The whistle had blown, but the noise in the stadium hadn't stopped. It was a constant, rolling thunder of applause and cheers that vibrated in the floorboards.
The teams lined up at the net.
It was a stark contrast of body language.
On the Itachiyama side, the yellow-green jerseys were slumped. Iizuna was staring at his shoes, tears dripping off his nose. Komori was wiping his eyes aggressively with his sleeve, trying to smile at his teammates but failing miserably.
On the Nekoma side, the red jerseys were upright, but barely. They looked like survivors of a shipwreck. Ryuu had a bruise blooming on his forearm. Kuroo was favoring his left leg. Kai looked like he might fall asleep standing up.
They walked forward.
Ryuu Gojou stood directly across from Sakusa Kiyoomi.
Sakusa looked terrible. His usually pristine hair was a mess of sweat and gel, plastered to his forehead. His jersey was stained dark. He looked at Ryuu, his eyes red-rimmed but dry.
Ryuu extended his hand under the net.
Sakusa stared at it. He hesitated. He hated germs. He hated physical contact. And more than anything, he hated losing.
But he reached out. He gripped Ryuu's hand. It wasn't a friendly shake; it was a grip of frustration.
"You stole my shot," Sakusa said, his voice raspy and quiet. "The wrist snap. You copied it."
Ryuu didn't smirk. He didn't taunt. He just nodded, his chest heaving with exhaustion.
"It was the only way around you," Ryuu admitted, his voice rough as sandpaper. "You guys sealed everything else. It was a good weapon to steal."
Sakusa's grip tightened for a second, then he let go, immediately wiping his palm on his shorts. He didn't make a grand speech.
"It won't work next time," Sakusa muttered, turning away to walk down the line.
Ryuu watched him go, feeling the phantom pressure of the handshake.
"Next time," Ryuu whispered to himself.
..
The court was cleared. A podium was set up in the center. The lights dimmed slightly, focusing on the center stage.
The announcer's voice echoed through the massive gymnasium.
"Third Place... Inarizaki High School and Kamomedai High School."
"Second Place... Itachiyama Institute."
Itachiyama climbed the podium. They received their silver medals. They looked miserable. Silver is the hardest medal to wear because you have to lose the final game to get it.
"And now... The Inter-High National Champions... Nekoma High School!"
Kuroo stepped up first.
The "Scheming Captain" tried to keep his cool. He tried to plaster on his usual provocative grin for the cameras. But when the official handed him the Championship Flag—the heavy, velvet flag that represented being the best in Japan—his face crumbled.
He bowed his head low, hiding his eyes behind his messy black fringe. His shoulders shook violently.
Kai placed a steady hand on Kuroo's back. Yaku stood on the other side, biting his lip so hard it turned white, refusing to cry while the cameras were rolling.
Then came the medals.
The official placed the gold medal around Ryuu's neck.
Ryuu looked down at it.
It was heavy. Cold against his heated skin.
He lifted it with his hand. It wasn't magic. It was just metal. But it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds—weighted with every sprint, every receive drill, every drop of sweat since April.
Ryuu looked at the stands.
He saw the Nekoma cheering squad. They were crying, hugging each other.
He saw Alisa (Lev's sister) screaming and waving a scarf.
He saw Akane (Yamamoto's sister) bawling her eyes out into a towel.
Then he looked at the bench.
Coach Nekomata stood there. The old man wasn't cheering. He was just standing with his hands behind his back, a soft, trembling smile on his face. He looked at his team on the podium, and for a moment, the wrinkles seemed to smooth out. He looked decades younger.
Ryuu nudged Kenma, who was staring at his medal with a blank expression.
"Look at the old man," Ryuu whispered.
Kenma looked over. He stared at Nekomata for a long moment.
"He looks..." Kenma paused, searching for the word. "Relieved."
Kenma clutched his gold medal a little tighter. "I'm glad we won."
...
While Nekoma stood on the podium, the world outside was reacting.
At Fukurodani Academy (Tokyo):
The team was crowded around a tablet in the club room.
Bokuto Koutarou was staring at the screen, his golden eyes wide. He wasn't cheering. He was vibrating with a terrifying energy.
"Akaashi..." Bokuto whispered.
"Yes, Bokuto-san?"
"He did it. That monster actually did it." Bokuto stood up so fast his chair clattered to the floor. "I HAVE TO BEAT HIM! AKAASHI, TOSS TO ME! RIGHT NOW! I CAN'T LOSE TO A FIRST YEAR!"
Akaashi sighed, but a small smile played on his lips. "It's 8 PM, Bokuto-san. But... fine. Ten tosses."
At Inarizaki High (Hyogo):
The twins were packing up their bags to leave the stadium. They paused to watch the ceremony on the big screen.
Miya Atsumu narrowed his eyes at Ryuu holding the trophy.
"That guy..." Atsumu muttered. "He's rough. His form is still a bit messy."
"But he scores," Osamu finished, unwrapping a protein bar.
"I want to set to him," Atsumu said, a weird, hungry grin forming. "Just once. I want to see if I can make him hit something he can't handle."
At Karasuno High (Miyagi):
The team was gathered around a small TV in the gym storeroom, sweating from practice.
Hinata Shouyou was glued to the screen, his face inches from the glass.
"He's huge," Hinata whispered, awe in his voice. "And he's fast. And he can receive. He's like... the ultimate decoy and the ace at the same time."
Kageyama Tobio was staring at Kenma. 'He used the Ace as a decoy on match point. He baited the blockers with the guy who scored 30 points. Nekoma isn't just defense anymore.'
"We have to play them," Hinata turned to Kageyama, his eyes burning.
"Obviously, dumbass," Kageyama snapped, though his grip on his water bottle was white-knuckled.
.....
Back on the court, the media swarm had descended.
Reporters were hungry. They wanted the story. They wanted the "Giant Killing" angle.
A reporter from Volleyball Monthly managed to pull Ryuu aside. A cameraman zoomed in.
Reporter: "Gojou-kun! Congratulations! You are the first-year Ace who led Nekoma to their first-ever National Title. You just beat the favorites, Itachiyama. How are you feeling right now?"
Ryuu held a towel around his neck, wiping sweat from his jaw. He looked exhausted, but his eyes were dancing with a mischievous light.
He leaned into the microphone.
Ryuu: "Hungry."
The reporter blinked.
Reporter: "Hungry?"
Ryuu: "Starving. Winning Nationals burns a lot of calories." He pointed at the camera with a grin. "Hey, Captain! I hope you're watching. You owe me a steak dinner. And not the cheap stuff. I want the premium wagyu. Prepare your wallet, Kuroo-san."
The reporter laughed, charmed by the brazen attitude.
Reporter: "I'm sure he heard that! Now, tell us about that final point. You used a cut shot inside the 3-meter line. That is Sakusa-kun's signature shot. Was that planned?"
Ryuu rubbed the back of his neck, wincing slightly as he touched a sore muscle, but his smirk didn't fade.
Ryuu: "Planned? Let's call it... calculated improvisation."
He glanced over at the tunnel where Itachiyama had disappeared.
Ryuu: "Sakusa has a really nasty weapon there. I saw him use it all game. I thought, 'Hey, that looks cool. I want that.'"
He shrugged, looking incredibly pleased with himself.
Ryuu: "So I took it. Consider it a souvenir from the match. It's mine now."
Reporter: "You make it sound so simple! With the Summer Training Camp coming up, all eyes will be on Nekoma. Do you have a message for the other powerhouses—like Ushijima-san or Bokuto-san—who are coming for your title?"
Ryuu looked directly into the lens.
For a second, the reporter expected a humble answer. 'We'll do our best.'
Ryuu's eyes sharpened. The playful glint hardened into something predatory.
Ryuu: "Everyone calls them the Kings. They call us the defensive team. The quiet cats."
He tapped the gold medal on his chest. Clink.
Ryuu: "But the Kings just got dethroned. The seat is taken."
He leaned closer to the camera, cracking a tired, shark-like grin.
Ryuu: "If Ushijima-san or Bokuto-san want it back... tell them to come get it. But warn them first."
He cracked a grin.
Ryuu: "But tell them to bring their best defense. Because I'm not planning on missing."
...
Two hours later.
The sun had set. The bus rolled down the highway back toward Tokyo.
The celebration was over. The noise was gone.
Inside the bus, it was dead silent.
Kuroo was asleep, head thrown back, mouth wide open, snoring softly—a sound that was usually annoying, but now just sounded peaceful.
Kai was asleep next to him, arms crossed.
Yaku was asleep, slumped against the cold window.
Kenma was curled up in his seat, hoodie up, fast asleep with his game console in his lap. Even in sleep, he looked like he was recharging.
Ryuu sat in the back row. He couldn't sleep. His knees throbbed with a dull, persistent ache.
He reached into his bag and pulled out the medal case. He opened it.
The gold medal caught the passing streetlights.
National Champion.
It felt surreal. A few months ago, he was just a tall kid with a big mouth and raw talent. Now, he was the best in Japan.
He closed the case with a snap.
He looked out the window at the Tokyo skyline approaching in the distance.
'This is just the start,' Ryuu thought, his eyelids finally growing heavy. 'Next is the Summer Camp. Then Spring High. Then the world.'
He leaned his head against the cool glass and finally closed his eyes.
The Red Giant slept.
[End of Arc: The Inter-High]