Final Stand

The match pressed on, the intensity rising with each rally. The score climbed steadily, Seiryuu holding the lead at 19-13, and despite our best efforts, breaking through their defense was becoming harder with every point.

Hinata and I had become the focal points of our offense, with Shigeo trying to incorporate the new quick attack into our plays. It was our best bet—fast, unpredictable, and difficult to read—but executing it under these conditions was proving to be a gamble. Shigeo's sets were sharp, and I pushed my body past its limits to keep up, but my exhaustion was catching up with me. Out of five attempts, I had missed three. The ball either slipped past my fingers or I mistimed my swing entirely. Each failed attempt chipped away at our momentum, and I could see the frustration tightening in Shigeo's expression, his usual confidence flickering.

"Keep sending them my way," I told him, my breath ragged. "Don't stop now."

He hesitated, his grip tightening on his knees as he caught his breath. "You keep missing," he muttered. "I should just—"

"No." I cut him off, stepping forward despite the burn in my legs. "Trust me. Keep going."

Shigeo's eyes flickered with uncertainty, but he gave a short nod. Still, I could tell the failures were getting to him. His hands were steady, but there was hesitation—fractional, but present. And in a game this fast, that moment of doubt was dangerous.

Meanwhile, Seiryuu was adapting. Their blockers had started closing in on Hinata, reading his approach perfectly. At first, he still found gaps, still managed to squeeze the ball past them, but then the wall began to close in. One block. Then another. Then another. Every time he went for the hit, their hands were there, pressing him down, denying him.

I could see it in his eyes—the fire flickering, his usual confidence dimming. The endless energy that drove him forward was slowing. Hinata was second-guessing himself, hesitating mid-air, adjusting too much in fear of being blocked. I clenched my fists. Not now. Don't lose your edge now.

With Hinata shut down, I was forced to cover for him, picking up more and more of the burden. My body was running on fumes, my movements just slightly slower than before. The more I had to chase the ball, the more my vision blurred at the edges.

Seiryuu took advantage. They baited me into impossible receives, making me dive for soft touches that barely skimmed over the net. My legs barely responded when I pushed off the ground, and yet I kept moving. I had to. If I stop now, we lose.

The score climbed to 23-19 for Seiryuu. The crowd murmured in anticipation, sensing our collapse. My teammates were breathing hard, shoulders rising and falling heavily. On the other side of the court, Seiryuu's players grinned. They knew it. We knew it.

They had control of the game. And if we didn't do something soon, we were going to lose it.

It was our serve. Minato stepped up, bouncing the ball in his hands. His grip looked tight—he was nervous. He tossed it up and struck, but the ball clipped the top of the net. A collective gasp rippled through the gym, but instead of falling back onto our side, it barely rolled over and dropped onto Seiryuu's court. Stunned silence filled the air before the referee's whistle cut through it. 23-20.

A stroke of luck.

Minato exhaled, rolling his shoulders before stepping back for his next serve. This time, he struck cleanly, sending it over with more control. Seiryuu's libero barely flinched as he sent a clean receive to their setter. Their attack formed quickly.

I saw it before it happened. Two attackers shifting left, one lingering on the right—obvious. The far left would take the spike.

"Hinata! Daiki! Move left!" I barked, forcing my legs to stay grounded. My voice cut through the tension, and they reacted instantly, shifting into place. The ball soared toward the expected attacker, and the block connected, shutting him down. 23-21.

Another chance.

Minato served again, this time with confidence. The ball sailed over, but Seiryuu's libero was waiting, absorbing the impact and sending a crisp pass straight to their setter. My head pulsed as I tried to process the play. My vision blurred slightly, my mind struggling to keep up. Middle. They're going for the middle.

Shigeo saw it too and moved. He couldn't jump effectively anymore, but he stepped into position, ready to cover. But this time, I didn't say a word. The commands didn't come.

Hinata and Daiki moved a step too late.

The spike blasted past them, slamming into the court before I could even react. The whistle blew. 24-21. Match point.

I barely registered it as my grip tightened on my knees. My breath was ragged, my chest rising and falling in uneven gasps, and for a second, the world around me faded into muffled voices. The gym blurred, the sounds distant, like I was hearing them through water. My vision swam, dark spots creeping at the edges as exhaustion sank deep into my bones, threatening to pull me down with it. But the physical strain was nothing compared to the mental toll. Every play I read, every command I gave, every calculation running through my head—it all felt like a storm crashing against my skull, an unrelenting pressure threatening to crack me open. My mind was running on fumes, burning at both ends, yet I couldn't afford to slow down.

I forced myself to focus. My arms felt like lead, my legs like stone, but I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my palms, forcing myself to hold on. Not now. Not yet. I had come too far, pushed too hard to let everything crumble here. The exhaustion was screaming at me, my body was shutting down, my mind was fraying at the edges—but that didn't matter. I wasn't done. We weren't done. I had promised to lead them, to be the one standing tall no matter what. If I showed weakness now, it would seep into them, infect them like a virus. No. Not yet. Not ever.

Then—

"Keiji."

Shigeo's voice cut through the fog, sharp with concern. My head snapped up, and I saw his gaze locked onto me. "Can you keep going?"

I forced a grin, wiping the sweat from my brow. "Yeah. This is nothing. I can easily go on for three more sets."

Shigeo didn't buy it. His voice lacked its usual sarcasm, his expression tight with concern. "Don't overdo it."

I let my head drop for a moment, my vision swimming as I fought to steady my breath. My chest ached—not just from exhaustion, but from something deeper, something gnawing at me. How pathetic. I had told them to believe, to fight until the end, and now I was the one barely standing. The weight of my own words pressed down on me, heavier than the fatigue in my limbs. My fingers curled into my palms, nails digging into skin. Not now. Not yet.

I forced myself up. I had to. Not for myself. But for them.

I looked around at my teammates. The first-years were on edge, their eyes glued to the floor, their shoulders stiff as if weighed down by the moment. Riku's fingers clenched and unclenched at his sides, Minato shifted on his feet, his lips pressed into a thin line. Daiki stared at the court, jaw set, frustration evident in every muscle.

Hinata—his usual fire, the boundless energy that defined him—was dimming. His shoulders hunched slightly, his fingers twitching as though unsure whether to clench into fists or remain slack. Hesitation flickered in his expression, the raw confidence that once fueled his jumps faltering under the pressure.

And Shigeo… Shigeo was watching me, but his eyes weren't filled with his usual indifference. There was something else there—something rare. Concern. Expectation. He wasn't just waiting for the next play; he was waiting for me. Waiting to see if I could still stand, still lead them forward.

I sucked in a breath, pushing aside the weight pressing on my chest. If I fell apart now, then so would they.

"Hey," I said, my voice cutting through the noise.

The attention fell to me.

"What are you guys doing?" I demanded, standing straighter despite the weight in my limbs. "In volleyball, you have to look up. You can't win if your eyes are on the ground. You can't fight if you've already decided you've lost."

Silence.

I clenched my fists. My voice rose. "We haven't lost yet, have we?!"

Hinata flinched, lifting his head. "No…"

"What was that?" I snapped. "I can't hear you. If you're going to give up, do it somewhere else. But if you want to win—then say it like you mean it!"

Hinata's eyes burned. "No!" he shouted.

I looked at the others. Minato exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the weight of exhaustion. Riku's hands clenched into fists, his knuckles whitening, frustration turning into something sharper—determination. Daiki's jaw tightened, his eyes locking onto mine with renewed focus.

Then, Shigeo let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head slightly. His voice, low but steady, cut through the charged air. "Tch. Fine, then," he muttered before lifting his eyes to meet mine. "Lead us, Captain."

Seiryuu heard it. The shift in energy was undeniable. The fire in our eyes, the way our stances straightened, the way our presence on the court no longer felt like a team on the verge of collapse—it all registered in their expressions. A flicker of hesitation crossed their faces, a subtle but telling pause. Their confidence wavered, their grins faltered. They had felt in control, but now, they weren't so sure. The pressure they had piled onto us had not crushed us—it had reignited something dangerous.

One by one, their players adjusted their positions, their movements no longer filled with the same certainty. Their setter glanced back at his teammates, seeking reassurance. Their libero flexed his fingers, shaking out tension that hadn't been there before. Their ace rolled his shoulders, his lips pressing into a thin line. They were reacting. They were preparing. They knew this wasn't the same Yukigaoka team they had been dominating moments ago.

The match wasn't over. And now, they knew it too.

The tension in the gym shifted. The crowd murmured, sensing it too. The match wasn't over yet.

Then came the whistle. Seiryuu's serve.

I inhaled deeply, steadying myself. Encore starts now.

[Author's Note: Didn't mean to drag this out too long—totally forgot there was a second set 😅. Was only gonna do one or two chapters for it, but I got carried away… Also, I made a new cover! Let me know what you think.

Writing is tough, and every bit of support helps. If you enjoyed this, please drop some votes, reviews, or stones to keep me going!]