
Was it insane reflexes? Or had he read it?
"So yeah—you know this already, but don't provoke Tanaka-san.
He turns everything into power. We barely saved that one—don't count on it happening again."
"Tch."
Tsukishima was more annoyed about his block getting blown away than the point itself.
Knowing that this irritation would turn into his signature relentless read-blocking later made Kagami oddly excited.
"Keep the same mark on Tanaka-san.
And Shōyō's fast—if Kageyama sets to him, stay calm and chase.
If the ball gets tipped, I'll handle what I can."
"OK!"
"Got it."
Even from just one play, Kagami had captivated them.
Back in middle school—they'd gone to see Kitagawa Daiichi.
Yet their eyes had been drawn elsewhere.
Not just Yamaguchi—Tsukishima too felt something stir.
Being drawn in by a single play was new to him.
Though conflicted, Tsukishima said nothing—and followed Kagami's lead.
Daichi, Sugawara, Tanaka, even Shimizu—the manager—each realized once again:
Kagami was the one holding the trio together.
And yet, Kagami himself wasn't thinking about any of that.
His mind was on what came next.
On the quick attack that might be coming.
(…Alright, Kageyama. Shōyō.
Show me.
Show me the moment you two truly sync up.
Let me experience that freak quick firsthand.)
Kagami readied himself—
grinning with pure anticipation.
The rally went on, offense and defense trading back and forth.
With only three players covering and attacking such a wide court, there were bound to be strengths and weaknesses—but compared to a six-person team, there were far fewer teammates to cover those weak spots.
That meant this format tested individual skill more than anything else.
And because the court was so wide, once a ball got past you, it wasn't easy to recover.
"Yesss!!"
"Damn…!"
Kagami was no exception, of course.
As obvious as it was, he wasn't some kind of superpowered being.
He simply relied on the experience he'd built up—predicting, reading the play, moving in the best possible way, and executing it honestly and relentlessly.
That alone put him at a very high level.
But even so, he couldn't cover everything.
Some balls just couldn't be saved.
Among the six players, the one struggling the most was Hinata.
He'd managed to get Kageyama to set for him—but every attempt was being shut down by Tsukishima.
"Hmm. Tanaka's scoring a few, but Hinata's getting blocked a lot."
"Tsukishima… he's not just tall. His blocking's really good. He's shutting things down with serves and blocks. Even after Kagami's great serves, this is rough…"
If you can't score, you don't get points.
And if your attacks keep getting stuffed, you give up break points.
"What's wrong? Getting blocked again and again, huh?
This is where the King's set should shine—the kind that blows past blocks.
Well… sometimes it blows past the spiker too."
"…Shut up."
The trash talk toward Kageyama was still going strong.
Tsukishima had learned that provoking Tanaka only made him stronger, so now he'd narrowed his targets to Hinata and Kageyama.
(With Kagami there, farming points off serves isn't easy.
Hinata's practically shut down.
Tanaka-san's handling it well, but he's still getting caught sometimes…
What do we do? What do we do…)
It felt like a game of shogi—his options slowly being cornered.
What if everything was blocked?
What if nothing got through?
"Alright, next up—it's Kagami-kun's serve.
You good, shorty?"
"Grrrr!! I'll get it!! I will get it!!
Just watch me, you jerk!!"
Hinata's taunting usually worked—but this time, the momentum shifted.
Kagami's jump serve was fast, precise, and aimed straight at the uncovered space.
Right along the end line.
From both Kagami's perspective and the spectators', it felt like a service ace.
But a shadow intercepted its path.
Hinata.
With his natural reflexes—and the lingering sting of Tsukishima's taunts—he didn't flinch.
He stared straight ahead—
"Gyahh!!"
—and took Kagami's serve straight to the chest, popping it up.
The gym erupted—not quite cheers, more like a stunned roar.
"…Hinata really does pull off insane moves sometimes."
"Yeah. I thought that one was a sure point."
"That had to hurt…"
Reactions varied.
His positioning was excellent, and his reflexes were sharp.
If he could just polish his receiving technique…
well, that was still a long way off.
After that, Tanaka sent up a second touch, and Kageyama finished it with a straight shot.
They cut off Kagami's serve in one rotation.
The meaning of that was huge.
And now—it was Kageyama's turn to serve.
(Serving to Kagami is pointless…
My targets are them.)
Kageyama tossed the ball high.
He focused his image, poured his intent into it.
The practiced motion—serve toss, jump, form in midair.
In his mind were two figures.
I'm not losing. I'm not inferior.
The serve flew like an arrow—straight toward Yamaguchi.
"Yamaguchi!"
"Ugh!?"
Yamaguchi couldn't fully control the powerful serve.
The ball sailed past him and out—a clean home run.
"Alright!"
Feeling the solid contact and seeing the result, Kageyama clenched his fist.
Yamaguchi was targeted again and again, and Kagami's team gave up consecutive points.
"S-Sorry, Tsukki… Kagami…"
"It's fine, it's fine. Reflect on it, but calm down first.
Let's cut the next one.
Tsukishima, can you stay closer to Yamaguchi and help cover?
It'll open space on the other side, but I'll handle that."
"Tch…"
Whether he was irritated at Kageyama's scoring streak, Yamaguchi's mistakes, or both, Tsukishima's tongue clicks were becoming more frequent.
"Still… Kageyama's serve accuracy keeps getting better.
…As expected."
Kagami wiped away sweat and locked his gaze on Kageyama.
At first, Kageyama had clearly been serving with Kagami as his target—but now, he rarely aimed there anymore.
Maybe it felt like serving to a libero.
Sure, scoring off Kagami would've been exciting—but since he'd already been received once, the risk probably wasn't worth it.
More than anything—considering the punishment for losing—Kageyama had no choice but to prioritize winning.
"I'll rack up points all at once!"
Kageyama's third serve rocketed off like a bullet—this time toward Tsukishima.
Already irritated, Tsukishima showed his pride.
It wasn't a clean receive, but he managed to get the ball up.
The high, deep ball drifted toward the back end line—and Kagami sprinted to cover.
"Nice serve, Kageyama!
Chance ball incoming, Hinata!"
"Yes, sir!"
Seeing the disrupted ball, Tanaka backed away from the net, preparing for a chance ball.
Hinata did the same.
Kageyama returned to the setter position.
Their offense was ready.
Watching from the corner of his eye, Kagami took a deep breath.
"Yamaguchi! Left!"
He pointed to the left side as he exhaled.
He jumped—and caught the ball.
Then, with the utmost care, he sent a toss that was neither too short nor too long, neither too close nor too far.
A beautiful set, rising all the way to the antenna.
(I can't do Kageyama's insanely precise, lightning-fast quick sets…
…but this set—
I've watched you again and again, and practiced it over and over.)
A toss that widened the spiker's field of vision, increased their options, and gave them as much thinking time as possible.
Given the poor position, it was a perfect hit.
The feel on his fingers—the height, the speed, the imagined landing point.
A near-perfect connection he couldn't replicate many times.
The only slight disappointment was that Yamaguchi hadn't been thinking that far ahead.
He simply approached, spiked cleanly, and scored.
They regrouped and exchanged high fives.
"…That was a beautiful set."
For a moment, Sugawara was transfixed.
As a setter, he thought—Wasn't that the ideal setup?
Of course, with quick attacks and other options, the needed toss would change—but still.
"Man… geniuses really do exist.
And sometimes, there's two of them."
It was frustrating—but more than that, Sugawara saw it as something to learn from.
That set was incredibly—painstakingly—careful.
It looked simple at first glance, but executing that level of precision in the middle of constant split-second decisions was extraordinarily difficult.
Still—
I can do it too.
If he didn't believe that, he couldn't call himself a setter.
Sugawara made that vow quietly in his heart.
And Sugawara wasn't the only one whose eyes widened at that play.
Kageyama—also a setter—had seen it too.
Perfect, he thought.
When he imagined how he himself would have handled a ball lifted from such an awkward position, one of the many possible options overlapped exactly with what Kagami had done.
(…Perfect. What the hell are you, really?)
For a brief moment, Kageyama felt something like fear.
It might have been the first time he'd ever felt that way.
But even stronger than that fear was the excitement rising within him.
…Still, right now, what mattered was how to win.
So he quickly pulled himself back together.
After that, both teams managed to control the serves of their main point-getters—Kageyama and Kagami—but little by little, the difference in base strength began to show, and Kagami's side kept adding points.
Offensively, Kageyama's team wasn't losing—if anything, they were superior.
But they couldn't finish points. They couldn't break.
Even if individuals won their matchups, in a three-on-three, the stronger trio wins.
And that was when frustration started to show on Kageyama's face.
Tsukishima didn't miss it.
"Hey, hey, the score's widening, you know?
Your Majesty.
Shouldn't you start getting serious about now?"
He piled on the provocation without mercy.
Even Hinata—who didn't fully understand what was going on—found the tone deeply unpleasant.
"What's your problem!?
You've been picking fights since yesterday!
Even during a match!?
And what the hell is this 'King's set' anyway!?"
"Huh? You didn't know?
Kagami-kun said he knew about it."
At that, Hinata's gaze—no, his entire face—whipped toward Kagami.
Once again, Kagami's name had been dragged in without his consent.
Talk about collateral damage.
But this time, Kagami said nothing.
This could be a chance—to clear things away.
He didn't want to think about it, but if nothing happened here… Kageyama might never change.
That exhilarating kind of set—the kind that made you lose yourself in volleyball—and even the way future matches would feel might change too.
He wasn't dissatisfied with how things were now.
But still… that would be lonely.
As Kagami watched in silence, things moved forward.
Tsukishima's words drove straight into the core of Kageyama.
"You know, the rumor goes that the nickname 'King of the Court' was given to you by the guys from Kitagawa Daiichi.
Your own teammates, I mean.
And the meaning?
A selfish king. A tyrannical dictator.
I'd heard the rumors before—but after watching that match, it all made sense.
Your tyranny went too far, and in that final… you got benched."
Those words burrowed deep into Kageyama's mind, sinking all the way into the hippocampus where memories lived.
That scene he never wanted to remember.
Kageyama had obsessed over speed.
Faster. Faster still.
If you couldn't outrun the block, you couldn't win.
The opponent in the finals was Shiratorizawa Middle School.
A perennial national powerhouse.
To be blunt, the difference in strength was obvious—nothing like the earlier rounds.
To beat them, everyone would have to adjust to him.
Kageyama believed that with absolute certainty.
Move faster! Jump higher!
Match my sets!!
If you want to win!!
That was the trigger.
At the opponent's set point in the first set, he raised a toss—
And no one was there.
There had been miscommunications before.
Even when they couldn't keep up with the speed, they'd at least been able to touch the ball.
But this time—
No one was there.
A complete rejection.
We can't go on like this.
That message was delivered not with words—but with action.
And so—
Kageyama was benched.
No one had heard it directly from Kageyama himself.
But from Tsukishima's words, and the atmosphere of that moment, those who understood… understood.
And no one could put it into words.
Yes, Kageyama bore responsibility.
Anyone could understand the frustration and resentment of teammates forced to endure his selfish, tyrannical play.
But even so—
Even touching something that should never be said—
They could also understand Kageyama's desire to win at any cost.
That hunger for victory existed in everyone, to some degree.
Kageyama's was simply overwhelming.
And only after everyone else chose rejection over victory did Kageyama finally realize he'd crossed a line he could never take back.
"So… you're scared to use quicks because of that final, huh?"
Tsukishima's words dug relentlessly into Kageyama's trauma.
Thinking it was going too far, Tanaka stepped forward.
"…Hey. That's enough.
We're in the middle of a match."
"Tanaka."
Sawamura, who had anticipated Tanaka would jump in, shook his head slightly.
Tsukishima was cruel—his personality was awful—but he was only stating facts.
To make Kageyama truly understand what selfishness led to, Sawamura stopped Tanaka.
Even though Tanaka clearly wasn't satisfied.
"…Yeah. That's right."
After a long silence, Kageyama finally spoke.
It was something he'd been thinking about from that moment until today.
"Raising a toss and seeing no one there…
that's terrifying. From the bottom of your heart."
A confession from the prideful Kageyama.
The gym seemed like it would fall into silence—
But then—
"Eh? But that was middle school, right??
It doesn't matter to me—you set to me just fine.
I pulled off a receive that made you acknowledge me!
And I even got Seiya's serve!"
Hinata's oddly cheerful declaration instantly loosened the tension.
The pressure cracked.
Even knowing that, Kagami couldn't stop his cheeks from lifting into a smile.
"…Haha!
Isn't that just because you got hit by the ball, Shōyō?"
"I-I received it!!
Anyway, that's not the problem!
The only problem now is how we're gonna blow you past!"
Hinata pointed straight at Tsukishima.
Having only "received" one ball (or been hit by it), Hinata looked like he'd already cleared his goal.
Kagami wore a slightly complicated expression—but decided to let it go.
Because the court was filled with laughter.
"We're gonna win, properly join the club,
you'll be the setter fair and square—
and you'll toss to me!
What else could there be!?"
"…!"
"Hahaha!
Yeah, that's just like you, Shōyō. Exactly.
And Kageyama, you chose this yourself, didn't you?
Then one moment of weakness is more than enough.
Besides, don't you think there's no time left for that?
Your partner's right there waiting—
so let's hurry up and keep going."
Kagami's laughter rang out, and the people around them followed suit.
The only one visibly irritated was Tsukishima.
"That whole 'pure and straightforward' act really gets on my nerves.
You can't close a height gap with guts.
Thinking effort solves everything is a huge mistake."
"Well… one of those is true."
Kagami nodded lightly, patting Tsukishima on the shoulder.
He knew the words applied to himself too—but chose not to address it.
Hinata, meanwhile, looked conflicted—and slightly resentful.
"Yeah, height isn't something you can fix by trying harder.
…but I think there are other things you can do."
"Huh?"
"You watched our match, right?
You saw how Shōyō scored."
Laughing lightly, Kagami passed the ball he was holding to Yamaguchi.
"And Kageyama just admitted his own weakness.
When your head's a mess, admitting the reason—even once—can clear things up.
So from here on, he's gonna be tougher.
Feels like we just woke up a real pain-in-the-neck monster."
"What is that, some manga nonsense?
Power-ups like some main character don't exist in real life."
"Hahaha. Maybe."
Kagami slapped both thighs.
"Don't know why—but I'm having way too much fun right now."
"…Stop saying weird stuff.
You're exhausting."
Tsukishima remained calm—
But just a little, very little—
He became cautious.