The gym smelled faintly of resin and fresh polish, the echoes of sneakers squeaking over hardwood bouncing off the high ceiling like rhythmic percussion. Morning light streamed through the windows in thin golden beams, catching dust motes in their slow drift. Ukai stood in the center with his arms crossed and a clipboard in one hand, tapping the pen against the paper like a ticking clock.
"We're not playing a normal team next," he said, voice carrying that coach's tone that sounded equal parts warning and challenge. "Johzenji doesn't run 'plays.' They run chaos."
Hinata was bouncing on the balls of his feet like someone had fed him straight espresso. "Chaos sounds fun!"
"Chaos sounds like a migraine," Yachi muttered from the side, clutching the scout notes in both hands like they might explode. Kiyoko, standing next to her, wore the same calm, almost impassive look she always did, though the faint upward twitch at the corner of her mouth suggested she was mildly entertained.
Ukai continued, "They don't stick to positions, their attacks are unpredictable, and they switch sets mid-air. They're like—"
"—a flock of pigeons," Akira cut in, leaning casually against the wall with his arms folded. The words came out smooth, but his grin was sharp enough to cut glass.
That earned a laugh from Hinata so sudden and loud he nearly toppled over, clutching his stomach. "Pigeons! Oh my god—imagine them flapping around the net—"
"Hinata," Kageyama said in that flat, slightly annoyed tone of his, "shut up."
Akira smirked. "Hey, I'm just calling it like it is. They're fast, noisy, and they'll poop all over your clean rotations if you're not careful."
Ukai gave him a flat look, but didn't disagree. "Alright, Ace, since you're so good at analogies, you'll be leading the unpredictability drills today."
Akira straightened off the wall with an easy shrug. "My pleasure."
The next hour was a blur of strange, borderline ridiculous mini-scrimmages.
"No one can spike in the same direction twice in a row!" Akira called out, tossing a ball high to Kageyama, who immediately set to Tanaka—only for Tanaka to mid-air tip it sideways toward Nishinoya.
"Setters rotate every two points!"
This forced even Hinata to toss a ball awkwardly when it came his way, which made everyone groan when his set arced wildly into the rafters.
"And no one stays in their position! Move! MOVE!"
The drill devolved into organized mayhem, players sprinting in zig-zags, feinting spikes, laughing when someone got faked out. But in between the chaos, Akira was watching with hawk-like focus, mentally noting who adapted quickly and who froze when the rhythm broke.
The gym doors slid open mid-drill and Izumi stepped in, a plastic bag of snacks hooked over her arm.
"Delivery!" she sang, her voice light and teasing.
A couple heads turned, but Akira was already grinning. "Look who decided to bless us with her royal presence."
She walked up, her sneakers squeaking on the polished floor. "Royal presence, huh? Funny coming from the guy whose hair looks like it lost a fight with his pillow."
Hinata burst out laughing again, and Kageyama visibly bit back a smile. Akira just rolled his eyes and took the bag from her.
Izumi turned her attention to Kageyama. "So, you're the big scary setter, huh? I'm putting my bets on you to win the serve war tomorrow."
Kageyama blinked, caught off guard. "...Uh, okay."
Then she looked at Hinata and smirked. "And you… you're gonna meet people more chaotic than you. Try not to explode."
"More chaotic than me?" Hinata gasped in mock offense. "Impossible!"
"You'll see," she said sweetly, clearly enjoying herself.
After snacks were devoured, Ukai wheeled in the TV cart for film study.
Johzenji's game footage played, and the gym filled with the sounds of laughter and gasps—not from Karasuno, but from the players in the video, who yelled and cheered like they were at a festival instead of a tournament.
"They don't even look at the ball until the last second!" Nishinoya exclaimed.
"And they're switching spikers mid-jump," Daichi noted.
Akira leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "Their libero overcommits. See? Every time there's a flashy fake, he bites and leaves a gap in the back."
Ukai nodded. "Exactly. If we can make them bite without actually changing direction, we'll punish those gaps."
Kageyama and Hinata exchanged a look, then immediately headed to the court to test an open-eyed quick. The first few attempts were rough—Hinata's timing was off—but Akira's voice cut in like a coach's whistle.
"Hinata. Stop staring at Kageyama like he's gonna read your mind. Use your eyes. Find your spot before you jump."
On the next attempt, Hinata's gaze tracked the blockers—then shifted—and his spike slammed into untouched floor space.
Akira's grin widened. "That's more like it."
During a water break, the gym doors opened again. This time it was Oikawa, strolling in like he owned the place.
"Well, well," he drawled. "Warming up for the warm-up match, little brother?"
Akira didn't even look up from his water bottle. "At least I'm not scared of chaos, unlike some people who like their plays perfectly choreographed."
Oikawa's smile was sharp. "Choreography wins games, you know."
Izumi, sitting on the sideline munching senbei, piped up, "At least Akira doesn't make his teammates do interpretive dance every time they score a point."
That made several Karasuno players choke on their drinks.
Akira smirked. "Don't worry, big bro. We'll save a seat for you to watch us win."
Oikawa just gave him a mock salute and sauntered out, leaving the gym buzzing with amusement.
The sun was already setting when practice wound down. The warm orange glow painted the court, the sound of sneakers giving way to softer footsteps as everyone packed up.
Karasuno walked toward the arena the next day, their shoes thumping in unison on the concrete path. The air was electric with anticipation.
From inside, they could already hear Johzenji's music pumping, the loud chants and laughter echoing like a party spilling into the streets.
Hinata's eyes were wide, his grin uncontainable.
Akira adjusted his elbow pad, gaze narrowing just slightly.
This was going to be fun.