The buzzer sounded for the break.
Ryuu walked to the bench. The swagger was gone. His gait was heavy, deliberate, like a man walking through waist-deep water. He collapsed onto the bench and immediately leaned forward, elbows on his knees, head hanging low to maximize oxygen intake.
He grabbed a water bottle and squeezed it into his mouth, not caring that half of it spilled down his chin and mixed with the sweat soaking his jersey.
"You ran a lot," Kenma said, sitting next to him. He wasn't looking at Ryuu, just staring at the floor while holding an ice pack to his neck. "Your court coverage in Set 2 was 30% higher than average."
"Yeah?" Ryuu gasped, crushing the plastic bottle and tossing it into the bin. "Feels like double."
He wiped his face with a towel, the fabric feeling rough against his sensitive skin. His legs felt like they were filled with wet sand. The "Zone" was a loan from the body, and now the debt collectors were knocking.
"They're going to come for you," Kuroo said, standing over him, hands on his hips. "Set 3. They know you're gassed. Sakusa isn't going to play nice."
"Let them come," Ryuu grunted, forcing himself to sit up straight. "I'm not dead yet."
_____________
Set 3 Start.
Score: 0 - 0.
The teams switched sides.
Ryuu walked back onto the court. He shook his legs out, slapping his quads, trying to get the blood flowing.
Across the net, Sakusa Kiyoomi was waiting.
The air of fastidious cleanliness was gone. Sakusa didn't wipe his shoes. He didn't check the floor for dust. He stood with a dark, brooding intensity, his black eyes locked on Ryuu.
"Hey," Sakusa said. The voice was flat.
Ryuu looked up.
"You look slow," Sakusa stated.
Ryuu forced a grin, though it felt tight and brittle. "And you look like you need a shower. What's your point?"
Sakusa turned away without blinking. "Iizuna-san. Target him."
_____
Score: Itachiyama 3 - 1.
The game began, and the strategy was brutal in its simplicity.
Iizuna served. He didn't aim for the corners to score an ace. He aimed a short, nasty floater right at Ryuu's chest in the front row.
Ryuu had to react. He took a step back and bumped it up.
"Kenma!"
Ryuu landed from the receive and tried to transition to his approach. But the stop-start motion was sluggish. He was half a step behind his usual tempo.
Kenma set him anyway—he had to.
Ryuu jumped.
The Itachiyama block—Sakusa, the Middle, and the Opposite—was already there. A solid yellow wall, perfectly formed.
THUD.
Ryuu's spike hit the meat of the block. It didn't blast through. It didn't ricochet out. It fell harmlessly back onto the Nekoma side.
"Cover!" Yaku dove, scraping his chin, but the ball hit the floor.
Itachiyama 4 - 1.
Ryuu landed. He stared at his hands.
'No pop,' he thought, frustration curling in his gut. 'I hit it square, but the explosion wasn't there.'
_____
Score: Itachiyama 8 - 4.
The gap was widening. Not an avalanche, but a steady, bleeding drip. Ryuu was getting touches, but he wasn't killing the ball. He was getting dug, soft-blocked, or forced to tip.
Sakusa, meanwhile, was efficient. He hit a wipe off Ryuu's late block, tooling the fingers perfectly.
Itachiyama 9 - 4.
The buzzer sounded.
Timeout Nekoma.
Ryuu frowned, wiping sweat from his eyes. "I don't need a break."
He walked to the bench anyway, his chest heaving.
Coach Nekomata stood with his arms crossed. He didn't look angry. He looked like a grandfather watching a toddler try to carry a heavy box up a flight of stairs.
"You're greedy, Ryuu," Nekomata said softly.
Ryuu paused, water bottle halfway to his mouth. "Hah?"
"You want to receive the ball, you want to hit the ball, you want to block the ball," Nekomata said. "In Set 2, you could do it because you were on fire. Now? You're just a tired boy getting in your own way."
Ryuu clenched his jaw. "I can still score."
"I know you can," Nekomata nodded. "But you can't do everything else."
Nekomata turned to Kai and Yamamoto.
"Stop letting him receive," Nekomata ordered. "If the serve is anywhere near him, you take it. Squeeze his zone. Even if you have to cut him off. Ryuu is banned from passing unless it's going to hit him in the face."
Kai nodded calmly. "Understood."
"And Ryuu," Nekomata looked back at the Ace. "Stop trying to hit a home run every time. If the block is there, use it. Reset. You don't have to be a monster every point. Just be a volleyball player."
Ryuu stared at the old coach. The anger flared for a second—the pride of the Ace—then died down under the weight of exhaustion. He knew Nekomata was right.
"Fine," Ryuu muttered. "I'll be a passenger for a bit."
"Not a passenger," Kuroo said, slapping his back hard enough to make him stumble. "A cannon. We load you, you fire. Stop trying to do everything yourself."
____________
Score: 9 - 4 Itachiyama.
The timeout ended.
Iizuna served again. He aimed for Ryuu—testing the waters.
Ryuu moved to take it out of habit.
"MINE!"
Kai Nobuyuki cut in front of him. He stepped right into Ryuu's zone, bumping shoulders with him, and took the pass cleanly.
"Nice pass, Kai!"
Ryuu stumbled back, surprised. He was free. He didn't have to recover from the dig.
He ran his approach. His legs felt a little lighter without the receiving step.
Kenma set to him.
Ryuu jumped. The block was there.
'Don't hit a home run.'
Ryuu saw Sakusa's hand. Instead of swinging through with max power, he aimed high.
He hit a high wipe off Sakusa's fingertips.
The ball looped high, cleared the block, and landed deep in the court—a rebound play that turned into a point.
Nekoma 5 - 9.
Ryuu landed. It wasn't a flashy kill. But it was a point.
"Thanks for the cut," Ryuu muttered to Kai.
"Don't mention it," Kai smiled, his expression serene. "Just get ready for the next one."
____________________
Score: Itachiyama 15 - 11.
The game stabilized. Nekoma stopped bleeding points, but Itachiyama was still in control. Sakusa was playing relentless, annoying volleyball—always precise, always spin-heavy.
Rally at 15 - 11.
Itachiyama attacked. Sakusa spiked.
Yaku dug it. "Center!"
Kenma set to Kuroo. A Quick attack.
The Itachiyama middle touched it. "One touch!"
Komori saved it.
"Counter!"
Iizuna set to Sakusa on the left.
Ryuu jumped to block. He was late closing the seam.
Sakusa saw it. He didn't hesitate. He hit a sharp line shot right past Ryuu's ear.
BAM.
It hit the floor.
Itachiyama 16 - 11.
Sakusa landed and looked at Ryuu.
"You're reacting slow," Sakusa noted. "Your vertical is dropping. You're jump-height is down by at least five centimeters."
Ryuu wiped sweat from his eye. He didn't taunt back. He didn't have the breath for it.
"Just play the game, Sakusa," Ryuu wheezed. "Stop doing math."
_________________
Score: Itachiyama 20 - 15.
The set was slipping away. Itachiyama was too consistent to lose a 5-point lead easily.
But Ryuu wasn't done.
Kenma noticed something. The Itachiyama blockers were getting comfortable. They were jumping on rhythm, trusting that Ryuu was slow.
"Ryuu," Kenma whispered during a rotation. "Tempo."
Ryuu nodded. He understood immediately.
Next Rally.
Kai received.
"Kenma!"
Ryuu started his run. He pushed his legs. He ran fast. He looked like he was going for a Minus Tempo quick—a suicide run.
The Itachiyama blockers jumped early, trying to match his speed before he could blow past them.
But Kenma didn't set immediately. He held the ball for a split second.
Pause.
Ryuu was already in the air. The blockers were starting to fall.
Kenma pushed the ball to Ryuu.
Ryuu swung while hanging. He hit over the falling block.
BOOM.
A clean kill.
Nekoma 16 - 20.
Ryuu landed. He didn't celebrate. He just put his hands on his knees and breathed, staring at the floor.
"Nice delay," Ryuu panted.
"They're watching you too hard," Kenma said quietly. "We can use that."
The set wasn't over. Nekoma was down, and Ryuu was running on fumes, but the gears were starting to turn again.