“We’ve been played!”
At that moment, that was the only thought running through Akaashi Keiji’s mind. He just realized what had been bothering him all this time.
When Bokuto started sulking earlier, Aoba Johsai didn’t seem surprised at all. And now, seeing the big change in Asuto’s presence before and after that moment, Akaashi immediately understood. They had deliberately taken advantage of Bokuto’s emotional instability.
“So their plan was to make the score difference bigger while Bokuto-san was stuck in negative mode… What a clever strategy. But how did they know exactly when Bokuto-san would enter negative mode?”
That was the biggest question on Akaashi’s mind.
After all, Fukurōdani is one of the strongest teams in the nation, and many opponents have studied them closely over the years. Many teams had tried to take advantage of Bokuto’s many well-known weaknesses to beat Fukurōdani, but almost all of those attempts had failed. Even Akaashi, after spending years studying what he jokingly called the “Owl Raising Manual,” still didn’t fully understand Bokuto’s habits and mood swings.
He genuinely wanted to know how the other side had managed to understand Bokuto so thoroughly in such a short amount of time. That level of insight was worthy of admiration. If they weren’t in the middle of a match, he might have even been tempted to ask them to teach him.
Of course, if Akaashi had known that even Oikawa, despite having prepared this strategy beforehand, hadn’t expected Bokuto to suddenly enter negative mode at that exact moment… he probably wouldn’t have been so impressed.
[It’s in!]
[Bokuto Kotaro scores again! He has scored consecutive points!]
[As expected of one of the nation’s top five aces, Mr. Ota! Bokuto’s technique is already among the very best in Japan. If he performed better, he might be in the top three!]
[Exactly, Mr. Oda! However, although Bokuto has scored eleven straight points since recovering, the score difference between the two teams hasn’t shrunk at all!]
[Well, that’s only natural. After all, Aoba Johsai’s Ace is also a national-level superstar. Both players are displaying offensive power that has surpassed the high school level. And with a setter like Oikawa Tooru backing Akashi Asuto, stopping Aoba Johsai is an incredibly difficult task!]
After nearly half an hour of intense back-and-forth play, the scoreboard read 23–19.
Ever since Bokuto had snapped out of negative mode, Fukurōdani’s offense had exploded. Bokuto alone had scored an astonishing eleven points, accounting for well over half of his team’s total score.
But even so, the gap between Fukurōdani and Aoba Johsai hadn’t narrowed in the slightest. Bokuto’s return to form had greatly strengthened Fukurōdani’s offense, but it had done little to improve their defense.
More importantly, since Oikawa and Asuto had already planned to build a lead while Bokuto was trapped in negative mode, there was no way they were going to let Fukurōdani erase that advantage so easily.
Whoosh!
The volleyball shot out of Oikawa’s hands on an almost perfectly flat trajectory. It flew like a bullet. Before Fukurōdani’s defenders could even react, it had already arrived directly in front of Asuto.
Bang!
Asuto swung his arm down without hesitation, slamming the ball violently into the opponents court.
Tweet!
The referee’s whistle rang out, and the scoreboard flipped to 24–19. The lead returned to five points once again. At the same time, Aoba Johsai reached set point in the opening set.
“Damn it! Why can’t we close the gap?!” Washio Tatsuki, Fukurōdani’s middle blocker, slammed his fist through the air, his face filled with frustration.
“Calm down, Washio.” Outside hitter Konoha Akinori let out a slow breath, forcing his pounding heart to settle before continuing. “Since they already planned to take advantage of Bokuto, there’s no way they’d let us catch up so easily.”
“…And besides.” He paused for a moment before turning toward Aoba Johsai’s side of the court.
His eyes settled on Asuto, who was expressionlessly walking toward Position 1 with the ball in hand. Then there was Oikawa, standing in the backcourt with his usual carefree smile. Catching Konoha’s gaze, Oikawa even raised a hand and casually waved at him.
Konoha sighed. “And with those two over there… even if Bokuto hadn’t gone into one of his slumps this set, we still might not have won.”
…
BOOM!
A thunderous crack echoed throughout the arena as Asuto unleashed another blistering serve, traveling at well over 100 km/h. No one on Fukurōdani could stop it.
It was the final point of the set.
Tweet…!
The referee blew the whistle.
National Tournament – Second Round
First Set Winner: Aoba Johsai
Both teams walked off the court. Unlike during the prefectural qualifiers, there were no celebrations from either the winners or the losers. At the National Tournament, everyone understood one thing: until the final whistle blew, no one could say who would ultimately emerge victorious.
“We got completely outplayed.” Watching his players return to the bench, Fukurōdani’s coach rubbed his chin and looked toward Aoba Johsai. “It seems they’ve got quite the strategist over there.”
“I’m sorry, Coach,” Akaashi said. “I failed to see through their plan.”
“No.” The coach shook his head. “This isn’t your fault. It’s simply a weakness our team has always had. Previous opponents just never managed to exploit it.”
He looked back across the court. “That Aoba Johsai team really is something. Whether it’s that first-year Ace or their Setter, both of them are extraordinary. And yet… I’d never even heard of either of them before. That’s honestly unbelievable.”
Even as he spoke, the coach found it hard to believe.
‘A team with players of that caliber had somehow never made it to Nationals before. Just what kind of hellish prefectural bracket had they been trapped in all this time?’
“Coach,” One of Fukurōdani’s female team managers interrupted with a helpless sigh, pressing a hand against her forehead. “This isn’t exactly the time to be praising the other team, is it? If we can’t come up with a way to deal with Aoba Johsai next set, we’re going home.”
“A way?” The coach blinked before waving dismissively. “We don’t need anything like that. After all… the one responsible for leading the team to victory has always been the Ace. Isn’t that right, Bokuto?”
Sitting on the bench with a towel draped over his head, Bokuto slowly lifted his face. Beneath the shadow cast by the arena lights, his sharp, owl-like eyes gleamed with renewed determination.
A grin spread across his face. “You’re absolutely right, Coach.”
…
Meanwhile, on Aoba Johsai’s bench…
“Good work, everyone.” Coach Irihata Nobuteru nodded in satisfaction. “You all played an excellent first set. Keep up this pace in the next one. And whatever happens, don’t let the other team disrupt your rhythm. Understood?”
“Yes, Coach!” everyone answered in unison.
Just then, however, Asuto narrowed his eyes as he looked toward Fukurōdani’s bench.
“No… I think we’d better prepare ourselves to face another Ushiwaka in the next set.” He smiled faintly. “Because… the real match is only just beginning.”
(End of Chapter)