After spraying Asahi's bruise and applying a medicated patch, Sugawara—ever the team's mother hen—still wasn't satisfied. With gentle insistence, he tugged Asahi toward the infirmary.
Unable to resist, Asahi gave in and followed.
"Alright, everyone, put your luggage in the car. Time to head back."
Daichi didn't follow them. The bruise looked alarming at first glance, but since it had been treated quickly, it wasn't serious enough to keep them there. The match was over; it was time to return to school.
They packed up efficiently. Clothes, water bottles, first-aid kits, and the floor mats they'd rested on—each person had something in hand.
Hayato had wanted to help Kiyoko and the others, but aside from Hitoka, Saeko and the cheer squad had already gathered around her. The sight of Karasuno's impressive female entourage drew envious stares from other teams still lingering in the arena.
Naturally, Nishinoya and Tanaka puffed out their chests and strutted at the very front of the group, proud beyond measure.
Some, however, broke off for the restroom—Hinata leading the way, with Yamaguchi and Hayato following behind.
And of course, Hinata plus the restroom meant one thing: an event was bound to happen.
Hayato, genuinely just tagging along, didn't expect to bump into two very familiar figures—Oikawa and Ushijima.
"Whoa… the Great King and Ushijima."
Hinata froze on the spot. Even he could tell from the sharp air between them that the two were in the middle of a tense standoff.
"Yo, isn't this Oikawa-senpai and Ushijima-senpai? What a coincidence."
Hayato smiled as if the atmosphere weren't suffocating, greeting both casually.
Two pairs of eyes snapped toward him at once. Hinata nearly wilted under the combined pressure, while Yamaguchi instinctively shrank behind Hayato, pretending he didn't exist.
"Perfect timing," Oikawa said smoothly, his smile carrying a sharp edge. "Ushijima, you said your team is the strongest right now. That's not necessarily true, is it? After all, you haven't faced Karasuno yet."
He pointed straight at Hayato.
"If you really are the strongest, then beating them should be easy, right?"
It was an obvious provocation, but both Aces took the bait. Sparks seemed to crackle in the air as Hayato met Ushijima's eyes head-on.
Strangely enough, when faced with a powerhouse like Ushijima, Hayato's aura didn't falter. In fact, his Ace instincts flared even stronger, overshadowing the moments of doubt he'd carried after Seijoh.
And then—
"And me! I won't lose to you either!"
Hinata, usually terrified of people like Ushijima, leapt forward without hesitation when it came to volleyball. He bounced on his toes, squeezing into the tense line of sight between the two Aces, his fiery presence impossible to ignore.
Ushijima studied him for a moment, recognition flashing across his face, before shifting his gaze back to Hayato.
"Tomorrow, Shiratorizawa will win."
"Then let's look forward to tomorrow," Hayato replied coolly.
No need for more words—on the court, skill would decide everything.
With that, Ushijima turned and strode away.
(Huh… why is it always the restroom entrance with him? Did he even go inside?) Hayato thought absently.
"Hmph." Oikawa folded his arms, rolling his eyes. "Don't think for a second I'm rooting for you just because I said that. Honestly, it'd be hilarious if you lost."
Hinata blinked in surprise. It was his first time seeing the Great King act so… childish.
And yet, even as he muttered complaints, Oikawa cast one last glance at Hayato and Hinata before leaving.
(They're a good team… Hayato Kuroha, Hinata Shoyo… it might be interesting to set for them once.)
He would never say it out loud, of course. The thought stayed buried as he walked away, a rare, unspoken honesty behind his tsundere act.
The heavy atmosphere dispersed with their departure. Hinata and Yamaguchi both exhaled loudly, relief flooding their faces.
The contrast was almost funny—so fierce on the court, so timid outside it.
Shaking his head with a smile, Hayato finally entered the restroom.
"Weren't you two going? Hurry up before the others leave without us."
"Ah! Right!"
"Coming!"
Once they were finished, they rejoined the main group. By the entrance, a notice board displayed tomorrow's matchups.
On the men's side, it was printed in bold:
Miyagi Prefecture Representative Deciding Match (Men's): Shiratorizawa vs. Karasuno.
Hinata and Kageyama stood before it, staring silently.
"Hey, you two, what are you waiting for?" Tanaka called back, puzzled.
Hitoka followed their gaze, then nodded in quiet understanding. "Oh, I see…" She left them alone, returning to the bus.
"Tomorrow… we'll be playing Shiratorizawa."
"Yeah."
"I'll show you the strength of concrete."
The two stood rooted in front of the notice board, psyching themselves up.
Tanaka chuckled when Hitoka explained. "Got it. Let's leave them be."
Before long, Takeda-sensei started the engine of the rented bus. As dusk fell, the team rode home under the fading glow of the sun.
With Saeko escorting the cheer squad, only the volleyball club members filled the bus.
Completely spent, the players sank into their seats. The warm light streaming through the windows lulled them, and one by one, they drifted off to sleep—even Hayato.
"Everyone's out cold already," Takeda-sensei murmured, eyes on the road.
"Not surprising," Ukai replied from behind him. "Two matches in one day, plus the mental strain of facing Seijoh… It was tougher than any practice. But they pulled through."
Takeda smiled. "That's thanks to their hard work—and your guidance, Coach Ukai. On behalf of everyone, I thank you."
Ukai straightened in his seat, answering seriously. "No, Takeda-sensei. If anyone deserves thanks, it's you."
Takeda blinked. "Me?"
"For a team like ours, which had no connections, to play practice matches in Tokyo—it was you who made that happen. Students can only grow when they face strong opponents. Rebuilding ties with Nekoma… that's a bond that will last even after these third-years graduate."
He glanced back at the dozing underclassmen.
"So yes. You've done more for this team than anyone realizes. Thank you."
Takeda's hands tightened on the steering wheel. The words embarrassed him, but they also warmed him.
"You're overpraising me," he said quietly. Then, after a pause, he smiled. "It's not too late to thank me properly after we win tomorrow."
Only one step remained.
If they could defeat Shiratorizawa, Karasuno would finally take flight toward Nationals.
It was the dream of players, coaches, managers, teachers—and everyone who had supported them all along.
Tomorrow, Karasuno would rise.
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