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“Hey, Oikawa… Maybe it’s just my imagination, but do you think it’s possible that the first-year’s serve is actually stronger than yours?” Takahiro Hanamaki asked, his expression stiff as he slowly turned his neck towards Oikawa Tooru.
“Hah? Impossible! Absolutely impossible!”
Oikawa reacted as though he had just had his sweets stolen, shaking his head furiously as he denied it outright.
“He’s just a measly first-year brat! How could he possibly be better than me, a dignified third-year senior? That serve earlier was just a coincidence, a coincidence, that’s all!”
“Even if it was a coincidence, it’s still terrifying, okay? Are middle schoolers nowadays already serving balls like that?” Shigeru Yahaba still had cold sweat on his forehead.
People probably wouldn’t believe it, but the previous serve had actually flown right past him as well. He’d had a chance to touch the ball first…
Yet, in the end, he hadn’t even managed to reach out his hand.
Because he had been afraid.
When the ball screamed through the air, it didn’t feel like a volleyball at all. It felt more like an artillery shell. For a brief moment, he genuinely feared being injured if it hit him.
Thinking about it afterwards seemed ridiculous, but even now, he could still vividly recall that instant.
“Tch! What’s there to be surprised about? I could serve balls like that in middle school too,” Oikawa said stubbornly.
“But when you first entered Aoba Johsai High as a first-year, the seniors immediately returned your very first serve,” Iwaizumi replied mercilessly, exposing him on the spot.
Oikawa’s handsome face flushed red with anger as he tried to argue back.
“That was just bad luck! Besides, isn’t it normal for first-years to lose to seniors at first? And anyway, how can a Setter’s business even be called losing?”
What followed was a load of nonsense about ‘respecting seniors’ and ‘team harmony’, but unfortunately, none of it managed to restore the White Team’s cheerful atmosphere.
At that exact moment… Asuto was preparing to serve again.
Seeing this, Oikawa couldn’t help but click his tongue.
“Tch, damn genius.”
······
“Asuto, hit another good one!”
“Don’t hold back, rookie! Blow those bastards away!”
“Go for it!”
Mishita Ryuhei, Shinji Watari, and Akira Kunimi each cheered Asuto on.
Only Yutaro Kindaichi remained silent.
At that moment, he was too busy shrinking his neck, covering the back of his head and creeping towards the edge of the court.
Huu~
Asuto let out a soft breath and gently tossed the volleyball high into the air.
Then he began his approach.
He jumped.
He swung his arm…
BOOM!
There was a thunderous explosion, and Asuto’s eyes lit up instantly.
“Mm, that felt good.”
A soft yet elastic sensation traveled from his palm. The instant he felt that familiar sensation, Asuto knew this serve was excellent.
The volleyball screamed through the air as it crossed the net, flying directly toward Shigeru Yahaba.
The trajectory of the ball was reflected in Yahaba’s pupils. Even before the volleyball itself arrived, the fierce whistling wind reached him first.
His mind suddenly went blank, leaving only one thought:
“You’ve got to be kidding me… That last serve wasn’t even at full power?”
The fear from the previous Serve surfaced once again deep inside him. But this time, after only a moment’s hesitation, Yahaba’s gaze regained its determination.
Afraid?
Who had time for that right now?
This was the welcome match.
If he got intimidated by a first-year student’s serve here, how could he ever call himself someone else’s senior in the future?
Shigeru Yahaba suddenly came to his senses. He took a quick step forward to receive the serve.
However, that brief moment of distraction had already cost him the initiative.
Before he could properly set his receiving posture, the volleyball arrived in front of him.
Before he could react… a heavy impact slammed into his chest.
His center of gravity shifted violently, and he fell flat on his back.
Thud!
Dong~
Dong~
Dong~
Two different sounds echoed throughout the silent gymnasium.
The first was Shigeru Yahaba crashing to the floor.
The second was the echo of the volleyball hitting the ground repeatedly.
The players on both sides of the court stared blankly at him.
Their gazes carried worry and disbelief, but more than anything else, they were shocked.
Yahaba himself sat on the floor looking dazed, as though he still hadn’t understood what had just happened.
Perhaps because the impact was too overwhelming, even the White Team failed to notice that their rapidly rising morale, thanks to Iwaizumi’s encouragement, had plummeted to freezing point after Asuto scored with those two serves.
Only Mishita Ryuhei silently engraved this familiar scene into his memory.
“Volleyball is the only major ball sport played across a net. Because there’s no physical contact, even the players themselves often subconsciously forget that this sport is also filled with violence.”
“Normally, that doesn’t have much impact. But if someone suddenly forces people to remember it, players will inevitably feel uncomfortable; some may even develop a fear of it.”
“And coincidentally, our side just happens to have an ‘ultra-violent player.’ His Serves aren’t just about pure strength. They’re the kind of Serves that embody violence itself, they are completely unreasonable Serves. Whether they are received or not, they inevitably have an enormous psychological impact on the players… and sometimes not just on the opponents.”
At that thought…
Mishita Ryuhei subconsciously turned around to look at his own teammates.
Sure enough, it wasn’t just the White Team players who were affected. Shinji Watari, Akira Kunimi, and Yutaro Kindaichi on their own side all looked slightly absent-minded now, too.
Meanwhile, Asuto, standing behind the baseline, seemed to grow even deeper and more restrained in his aura.
From afar, he resembled a bottomless abyss, capable of engulfing everything.
Or like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
In any case, there was practically nothing ‘friendly’ about the atmosphere surrounding him.
Seeing this, Mishita Ryuhei could only sigh inwardly.
“Well, whatever. He’s our Ace, after all. If his aura’s a little terrifying, then so be it.”
Speaking of which, Mishita Ryuhei had only noticed this particular trait of Asuto’s during the final match of the National Middle School Championships.
At the time, it had occurred right after Mishita Ryuhei had been injured and forced to leave the court.
That Serve…
Even now, Ryuhei still remembers it vividly.
At the time, Sengoku Junior High had been at a significant disadvantage. The opposing team’s cheering momentum was immense, and the shouts of the spectators could practically be heard throughout half the stadium.
Yet the instant Asuto unleashed that serve…
Not only did the players on both teams fall silent, but even the cheering sections of both schools lost their voices in that single moment.
And the aura radiating from Asuto back then…
That was the first time Mishita Ryuhei had ever seen it during middle school.
And also the last.
(End Of This Chapter)
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