The Curved Spike?

"What a sly old fox. You really know how to make my life difficult, huh?"

Shimokawa Mitsuwata clicked his tongue softly as he looked at the grinning head coach of Yamarashi Technical across the court. "But... if you think you can take me down that easily, then you've underestimated me."

The volleyball match was heating up.

Although Yamarashi Technical lacked top-tier players, every member was highly competent. While they couldn't serve with the same raw power as Akashi Asuka or Tobio Kageyama, each one could consistently deliver medium-speed, pinpoint serves.

They had locked onto Ryuhei Sanashita as their target. But Sengoku couldn't always step in to take the serve for him, if they abandoned their designated defensive zones too recklessly, it could disrupt their entire formation.

And that might be exactly what the opponent was hoping for.

The two teams exchanged blow after blow.

Before long, the score had pushed past 20.

20–21.

Yamarashi Technical was in the lead.

Still targeting Ryuhei Sanashita, Yamarashi served again. Perhaps nerves were starting to set in as they neared set point, Neko Kurata, seemingly flustered, rushed out at the last second and intercepted the serve that had clearly been meant for Sanashita.

The result was disastrous.

Not only was the first touch poorly executed, but the ball also veered completely out of Sanashita's range to make the second pass.

"Damn!"

The Sengoku players' faces fell instantly.

This kind of first touch was the hardest to handle, it was too low, and way off-target for the primary setter. In that kind of situation, the rest of the team had no choice but to make an awkward emergency save.

But those kinds of saves rarely lead to effective attacks, there's no control over height, angle, or timing.

Oda Miki, forced into a temporary setter role, wore a troubled expression as her mind raced for a solution… but she couldn't come up with anything solid.

Just then, 

A calm voice rose from the front row.

"Give me a high ball."

"I'm counting on you, Asuka."

Recognizing that it was Akashi Asuka who had spoken, Oda Miki didn't hesitate. She set the ball high in the air toward him.

It was far from perfect.

The height was passable, but the position, angle, and timing were all flawed.

"Block him!"

Akashi hadn't even reached his hitting spot yet, but Yamarashi's triple block had already gone up in front of him. All three blockers leapt in unison, cutting off both the straight and cross-court paths. It was a textbook-perfect block formation.

A direct spike would almost certainly be shut down.

The threat was obvious, anyone with a bit of volleyball knowledge could see that.

In midair, Akashi Asuka's eyes took in the six outstretched arms that blocked the lights above. But oddly, his mind slowed down. His thoughts were crystal clear. His emotions stilled like a pool of still water.

Even though he was airborne for only a moment, in that brief instant, he could clearly see the height of the blockers' hands, the look on their faces, and the positioning and movement of the defenders behind them.

Then he found it.

A sliver of space. Not quite a flaw, but a thread of opportunity.

Bam!

In the next instant, 

Akashi's arm swung with explosive force. Backed by over 80 points of arm strength and a core nearing that same threshold, the impact of his palm on the ball seemed to squeeze and deform the very shape of the sphere.

The moment his hand met the ball, it seemed to freeze midair for a fraction of a second, then whoosh! it rocketed forward at a speed almost too fast for the naked eye to track.

The ball sliced past the blockers at an impossible angle, brushing the sideline as it hit the floor.

When the ball landed, the three Yamarashi blockers in front of Akashi were still frozen in place. It was as if they hadn't even realized he had spiked.

Tweet!

The referee's whistle blew.

Both teams held their breath and looked to the line judge. Only when the flag was thrust sharply toward the floor did the Sengoku players erupt in cheers.

"No way, how did he even land that?!"

While Sengoku was celebrating, the players from Yamarashi Technical looked completely shaken.

Especially the blockers, who now looked at Akashi Asuka like he wasn't even human.

"A monster?"

"Hey, did that ball just curve in the air?"

"He scored with that kind of set?"

Yamarashi's morale was starting to crack.

Even their coach on the sidelines remained silent this time, clearly still stunned by what had just happened.

After a long pause, the Yamarashi coach finally gave a wry chuckle. "He really is a monster."

From his angle at the back of the court, he'd seen the whole thing more clearly than anyone else. Their triple block had been virtually perfect.

Under normal circumstances, that spike would have had no angle, both the cross and straight paths had been sealed off.

But Akashi Asuka had somehow twisted his body midair and found a way to hit the ball at a sharp, curved angle around the block. It was a shot no conventional playbook could explain.

21–21.

The score was tied once again.

With that point, Sengoku regained serve, and as the rotation shifted, Akashi Asuka moved back to the No. 1 position.

"One serve and he's out of the attack." the Yamarashi players told themselves, regaining their focus.

Because although Akashi's serve was devastating, it also meant he'd be rotating to the back row, where, without Ryuhei Sanashita to feed him the ball, he'd have almost no role in the offense.

If Yamarashi could survive this service turn, their chance would come again.

There was nothing wrong with their logic.

Unfortunately for them, anything they could predict, Shimokawa Mitsuwata could too. Just as Akashi prepared to serve, the coach made a surprise substitution, 

Nishimori Tomohiko came in for Oda Miki.

The switch clearly confused the Yamarashi players, after all, they didn't know much about Nishimori.

But among the Sengoku squad, a few players began to guess what the coach was planning.

Nishimori jogged onto the court, greeting each teammate with a smile before bouncing excitedly up to Akashi Asuka.

"Akashi-senpai, I promise I'll give you the best set possible!"

Akashi didn't respond, his eyes half-closed, not out of arrogance, but because he was still lost in the mental state he'd just experienced. His focus was locked entirely on the court, on the ball, on himself.

From the side, Ryuhei Sanashita shot Nishimori a sideways glance.

"The best set, huh? You're fired up, rookie."