Score: 20 - 16 Itachiyama.
Set 3.
The momentum was with Itachiyama, but Nekoma wasn't rolling over. The adjustment—Kai taking the receives—had bought Ryuu a little breathing room.
Nekoma Serve.
Yamamoto served. A decent jump serve, but Komori picked it up easily.
"Center!"
Iizuna set to the middle. Quick attack.
Kuroo was waiting.
THUD.
"One touch!" Kuroo yelled, the ball looping high into the back court.
"Chance ball!" Yaku called.
Kenma set to Ryuu.
Ryuu was ready.
He jumped.
The block was there, but Ryuu saw the seam. He swung.
BAM.
He hit a sharp cross. It wasn't his hardest hit, but it was accurate. It landed before Komori could close the distance.
Nekoma 17 - 20.
Ryuu landed, wiping his chin. "Still biting," he muttered.
______________
Score: 21 - 18 Itachiyama.
Ryuu was scoring, but for every point he got, Itachiyama answered.
Sakusa was relentless. He targeted the edges of the block, abusing the fact that Ryuu's lateral movement was slowing down.
Itachiyama attacked. Sakusa hit a wipe off Ryuu's hand.
ZING.
The ball flew out... but Yaku threw a foot out. He kicked the ball up.
"Saved!"
The ball flew toward the net. It was tight.
Kuroo jumped. The Itachiyama middle jumped. A joust.
Kuroo gritted his teeth. 'Ryuu is gassed. I have to win this.'
He didn't just push; he swiped. He muscled the ball over the opponent's hands.
SMACK.
He forced the ball down onto the Itachiyama side.
Nekoma 19 - 21.
Kuroo landed and roared, pointing at his team. "WE AREN'T DONE! DIG IN!"
Ryuu looked at Kuroo's back. The Captain was covering the net, taking the pressure off.
"Show off," Ryuu panted, a small smile appearing.
______________
Score: 23 - 20 Itachiyama.
Nekoma fought for every inch, but Itachiyama was a machine designed to crush hope.
Iizuna set to Sakusa.
Ryuu jumped to block. His legs burned. He was a fraction of a second late sealing the line.
Sakusa saw the gap.
He didn't hit a crazy spin shot. He didn't hit a wipe.
He hit a laser-straight line shot through the gap Ryuu left open.
BAM.
The ball hit the corner.
Itachiyama 24 - 20. Set Point.
Sakusa landed. He looked at Ryuu.
"Your block is drifting," Sakusa said calmly. "You're tired, and you're getting lazy with your hands."
Ryuu glared at him, sweat stinging his eyes. "I'll drift my fist into your face."
"Save your energy," Sakusa turned away. "You'll need it to walk home."
______________
Score: 24 - 20.
Set Point for Itachiyama to go up 2-1.
Iizuna served.
Kai cut in front of Ryuu again. "Mine!"
He received it perfectly.
"Kenma!"
It was the moment of truth. Go to the exhausted Ace, or use a decoy?
Here is the revision. I slowed down the moment the ball deflects to create that suspense—the feeling that Nekoma has won the point, only for the Number 1 Libero to shatter that hope.
Kenma looked at Ryuu.
Ryuu wasn't speaking, but his eyes were screaming. They burned with a desperate, starving light.
'Give it to me.'
Kenma set to Ryuu.
Ryuu approached. He didn't run; he threw his body forward. He poured every last drop of energy he had left into his screaming quadriceps.
'Jump!'
He took off.
Three blockers rose with him. Sakusa. The Middle. The Opposite.
A complete, impenetrable yellow wall.
Ryuu knew he couldn't blast through it.
'Aim high. Use the fingers.'
Ryuu swung. He brushed the ball against the very tips of the blockers' fingers.
Ting.
The ball deflected off the block. It looped high and deep, sailing over the defenders' heads toward the empty back court.
Ryuu watched it fall.
'It's down. That's a point.'
The crowd inhaled, ready to cheer for Nekoma. The ball was falling into open space.
But then, a shadow moved.
It wasn't a frantic dive. It was terrifyingly calm.
Komori Motoya, the Number 1 Libero, was already there. He hadn't defended the spike; he had predicted the wipe.
"Not yet," Komori whispered.
He stepped under the falling ball. He didn't just dig it; he absorbed it with his hands, turning the defensive save into a perfect, high arc.
It wasn't a dig. It was a set.
"Counter!"
Iizuna didn't touch it. He didn't need to.
Sakusa Kiyoomi was already in the air on the left.
Ryuu had just landed. He was stuck to the floor, his knees buckled from the landing impact. He couldn't move. He could only watch.
The Nekoma net was wide open.
Sakusa didn't hit a line shot or a cut. He hit it straight down.
KABOOM.
The ball slammed into the floor so hard it bounced up to the ceiling.
For one second, the stadium was dead silent.
The image of the ball hitting the floor, undefended, seared into everyone's mind.
Tweet.
The whistle blew. Sharp. Final. Merciless.
Then, the noise exploded. A deafening roar that shook the stands.
Game Set.
Itachiyama Wins Set 3: 25 - 20.
Set Count: Itachiyama 2 - 1 Nekoma.
Ryuu stood there, hands on his knees, staring at the spot where the ball had landed.
Nekoma was down. One more set loss, and their tournament was over.
___________
Ryuu stood with his hands on his knees, staring at the scuff marks on the floor. The sweat was dripping off his nose in a steady stream, creating a small dark puddle on the wood. Drip. Drip. Drip.
"Damn it," Ryuu whispered, his chest heaving painfully.
Across the net, Itachiyama was celebrating. It wasn't the wild, explosive joy of an underdog; it was the sharp, aggressive relief of a champion that had just survived a scare.
Komori was high-fiving Iizuna aggressively. Even Sakusa unclenched his fists, letting out a long, heavy exhale, though he immediately wiped his hands on his jersey as if the very air was contaminated.
Ryuu tried to straighten up. His vision swam for a second, the court lights blurring into streaks. He felt a hand shove his back. Not gently. It was Kuroo.
"Don't look down," Kuroo said, his voice grating and breathless. "You look like you're attending your own funeral."
Ryuu blinked, forcing his eyes to focus. "I'm not... dead yet."
"Good," Kuroo steered him forcibly toward the bench. "Because we have one more set to save our lives. Go sit down. Drink. And for the love of god, shut up for five minutes."
_______________
Ryuu collapsed onto the bench. His legs felt less like muscle and more like lead pipes. Kenma appeared instantly, shoving a foil packet into his hand.
"Eat," Kenma said flatly. "Your reaction time is lagging. You're blinking too slow."
Ryuu didn't argue. He tore the packet open with his teeth and swallowed the gel. It tasted like fake orange syrup and chemicals, stinging his throat, but he forced it down.
Coach Nekomata stood in front of them. The atmosphere wasn't depressive, but it was suffocatingly heavy.
"They are strong," Nekomata said, his voice raspy. "Sakusa has figured out the timing of our block. Iizuna is dragging Ryuu around the court like a dog on a leash."
The team looked at the old coach. Nekomata's eyes shifted to Ryuu, who was gasping for air, towel over his head.
"The spear is dull right now," Nekomata stated bluntly. "If we keep trying to stab them with a broken tip, we lose."
Nekomata looked at Kuroo, Kai, and Yaku—the veterans. The foundation. "So for Set 4... we stop trying to be a powerhouse. We go back to being cats."
Kuroo stood up. He cracked his knuckles, a dangerous grin spreading across his face.
"We connect," Kuroo said. "We stop Sakusa. We stop their middle. We make the rallies so disgusting and long that they wish they were dead."
He looked down at Ryuu. "You rest, Monster," Kuroo said, his voice dropping to a serious tone. "You catch your breath. Stop jumping at everything. We'll hold the line until you're ready to kill again."
Ryuu looked up at his teammates. Yaku was stretching his hamstrings, looking fierce. Kai was calm, adjusting his kneepads. Yamamoto was slapping his own cheeks to hype himself up.
For the first time all game, Ryuu felt small. Not in a bad way. But in a way that reminded him that before he was the "Red Giant," this team was already the "Shield."
"Don't take too long," Ryuu grumbled, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. "You know I hate waiting."
"We know," Yaku smirked, tightening his shoelaces. "Just be ready to wake up when we call you."
The buzzer sounded for Set 4. Nekoma stood up. Their Ace stayed seated for a moment longer, gathering the scattered pieces of his stamina.
The Shield of Nekoma was moving out.