Shiratorizawa took three consecutive points during Wakatoshi Ushijima's service game, forcing Aoba Johsai to reconsider their strategy. "C
Shiratorizawa took three consecutive points during Wakatoshi Ushijima's service game, forcing Aoba Johsai to reconsider their strategy. "C
Shiratorizawa took three consecutive points during Wakatoshi Ushijima's service game, forcing Aoba Johsai to reconsider their strategy.
"Calling a timeout is pointless. Little Ushiwaka only scored directly with his first serve—the next two points came from spikes. We just need to figure out how to receive his spikes," Oikawa analyzed.
"No kidding. If we could receive Wakatoshi Ushijima's spikes that easily, we wouldn't have lost to Shiratorizawa all these years," Matsukawa Issei deadpanned with lifeless eyes.
Oikawa coughed awkwardly. "Aoba Johsai isn't the same as before. We have fresh blood now. At the very least, try for a one-touch block during the net defense—like what Yuuki did earlier. If we can slow the ball down, our back row will have a chance to receive it."
"TWEET—"
The whistle blew, resuming the match.
Iwaizumi Hajime received Wakatoshi Ushijima's third serve, and Oikawa set it to Hanamaki Takahiro for a quick attack. Since it was the first time this tactic appeared in the match, even Satori Tendo was momentarily fooled. Shiratorizawa's three-man block mistimed their jump, allowing Hanamaki to spike the ball cleanly over the net.
"Scoring against Shiratorizawa isn't that easy!"
Kenjirō Shirabu, positioned in the back row, reacted instantly. His eyes locked onto the ball the entire time, and the moment he saw their block fail, he dove forward for a desperate receive. In his haste, he didn't even have time to brace his fall with his hands—his upper body slammed hard against the court.
"Cover the ball!"
Gritting his teeth in pain, Shirabu shouted to alert his teammates before even getting up.
"I got it!" Kazuyoshi Taira stepped forward. Despite his rough appearance, his setting motion was fluid, gently lofting the falling ball straight to Wakatoshi Ushijima's waiting hands.
Again?!
The sight of Wakatoshi Ushijima leaping with full force sent a shiver down the spines of Aoba Johsai's three front-row players. Clenching their teeth, they jumped to block.
Wakatoshi Ushijima's calm eyes met the silver-haired boy who had just touched his spike. Wanting to test the boy's limits, he swung his arm with full power, smashing the ball directly into Yuuki's blocking arms.
SMACK!
Yuuki's arms barely slowed the ball for an instant before his defense completely collapsed. The force of the spike sent him staggering backward, his balance lost.
"One-touch!"
Still, he had successfully reduced the ball's speed, transforming what should have been an invisible, lethal spike into merely a fast, powerful one.
"Nice job, Yuuki! Leave the receive to your big bro!"
Yuma Kikuzawa didn't waste the opportunity his brother had earned. He lunged forward, receiving the ball and returning the offensive chance to Aoba Johsai.
Sweat dripped down his face as Yuma looked up at the descending ball, his eyes tracing every spin of its surface. Taking a deep breath, he suddenly shouted, "Set it to me!"
After so many receives, he'd almost forgotten he was an attacker.
Oikawa, who had been about to set to Iwaizumi Hajime, hesitated for a split second—but his body moved on instinct, sending the ball to the boy radiating overwhelming momentum.
Yuma took two explosive steps, swinging his arm back before stomping the ground with a sharp sound. In the next instant, he was airborne, his left arm straight as he swung for the spike.
His attacking form was unmistakable. All three of Shiratorizawa's front-row players jumped early, forming a solid wall of six raised arms.
Without Wakatoshi Ushijima's monstrous strength, brute-forcing through this defense was impossible.
And with a back-row attack, going over the block wasn't an option either.
"Come on, Aoba Johsai's rookie. Let's see how you handle this," Satori Tendo mused, lips curling as he watched intently.
Midair, Yuma had mere milliseconds to think.
The entire net was sealed. A cross shot would likely go out of bounds. That left only one option.
A moving reticle appeared in his vision, locking onto a target. He swung.
To Shiratorizawa's confusion, the ball veered far from their block, arcing toward the far left edge of the net.
A mishit? That angle was definitely going out.
But in the next second, their eyes widened in disbelief as the ball struck the very top of the net, rolled halfway over, and dropped vertically onto their side of the court.
Even Satori Tendo and the other two blockers were stunned. Tsutomu Goshiki and Kenjirō Shirabu, positioned in the back, broke out in cold sweat at the sudden net-in shot.
They scrambled to save it—but it was too late. Shiratorizawa could only watch in frustration as the devious ball landed on their court.
"TWEET—"
Aoba Johsai 10 : Shiratorizawa 5
"Whew—that was close."
Seeing his shot barely make it over, Yuma exhaled sharply, wiping sweat from his brow.
His nerves had been only slightly less frayed than Shiratorizawa's.
"What was that shot, Yuma-chan? Did you actually aim for the net?"
Oikawa voiced the question on everyone's mind, looking genuinely baffled.
Yuma grinned, raising a thumbs-up and tilting his chin up proudly. "Yep! A calculated net-in shot! Worship me! I'm just that amazing! Wahahaha—"
The Aoba Johsai players, who had been about to praise him, promptly shut their mouths, expressions deadpan.
Iwaizumi Hajime felt his fist twitch. He held back. Then held back again. Ultimately, he failed, delivering a solid thump to both Oikawa and Yuma's heads.
Yuma instantly deflated. "Sorry for gloating… QAQ"
Oikawa rubbed his head in confusion. "Ow! I get hitting Yuma-chan, but why me?!"
Iwaizumi grabbed Oikawa by the head, his expression dark. "Yuma wasn't like this before. You must've corrupted him. As captain, set a better example, you bastard!"
"How cruel… o(╥﹏╥)o"
"TWEET————!"
The referee's whistle blew unusually long, as if trying to silence Aoba Johsai's chaos.
When they turned, they saw Shiratorizawa's temporary referee—an unfamiliar staff member—glaring at them coldly.
Aoba Johsai hastily apologized, narrowly avoiding a yellow card.
...
Shiratorizawa's players stared at the scoreboard—10:5—their mood heavy.
"My, my~ This isn't looking good, Wakatoshi-kun. We're five points behind Aoba Johsai~"
Satori Tendo rested his hands on his hips, smiling faintly—but his eyes were sharp.
"That rookie from Aoba Johsai is something else. We're completely on the back foot."
Kenjirō Shirabu gritted his teeth. "I'm sorry, Ushijima-senpai. If my sets had been faster—"
Wakatoshi Ushijima remained expressionless. "No. It's my fault. My spikes didn't score."
Straightening, he addressed his team calmly. "I'll score from now on."
It was a promise from their ace.
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