Unconsciously moving his fingers, Hayato focused, preparing for Seijoh's attack.
The spirited shouts of his teammates around him made him want to laugh; how had he ended up being the careless one?
Winning several consecutive matches had made him a bit arrogant, and as a result, he was too eager on this match point. His intentions were guessed, leading to a lost point and a tied score, and he even showed that expression just now, needing others to comfort him.
Shaking his head to himself, Hayato was very dissatisfied with his performance.
Everyone was right; they hadn't lost yet.
If they lost a point, they'd get it back.
It was just a tie, wasn't it?
They'd played tied games in practice matches before.
When it came to persistence, Karasuno wouldn't lose to any other team.
With the score tied, Seijoh's Ace, Iwaizumi, still chose to continue with a jump serve attack.
"Nishinoya!"
Daichi called out the familiar name, and Nishinoya reacted instantly, his knees bending like springs before launching into a low, sharp dive. His forearms absorbed the impact with a sharp thud as the ball skidded off his platform and popped upward, stable enough for the setter.
At the same time, all of Karasuno launched into motion. Shoes squeaked on the court; the rhythm of attack was set.
Kageyama unhesitatingly positioned himself under the ball, hands rising. His sharp eyes scanned the net—then chose without pause. He flung the ball upward with perfect precision to Hayato, because he felt that if Hayato could successfully spike this ball, it would not only help Hayato himself but also greatly boost Karasuno's morale.
"Hayato-senpai!"
"Spike it!"
"Hayato!"
From the bench, Sugawara and Yamaguchi shouted Hayato's name to cheer him on, and the Karasuno crowd in the stands also yelled for him to strike.
Hayato exploded upward, his legs driving off the polished floor with all the strength he'd built from endless training. His arm arced back like a whip, eyes narrowing on the blockers rising to meet him.
At this moment, Seijoh's blockers also followed—hands spreading wide, eyes locked.
"I'm Karasuno's Ace. How could I fail here? Try this!"
Hayato roared inwardly, twisting his torso and swinging his arm fiercely.
The volleyball smashed into Kindaichi's palm with brutal force, the impact knocking him backward midair. The ball's spin shifted violently, streaking past the defense toward the backcourt.
Seijoh's Libero sprang forward, knees scraping against the floor as he lunged, but the ball was just out of reach.
Near the wall, the volleyball finally landed. The whistle for a valid point shrilled through the gym.
Clenching his right hand, which was red and swollen from the powerful spike, Hayato raised his single arm high, his breath ragged but triumphant.
"Alright!"
The others rushed in, slapping his back and shoulders in excitement.
"Nice hit, Hayato!"
"Awesome spike!"
After Hayato personally regained a point, Karasuno erupted in huge cheers. From the bench to the stands, everyone excitedly shouted Hayato's name.
By taking this point with a powerful spike, Hayato restored Karasuno's momentum.
When Karasuno attacked again, taking advantage of the opportunity ball, Hayato deliberately drew Seijoh's blockers. His sharp feint steps pulled their eyes upward.
Kageyama caught it instantly. With a fluid back set, the ball soared.
From behind Hayato's shadow rose the little crow himself—Hinata Shoyo. His jump seemed to defy gravity, orange hair blazing under the lights.
"Take this!"
Hinata swung with everything he had, connecting midair. The ball cracked through the seam before Seijoh's defense could close in.
The Libero threw his body forward, fingers stretching, but the ball streaked just past his reach and slammed onto the hardwood.
"Nice, Shoyo!"
"Good hit, Hinata!"
"Thanks for the compliment!"
Hinata beamed, rubbing the back of his head with his usual grin.
And then, Hayato rotated into the serving position.
The entire court tensed. His presence at the line felt heavier than the whistle itself.
Seijoh's bench muttered in frustration.
"Damn it, it's him."
"Troublesome, he's definitely going for a jump serve."
Standing with the ball in his hands, Hayato exhaled slowly. The gym seemed to quiet, as if even the crowd's cheers faded into the distance. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
"This is it. Decide it now."
He tossed the ball high. His run-up was steady, then explosive—the rhythm of a predator honing in. His body bowed in the air, every muscle coiled.
If aura could materialize, Seijoh would have seen it: a giant black falcon spreading its wings behind Hayato, feathers bristling as its golden eyes locked onto prey.
The snap of his swing cut through the silence.
Oikawa's hair stood on end. He hadn't even finished shouting instructions when—
BOOM!
The ball screamed over the net, too fast to follow, slamming like a meteor into Seijoh's court.
Service Ace!
27:25.
Karasuno won the first set!
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