In Miyagi Prefecture's popularity rankings, if Oikawa was second, then Ushijima Wakatoshi was undoubtedly first.
The serve Jin had just unleashed gave Oikawa the same shiver as when Ushijima spiked, a suffocating, unavoidable pressure.
The only difference was, Ushijima relied purely on power, while Jin's ball carried terrifying spin on top of speed.
Shirogane Jin walked back to the service line. His third jump serve came crashing down, each one fiercer than the last.
This time Oikawa steadied himself, arms low, and managed to receive, though the ball still shook his frame and forced Yahaba to scramble for position.
"This kid… a first-year, and already this irritating?" Iwaizumi gritted his teeth. He raised his hand. "Yahaba! Set it to me. I'll smash right through them."
"Please, Iwaizumi-senpai!" Yahaba's set arced high. It wasn't as precise as Oikawa's, but it was enough for the ace.
Jin didn't step in front to block. He remembered clearly—when Iwaizumi's strength was ignored in the anime, he could tear through defenses. He wasn't about to let Aoba Jōsai feel that satisfaction here.
Hinata and Kageyama leapt together in front of Iwaizumi, forming a wall.
Like a predator, Jin crouched low, watching every shift of Iwaizumi's arm. If the straight line was sealed, the cross shot was inevitable.
"Got it," Jin muttered.
The moment Iwaizumi's shoulder tilted, Jin burst across the backcourt, sliding into the diagonal lane.
"Wham!" The spike ricocheted off Kageyama's fingers, spinning violently as its path warped.
Jin lunged, but the altered trajectory made him miss by inches.
"Don't worry about it, Jin!" Daichi called.
"Nice read, almost had it!" Tanaka added.
"Good one, Iwaizumi-senpai," Jin said with a grin. "But that won't work twice."
Iwaizumi jogged back, serving next. As he passed Oikawa, their eyes met. "He's tough. Honestly… tougher than Ushijima in some ways." Iwaizumi admitted.
Oikawa's smile was thin. Jin had read the attack perfectly, it had only slipped past because of the deflection. If not for that, he'd have dug it clean.
"…Why am I this excited in just a practice match?" Oikawa murmured.
The rotation brought Oikawa to the front row. He clapped Yahaba's shoulder. "I'll take it from here. Let me set."
Coach Irihata hesitated—Oikawa was just back from a sprain, and setting meant constant movement and strain. But the look on Oikawa's face wasn't joking. It was the serious, deadly Oikawa who only showed himself on court.
Irihata sighed and nodded. Yahaba stepped aside.
Fueled by the tension, Iwaizumi's serve blasted across, clipping the sideline and dropping into Karasuno's court.
Kageyama dove, popping it up, but his control wavered and the ball floated too close to the net.
"Chance ball!" Hanamaki shouted, sending it back to Oikawa.
Oikawa's hands rose calmly, every motion crisp and sharp.
"Read it… watch carefully… Iwaizumi's the obvious choice, only one blocker left…," Kageyama analyzed, sprinting to cover Iwaizumi.
Oikawa's lips curved. "Ahh, my poor little Tobio… still so easy to figure out."
At the last moment, his fingers snapped, sending the ball sailing instead, a cheeky setter dump.
"The younger generation might have talent…" Oikawa smirked, eyes glinting, "…but they still not cunning."
Suddenly, above him, a shadow loomed. A single hand cut off the light, dropping down in front of Oikawa's dump.