The Next Challenge (PART -1)

The weight of the last match still lingered in Renji's mind. The team had fought hard, but their loss had been a bitter one. Though they had shown flashes of brilliance, there were still gaps in their performance—gaps that he felt responsible for. Unlike the spikers, who could deliver powerful finishes, or the setter, who orchestrated plays, Renji's role as a libero felt... invisible.

It wasn't that he doubted his skills. He had trained relentlessly, refining his reflexes, improving his dives, and mastering the delicate art of receiving. But every time the team gathered after a match, praise was always heaped upon the attackers or the setter. No one seemed to notice the foundation he laid with his digs and passes.

At least, that's what he believed—until Coach decided it was time for a shift.

A New Responsibility

The next practice session had an unusual intensity. Coach stood in front of the team, clipboard in hand, eyes scanning each player with a sharp gaze.

"We played well in the tournament," Coach began, "but we lost because our defense wasn't stable enough. The libero isn't just another defender. He's the eyes of the court."

Renji's ears perked up.

Coach turned to him. "Renji, from today onward, you're going to take a leadership role during defensive drills. You'll be the one calling shots at the backline, adjusting the positioning of the blockers, and making sure the team's defense is rock solid."

Renji's stomach twisted into a knot. Me? Leading?

Before he could respond, Coach continued. "Being a libero isn't about just making saves. It's about seeing what others can't. The libero dictates the flow of the game." He crossed his arms. "You're not just another player, Renji. You're the foundation of this team's defense."

The words carried weight, but Renji hesitated. Am I really capable of leading?

Doubts and Determination

As practice began, Renji struggled to find his voice. During drills, when the blockers were slightly out of position, he noticed it—but hesitated to call it out. When the backline needed a shift, he adjusted himself but didn't instruct the others.

It didn't go unnoticed.

After the first set of drills, Coach blew his whistle and called Renji over. "You're thinking too much. You see the plays unfolding, but you're holding back."

Renji looked down. "I don't know if they'll listen to me."

Coach's gaze was firm. "Then make them listen. A libero who doesn't speak up is a wasted player."

Renji clenched his fists. He knew Coach was right.

As practice resumed, he took a deep breath. When the next drill started, he forced himself to call out. "Watch the right side! The quick attack is coming!"

The blockers reacted just in time. The opponent's spike hit the net instead of finding an open space.

A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

Encouragement from Asuka

Later that evening, Renji sat alone near the gym entrance, running through the practice session in his mind. He had spoken up, but it still didn't feel natural.

"You did well today," a familiar voice said.

Renji looked up to see Asuka standing nearby, arms crossed, a small smile on her face.

"I don't know," he admitted. "It still feels weird."

She sat down next to him. "You remind me of my brother."

Renji raised an eyebrow. "Your brother?"

She nodded. "He was a setter, but he wasn't the loud, flashy type. He was calm, steady, and always made sure the team worked as a unit. People underestimated him at first, but he became the glue that held the team together."

Renji listened closely.

"Being loud doesn't make you a leader," Asuka continued. "Knowing what your team needs and making sure they get it—that's what matters."

Renji thought back to practice. He had seen the gaps in their defense before anyone else. If he hadn't spoken up, the blockers would've been out of position. Maybe leadership isn't about being the loudest—it's about making sure everyone is in the right place.

Asuka stood up. "Keep going, Renji. You're more important to this team than you think."

Her words stayed with him long after she left.

The First Test

The next day, Coach threw the team into an intense scrimmage. This was Renji's first real test as the defensive leader.

From the start, he paid close attention to every movement. The setter's habits, the spikers' angles, the blockers' reactions—he absorbed it all.

When the opponent's outside hitter shifted slightly inward, Renji reacted immediately. "Left side cover! Blockers, shift two steps in!"

They followed his call. The attacker's spike was blocked cleanly.

Point won.

As the game progressed, Renji found his rhythm. He wasn't just reacting anymore—he was anticipating. He saw the setter's movements and called out shifts before the attack even came. The team began relying on his voice, adjusting their positions naturally.

For the first time, he truly felt like he was leading.

When the scrimmage ended, Coach nodded in approval. "That's more like it."

Renji exhaled, a slow smile forming. Maybe his role wasn't as invisible as he once thought.

A New Beginning

That evening, as he walked home, he reflected on how much had changed. He still had doubts, but now he had a clearer vision of his purpose.

The libero wasn't just a defender. He was the heartbeat of the team's defense. The one who saw everything.

And now, he was ready to embrace that role fully.

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End of Chapter 12

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To Be Continue