“Oh dear, oh dear~~ They really are a troublesome opponent!”
In Aoba Johsai’s bench area, Coach Irihata Nobuteru stroked his chin as he watched Fukurodani’s morale recover almost instantly under Bokuto Kotaro’s influence.
“The teams at Nationals just keep getting tougher. Even after being pushed this far, they can still stay this fired up. It’s honestly unbelievable.” He paused before quietly adding to himself, “But spirit alone isn’t going to solve what’s coming next.”
—
Thanks to Bokuto’s encouragement, Fukurodani’s libero finally settled down.
After scoring three straight points, Asuto’s serving touch had started to fade. His fourth serve wasn’t nearly as sharp, and after clearing the net, it was cleanly received by the Fukurodani libero.
“Akaashi, send it to me!” Even from the back row, Bokuto immediately called for the ball. As the set rose above him, Aoba Johsai’s front-row blockers reacted at once.
Kindaichi and Matsukawa moved the fastest, sliding directly in front of Bokuto and putting up a solid double block. But staring down four outstretched arms, Bokuto didn’t hesitate. He unleashed a powerful cross-court spike.
‘Bang!’
‘Smack!’
The two sounds rang out almost at the same time. The first was Bokuto crushing the ball. The second was the ball slamming into the block.
Matsukawa got a hand on the spike but couldn’t stop it completely. The ball caught the side of his arm, deflected off the block, and flew out of bounds.
’18–17.’
Fukurodani pulled one point back.
Yet despite the point, no one on the Fukurodani side celebrated except Bokuto, who was still cheering without a care in the world. Everyone else’s expressions turned grim.
Something was wrong.
As Bokuto’s longtime setter, and practically his personal owl keeper, Akaashi Keiji understood him better than anyone else on the team.
He was certain that Bokuto hadn’t intended to use the block for a touch-out. He had simply aimed for a cross-court winner to avoid the block.
But he’d missed.
Normally, a spike that doesn’t go exactly as intended isn’t a big deal. Even professional players can’t execute every attack perfectly, and points like that often come down to a bit of luck.
But this kind of mistake shouldn’t happen to Bokuto. At least, not right now.
Everyone on Fukurodani knew just how unstoppable Bokuto was when he was in rhythm. A ball like that should never have gone wrong.
There was only one explanation.
Bokuto’s rhythm had cooled off.
‘Damn… Was it because of those consecutive serves?’ Akaashi instantly understood.
At first, he’d thought Aoba Johsai had simply brought in their blond No. 16 substitute to put pressure on them with a serving run and break Fukurodani’s rhythm and morale. But now it was obvious that wasn’t their only goal.
Their real objective had been to cool Bokuto down.
Thinking back, because both sides had been trading points on serve, there hadn’t been a proper rally for five or six straight rotations. During that entire stretch, Bokuto had only served once and received one serve. He hadn’t attacked a single ball.
Bokuto’s personality meant that as long as the match stayed intense, he could keep his fighting spirit burning. But after going so long without touching the ball, even Bokuto couldn’t avoid losing a little of his rhythm.
It might only be a slight drop. But in the current situation, even that tiny change was enough to push Fukurodani to the brink.
Realizing this, cold sweat immediately formed on Akaashi’s forehead.
‘This is bad… We’re really in trouble now.’
—
[Fukurodani scores again!]
[As expected of their ace, Bokuto Kotaro! He breaks through Aoba Johsai’s double block once more with a brilliant spike that clips the sideline, keeping Fukurodani within striking distance.]
[But Fukurodani is still in a dangerous position. If Aoba Johsai wins the next rally, they’ll reach set point.]
[And if Fukurodani loses this set, they’ll be eliminated from this year’s Nationals…]
The score stood at ’23–23′.
The scoreboard was tied, but Aoba Johsai still held the advantage, they would have the next chance to attack. That single attacking opportunity was enough to become a fatal advantage against Fukurodani in the current situation.
The Fukurodani players were breathing hard.
Now that Bokuto had cooled off, he was still a powerful scorer, but he could only just keep pace with Aoba Johsai on the scoreboard.
The overwhelming offense he had shown at the start of the second set was no longer possible. As a result, the pressure on the rest of the team increased dramatically.
Fukurodani served again.
The ball was passed from Aoba Johsai’s libero to Oikawa, and from Oikawa to Asuto.
By now, Fukurodani had specifically adjusted their defense to shut Asuto down. Even though Oikawa and Asuto executed the play at lightning speed, Fukurodani still managed to put up a double block immediately.
But the instant Asuto spiked the ball, both blockers could only watch helplessly as it took a bizarre curve right in front of them, brushed past their fingertips, and flew behind them.
“Damn it!” The two blockers glared at the ball with bloodshot eyes, wishing they had another arm to stop it.
But they didn’t.
‘Thud!’
The ball slammed onto the court.
’24–23.’
Aoba Johsai reached ‘set point’.
‘Tweet…!’
The referee’s sharp whistle echoed through the gym. At last, Fukurodani’s coach couldn’t hold back any longer and called the team’s final timeout of the set.
—
[What a play!]
[Aoba Johsai scores!]
[Once again, it’s Ace Akashi Asuto! That makes his eleventh point of the set!]
[It’s hard to believe this is Akashi Asuto’s first appearance at Nationals, and even harder to believe that he’s only a first-year.]
[With that point, Aoba Johsai becomes the first team to reach set point. Can Fukurodani fight back once again and pull off a comeback?]
[We’ll find out… after the commercial break!]
—
‘Note:’ In real Japanese high school volleyball tournaments, televised matches really do cut to commercial breaks!
(End Of This Chapter)