"Why has the gym suddenly gone so quiet?"
"Umm... I don't think anyone's moved an inch for a good few seconds."
The court was eerily silent. Even the audience murmured in confusion, craning their necks to see what was happening.
Kindaichi stared at Tsuna's figure, his disbelief mirroring the rest of the first years.
'He used a normal serve instead of a jump serve...'
That was the first thing that didn't sit right. No matter how many times they thought it over in their minds, it felt off—like a piece of a puzzle that didn't fit.
The powerful spike Tsuna had just delivered was undeniably impressive.
It added a daunting layer to Karasuno's attack, especially paired with the freak duo.
With Tsuna's addition, Kageyama had more options to confuse Aoba Johsai's blockers, creating a significant problem for them.
But even so...
'Why are the seniors reacting like this?'
Kindaichi glanced at his fellow first-years. They were just as puzzled, their expressions a mix of awe and bewilderment.
Kindaichi frowned. He looked back at Tsuna, trying to make sense of it all. 'Are the seniors just overhyping him? I mean, sure, he's good, but—'
"Y-You..."
A trembling voice broke through his thoughts.
Kindaichi flinched and turned toward the source.
Oikawa.
Their captain's face was twisted with shock, his usual composure shattered. His wide eyes were locked on Tsuna, his disbelief so palpable it radiated through the court.
The first-years exchanged uneasy glances. They'd never seen Oikawa like this.
The tension grew heavier as Oikawa's voice wavered while asking, "...Why? Why are you using your left hand!?"
'What?'
The first-year players froze.
'No way… right?'
Oikawa's question hit them like a truck, and their confusion quickly twisted into disbelief.
They turned to their seniors, hoping they would somehow tell them the truth. But the tense expressions they found told them everything.
"...!"
Their hearts sank as they struggled to come to terms with such an absurd situation.
Recalling the serve he had done with his left hand and the powerful spike that followed, their eyes turned toward the one who haunted their seniors' memories—Tsunayoshi Matsumoto.
'He's actually... a right-handed person?'
They stared in total shock, their mouths gaping open.
Feeling all eyes on him, Tsuna frowned in response and asked, "Huh? Isn't it quite easy to tell?"
Oikawa's confusion didn't make any sense to him.
Shaking his head, Tsuna raised his left hand.
He flexed his fingers as if to prove a point before flatly saying, "I'm a left-handed person now..."
"...!"
Back on the sidelines, Irihata leaned forward in his seat.
Watching what was happening on the court, he narrowed his eyes as a realization struck him. Studying Tsuna carefully, he fell into contemplation and murmured under his breath, "Hmm… so it's true. He's been injured."
The powerful spike Tsuna had executed earlier played on a loop in his mind. As far as Irihata remembered, that was only a fraction of what had been Aoba Johsai's nightmare.
Despite knowing it was incredible for someone to come back after losing their dominant hand and still manage such a spike with their left hand, Irihata's eyes gleamed as another thought crossed his mind.
"This…" he muttered to himself, "This is actually even better."
The monster who had once haunted his team's nightmares had returned, but he was no longer the invincible force he had been a year ago.
Irihata's eyes flicked to his players on the court. He clenched his fists and whispered, "This is your chance…"
A chance to hunt a wounded beast.
"Don't make me fucking laugh!"
Oikawa's voice rang out, shattering the quiet gym. His teammates flinched at the sudden outburst, their eyes snapping to him in shock.
"Don't... say that..."
His revenge.
The singular goal that had driven him, pushed him and fueled his every spike and serve since their last encounter.
That bitter, searing memory of the end of the game when this smug bastard in front of him had dismissed it all with a careless shrug and a flat tone, "That was boring."
Oikawa's hands clenched into fists so tightly they shook. His nails dug into his palms, but he barely felt the sting.
His pupils seemed dull, almost lifeless, as he tilted his head slightly and fixed his stare on Tsuna, who was frowning back at him.
"How..." Oikawa's voice was trembling with disbelief, "How are you going to win this... with such a weak hand?"
There was no malice in the question, no venom—only desperation.
Where was that seemingly invincible monster a year ago? He felt like begging for Tsuna to use his right hand.
To fight him properly. To meet him at full strength, the way Oikawa had always envisioned their rematch.
Oikawa had never believed the rumors.
That Tsunayoshi Matsumoto, the monster who had dominated Aoba Johsai, had retired due to unforeseen circumstances? Ha! Ridiculous.
Oikawa had waited for this moment, for this rematch, for his chance to take back what he had lost.
He had trained, bled, and poured everything he had into the idea of defeating Tsuna.
But...
"You must've lost your fucking mind," Tsuna responded with a scoff as he turned away, making his way to the back line to serve.
'Ah...'
Hearing such a response made Oikawa feel like everything he had done all this time had been a joke.
As the game continued, Oikawa felt like he was trapped in a fever dream. His movements were automatic, his tosses mechanical.
He passed the ball to his teammates without much thought, his mind clouded with doubt.
Despite Karasuno lacking the sharp jump serves that had once put them on edge, their attacks were relentless, keeping Aoba Johsai constantly on the defensive.
And as Karasuno was a single point away from sealing the game...
"As if I'd let you fucking do that!"
A loud, angry shout pierced through the tense atmosphere. Oikawa blinked, startled, his gaze snapping away from the ball that floated toward him as he turned.
"Iwa-chan...?"
He saw Iwaizumi glaring at him, pure frustration burning in his eyes.
"You dumbfuck!" Iwaizumi shouted once more, "This is the chance you've been waiting for! Don't fucking waste it!"
"..."
Time seemed to slow as Oikawa watched Iwaizumi dart across the court. His words sliced through the fog clouding Oikawa's mind.
"Get your head in the game, Oikawa!"
Iwaizumi clicked his tongue, his voice lowering into a growl.
"...!"
Something inside Oikawa snapped. His eyes widened, and then they sharpened with focus.
"Hmm?"
Kageyama felt his whole body tingling in response as he watched such an intense focus coming from Oikawa.
He shouted, "Tsukishima!"
"...I'm not fucking blind, you moron."
"..."
Kageyama didn't even feel like arguing back as he watched on with a tense expression.
With precision honed from countless practices, Oikawa leaped forward.
His hands connected with the ball, his toss fluid and flawless as it soared across the court, heading straight for Iwaizumi.
Karasuno's blockers—Tsukishima and Daichi—formed a solid wall in front of him. But it wasn't enough.
CRACK!
The ball blasted through the narrow gap between their outstretched hands, landing sharply on Karasuno's side of the court with a loud thud.
Point for Aoba Johsai.
"Whoaa, they're finally hitting it back!"
"Let's go, Seijo!"
The students who came to watch immediately roared in cheers at the spike that felt more important than the rest of the points they had made so far.
'Iwa-chan is correct...'
Oikawa quietly thought to himself as he slowly made his way toward the back of the line, ready for his turn to serve.
"..."
Everyone in Karasuno tensed up at the sight.
Most of them had witnessed firsthand what this setter was capable of, and the memory still burned fresh in their minds.
Thump. Thump.
The sound of the ball bouncing against the floor echoed in the gym.
Oikawa's eyes, once dull and unfocused, now brimmed with an unsettling intensity. He wasn't looking at the ball or the crowd.
His gaze was locked onto a single player across the court.
Tsuna.
'This guy...'
Tsuna could see that intensity, more potent than anything he had ever seen. However, he didn't mind it in the slightest.
He relaxed his position and spoke, "Bring it on, Oikawa!"
'This is my only chance...'
Oikawa's venomous gaze sent a clear message.
'...to make him feel what we've been through!'
He held the ball steady in front of his chest, his hand trembling ever so slightly with anticipation. Then, he pointed straight at Tsuna.
The message couldn't have been clearer.
Whistle!
Oikawa tossed the ball high into the air. His movements were decisive as he leaped forward, his arm swinging with explosive force.
CRACK!
The sound of contact reverberated through the gym as the ball rocketed over the net. The topspin was so intense, it compressed the air around it, making the ball curve mid-flight...
...slicing toward Tsuna like an arrow.
Tsuna's eyes followed the ball calmly. He braced himself, repositioning toward the ball while cupping his hands together to receive the shot.
But as the ball came into contact with a pop!
The spin, the speed—everything about it was fiercer than he'd expected.
"...!"
Tsuna's eyes widened as he felt the impact reverberate through his entire body.
His hands buckled under the force, and the ball veered wildly out of control. It shot off toward the sidelines, hitting the metallic railing with a loud clang that echoed in the gym's stunned silence.
"Kyaah!"
Several girls in the crowd gasped at the impact.
Meanwhile...
"...!"
Karasuno's players froze, a collective chill creeping down their spines.
For the seniors, it was even worse.
Daichi swallowed hard, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead as he stared at Oikawa. 'His serve... it's so much stronger than a year ago!'
The ball bounced back into the court with a plop, spinning aimlessly as Tsuna stared at it, his expression unreadable.
Slowly, his gaze shifted to Oikawa.
Oikawa stood tall on the other side of the net, relaxed as if it were nothing much.
Tsuna's lips twisted into a smirk at the sight. His eyes lit up in excitement. 'This is it, Oikawa. Very good...'
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