The referee's whistle echoed through the arena, cutting through the roaring crowd. The Argentine players huddled near their coach, their expressions a mix of frustration and determination. Sweat gleamed on their foreheads as they quickly formed a tight circle, leaning in to catch every word. Coach Ramirez clapped his hands sharply, his voice calm but commanding.
"Focus! They're not invincible. Their number 19 is the backbone of their strategy. If we can disrupt his rhythm, we'll force mistakes." His eyes scanned the faces of his players, landing on Diego, their libero, who was still flexing his red, sore arms.
"Diego, you're doing great, but you can't take every hit solo. Position yourself to guide the defense, but call for support when needed. Jaoquin and Nicolas, I need you to close those gaps on the back row. Watch for Kurai's mixed serves—if he fakes power, be ready to rush in." Diego nodded, his jaw clenched.
"I'll handle it." Coach Ramirez shifted his attention to Luca, their young setter and captain.
"Luca, forget about matching Kurai's mind games. Stick to our plan. Set up Hector for quick attacks; he's got the height to challenge their blocks. And Nicolas, you've got the energy—use it. Don't just react to their plays; push the tempo on our side." Nicolas grinned despite the tension.
"Got it, Coach." Ramirez paused, lowering his voice.
"They've come out of the gates hitting strong, but this is our game to take back. Keep your cool and play smart. If Kurai tries to dominate from the backline, use that as your opening to regain control at the net. Sean is dangerous, but he relies on Kurai's sets. Shut Kurai down, and you shut down Sean." Hector, their towering middle blocker, slammed his hands together.
"Let's do this." The team nodded in unison, their frustration melting into resolve. As the whistle blew to signal the end of the timeout, Ramirez gave a final shout.
"Eyes up, heads in the game! We fight for every point from here on out." They broke from the huddle, their movements sharper now as they stepped back onto the court. Luca turned to Diego as they took their positions.
"Let's remind them who they're up against." Diego smirked, crouching low and ready.
"Let's make it hurt."
The whistle blew and Kurai tossed the ball high into the air, the air became thick as Diego un-clenches his fist. His eyes watch the ball as he exhales, relaxing his entire body as time seems to slow down. 'Don't take your eyes off the ball, Diego' He blinks as the ball bolts over the net. His hops faintly and slides a bit to the left. Lowering his waist and stretching out his arms. 'It's got a spin-' The ball hits his arms and ricochets off him toward the out of bounds behind him. 'No-!'
Suddenly, Hector appears under the ball, bringing it up with his fist. Falling and rolling over on the floor before rushing to stand.
"Get it!"
Kurai's eyes track the ball as it floats through the air. Watching the entire court in motion. Hector rushed to stand. Diego is preparing for another receive. Nicolas was running up to the net for a spike. Luca was running to the left for a set. 'It's Luca, he's going to be in over his head and try and last second spike the ball as I had moments ago' Kurai takes a step to the left, the glow of his eyes following his movement as Luca jumped to set, last second swinging to spike. Suddenly, a wall appears and the ball hits the court. Kurai lands and stands tall.
"Stop trying to copy me and play as how you'd always play, that's what it means to be a setter at the Olympics" Luca looks up nervously at Kurai as a whistle blows. USA 6-0 Arg. Another whistle blows as Luca looks over, his heart dropping.
"Oh, Argentina is subbing in their trusted setter and taking Luca out of the game"
"Luca made a gamble and lost the bet, causing his team to lose another point and thus be taken out of the game… because of that failed bet, Argentina is now 6 points behind!"
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Luca walks over amongst the cheers of the crowd and echoes of the ball being spiked behind him. Coach Ramirez pats the spot beside him where Luca sits down silently. He places a firm hand on Luca's shoulder and leans in slightly, ensuring his words are heard over the roaring crowd.
"Luca, listen to me," the coach begins, his tone steady but carrying the weight of the situation.
"I know you were trying to prove yourself out there, but the court isn't the place to imitate someone else. You're not Kurai of the Monster Generation. You're Luca Menendez, and you need to play like it." Luca's eyes drop to the floor, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. The coach doesn't let up but softens his voice.
"You've got talent, Luca—raw talent—but right now, you're thinking too much about him and not enough about what you bring to this team. Your instincts, your vision, your leadership—that's what we need." The coach straightens, looking at the court briefly before meeting Luca's eyes again.
"Take this moment to breathe. Watch the game. Learn. You'll get your chance again, but when you do, I want the Luca Menendez I've seen in practice, I wanna see the Chameleon setter who won plenty of awards over his career of setting" As the coach steps back, he adds one final remark, his voice firm and encouraging.
"You're still in this game, Luca—just in a different way right now. Keep your head in it." Luca nods slowly, his jaw tightening in determination as he sits on the bench, eyes fixed on the court, vowing to come back stronger. His eyes begin to glow.