Haikyuu!!: Raising Crows

The tension on the court remained electric, the score locked at 22-22. Both teams were pushing their limits, every movement sharp yet heavy with exhaustion. The ball was served, and the rally began.

Our team had the serve, and Riku stepped up. He sent the ball over cleanly, but it was easily picked up by their libero, who absorbed it with practiced ease. Seiryuu quickly transitioned into their attack. Their setter delivered a sharp, quick set to their outside hitter, and our team scrambled to block. The ball deflected off our blockers' hands, and Minato had to dive for it, stretching every muscle to keep it alive. The ball flew to a good position for me to spike, and I did, but Seiryuu's blockers anticipated it. They deflected the ball, sending it skimming toward their setter, who quickly set up their next attack.

Our blockers reacted just a fraction too late. I moved instinctively, digging the ball up just in time to prevent it from hitting the floor. Shigeo scrambled to set, sending it back toward Daiki, who aimed for a sharp cross. The ball clipped off a blocker's hand, soaring toward the edge of the court. Their libero lunged, barely keeping it in play, as the rally stretched longer and longer. The pace was relentless, each touch more desperate than the last.

Seiryuu's setter sent a quick set to their ace, number 2, who hammered the ball toward the backline. I read the attack, positioning myself just in time for a solid receive, sending the ball back into the air. Shigeo, breathing heavily but focused, set it perfectly for Hinata. The crowd held their breath as he leapt once again, his silhouette suspended in the air like a snapshot of raw power.

But Seiryuu's blockers anticipated it this time. Their timing was perfect, their hands sealing the path. Hinata's spike slammed into their block, the ball rebounding sharply back toward our side.

I had seen it coming. The moment the blockers moved, I knew Hinata was in trouble. My legs tensed to move, but exhaustion weighed me down like lead. I dove, my fingertips grazing the ball, but it wasn't enough. It hit the floor with a dull thud, ending the rally.

"Point to Seiryuu! 23-22!" the referee called.

I stayed on the floor for a moment, my breath heavy, my arms trembling. For some reason, I felt eerily calm. My focus and vision were sharper than ever, cutting through the exhaustion weighing on my body. My prediction had been right, but I had come up just short. As I stood up, I glanced at Hinata, who looked shaken, and I forced a small grin. "Shake it off. We'll get the next one," I said, my voice steady, as if to ground him and everyone else.

The court buzzed with intensity as we regrouped. The rally had taken its toll, but the game wasn't over yet.

It was match point for Seiryuu. The fact that I was calm about it, my words steady and deliberate, seemed to ease the tension on our side somewhat. I could feel the weight of the moment, but I wasn't going to let it show. The team needed me to be composed, and I would be.

Seiryuu prepared to serve, swapping in a pinch setter. As he walked onto the court, his face was laser-focused and calm, almost unnervingly so. I watched him closely, my thoughts racing. He must have nerves of steel to look like that on a match point serve.

I remembered him from earlier in the match. He'd been on the court for a while but was subbed off when our attacks became more intense. His receives and defense had been subpar, leaving gaps in their rotation. Yet now, here he was, stepping up for the most critical moment of the game.

He tossed the ball high, his form practiced but deliberate. Then, to everyone's surprise, he executed a spike serve. The ball rocketed over the net, its trajectory aimed directly at Hinata.

Hinata's eyes widened, the shock evident for a split second before his instincts took over. He planted his feet firmly, bracing himself for impact. The tension in the gym was palpable, every spectator and player holding their breath as the ball sped toward him.

Before Hinata even received the ball, I began moving back. What is this? I thought. I could see the ball's trajectory. From Hinata's stance, his outstretched arms, and the ball's path, I could predict its movement clearer than ever.

And then it happened just as I played it in my head. The ball ricocheted off Hinata's arms, the force too much for him to control. It flew outside the court toward the back of the field. From my peripheral vision, I could see the joy on the enemies' faces... then shock. They were probably thinking: Why was he there?

I dove for it, keeping it in play with every ounce of strength I had. Minato was quick to react, connecting and sending the ball back over the net. It made for an easy receive for Seiryuu, and they quickly transitioned into their next attack. The ball was set perfectly, their setter delivering it with precision.

I got up quickly and ran for the block, and so did Daiki. His positioning was a bit off, leaving their spiker, their ace number 2, enough room for both a straight and a cross. My mind raced as the field became clear in my head. I adjusted and reinforced the block, focusing on the straight. Number 2 had no other option but to go for the cross.

And he did. But Hinata was there, his determination burning as bright as ever. The ball slammed into his arms, the force overwhelming him once again. The ball ricocheted in my direction, heading outside the court. I didn't hesitate. I followed, my body moving before my thoughts could catch up.

I could see that none of the main attackers on our side were in a position to strike. The gears in my head turned. Daiki had just gone for the block, Hinata was still on the floor, and Riku and Minato's run-up paths were blocked. That left only one option.

I looked at him. He was visibly exhausted, panting heavily and drenched in sweat. Even so, I had no choice. I jumped, pointing mid-air at Shigeo, who stood on the opposite side of the court. His eyes widened in disbelief before he muttered something under his breath—something about a "shitty maestro working his musicians to the bone." But he took a few steps back, preparing for the run-up.

The ball came to me, and with all the precision I could muster, I set it. My hands moved quickly, sending it sailing to the other side of the court where Shigeo waited.

The gym felt charged, every spectator glued to the play. The sound of sneakers on the court and the rhythmic breathing of the players echoed through the air. Shigeo's steps were deliberate despite his exhaustion, and with all the strength he had left, he jumped for the spike. The ball collided with his hand, slamming toward the cross. In that split second, I saw the surprise flash across Seiryuu's players' faces. They hadn't expected it.

Then came the impact. The ball shot toward the floor, and everyone on the court held their breath. So was everyone else. The line judge boy raised his flag, declaring the outcome. The court was silent. Then, every head in the gym turned toward the referee. His face was a mix of pure shock, his mouth agape from the play he had just witnessed in a junior high volleyball match. Realizing that everyone was waiting for him, he fumbled for the whistle hanging from his neck. Then, with a single, long blow of the whistle, he announced the outcome.

[Author's Note: This is my first attempt at writing anything, so go easy on me... This is all I have for now. Let me know if you think I should continue! I'll be on holiday tomorrow, so I'll pick the story back up in February if I decide to continue.

Writing is tough, and every bit of support helps. If you enjoyed this, please drop some votes, reviews, or stones to keep me going!]