During the timeout between sets, both teams quickly rehydrated and tried to recover their stamina. The first set, stretching all the way to 27 points, had been so intense it tested everyone's lungs and legs. But the match wasn't over. They still had the second set ahead—and in the worst case, if Aoba Johsai took it, they would be dragged into a third. Every second of recovery mattered.
"To be honest, the situation in the first set was beyond my expectation, but it also proved Aoba Johsai's strength. Hayato, are you still okay?"
Ukai looked toward Hayato, who was bent forward, towel pressed against his forehead, sweat dripping onto the polished floor. Originally, he had planned to swap Hayato for Asahi, but Hayato's final point in the first set had been too impactful to ignore. The energy he had given the team still lingered.
"I can still play, Coach."
Without hesitation, Hayato's eyes burned. His meaning was clear: he was fine—and he didn't want to be taken out.
"Good, I understand. Then you will still start. The new No. 16 on the opposite side is a big threat, but don't get too caught up in him. Hmm… since you've already reflected on your mistake, I won't say more."
Ukai turned to the others to discuss tactics. Meanwhile, Hayato tugged the towel down from his face, adjusting his breathing. The frustration of his earlier error was gone. What mattered now was locking onto the feeling of that final spike and serve—the sensation of being unstoppable.
On the sideline, Kiyoko stood beside Takeda, her eyes fixed on Hayato. She had worried that his misstep would linger in his heart. But when he lowered the towel, his eyes gleamed like the sharp gaze of a predatory hawk. Kiyoko froze, feeling her chest tighten.
That look… she had never seen Hayato like this before. It was terrifying and beautiful all at once. What kind of surprise would he show them next?
On Aoba Johsai's bench, Oikawa was still haunted by the memory of that last serve.
"That No. 13, Kuroha-kun, will be even more threatening in the second set," he warned, his voice low but sharp.
Then his eyes shifted back to Karasuno's side of the court. Hayato's final jump serve replayed in his mind—a strike that seemed to rip the air apart.
"Seriously, how did such a person suddenly appear? And he went to Karasuno of all places."
Oikawa muttered under his breath. Kageyama was already a thorn in his side, especially when combined with "Little Shorty." Now Karasuno had added an attacker whose raw power rivaled Ushijima. Their defense might still have gaps, but offensively, they were terrifying.
"Don't worry," Iwaizumi cut in, stepping forward with his usual steady presence. "Even if we lose a point, I'll get it back."
"Yo, Ace."
"So reliable."
The third-years grinned and teased him, their casual tone lightening the tension. Oikawa shook his head and pushed aside his thoughts.
"Okay~ then let's cheer up and win this set back."
The break ended. The courts were swapped, and the lineups stayed the same. This time, however, Hayato stepped to the baseline first.
As he adjusted the ball in his hands, he glanced toward the stands.
"Oh! Hayato is waving to us!"
From the crowd, Koyuki's yellow ponytail bounced as she flailed her pom-poms in return, cheeks flushed. The nail-biting finish to the first set had her palms sweaty. When the older members of the neighborhood association explained how grim the odds were after Karasuno was tied at 24, Koyuki's stomach had twisted. But Hayato's final serve had flipped despair into exhilaration.
It wasn't just a point. It was a statement.
Even now, Koyuki could feel goosebumps thinking of how the ball had cut through the air—gone in a blink, smashing into the court before the defense even blinked. The roar of the crowd, the electric energy of Karasuno, the look of pride on Hayato's face—she clenched her fists, screaming her heart out.
"Hehe, it looks like the earlier mistake didn't affect him too much, Hayato! Serve a good one!"
Her voice carried across the gym. And in that moment, Hayato smiled faintly to himself.
The whistle blew. Hayato tossed the ball high, his arm drawing back. His legs coiled and then released like springs.
BOOM!
The ball tore through the air and crashed into Aoba Johsai's court before their Libero could even flinch.
Service ace.
The crowd gasped, their cheers swelling louder than before. Hayato's serve had carried the same weight as his final one in the first set, proving it wasn't just luck—this was his weapon.
"Nice serve, Hayato!"
"Good job, Hayato-senpai!"
He high-fived his teammates, his palm stinging from the contact, then jogged back to position. But on his second attempt, Aoba Johsai's Libero crouched low, arms perfectly angled. The ball popped up cleanly.
"We train against Oikawa and Iwa-chan every day. Don't think your jump serves alone can take us down!"
The chance ball soared, and Oikawa leapt into position, his hands moving fluidly.
Would he set to Iwaizumi on the left? Kyotani charging from the backline? Karasuno's eyes flickered between them—just enough of a pause.
Oikawa's set flashed like lightning. Iwaizumi rose, body twisting midair, and his spike pounded through Karasuno's defense, sending dust flying from the floor.
Point, Aoba Johsai.
"Yeah!" Iwaizumi pumped his fist, high-fiving Oikawa so hard the setter winced.
"Ouch, Iwa-chan! Save that strength for the ball!" Oikawa hissed, shaking his hand.
"You don't need to tell me. Now hurry up and serve."
Oikawa grabbed the ball, spinning it in his hands as he strolled to the baseline.
"Well then, it's our turn to respond. Be ready, Kuroha-kun."
Across the net, his smirk was unmistakably a challenge.
Hayato crouched low, spreading his arms, eyes locked on Oikawa. His voice rang across the court.
"Bring it on!"
"Oh~ that's the spirit." Oikawa chuckled, tossing the ball into the air.
"Go for it!" Daichi barked, and Hinata added a louder shout—only to get scolded by Kageyama.
The toss arced high. Oikawa's smooth jump connected, and the ball screamed toward Karasuno's side.
Shoes squeaked. Players shifted—
Out!
The linesman's flag shot up.
Karasuno's bench erupted.
"Ah! Sorry, everyone!" Oikawa scratched his head, but his teammates brushed it off with easy smiles.
Daichi, however, narrowed his eyes at the mark on the floor. The ball had barely missed.
Heh… it looks like this will be a tough battle.
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