Chapitre 12: Chapter 12: Transition
(A/N: I literally just said that using "tell" was boring so I'm sorta a hypocrite.)
[Sets]
[Yukigaoka: 1]
[Kitagawa Daiichi: 0]
The end of the first set was rather anticlimactic. To make it simple, what happened was, Kitagawa Daiichi served and young Mori managed to get the ball, swinging it back over in an overpass. It went once again, straight to the libero, but this time, instead of a somewhat reasonable toss, Tobio Kageyama threw the most horrifically unreasonable quick of all time.
In all ridiculousness, the middle blocker did not manage to even touch the ball, and it fell to the ground. Tanaka shrugged off his unending questions as he watched the ball drop just shy of Kindaichi's feet.
Silence reigned through the gym.
Kageyama stared in silence, his head tilted and hands still up and out as he watched the yellow-blue ball roll across the glistening resin wood flooring. A gloomy foreboding aura seemed to fill the air as his serious expression contorted to god knew what. His hands clenched into fists as his pupils dilated.
Around him, the rest of the team shuffled about awkwardly, looking at each other for an excuse from Kageyama's wrath. But to their surprise, it never came. Instead, a low growl followed the lost point as he whipped around and stormed towards the bench.
The whistle blew throughout the court signaling the end of the first set. On the other side, the situation was quite different. About half of the members were bursting into tears while the others were celebrating so voraciously that the most nonsensical crap spouted from their mouths.
"I- Hayato!!!! I- Hinata!!!! "
"We are getting grilled squid tonight! We beat one of the top schools!"
"We still have another set. Remember."
They ran over to the bench, clapping each other on the back and wiping the sweat off their faces. Hayato sat back on the metal bench, taking a large swig of his cold icy water. Everyone around him chatted in excitement
Hinata was as elated as could be. This was his first-ever volleyball match and he'd just taken the first set along with his friends. He couldn't be happier.
Hayato's eyes flicked towards a high window outside the gym. He could see the blue sky darkening and the outline of old concrete buildings. His hands rested on his knees as his mind darted about. Sure, he was happy with the results of the first set, after all, it provided them with a buffer along with an increase in morale.
For now, he had to work on figuring out the second set. It was the other team's serve this time so he needed to have a decent serve-receive lineup. Things could go wrong if Kitagawa Daiichi got into a serving run.
Being a setter was such a headache. When he was outside, all he had to do was receive the ball, cover, and of course, smash it over. There was also serving, but every one did that in the same position and such. When he was a setter, Hayato had to get extremely creative to get around blocks with novice hitters.
Diversions, distractions, and so on. He would have to pull all the tricks out of the bag. A third set would be too costly and drawn out, half of their team was made up of fresh elementary schoolers so their stamina couldn't be said to be that good.
Maybe he should start with them serving after their first side-out. Widen the gap or fill in for any wounds received. But then their team's single-man blocking would suffer… Hayato shrugged that thought off.
He'd been pretty lucky with his predictions lately. While reading hits to block was in some ways advantageous, it was also easy to be juked out.
That was why most conventional beginner players were taught to not act on instinct, at least from his experience. Still, he was their only front-row defense which meant that if he was back-row serving, Kitagawa Daiichi could simply tip it.
Now, with such powerful and wicked serves in Hayato's arsenal, why would he be so worried? All he had to do was keep them in and lethal, right? Nope.
The reincarnator was actually worried that someone would manage to bump it. Even if it was a powerful and skillful server, there was always that chance, even slim that someone would dig it. Or it would just rocket out.
Even if these kids were not in the same league as him (humbly and literally speaking), he wasn't that arrogant to think that every ball he sent over would fall to the floor no-touch. Hayato had lost many games to people tens of years younger than him.
A minute or so passed as they chatted and Hayato got the rotations figured out
*Fweee!!!!*
And soon enough, it was time to return to the court.
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(A/N: Sorta short)
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone