“Damn it… That bastard!”
The moment Mujinazaka High’s Setter saw Yūtarō Kindaichi gently tip the ball over the block, his expression changed completely. The backcourt defenders threw themselves toward the ball with everything they had, but they were a step too late.
Thump… thump… thump…
The volleyball dropped softly onto the floor, bouncing several times less than a meter behind the block.
In that instant, Mujinazaka’s Setter understood: he’d been played. Not only had Oikawa seen through the trap he had carefully laid, but he’d turned it around and used it against them.
Looking across the net at Oikawa’s brilliantly smug grin, the Setter’s face gradually darkened.
‘2–1.’
Aoba Johsai had regained the lead.
Next came Oikawa’s serve.
Against Mujinazaka High, Oikawa’s powerful serves had become Aoba Johsai’s most reliable source of momentum. After all, Asuto’s and Kiryū Wakatsu’s serves essentially canceled each other out; during the first set, neither side had managed to gain much of an advantage during their service rotations.
‘Boom!’
Oikawa sent over a jump serve that wasn’t especially fast, but its target was unmistakable. It flew straight at Mujinazaka’s Setter.
There was no question, this was Oikawa openly provoking him.
Left with no choice, Mujinazaka’s Setter had to receive the serve himself. That meant someone else had to fill in as setter for the rally.
Fortunately for them, with Kiryū Wakatsu’s specialty of crushing bad sets, even an imperfect toss from another player was enough for him to unleash another devastating cannon spike.
‘2–2.’
The score was tied again.
On the surface, Oikawa’s serve hadn’t accomplished much. But in reality, the groundwork for his plan had already begun.
…
The fifth rally.
Kiryū Wakatsu stepped up to serve once again. Just like before, he failed to score directly. No matter how powerful a serve was, once the receivers got used to its rhythm, handling it became much easier.
And for both teams, Kiryū’s and Asuto’s serves had become as familiar as they could possibly be.
Shinji Watari cleanly received the ball.
Now that Mujinazaka’s setter knew his trap had already been exposed, he abandoned the previous defensive setup and returned to a standard formation.
But against an ordinary defense, Oikawa and Asuto’s combination was too dangerous. A single decoy was enough to tear the formation apart and earn Aoba Johsai another point.
‘3–2.’
Then it was Asuto’s turn to serve. The result was much the same as Kiryū’s. The match settled into a steady rhythm, with each side trading points back and forth. It was almost peaceful to watch.
That lasted until the score reached 7–6.
It was Aoba Johsai’s serve, while Mujinazaka had the attack.
Once again, Mujinazaka’s Setter prepared to send the ball to Kiryū Wakatsu. But just before releasing the set, he noticed something strange about Aoba Johsai’s defensive formation.
There was a block in the middle. There was a block on the left. And the right side… looked completely wide open.
It was exactly the same trap that Michiru Usuri himself had used against Aoba Johsai earlier in the match. Oikawa had copied it wholesale, and he hadn’t even bothered to disguise it.
“This guy…”
Veins bulged on Usuri’s forehead. He felt like his intelligence was being openly insulted. ‘You’re using my own trap against me? Do you think I’m an idiot?’
Without the slightest hesitation, he sent the ball to Kiryū Wakatsu on the left. Asuto and Kindaichi immediately moved in, forming a solid double block. Kiryū didn’t care; as if the blockers weren’t even there, he blasted the spike straight through them.
But just as the ball was about to hit the floor, Shinji Watari suddenly sprinted in from the backcourt. He arrived at the exact spot where the ball was about to land.
‘Smack!’
Kiryū Wakatsu’s spike was dug up.
[Great receive!]
[Aoba Johsai has successfully dug Kiryū Wakatsu’s spike! They’ve clearly figured out his attacking patterns now. Their libero’s positioning on that play was practically perfect!]
The moment they kept the ball alive, Aoba Johsai launched a counterattack. Oikawa immediately connected with Asuto on a quick attack, scoring before Mujinazaka’s front line even had time to react.
‘8–6.’
“Whoa! That was an incredible dig!”
From the back row of the stands, Bokuto Kotaro couldn’t help but praise Shinji Watari’s seemingly flawless receive of Kiryū’s spike.
Beside him, Keiji Akaashi nodded.
“It really was. Kiryū’s spikes are incredibly heavy. Without excellent fundamentals, it’s almost impossible to absorb that kind of power cleanly. But…”
He paused, narrowing his eyes toward Oikawa on Aoba Johsai’s side of the court.
“I don’t think that play was entirely the libero’s doing.”
“Aoba Johsai’s Setter outplayed Mujinazaka’s Setter.”
“Outplayed him?” Bokuto blinked.
“Yeah. He copied the same defensive trap, deliberately provoked his opponent, guided him into attacking a specific area… and then prepared the defense there in advance. Something like that.”
“…I didn’t understand a single word,” Bokuto said. “Seriously, Akaashi… are all Setters this sneaky?”
—
On Mujinazaka High’s side of the court, Michiru Usuri’s expression had turned as dark as the bottom of a burnt pot.
Just as Akaashi had guessed, that entire sequence had been Oikawa’s trap. Oikawa knew that after seeing his own tactic copied back at him, Usuri would never choose to attack through the seemingly open right side.
So Aoba Johsai had concentrated nearly all of their defensive strength on the middle and left.
Ironically, the wide-open right side really ‘was’ left undefended. It was a simple piece of reverse psychology.
If Akaashi could see through it, then of course Usuri could too. But that only made him angrier, because this was the second time Oikawa had played him.
Being down by two points didn’t really shake Mujinazaka; they were confident they could take them back soon enough. The match continued. Aoba Johsai served again, and Mujinazaka earned the attack.
After the libero received the serve and passed it to Usuri, he looked up. Aoba Johsai had set up the exact same trap again.
This time, however, Usuri hesitated. He genuinely couldn’t tell anymore whether the open right side was actually a trap. If it was, attacking there would be dangerous. But if it wasn’t, then attacking through the middle or left might be even more dangerous.
He was completely torn. What made it worse was that this was ‘his’ tactic, he had invented it first. Yet somehow Oikawa was using it even better than he ever had. That thought alone was enough to crack his composure.
Once your mind wavers, so do your hands. And when your hands aren’t steady, neither are your sets.
A Setter was the team’s brain. In the brief instant before releasing the ball, countless thoughts flashed through their mind, but the actual set lasted only a split second. Even the slightest hesitation during that moment could lead to a fatal mistake.
And so, as Kiryū Wakatsu leaped for the attack, Usuri delivered a set with perfect accuracy.
…Straight into Kiryū’s forehead.
‘Thunk!’
The instant the volleyball smacked him square in the face, the entire arena fell silent.
(End of Chapter)