The scoreboard read 20–20.Not just a tie.A declaration that now was the real match.
The air was thick—too hot for an early-season practice match, too charged for anyone to sit comfortably. Even the crowd's cheers were different now; less random noise, more like waves crashing against the gym walls, surging in rhythm with the play.
Akira rolled his shoulders, eyes locked on the far end of the court where Oikawa spun the ball lazily in his palm.
"Don't glare at me like that, little brother," Oikawa called over the net, his smile playful but eyes sharp. "People will think you missed me."
Akira gave him the smallest smirk. "Miss you? I'm just checking if you're still alive after sitting out half the game."
A flicker of a laugh from the crowd, but Oikawa's grin only widened.Cheeky brat. You've been waiting for me to get serious… fine.
The whistle cut the air. Oikawa's serve arced high, a floating dagger that skimmed just over the net.
Nishinoya dove, sliding in a clean dig. "Up!"Kageyama was already under it, eyes darting between Hinata and Akira.
Akira didn't yell for it—didn't need to. The look was enough.
Kageyama's set snapped to him in one fluid motion, and Akira detonated across-court, threading the spike just inside the line.
THUNK.
The sound hit the gym before the crowd could.
21–20, Karasuno.
"Nicely done, first-year!" Tanaka bellowed from the bench, pumping his fist.On the other side, Oikawa caught the ball from the floor boy, spinning it again in his palm.
"Oh, so that's how you want to play."
Next serve—another rocket. This time it pushed Tsukishima into a twisted receive, floating too high for comfort. Iwaizumi punished it with a cross-court hammer.
21–21.
The next rally was chaos in motion:Nishinoya digging low.Kageyama chasing a wild ball.Hinata's spike blocked straight down—only for Akira to sprawl and pop it back into play.
Akira glanced at Kageyama mid-motion."Trust me?"
Kageyama's answer was instant. "Yeah."
The set was lightning—Akira's arm a blur as he spiked past the block, landing with a sharp exhale.
22–21.
Oikawa smirked, tossing the ball for his serve. "Good set, Kageyama. You're finally learning not to choke."
Kageyama didn't bite. Not this time. His jaw was tight, but his eyes were clearer. No flinch, no rushed movements. Just control.
23–22. Hinata's quick—pure speed.23–23. Iwaizumi smashes the deep corner.24–23. Akira tools the block with a surgeon's precision.24–24. Tsukishima nets on the block.
"Feels like old times," Oikawa called over. "Me on one side, you on the other."
Akira tilted his head. "Difference is, I don't need to set the whole court on fire to win."
A laugh from Kageyama—quiet but there. A month ago, he'd have been rattled by Oikawa's taunts. Now he was smirking along with Akira.
28–28.
Oikawa's serve kissed the back line—Nishinoya dove, flinging the ball high to Kageyama.
Hinata was already in the air before the ball left Kageyama's hands—super quick, pure reflex. The sound of it hitting the floor was a gunshot.
29–28.
Ukai leaned forward. "They're reading each other without words now. That's not just a setter and a hitter anymore—they're partners."
30–30. The gym's noise collapsed into a low, vibrating hum.
Oikawa crouched low, eyes locked on Akira."Who breaks first, first-year?"
Akira's voice came back calm, even mocking. "Not me. You taught me better than that."
The next rally was a blur:Kageyama faking to Hinata.Akira swinging hard—blocked.Daichi saving it with a diving scoop.Kageyama sending it back to Hinata—Hinata smashing into the blockers again, but the rebound popped high.
Akira was already there.This time, he didn't spike.He set.
Kageyama blinked—then grinned. It wasn't a set meant for Hinata. It was for him.
The spike ripped down the line, unstoppable.
31–30.
On the bench, Oikawa's eyes narrowed, not in anger, but in recognition. He's teaching Kageyama my tricks… and that kid is actually learning them.
The final rally was a war. Five digs. Three tips. Two solid blocks.
When the ball finally floated high, Akira rose—no hesitation—and crushed it into the floor so hard the Seijoh libero flinched after it landed.
Whistle.
32–30, Karasuno.
The gym exploded in noise.
Oikawa caught Akira's gaze across the net. He smirked, nodding once.Alright, little brother… I'll remember this one