At the net, Nekoma's two blockers froze in disbelief.
At the very moment their fingertips reached their highest point,
Karasuno's #15 was still hovering over ten centimeters above them.
"Are you kidding me?! How is this even blockable?!"
"Seriously, how?!"
The blockers, led by Kuroo, widened their eyes midair, staring at the impossibly tall, slick-backed beauty in front of them.
In the past, they'd faced the likes of Fukurodani's long-eared owl, a player with incredible height, power, and finesse, capable of spiking varied, unpredictable lines.
They'd also faced Tsutomu Goshiki, the mask-wearing, whip-wristed beast whose spin was nearly supernatural, able to out-rotate even ace hitters.
But this, this wasn't finesse, spin, or sheer force.
Guren simply jumped, and with unstoppable height, annihilated everything.
"This is too much… totally cheating!"
Kuroo managed a bitter smile midair, spreading his arms to give the backrow as much coverage as possible.
But it was no use. Guren, soaring above, ignored the double block with indifferent eyes, scanning the ground defense of Nekoma as if it were a wide-open field.
His eyes were already above their level. Four arms? How much area could they possibly cover?
A mere tilt of his head, and the entire Nekoma defense lay exposed beneath him.
Even during match point, Guren had the time to casually critique from midair:
"Your overall positioning is a bit right-heavy. Come on, shift left."
True trash-talk artistry.
Just one sentence, and the fully immersed Nekoma team boiled with rage.
"This bastard!"
"Unbelievable!"
Even Kenma, usually so calm, felt a faint spark of irritation rise.
Guren, already slightly vindictive, grew happier seeing Nekoma's players riled up.
He raised his arms and smashed down an unblockable super-heavy cannon spike.
The volleyball struck the floor with a BOOM, its force so extreme it bounced high enough to reach the second-floor stands.
Karasuno 25:23 Nekoma.
Guren's nearly unsolvable spike, ignoring the block, had delivered his signature damage at match point, securing the first set.
Kenma, who normally regarded wins and losses lightly, didn't remain as detached as usual.
His expression grew complex, unlike his usual "It's fine, no problem" attitude.
From Karasuno's bench, Hoshino observed him and slowly interpreted the meaning behind Kenma's expression:
"Ah… a bit annoyed, but not really mad. Still… this guy is so frustrating. Makes me want to mess with him."
"I thought he was just acting, but even after seeing through him, his skill is still messing with me."
Tsukishima, puzzled, glanced at Hoshino.
How could a human face reveal so much?
Even emotions seemed layered:
Hoshino couldn't be sure if he read Kenma correctly, but he was certain he saw a flicker of irritation in Guren's eyes.
Indeed, two others had noticed it too:
One, Kenma, whose cat-like pupils caught the faint emotion Guren was trying to hide.
The other, Shoyo Hinata, mentally ranting about Guren:
"Guren is definitely mad!!"
"He lost at the strategic game against Kenma, and now he's flipping the table!!"
Hinata imagined Guren and Kenma in scholarly robes, bowing politely, playing Go elegantly.
Each move measured, occasional tea sips, fans waving gently.
The calm persisted… until Kenma saw through Guren's weak move, executed a counterstrike, and Guren, outmaneuvered in the game, suddenly snapped.
He stood, ripping off his shirt to reveal taut muscles, chest hair, and tattoos, tigers, dragons, all over his back.
With a feral grin, he drew a samurai sword, pressing it against the delicate Kenma's neck, barking:
"Call me big brother!"
"Big brother!"
"Dare to outwit me in strategy again?!"
"I dare not!"
…
Hinata, shaking his head violently, just wanted to erase the image of this chest-haired, tattooed, samurai-wielding Guren from his mind.
He barely noticed his celebrating teammates, only thinking of banishing this terrifying apparition.
"SLAP"
A hand rested on Hinata's shoulder from behind.
Guren's voice came from the back.
"Hey, Shoyo."
Hinata jumped, curling in on himself, eyes closed, flailing wildly at the net like Guren was actually going to attack him.
"Don't… don't kill me!"
"What nonsense are you saying?"
Guren, the slick-backed version, impatiently scolded him.
"Ah?"
The imagined bandit-Guren vanished.
Hinata realized it was just a fantasy, not real.
Quickly, he smiled apologetically at Guren.
"Oh… um, what's up, Big Brother Guren?"
Guren glanced at the silly boy and said simply:
"That call just now was good."
"Yay!"
Hinata straightened, chest out, as if a soldier receiving a commendation.
But Guren immediately added:
"Don't call out next time."
"I'm not your Zanpakuto, monkey."
"YAAAY!!!!"
Sweating profusely, Hinata snapped to attention, responding with absolute obedience.
Guren finally assessed the nervous, sweating Hinata and let him be.
"Well done. Keep it up. Go back and practice your arm swing speed, the faster you hit, the better you'll coordinate with Kageyama's super-fast attacks."
Guren walked calmly back to the bench, awaiting Ukai's post-match talk.
Hinata, having received guidance from the "Great Demon King," lit up like he'd just found treasure, smiling as he followed Guren.
Meanwhile, after both coaches pointed out weaknesses, Hinata ran ahead in small steps to Nekoma's side:
"Can we play another set?"
"Let's play one more, coach."
Even normally unmotivated Kenma now requested another set.
His expression wasn't about power or spirit, but something else entirely:
"I won't accept this, I won't be satisfied, and I will never lose."
A high-level player's refusal to back down.
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Completed version available on Patreon.com/Veltoria