He really wasn't interested in that sack of spin-serves Inamoto had brought back; the kind Inamoto used were basically disposables, their quality was abysmal. The trash can in their locker room was filled with the remains of Inamoto's spin-serves almost every day.
Besides, what he needs is more than just massage strips..
After both coaches submitted their rotation sheets for the Second Set, the match began as usual.
Itachiyama's starting lineup and positioning remained unchanged, with Sakusa still starting at Position 4 for a Strong Attack, just as Coach Kurosu had anticipated.
However, Inarizaki didn't make any adjustments either, sticking to their usual S1 formation.
For the current Inarizaki, Miya Atsumu's opening serve is more important than anything else, being able to ensure that the Opposite Ace starts in a strong Position 4 during this opening is nothing short of an ideal start.
Arima felt an inexplicable sense of excitement.. for this was his first time as a starter, or rather, his first time appearing in a match.
He turned to look at Miya Atsumu, who was preparing to serve, then at Hinata, who was observing him for some reason, before suddenly raising his hand to give his own face a slap.
Arima silently cheered himself on in his heart: "Alright, I'm ready."
On the sidelines, Coach Kurosu stood with his arms crossed over his chest, one hand unconsciously gripping his arm, his entire demeanor tense.
To be honest, if Arima Shuji truly had enough talent, he wouldn't have been so anxious to find a new successor before Akagi entered his third year.
Compared to Unabara Uta, Arima Shuji is much worse in every aspect; even his experience and fundamentals, which should have been an advantage due to his age, are actually inferior to those of Unabara Uta, who has been active on the front lines of competition since junior high.
Against teams with a lower skill level, he might be fine, but facing a team as excellent in all aspects as Itachiyama—especially Sakusa, whose spikes are renowned for being so tricky—it is highly likely that problems will arise.
Moreover, Arima Shuji himself doesn't have his heart in volleyball; he had already reported to him his intention to retire after the Interhigh ends.
At that time, he will arrange for Nishizawa Hokuto, who has great talent and is progressing rapidly, to take over his position. The team uniform has even already been made, the number chosen is number 17, the same one Hinata used last year.
But there was no other way; at this point, he had to trust Arima Shuji. As a coach, he could not be the first to shrink from the battle.
Besides, at this point in time, Arima's abundant stamina is his greatest advantage. With Miya Osamu and Rishia providing support, combined with Miya Atsumu's own high-level follow-up ability, everything should be fine.
Ginjima shouted loudly, "Atsumu, serve a good one!"
Komori Motoya took a deep breath, preparing to face Miya Atsumu's direct attack.
Inarizaki had already found that their powerful spikes were relatively effective in the previous set, he didn't believe that Inarizaki wouldn't take advantage of this.
The whistle blew in his ears, the Head Referee signaled Miya Atsumu to serve.
Miya Atsumu rotated the volleyball in his hands, silently weighing the current situation in his mind.
After letting his gaze linger on Komori for a moment, Miya Atsumu tossed the ball into the air, using the very last second of the service time limit.
The eight-second rule had become almost instinctive to him; since entering high school, he had never once given the opponent a point due to a time violation.
The ball fell toward the designated hitting point in his field of vision. He leaped before the three-meter line, raising his hand to spike the ball, his fingers wrapping around it to control its direction toward his intended target.
Targeting the Libero?
No, the current situation has already become meaningless.
To break down Komori Motoya, a long-term strategy is required to wear the opponent down in terms of both physical stamina and mental energy; this requires them to not only execute beautiful serves but also to keep up with the spike offense.
But when there are inherent flaws in defense, it becomes extremely difficult to organize a truly spectacular offense, the original plan naturally loses its intended effectiveness.
Compared to their original playstyle, which was more energy-efficient but indirectly consumed mental focus, what they needed now was the most intense and effective way to score; the loss of physical stamina was negligible in the face of victory.
By bypassing Komori Motoya's defensive line and targeting Ishikawa on the other end, his priority should be to score in the fastest way possible to widen the gap.
A collision louder than any previous serve rang in the ears of the Itachiyama players, before Ishikawa could even finish a single blink, the volleyball had already smashed down right in front of him.
Before he could even adjust his receiving movement, Ishikawa could only passively raise his hands, attempting to use his forearms to block the ball.
But he completely underestimated the power of the ball; it struck his arm, his overly high center of gravity caused him to lose his balance entirely under the force, sending him falling backward. His back slammed heavily against the floor, causing his breath to hitch.
The whistle blew immediately, announcing that Inarizaki scores.
Hinata snapped his head around to look at Miya Atsumu, who had just landed behind him. "Ohhhhh—ACE!"
Atsumu-ge! That was so cool! You're the coolest in the world!
Miya Atsumu exhaled softly, raising a hand to tidy the hair at his right temple: "Of course."
He stood with his hands on his hips, let out a light laugh, said, "I'm going to score five aces this set."
Hinata, getting a bit worked up, jumped up and egged him on: "Ten! Make it ten!"
Miya Atsumu was just about to agree when Kumagai, who had already been called to the Coach's bench by Coach Kurosu, gave two light coughs.
As if a bucket of cold water had been poured over him, Miya Atsumu glanced at Kumagai, recalled that absolute disaster, finally changed his answer to, "Eleven, then."
Miya Osamu tossed the ball he had received from Itachiyama back to Miya Atsumu: "You might as well just say you're going to shut them out entirely."
It's morning; how is someone already dreaming?
Miya Atsumu turned his head toward the coach to spread the rumor: "Osamu said he's going to score twenty-five points on his serve."
Miya Osamu took a sharp breath in frustration, lowering his head slightly to glare at Miya Atsumu. "What the hell are you talking about, you bastard?"
After his snarky remark, Miya Atsumu decisively turned his head and walked back to the serving position as if nothing had happened, preparing for his second serve.
It took quite a while for Ishikawa to recover after being helped up by Inamoto, only then did the stars in his vision finally disappear.
His back burned with pain, every breath brought a distinct sense of discomfort; it was likely bruised and swollen, he would definitely suffer for it after the match.
Inamura checked with him several times, even pulling aside his shirt to take a look, after confirming it was only a superficial injury, he grabbed some pain relief spray from the coach and sprayed a bit on Ishikawa.
Watching this scene, Hinata felt his own back itching; he could still clearly recall the sensation of slamming directly onto the floor.
What was even more frustrating was.. even after falling like that, he still had no way to save the ball he had lost.
Even though they were opponents, he still felt sympathy for Ishikawa.
But.. if only he could pull off a play like that one day.
Meeting Hinata's gaze, Ishikawa's expression stiffened for a moment.
Wait, what is this guy regretting? That the ball just now didn't hit him directly off the court?
Ishikawa decided to hold a grudge against Hinata; he would definitely target Hinata with his serve and spike in a moment, absolutely!
Thinking this, he adjusted his position slightly forward.
Seeing his movement, Hinata's mind rapidly reviewed his knowledge points.
Standing close to the line despite knowing the opponent would use a Power Serve essentially meant giving up on a low receive and opting for a diving back receive to save the ball.
Miya Atsumu's second serve was still aimed at Ishikawa.
The serve was incredibly fast and heavy, carrying a rotation that was difficult to resist; even though Ishikawa dove for a back receive, he still couldn't keep the ball within a controllable range.
The back receive could only do so much to keep the ball from flying out of bounds, but the heavy ball flew straight back into Inarizaki's court along the angle of his receiving movement.
"Opportunity Ball!" Arima Shuji shouted, while glancing toward Miya Atsumu with his peripheral vision, only moving forward to receive the ball after seeing him raise his hand in signal.
The ball was popped up by his hands, landing steadily toward the attack line.
Miya Atsumu took a large, diagonal stride forward, jumping from behind the three-meter line with a side-step run, raising one hand as he prepared to spike directly.
Even though they knew that more than half of the chances were just a ruse, the members of Itachiyama had no choice but to stay on guard. As Sakusa and Koldorf closed in, Inamura remained vigilant near Position 4, watching Hinata's movements.
Facing Position 4, Miya Atsumu swung his right hand down violently to spike the ball.
The volleyball grazed past the block at a very shallow angle, but the trajectory was so high that it would most likely hit the block and go out of bounds..
Koldorf, who had entered a state of descent after passing the peak, suddenly froze. Memories from last year's National Sports Festival flashed through his mind, allowing him to guess the final answer.
No..
It was a set.
But it was already too late. Before he could even speak, Hinata had already precisely intercepted the ball's path, forcefully spiking the ball, which had almost no spin, straight down.
The ball, which was already fast, became even faster with Hinata's momentum. Inaramura, who was trying to follow the block alone, had no way to limit Hinata's ability and could only watch helplessly as Hinata slammed the ball down into their court.
A heavy sound exploded as the ball hit the floor, bouncing high into the air after landing almost vertically, before rolling out of bounds.
Komori Motoya's eyes followed the trajectory of the volleyball, his face filled with shock.
Everything happened so quickly that even he couldn't react immediately.
Hinata's jump timing was even slightly earlier than Miya Atsumu's, at first, he thought Arima Shuji was going to set the ball to Hinata.
But Hinata used his terrifying hang time to force through the subsequent spike, the precision of such coordination being absolutely breathtaking.
A beautiful way to take the second point of this set. Hinata rushed over, leaping high to give Miya Atsumu a high-five.
The student has surpassed the master.
As someone who had brought this kind of chaotic tactics to the national stage, Shiratori was very satisfied with the quite terrifyingly optimized evolution seen in Miya Atsumu and Hinata.
Yeah, he was even more satisfied with this feeling of being able to fully immerse himself in watching the match alone.
But just as Shiratori was leisurely enjoying this time alone, Bokuto's loud voice echoed from the corridor outside the door.
“Natsume! Your whole wheat chicken breast, tuna, ham, egg sandwich with double lettuce is here!”
“And a fat-free oatmeal almond double espresso vanilla latte! Come and get it!”
Shiratori's breath hitched.
Slender fingers reached out and pressed the sleep button on the tablet.
The sound of a deep breath echoed, followed immediately by the tablet and phone being shoved all at once into a black backpack placed in a corner by the wall.
A figure rose quickly, running toward the dark, bottomless other end, stepping to the rhythmic beeping in his ears.
It's coming!!
And at this very moment, Unabara Uta, who had just finished getting scans at the nearest hospital, was sitting across from the doctor's desk.
The doctor in front of him, wearing glasses, stared at the digital images sent over from the radiology department on the computer, stroking his chin in thought for a while.
Unabara Uta felt his heart racing, in his nervous state, he unconsciously clenched his fists.
The ticking sound of the quartz clock's second hand rang continuously in Unabara Uta's ears, making him subconsciously think of the metronome Imai always used.
The second hand moved like that too, making a similar but crisper sound.
When he spoke with Imai on the phone yesterday, the preliminaries over there had already concluded. Inarizaki's Brass Band Club had passed the first round with the second-highest score in the entire tournament, today was the finals.
According to the schedule Imai had sent him previously, Inarizaki's matches were in the afternoon; if everything went as planned, their match would likely take place around the Fourth Set of the Finals.
But performing a musical movement takes very little time, so little that it only takes a few minutes for the judges to pass judgment on their past year.
He hoped Imai would be practicing before the match right now, instead of focusing on their game. If he saw him injured, it might affect his performance, he absolutely could not accept that.