Back on court, Jin had planned to challenge Kuroo directly in the front row. But when he locked eyes with him, he backed off immediately.
Those eyes weren't joking. Kuroo wasn't the only threat, even Yaku, the libero, had that sharp look. A serve receive was one thing, but Jin had targeted him head-on with a spike earlier, and the libero still stood firm.
'Alright then… if nothing else, they're fired up now.'
Sure enough, Nekoma's players filled with energy, their focus are sharp.
"Keep it steady, keep it up," voices rang across the red side of the court, each player encouraging the others.
Karasuno lined up to the block. Tanaka and Asahi both rose in front, aiming to seal Kenma's options. But Kenma's tempo slowed by half a beat. That tiny hesitation threw off their timing. Kuroo adjusted his run, slowed for a breath, and then leapt into the set.
The block had already landed. By the time Tanaka and Asahi's hands dropped, Kuroo was swinging clean through empty air.
"Time difference spike!" Coach Ukai exclaimed on the bench, his sharp eyes glinting.
Takeda-sensei blinked in confusion. "Time… difference spike?"
Ukai leaned forward, explaining quickly. "It's an old tricks. The hitter feint the jump, makes the blockers bite, then goes up a beat later on his own. Timing tricks is simple, but nasty when used well. And Nekoma pulled it off perfectly."
Takeda nodded slowly, truly impressed.
The game continues. Both sides traded points back and forth, neither yielding. Karasuno got ahead, 10–8. Jin was their spearhead, but Tanaka and Asahi also score through when they had the chance. Still, Nekoma's steadiness was relentless. Every time Jin spike down, Nekoma found a way to return a point back.
Falling behind carried its own pressure but being chased down again and again? That was worse.
"Oi, Kageyama." Jin strode over, smirking but serious inside. "If this keeps up, they'll drag us into their rhythm. Hurry up and bring it on."
Kageyama's scowl deepened. "I know. But even the senpais' spikes can't crack their defense. And that damn setter," he glanced across at Kenma, who was unreadable as always, "…he doesn't even flinch whether it works or not. It's piss me off."
Hinata butted in, practically bouncing in place. "And me! I still haven't had a proper spike yet! Kageyama, give me one already!"
Kageyama grabbed Hinata's head, squeezing irritably. "I hear you. Next one you'll get it. All you want."
Of course, he hadn't forgotten Hinata. He was just holding their card for the right moment.
Across the net, Yamamoto whispered to Inuoka, "Heads up. That number ten might be the next."
"That shrimp? Against me?" Inuoka scoffed lightly. "Even if he really spikes, he won't get past me."
He wanted to shut down Jin instead, but Kuroo had been taking most of those blocks himself. Even if Jin broke through, Kuroo never looked shaken.
Kenma finally spoke, his calm tone edged with warning. "Don't underestimate anyone."
Inuoka scratched his head. "Yeah, yeah. Just saying. Don't worry."
…
"It's messy!" Kuroo expressed from the right side, calling his teammates tighter into position.
Karasuno rotated. Kageyama moved to set. With Jin in the back row, the front line was just Asahi and Hinata. Kuroo read it instantly. 'They'll toss to three.'
"Inuoka, double with me!" Kuroo shouted, pulling him in.
Asahi sprinted to approach but at the very last second, Kageyama's set arced the other way. Hinata was already in the air, eyes squeezed shut, swinging by instinct.
*Bam!*
The ball shot down before Nekoma could adjust.
"Closed eyes!?" someone gasped.
"Another freak quick!"
"Karasuno's insane… is that even possible?"
The gym erupted. Even Nekoma's legendary steadiness wavered for a moment. The red jerseys shifted, unsettled, as Hinata landed, panting but grinning ear to ear.
"Hinata… you really are amazing," Kenma muttered on Nekoma's side.
Karasuno had cracked the shield again.