The tension on the court was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. The score remained tight, and everyone on both sides was feeling the weight of the match. Minato stepped up for the serve, his hands trembling slightly as he tossed the ball into the air. The whistle blew, and the rally began.
The serve wasn't perfect, but it was effective enough to force Seiryuu into an awkward receive. The ball sailed to their setter, who quickly sent it to their wing spiker. Hinata and Daiki jumped to block, their timing almost flawless, but the spiker tipped it softly over their hands. I rushed forward, my arms steady as I sent the ball back up with a clean dig.
The pace of the rally began to pick up, the ball flying back and forth across the net like a blur. Every player was drawn into the rhythm, each touch sharper, each movement faster. The intensity of the moment was pulling everyone into its gravity, and I could see it—our team was rushing. Our sets were hurried, our spikes lacked precision, and even Shigeo, usually composed and in control, was moving with a frantic energy.
My mind remained clear. We're rushing too much, I thought, scanning the court as I positioned myself. We're burning through energy, and this rally is draining us faster than it should.
The ball came back to our side. Shigeo set the ball high, almost too high, and Daiki slammed it with all his might, only for Seiryuu's libero to dive and keep it alive. The ball was sent back with a powerful counterattack, forcing Minato into an awkward dig. Shigeo lunged for the second touch, his set falling short of its usual precision, and Hinata barely managed to tap it over the net.
The rally stretched on, and I could feel the exhaustion radiating from my teammates. Their shoulders sagged, their movements slower. Shigeo, whose stamina was always the weakest, was visibly struggling the most. His breathing was labored, and his jumps were almost nonexistent now, each one a clear effort. Seiryuu capitalized on a poor receive and set up their ace for the next attack.
As the ball flew toward the net, I saw Shigeo hesitate. He couldn't jump anymore. Without a second thought, I shouted, "Shigeo, stay back! Daiki, Hinata, block the left!"
The command was sharp, cutting through the haze of exhaustion. Daiki and Hinata moved in unison, forming a solid wall on the left. The straight was covered, but I had deliberately left a gap for the cross. Their ace's eyes lit up as he spotted the opening, and with all his might, he slammed the ball toward it.
All as planned, I thought. I moved with precision, my stance firm as I intercepted the ball with a perfect receive. The impact reverberated up my arms, but I absorbed it, sending the ball soaring high into the air, almost touching the roof of the gym.
"Take it easy! I got your backs!" My voice echoed across the court, commanding and steady.
The effect was immediate. The tension eased from my teammates' shoulders as they lifted their heads, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten. The ball hung in the air, giving everyone just enough time to reset and catch their breath. Even Seiryuu seemed to pause, realizing the shift in energy.
I scanned my team. Hinata, still panting, straightened his posture, determination burning in his eyes. Daiki wiped the sweat from his brow, his grip on the court firm again. Shigeo, breathing heavily, locked eyes with me. Give it to me, I thought, and a faint smirk crossed his lips as he muttered, "As you wish, conductor."
Everyone is tired, I thought. So am I. But as the captain, I have to open the path for them.
My mind raced, processing the court's layout, the positions of Seiryuu's blockers, and the gaps in their formation. Hinata, still under the command to run for every ball, began his approach. One of their blockers followed him, eyes glued to his movements. I launched forward for the spike, drawing two more blockers toward me.
As I rose into the air, I saw the straight open for a split second. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught their libero shifting to cover it. There's no path left, I thought. Maybe I can rebound it off their hands, but the team is still too drained to keep pushing. Maybe I can aim for the fingertips and force it out of bounds—but it's risky. If I fail, the morale will plummet.
Fuck it, I thought.
Locking eyes with the libero, I committed fully. With all my might, I challenged their defense, slamming the ball with a powerful spike. The gym fell silent for a heartbeat as the ball rocketed toward its target.
Then came the impact, a loud thud as the ball collided with their libero's outstretched arms. He braced himself, but the sheer force of the spike sent him tumbling backward. The ball ricocheted over his head and out of bounds, landing on the floor.
"YES!" I screamed in joy, the adrenaline surging through me. For a moment, everyone stood frozen, dumbfounded by what had just happened. Then, cheers erupted from my teammates on the court, their voices filling the gym.
Shigeo, still catching his breath, smirked and muttered, "Nice one, maestro. You really got them dancing to your tune."
The scoreboard lit up, tying the score at 23-23. The momentum had shifted, and I could feel it coursing through our team like a spark reigniting the fire.
Hearing Shigeo's words, I grinned back at him. "Promoted from conductor to maestro, huh?" I replied, the adrenaline still buzzing through my veins. Then I turned to the rest of the team, my voice steady and commanding. "The match isn't over yet. Focus up!"
Our morale was at an all-time high. I could see it in their eyes, the determination burning brighter than ever. On the other side of the court, I caught their libero staring daggers at me. The intensity in his gaze was unmistakable, but I didn't flinch. Instead, I smirked back, muttering under my breath, "Let the final battle begin."