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Team A – A for Aces and Holes
Tendou doesn’t even know where to start with this team. It’s kind of, well well. Perhaps he could start with how excited Wakatoshi was for the game. His face didn’t look any different from normal, but there was a light spring to his movements that only someone who watched him as obsessively hard as Tendou would notice. He had no doubt at all that the sole reason for that was Oikawa Tooru – finally, in the flesh, on Wakatoshi’s side of the net! Impressively, his boy hadn’t yet attempted to say anything to Oikawa; rather than because Oikawa’s body language is screaming to “Stay The Fuck Away”, Tendou believes it’s actually nerves. Like a first-crush’s nerves.
And that Oikawa had such huge and unfriendly eyes – “To think that Wakatoshi-kun likes these types,” he cooed, as loud and melodious as an ambulance siren.
“Hush, Tendou,” Wakatoshi replies, which causes the top and bottom rows of Tendou’s teeth to align in pure delight. His boy is head over heels, and he’s not even trying to hide it. There’s no way any of their new temporary members, astute fellows they all were, would not interpret this behavior as anything other than pure-hearted fanboying. Or was it more like a freshman’s yearning virgin heart? The other members keep giving him curious stares – if Wakatoshi would only turn his head he would see them. But at the expense of taking his gaze off Oikawa’s cold, unrelenting back? Not a chance in hell.
'Course, Oikawa Tooru’s still pretending to be blind and deaf – playing so hard to get. Maybe he’s the type that wants others to want him on principle, like reverse attention-sucking. Or maybe he just really hates Wakatoshi. Tendou had to admit there was a certain air about Oikawa that was magnetic. His self-assured level was nothing short of 200%, and while they’d faced off in the past, being in close proximity to him and on the same team was a completely different experience entirely. Like his captain, Tendou finds himself also staring at Oikawa more than he did the other players. To his minor amusement, he doesn’t detect a single hint of hostility when Oikawa throws him a look of his own. Off the court earlier, they’d even managed to shake hands and have a cordial introduction – might Wakatoshi-kun be jealous, then? Poor baby.
“Looking forward to crushing your home ace next to you,” he grins widely, beaming his own brand of 200% right back at him with every single tooth on display. “We’re gonna eat him alive.’
Oikawa Tooru’s pretty doe eyes burn with the exact same maniacal intensity in Tendou Satori’s glowing ones. It gives Yaku déjà vu because it’s the exact sort of aura that surrounded people like Kageyama Tobio and Bokuto Koutarou. He couldn’t wait to play a proper match alongside these two, though with teammates this (fucking) tall he expects that there would be more spectacular blocks from them as opposed to spectacular saves from him. Still an exciting match to look forward to though. And Nishinoya was on the opposite team!
To make things even better it seemed that everyone in general (save Hyakuzawa, the only first-year, poor guy) had a healthy air of professionalism around them – there was barely any sense of pre-game jitters from this team. Especially Oikawa, whose back was being stared through by so many pairs of eyes: Shiratorizawa’s pair of setters, his home teammates, Tendou Satori, Yaku himself, and every last female in the stadium. All the girls. He’s privately glad that Lev and Yamamoto were presently somebody else’s business as he wouldn’t have been able to deal with their pathetic cries of jealousy.
Not that Oikawa looked like he cared. He’s ignoring them all (though the Shiratorizawa guys were really making it a challenge) and seemed only interested in trying to catch the attention of his ace on the opposite side of the court – who was in turn ignoring Oikawa. It’s both sad and funny, especially because Kuroo catches Yaku's eye and waves, and Yaku waves back. Maybe they just don’t get along well, he thinks, but he wasn’t exactly concerned. If Oikawa’s reputation was anything to go by, his setting skills were superior enough that this team should be able to skip bonding and still do well in the match. Not at all how they did things back home, but Yaku was more than willing to extend the good faith.
Contrary to popular opinion, Oikawa’s narcissism was high, but his self-awareness was higher. He’s ready to lose – not the game, obviously, but his mind. Fuck Ushiwaka and fuck his life. There’s only one sane person here and it’s not him: it’s Yaku Morisuke, the libero from Nekoma High. Oikawa’s judging each of his team members – boy is he judging them – and though he hasn’t seen Yaku play, he’s already plenty impressed by the way he could keep that cool with everyone else at least 20 cm taller than him. Even Oikawa’s surprised by their average height; it’s like being surrounded with five Matsukawa’s without any of the mellowness. He wished he could sacrifice some of his new teammates for Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s lame humor right about now, but he doesn’t even believe there's any god out there who would want Ushiwaka as an offering.
For that very reason, Yaku’s the only person Oikawa would voluntarily initiate conversation with on this side of hell. “Tell me about the Tokyo players,” he says brusquely, when Yaku passes him by. Anything at all to take the edge off this horrible, unwelcome, and extremely unfamiliar anxiety. He can’t take Iwa-chan down if his isn’t at his very best. His sudden prompt seems to have surprised the libero, but like all good, no great liberos, the small guy was quick to respond and perfectly thorough in his answer.
“That guy with the gelled bedhead is Kuroo Tetsurou. He’s my team captain and an all-round player, especially good at blocks. He’s adaptable, prone to tricks and can be difficult to predict, but that depends on how much Kageyama Tobio can bring out in him. Because of Kuroo’s experience and personality, I think we’ll see surprisingly good teamwork from the two of them. That salt-and-pepper one is Bokuto Koutarou. He’s infamous for being emotionally volatile. If we’re lucky he’ll sink into one of his moods and become their weak link, but if he doesn’t we’re in trouble, ‘cos he’s one of the top aces in the country. He’s unpredictable and powerful, but because he’s got a one-track mind, I’m thinking there’s a chance that him and Kageyama would also really hit things off, so we should watch out for that as well.”
Oikawa considers the information. “So we should go for this Bokuto first? Corner and make him snap?”
Yaku shrugs. “And Hinata Shouyou too, I’ll say. Kageyama will be distracted by the new players and will likely have less attention to spare on him. Unless you’ll like to offer up your teammate?”
“No,” Oikawa says immediately (and not at all defensively). Why was everybody raring to go at Iwaizumi? “Don’t underestimate Iwa-chan. He’s a stable all-round player and he’s already made a mark out of me, so we should be wary of him.”
“What’s his playing style?”
“Sharp,” Oikawa surmises. “Never falters, and his presence is as strong as a captain’s. I’m his setter and I bring out the best in him, but Kageyama’s-“ There’s a glob of saliva in the back of his throat, and he has to pause, swallow, and try again. “Kageyama’s his-“ The same problem again, he pauses, feeling the thing one felt before one was about to have a really big cry. “He’s my-“ He can’t do this – he needs another goddamn pause again. Yaku looks bewildered and concerned, frowning and moving his hand closer and closer to Oikawa’s right arm– No! He’s better than this! He’s not going to cry!– “Protégé,” he finally chokes out. His face feels like it’s on fire.
“I’m so sorry I asked,” Yaku offers, patting his arm with a look of pity.
Oikawa starts to cry.
Asahi thought he was keeping his composure pretty well – as much as he was constantly turning his head to catch the reassuring glances of Kiyoko and Coach Ukai (and avoiding the demented expression on Suga’s) in the crowd – until he saw Oikawa Tooru start to cry in the middle of the court.
Naturally he didn’t believe what he saw and rubbed his eyes about for a good half a minute before confirming, grimly, that he wasn’t seeing it wrong – Oikawa Tooru was indeed crying. Which could only be further proof as to what a horrendous mess this whole situation was – why else would the legendary dude who mentored and intimidated Kageyama have a mental breakdown in the last fifteen minutes before a match?
Asahi immediately starting chewing on his nails. He swung around, looking at the rest of the team for their reactions. Wasn’t there a first-year alongside the rest of them? He’d been tall, quiet, but wherever had he gone? Tendou’s face was frozen in surprise – or maybe that look of wide-eyed astonishment was just a permanent thing for that guy. Ushijima muscled his way through all of them silent mules. “Oikawa-kun,” he boomed, in a voice that reverberated across the entire floor. “What’s the matter?”
Oikawa’s wiping his sleeves across his eyes. Gosh, it was like looking at a kicked puppy – Asahi’s heart squeezed in sympathy. He patted his pockets for the handkerchief he always had on hand and was the next to rush over, offering wordless comfort. Oikawa took it and blew his nose like a trumpet. “I just want to win. Please leave me alone,” he said, no, cried, and even though Asahi wasn’t fully clear where they all stood in this team dynamic, he knew that statement couldn’t have been meant for anyone more than it did to Ushijima-kun.
“Alright boys, let’s back off and give him some breathing room. God, you’re all so tall.” Yaku-san orders, with an air that was clearly indicative of one of those types that was used to commanding respect and deferment where he was due. But Ushijima seemed not to have heard him; like Yaku-san were unable to reach his incredible height and stature. Oh dear god, Asahi starts to think, as his mind unravelled down a rabbit hole of anxiety.
“If you would just talk to me,” Ushijima says pointedly to Oikawa – yes it was a little blunt, but there was no denying that his patience had run rather short at this point in time. “I’m certain that we can come to an understanding.”
He feels a small tap in the middle of his chest. He looks down and sees the mouse-sized libero from Tokyo’s Nekoma High School holding a palm out at him. “He needs breathing room. Everyone, back off, please!”
Unfortunately, Ushijima could not deny the wisdom in little Yaku Morisuke’s words. “I just want to befriend him” he says, the sentiment slipping out as his frustration mounted. “I don’t understand why this has to be so convoluted.”
“Aww, big guy,” Yaku pats his elbow, slowly herding him away from Oikawa. “Setters are a delicate sort, aren’t they? We’ll all be better for it if we could just respect their boundaries and let them have their way with us.”
“Oikawa’s way doesn’t include me in it,” he says dejectededly. That came out moody. It came out moody because it was true, and he knows it. “I don’t think he likes me.”
“I’m sure that’s not the case,” Yaku replies. But how little he knew.
“Things like that have never bothered me all that much,” Ushijima laments. His first love is and will always be volleyball. Friendship… that was an odd beast. He never understood it, never questioned why people would be drawn to him, or why they decided to hang around. He appreciated their company, for sure. But to actively pursue someone else… That’s something he’s not used to doing, and maybe that’s precisely why it’s giving both him and Oikawa so much grief at this moment.
“Don’t worry about it,” Yaku reassures. “Really! I’m sure this minor hiccup is something that us top-notch high-school athletes can keep off the courts, am I right?”
Ushijima accepts his reassurance – there was little else he could do, as the rest of the team not-at-all-subtly arranged themselves into a wall, completely blocking Oikawa from his line of vision. “What is the source of your good faith?” he queries, honestly curious. An ace spiker that cannot connect with the team setter brings as much value to a race car as a punctured tire.
“It’s an All-Star game between a bunch of high schools,” Yaku laughs, not unkindly. “Aren’t we all here to make friends and have some real fun?”
Team B – B for Bro, Do You Even
“Alright people! Even though this is a temporary team, I think it’s prudent for us to elect a captain,” Daichi gathers the other six in a circle, commanding attention. “We need someone for morale when it comes to the crunch,” – he looks meaningfully to his first years – “So I’ll like to nominate myself to take up that role for all of us. What do you guys say?”
“I nominate myself too,” Kuroo Tetsurou, that ever-annoying flea bug, tacks himself onto Daichi’s statement. If it was any other person Daichi would have been more polite, but as it’s him, Daichi outright rolls his eyes.
“Oh yeah, and me three!”
Could Kuroo Tetsurou be any more predictable? Daichi turns to look at him dead-on. “You can’t be serious.”
Kuroo folds his arms. He looked serious enough, but there was also a glint of no-good mischief in his eyes. “I can bring a spirt-lifting pre-game chant to the table, what do you have?”
“Hey! Me too, I’m also a captain-“
“Control our freak-combo first years, for one. They won’t be our team’s trump card if we don’t utilize them properly, you understand.”
“And you think you’re up for that? I actually train first years, isn’t that more than you’ve ever done?”
“I’m one of the top aces in Japan!”
“We need to listen to the other’s opinions,” Daichi says, switching tracks. “Have your say, you guys.”
“You can’t seriously think I’m gonna accept a democratic vote here given that half of this team is from your home team?” Kuroo protests incredulously. Daichi hates his goddamned unsolicited opinion, not only because Kuroo’s being a whiny little bitch, but also because it’s definitely the source of all that Tsukishima sass he’s been seeing back in Karasuno. All of Daichi’s headaches stemmed from one source – one – and it was this walking and talking major pain in the butt.
“Challenging the basis of democracy only when things aren’t going your way? Of course those are the traits people want in a leader,” He refutes smartly, folding his own arms and cocking a look like, come on.
“Hey why are two of you ignoring me?!”
Daichi turns to the three Karasuno members with a stern look. “Say something,” he orders.
“Never count the libero,” Nishinoya speaks first, pointing two finger guns with a bashful half-grin. At Daichi’s blackening expression he quickly changes both to open palms and raises them far above his head. “Come on, Daichi-san – I can’t even run for captaincy! Spare me!”
Daichi’s gaze bores into Hinata and Kageyama and he implores. Hinata stops fidgeting and not at all subtly digs his elbow into Kageyama’s side.
“Ow, you little- Uh…”
Iwaizumi hadn’t really wanted to acknowledge Oikawa’s numerous and desperate attempts at eye contact. They were all in their respective school jerseys, and he didn’t want to be anymore associated with a person as red and unhinged as that. Like a fish out of water, Oikawa’s just not going to adapt to Ushiwaka fast enough to win him this game – petty, interpersonal hatred has always been his one big flaw. And right now Oikawa’s sending him a truly awful, deranged version of his usual tongue and wink look, with about a thousand-fold magnified intensity (and pure despair) in his eyes. Iwaizumi snorts in good riddance and turns his nose the other way. He’s big enough of a man to admit (in the privacy of his own mind) that he’s pleased by how much more Oikawa clearly needed him than the other way round.
“Oikawa’s ripe,” he declares. A mentally incapacitated setter is the worst block to any team. Their side is going to win this game so fast he doesn't even need to imagine what Oikawa’s face would look like as he’ll be seeing it soon enough. “Let’s get going. This game is ours!”
Aware that he’s abruptly drawn the rest of his teammates’ attention onto himself, Iwaizumi elaborates. “Look at him,” he explains, feeling another thrill of electricity – here comes his chance to serve a ball into that annoying fucker’s face “on accident”, fucking payback time – “He’s unhinged. Probably not going to make it through the first match. We’ll play a good one and finish the game in two rounds. While he’s like this we’re definitely going to be able to shut off a good number of his spikers, no matter if it’s one or five Ushiwaka’s.”
He sees nods of agreement from the other members when suddenly in a clear, anxious voice, Kageyama shouts, “I pick Iwaizumi-san!”
Ever since Kageyama got served the letter about this once-off all-star inter-team mash-up play, he’s had this weird, niggling feeling in his... spirit, or something. For someone who was neither superstitious nor religious, he didn’t know how else to put it. It was like he had a feeling of almost – but not quite - constipation. He must have gone to the toilet a gazillion times in an attempt to clear his system. His intestines were squeaking in protest at this point, but still the feeling remained.
He showed up on court in full jersey and everything, watched without comment as Oikawa navigated an elaborate snake path to avoid making eye contact with both him and Ushiwaka, and then walked over to his new, temporary teammates, where the ominous feeling magnified.
It was starting to make him feel real irritated.
Then his teammates opened their mouths to speak – namely Daichi-san and Kuroo-san from Nekoma – and that was when he realized why.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was about to be crushed by the egos of four big alpha-captains in the space of half a court today.
Kageyama? Tobio? Brought down by pressure? Impossible. But nevertheless he cracked his knuckles and aggressively massaged his neck and shoulders over and over again. Over at the stands Tsukishima keeps beaming at him, an unnecessary, unwanted glint in his shitty glasses as he smirked and smirked at whatever it was about Kageyama that was tickling his funny bone today. As the ball of tension passes from Daichi-san to Kuroo-san to Bokuto-san and Iwaizumi-san and Noya-san and so on and so forth, Kageyama could actively feel a part of his brain shutting down. Could feel it, but couldn’t do anything about it.
“Iwaizumi-san” is the first thing he thinks of saying, when the ball gets sent his way. He hadn’t really been listening, but he knew, from all the testosterone in the air, that it could only be about one thing. “I pick Iwaizumi-san!”
The half-constipated feeling still doesn't go away, but in that moment, when he locked eyes with his old senpai, Kageyama felt the skies clear for the light of hope to reach him for the first time this miserable morning.
God, what a move. Only Kageyama would have the balls to do something like that. Hinata makes a face, disgusted at Kageyama’s thin loyalty but also impressed by his bravery and lucky guess (that had to be a lucky guess. There’s no way Kageyama thought this one through). It’s quite a good third – uh, fourth – option to what had otherwise been an impossible question. “I second him!” He chirps. He tries to link arms with Kageyama to show their solidarity, but Kageyama’s nothing if not fussy and stubbornly sticks his arms to his sides. What a dumb piece of- Hinata stomps his toes again as he seethes internally. Kageyama growls, but you know what? Hinata couldn’t give less of a damn, not when he’s getting blasted not by one, two, but three killer stares. Two of them were ordinary captain glares, but the third one’s full-on brimming with hurt. “Hinata?” Bokuto’s voice wobbles. Hinata gulps… But then his other favorite senpai Nishinoya-san starts to clap. Saved by this magnificent guardian angel, Hinata, too, starts to clap.
“Pick me for what?” Iwaizumi-san’s question demanded attention. Nishinoya stopped his applause, and so did Hinata, quickly. The silence in the air was now stiff and awkward, with Daichi-san and Kuroo-san doing some kind of invisible, silent but charged communication with their eyes, and a ruthlessly ignored Bokuto-san close to point-blank weeping. Hinata couldn't even look in his direction, so he nudges Kageyama to say something, anything, again. He’s got it good, being impervious to all that that intensity sparking between the third-years. But for people like Hinata, who actually have the ability to read atmospheric tension? Not a chance, he’ll be eaten alive.
“Iwaizumi-san,” Kageyama goes, with a hundred percent sincerity. “Congratulations on the temporary captainship.”
If Hinata had any less tact, he would be choking on his saliva and howling from the absolute genius of Kageyama’s course of action. As things were the only thing he could do was bite down the insides of his mouth and suck his tears back into his eyes. Kageyama had grabbed Iwaizumi’s hand and was shaking it profusely. Iwaizumi-san is frowning. Hinata lines up next to Kageyama and grabs onto his hands next, shaking it with all the energy in his body. What manly hands! Thick and calloused after years of athleticism – a state that Hinata’s own hands could only aspire to. Nishionya-san is right behind him. “May the best man lead our team to victory!” he roars. It is an inspiring shout, and it breaks that intense alpha-posturing tension in the air, finally, and suddenly there’s sufficient oxygen rushing back into Hinata’s lungs for him to breathe as normal.
“If that’s what you all want,” Bokuto-san mutters, his voice much thinner and several shades less confident than usual. It sends chills down to Hinata’s core. Oh no, what have they done?
Kuroo might have never heard of this guy, but even he knew that ‘Iwaizumi Hajime’ is the only real answer for the situation. He had the grounded, reliable aura of any good captain, a little bit on the short side – still taller than Sawamura though – but packing in musculature and poise. Kuroo could work with that. But before that he had to take his hat off to Kageyama Tobio-kun.
The fact that Kageyama Tobio had been the one to have nominated Iwaizumi-kun, as opposed to Hinata, that ingenious little devil? Or Nishinoya, that unshakable guardian deity? The Kageyama, whose level of density practically ensured he would never be able to float in any body of water? Kuroo’s so impressed, he might just have to re-evaluate his perception of that kid after all. Was he always this crafty? Or did he just get lucky from pulling the first thing out of his ass? Kuroo’s pretty ready to acknowledge Captain Iwaizumi – the fact that their team had still yet to settle down and was without a game plan was actually making him pretty antsy – but there was still hurdle that their team had to get through, collectively, before he could spare even a single braincell on strategy.
“Guess I’m just not… good enough, huh?”
Poor Bo, but Kuroo couldn’t focus on him right now. He needed to reach an understanding with Sawamura. They absolutely had to be on the same page on this matter. Nekoma’s reputation was resting entirely on his shoulders and he wasn’t about to let his coach nor home team down.
His rival Sawamura’s got his eyes narrowed into such silts, he could give that slithering snake Suguru a run for his money; not to mention that this really isn’t a look suited to a face as mediocre as Sawamura’s. But Kuroo was only going to step back at the same time as Daichi. Not a moment too fast or too late. They had to accept Iwaizumi’s captainship simultaneously, or there would be hell to pay. He zeroes in on the tension in Sawamura’s neck and shoulders, the miniscule twitch of his forehead and lower jaw muscles. He takes a short, deep breath, and Kuroo could feel that he was about to say something. He takes a breath himself. “May the best man…” Sawamura starts. “Lead us to victory.” Kuroo finishes.
“Shake on it,” Iwaizumi commands, which startles both cat and crow, who’d forgotten that he’d been standing right in the middle of the two of them. He’s holding both hands out in front of the two of them. Still eerily in sync, they each grab his hand at the same time and give him a firm politician’s squeeze.
Iwaizumi chuckles but doesn’t flinch. “Alright boys. My first act as captain – whose friend is that, and what’s wrong with him?”
Bokuto knew that they were all trying to get through to him.
Kuroo is first to do so, looping his arms around Bokuto's sad, sloped shoulders and waving his hand enthusiastically. He's not sure what Kuroo is saying. To be awfully honest, ever since the joust for the captaincy, Bokuto's stopped listening to every single god-damned word that all these guys were saying. And so though Kuroo was obviously trying to paint a picture with all his words and gesturing, Bokuto couldn't find space in his heart to let his best friend in, not even by a little.
Sawamura goes next. He's a lot less naunced than Kuroo, and only knows Bokuto half as well. But kudoes to him for trying? Akaashi is always giving Bokuto kudoes for trying. Somewhere, somehow, maybe Bokuto would find it in him to repay Sawamura for this bout of kindness - but not right now.
That Iwaizumi guy comes up to him next. Without mincing anything, Bokuto does actually feel resentment towards him right about now. The way this mere vice-captain effortlessly took the captain's mantle out of all of their noses was something that all three of them real captains should feel shame about. But Kuroo and Sawamura are too busy scheming to remember to feel embarrassed. Guess it's just Bokuto doing enough feeling for everyone then...
That Kageyama kid actually tries to walk over. His shadow lands on Bokuto's feet, but he's quick to turn away. Bokuto doesn't blame him. Who would? Only the captains... God he felt awful.
Hinata gives him a handkerchief and Bokuto blows into it so hard, his favorite kouhai-from-another-mother runs away right after Kageyama-kun. It just makes Bokuto even sadder now. Why did things have to happen like this? Why... Why?
Last of all there's that amazing libero from Karasuno. Haha, him and Komi are li-bros... they always used to joke about that. It used to be funny. This guy's the only other one with as much gung-ho as Kuroo. He's saying something nice, Bokuto's sure. He's always seemed like a nice guy. He's crazy good but a senpai that everyone looks up to for sure. Say... Does anyone remember when Bokuto used to be a senpai others looked up to? Anyone? Anybody?
The match
With both teams packed to the brim with excellent candidates, this seems on first glance like a match primed for fascinating gameplay and mind-blowing success – but you’ll be surprised at how far off the bat one’s initial expectations could get! It seems that the one thing this slapped-together mash-up bout couldn't account for – trust and time – has everyone’s shoelaces tied up in knots! What a horrific disaster!
On the left side court, Team A, with star setter Oikawa Tooru, runs like an engine injected with the disastrously wrong type of fuel! Oikawa flounders for the right time and place for his unusually shaky set-ups, while the other giants on his team play a paradoxical game of keep-away from their lynchpin! Whenever a ball from the other side comes through, a simple jump from any one of these 180 giants is more than enough to bounce those shaky spikes back for a point, which seems like what Date Tech’s Aone has defaulted to doing. When in doubt, stick to your guns – except that there’s not much to defend right now at all, is there, boy? The other aces of their home teams are running concentric circles – truly a directionless herd – and every once in a while you see Shiratorizawa’s Ushijima step within a meter of Oikawa and attempt to start a conversation! Does he think this is a socializing mixer? What arrogance!
And the camera pans over to the right-side court! Team B, with the vicious Karasuno rookie combo and prodigal setter Kageyama Tobio, should have by all accounts seized this golden window to destroy their opponents as their enemy setter flounders; but alas, they have a massive distraction on hand! Lady Luck doesn’t appear to be on their side either, for the volatile, nationally-ranked 4 Bokuto Koutarou appears to have snapped, and looks hell-bent on taking the rest of his team down with him! Meanwhile the Karasuno and Nekoma Captains seem to be more focused in personal tensions rather than on the team! For the remaining clear-headed ones, there’s not enough manpower to full tap into the potential packed into speedy Sonic Hinata Shouyou, meaning the brunt of their offensive strategy – if you can even call it that! – rests on lucky strikes by veteran Iwaizumi Hajime! I don’t know what I’m watching, but between Aone-kun and Iwaizumi-kun’s best efforts, I can tell you this definitely ain’t no volleyball!
Who even came up with the idea for this damn game? Not only is this asking our country’s finest young players to risk both their mental and physical capacities, it’s also pure torture for the only sane ones left on the court, the liberos Nishinoya Yuu and Yaku Morisuke!! Nishinoya-kun is holding up his two hands in surrender!! Yaku-kun has pulled off his jersey and is waving it like a white flag! Somebody save those kids!! Forget the rest of them – those are beyond rescue! Forget it, let's just go!