Haru's POV
They call them the New Wave.
First-years from nearby prep schools. No pressure, no past. Just fire and momentum.
They're fast. Aggressive. Untested.
Exactly what we used to be.
Coach sets up the scrimmage as a final tune-up before the season shift.
"Treat it like any other match," he says.
But we know better.
This one's personal.
Rio's POV
First game: they come out swinging.
Cross-court slams. Fake drop shots. Obnoxiously sharp serves.
We drop the first few points. The old us might've panicked.
Now?
We just adjust.
Because our play isn't built on panic anymore.
It's built on balance.
Sora's POV
I sit on the sideline, notebook in hand.
They still don't realize it—but the real test isn't if they win.
It's how they play when someone younger, faster, louder tries to rattle them.
And watching them shift seamlessly between positions, flow into formation, cover for one another—
I see it.
They're not chasing purpose anymore.
They are purpose.
Aoi's POV
Match point.
Sho's up front.
Tanaka's running cover behind me.
Rio calls the switch.
And for a second, I see our reflection on the other side of the net:
Hungry kids who haven't lost yet.
Who haven't failed enough to find themselves.
We trade three shots.
Then four.
Then five.
On the sixth, I reset the play—not because it's planned, but because I trust the read.
I curve the ball wide.
Rio finishes it with a net tap so clean the crowd doesn't even cheer at first.
They exhale.
Final Scene – Team Debrief
Coach Kubo:
"You didn't win because you were stronger."
Aoi:
"Then why?"
Coach Kubo:
"Because you finally stopped playing like you had something to prove."
Haru:
"And started playing like we had something to give."
Sora:
"You're not playing for Mirai anymore."
Rio:
"We're playing because she gave us the chance to."
Sho:
"What should we call this version of Kaimei?"
Tanaka:
"Easy."
He points to the strategy board.
At the top is a phrase someone—probably Aoi—wrote after their last serve drill:
Purpose Play.