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The Aoba Johsai gym settled into a hush of exhausted murmurs and lingering disbelief as the second set ended, Karasuno's victory sealing a 2-0 sweep over the powerhouse. The sound of the referee's whistle echoed like a drumbeat of triumph.
For a moment, everything stood still. Then the Karasuno bench erupted.
Hinata fell to his knees, arms in the air, panting, grinning so wide it almost hurt. We did it... we beat them. We beat Aoba Johsai!
Tanaka let out a roar, pumping both fists in the air. "YEEEEEAHHH! That's how you do it, baby!" His shout bounced off the walls, as if trying to engrave the victory into the very structure of the gym.
Yamaguchi practically bounced, even though he hadn't stepped on court. "Hinata! That line shot! That was so cool!!"
Hinata wiped sweat from his brow, still kneeling. "I thought it'd go out for a second…" he panted, laughing breathlessly. "But it dropped! It dropped!"
Kageyama turned toward him, brows drawn together in concentration—and something else. "The timing was good," he said simply. But then, quietly, almost inaudibly, "…Nice kill."
Hinata looked up, startled, then beamed. Praise from Kageyama meant more than he'd ever admit aloud.
The teams lined up for their final bow. Aoba Johsai's side was tight-lipped, frustration written in their shoulders. Oikawa's ever-present smirk was still there, but his eyes were narrowed—less teasing, more calculating. Iwaizumi's glare was aimed at the floor, jaw clenched so hard it looked painful.
Karasuno bowed, still buzzing with adrenaline. The net came down, and the gym felt... different. The kind of change that only comes after something important breaks through.
Near their bench, Daichi gathered his team in. His voice, though calm, pulsed with pride. "That was Aoba Johsai—a team with one of the best setters in the prefecture. And we took them down in straight sets."
He turned to each of them. "Hinata—those spikes and blocks? Insane. Kageyama, you were in complete control today. Tsukishima, your blocks set the pace. Tanaka, your power threw them off rhythm. Ennoshita—you held that back line like a pro. Everyone—this is how we build a team."
Tanaka whooped. "We smoked those pretty boys! Smashed 'em!" He thumped his chest.
Hinata was still catching his breath, but his grin was fierce. "Oikawa's serves were insane"
Kageyama grunted. "We could've ended it faster." His scowl returned briefly, then faded as his lips twitched into something just short of a smirk. "But that quick... was decent."
Tsukishima adjusted his glasses and drawled, "They weren't that impressive," though his flushed cheeks said otherwise.
Ennoshita rubbed the back of his neck, giving a quiet smile. "Thanks, Daichi-senpai. I was just trying not to screw up."
Sugawara clapped everyone on the back, his own eyes gleaming. "Hinata—that line shot? Pure gold. Oikawa didn't even move." He nudged Kageyama with an elbow. "You two are getting scary."
Shimizu stood nearby, clipboard tucked under one arm. "Hinata's versatility—spikes, blocks, receives—it's standing out more each match. Everyone's improving."
Her quiet praise caught Hinata off guard. "Ah—uh, thanks, Shimizu-senpai!" he stammered, cheeks red from more than exertion.
On the opposite side of the court, Aoba Johsai's coach Nobuteru Irihata pulled his team into a circle. His tone was low, heavy.
"You fought hard," he said. "But Karasuno outplayed us—plain and simple. Their setter, Kageyama, is a machine. Controls the rhythm like he's been doing it for years. Their captain keeps them calm. Tanaka's a damn bulldozer. Tsukishima's a wall. Ennoshita saved plays we were sure were ours."
His gaze swept the team. "And that Hinata kid. First year. 170 centimeters. And he ripped through triple blocks like they were nothing. He shut down our hitters. That line shot? Nailed Oikawa in place."
Silence.
Oikawa tossed a ball lazily in the air, eyes distant. "Come on, Coach, don't be dramatic. Tobio-chan's always had that robotic energy. And that shrimp just got lucky. Next time... I'll shut him down."
Iwaizumi elbowed him sharply. "You served five in a row and still couldn't finish it."
Oikawa pouted. "Iwa-chan! So mean!"
Irihata sighed. "Focus. Karasuno's climbing. They're dangerous now. Learn from this."
Kindaichi shook his head. "Hinata's… a monster."
Kunimi yawned. "They're still scrappy. We just weren't sharp."
Matsukawa nodded. "They've got fire. Front row's vicious. Next time, we plan better."
As the teams packed up, Daichi approached Takeda near the gym's doors. "Sensei," he said quietly. "Today proved it—we can go far. But we need a real coach. Someone to help us see what we're missing ahh I'm sorry that came out wrong."
Takeda blinked. "I thought… I thought you said—"
Daichi shook his head. "No. I said we didn't have one. Not that we didn't need one."
Takeda adjusted his glasses, heart pounding. The realization settled deep. "You're right. I'll start looking. There's someone who might… still be around."
Ukai… maybe it's time.
"Good work today," he added, clapping Daichi's shoulder.
Karasuno exited into the cool evening air, still radiating victory. As they crossed the lot, Oikawa leaned against the wall near the exit, arms crossed.
"Well, well, Karasuno," he drawled, his grin back. "Nice little show. Especially you, Tobio-chan." He wiggled his fingers in a wave.
Kageyama didn't respond. He stared hard at his former senpai.
Oikawa turned to Hinata. "And you—what's your name, shrimp? That last spike was rude."
Hinata straightened and proud. "Hinata Shoyo!!"
Oikawa laughed, genuinely amused. "Oh, I like you! Watch out—I'm going to crush you next time, okay?"
He winked.
Daichi stepped between them with a smirk. "We'll be ready."
Oikawa waved. "Tell your old coach hi from me—if he's still alive!"
Iwaizumi shouted from behind, "Oikawa! Quit flirting and get moving!"
"Always so strict, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa sighed dramatically and strolled off.
Karasuno climbed aboard the bus, Tanaka yelling, "We're unstoppable!" as he high-fived everyone in reach.
Hinata flopped into a seat, still riding the adrenaline high, then froze—Kiyoko was sitting beside him, clipboard balanced on her knees.
"Oh—Shimizu-senpai!" he squeaked. "Sorry—I didn't see—uh—"
She gave him a small smile. "You were distracted. Good match. That last spike? Perfectly placed."
Hinata blinked, then broke into a sheepish grin. "Thanks"
She nodded. "You did."
As the bus rumbled to life, pulling away from the gym, the team sank into tired chatter, quiet laughs, and occasional snores. Outside, the stars were just starting to peek out. Inside, Takeda stared out the window, mind already turning.
We need a coach… and we'll find one. This team deserves it.
Hinata leaned back, eyes heavy, heart full.
They were wingless crows once. But now… they were learning to fly.
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To be continued...