Haikyuu: Nah, I'd Adapt!

"Hmm, his receive is not as good as his spike for sure..."

Mizoguchi quietly analyzed Tsuna's reception from the side.

He could see that Tsuna was terrible at it, despite his monstrous spike and serve a year ago. Considering the fact that he was unable to use his right hand anymore—or at least not properly—Karasuno's #9 had become considerably weaker than before.

"I think this is quite good information to have before going to the Interhigh this season..."

Mizoguchi chuckled, thinking it was great news that the threat of Karasuno didn't seem as impressive as it was before.

Then he turned toward Irihata and blinked, "Head Coach?"

"...!"

Irihata, who had been sitting down the whole game, was now standing with sweat rolling down his forehead as he watched the game.

Mizoguchi furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and asked, "Head Coach, umm... is there anything I missed?"

"Ah, right... that's good information to have... but..."

Irihata seemed to snap out of his shock as he blinked, then shook his head. He crossed his arms, thinking deeply, and added, "...but we also have to consider another point."

"Another point...?"

"Yes..."

Irihata glanced at Tsuna on the court. He had watched the Karasuno player fail over and over again to receive Oikawa's serve.

Most players would have broken by now. Despair would've sunk in, frustration taking hold, and any other team would've adjusted their formation, placing someone more skilled at receiving to cover a wider zone.

But Karasuno didn't.

Irihata understood why, but it didn't make it any easier to watch. A mix of emotions churned in his chest—regret that a player like Tsuna wasn't on their team, and fear because Tsuna was the opponent.

With a deep sigh, Irihata muttered, "...time works differently for the talented."

"Yes?"

Mizoguchi didn't seem to quite understand what Irihata meant.

However, Irihata didn't elaborate as he glanced at his players on the court. He could tell that none of them had felt it directly.

'This monster...'

Irihata's hand tightened into a fist at his side.

With each failed attempt, Tsuna literally grew. Most players would crumble under the weight of failure, but not him.

Oikawa's deadly serve was not breaking him—it was refining him.

Mastering the art of receiving in a single game was impossible for anyone. Even just adapting to a certain serve or spike without getting the foundation right was nigh impossible.

Or at least, it should have been.

'This is ridiculous...'

The thought sent a shiver down his spine. No, Tsuna wasn't "mastering" receiving. That would take time.

But adapting?

Adapting to Oikawa's serve, specifically?

That, he was doing.

Looking at that feral expression, which was almost unsightly, Irihata couldn't help but shudder. '...and he's totally immersed in the game.'

It was a terrifying sight to behold when such a player was a potential opponent.

Players like that were so rare it felt like they belonged to myths. But when they appeared, the game—no, the era—would belong to them.

That was Irihata's opinion of this oddball named Tsunayoshi Matsumoto.

Time certainly worked differently for the talented.

The others in Aoba Johsai wouldn't understand. Watching Tsuna fail repeatedly might even feel like reassurance to them—a sign that the monster was gone, that he was just another player on the court.

It might even seem like a good thing.

Sometimes, ignorance really was bliss.

But Irihata knew better.

'Oikawa... once again, you're the one carrying the weight for the team...'

His eyes shifted to Oikawa, standing behind the back line, the volleyball gripped tightly in his hands. A deep sigh escaped Irihata as he watched sweat roll down Oikawa's chin, dripping onto the court.

He could tell from the sweat rolling down his chin and his mortified expression as he held the ball behind the back line.

Others might not see it, but Oikawa, who directly interacted with the monster, certainly felt it vividly!

'You... monster!'

Oikawa quietly screamed as he saw that unbridled gaze, full of excitement, locked onto him.

His hands trembled slightly as his grip on the ball tightened.

He could feel it, in every fiber of his being as his legs almost gave up. His instincts screamed at him to run.

But there was no escape.

That gaze.

He was going to be devoured!

The feeling crept through his body. The swirling emotions overwhelmed him, clouding his thoughts with dread.

Oikawa was familiar with this sensation. He'd felt it before. It was the same feeling that haunted him in every nightmare about their crushing defeat a year ago.

He felt scared!

Whistle!

He froze for a moment, his breath caught in his throat. His hands trembled slightly as he gripped the ball.

'...I have to crush him!'

Swallowing hard, he forced himself to push through the fear.

Oikawa tossed the ball high into the air once again, his eyes tracking its arc.

Time seemed to move slowed as the ball floated upward. He stepped forward decisively, yet his thoughts churned. 

'I've always known… I'm not that talented.'

CRACK!

His palm struck the ball with brutal force. The sound reverberated through the gym like a gunshot.

The ball compressed under the impact, almost as if resisting, before rocketing toward the opposite court like a missile.

It tore through the air, the whistle of its speed echoing in the silence.

As Oikawa landed lightly on the floor, he didn't take his eyes off the other side of the net. He saw Tsuna's eyes gleam even more with excitement, which made him grit his teeth.

How could he not see it earlier?

The fact that Tsuna wasn't just enduring his serves—he was evolving with every failed receive.

'What takes the average player years... the talented can master in months.'

Oikawa watched closely, refusing to close his eyes even for a second. He wanted to see it for himself.

At first, the ball shot out of bounds on impact. The second one did too, though it veered closer to the court's edge.

Then came the third, the fourth, the fifth, the sixth, the seventh...

"..."

He saw that grin—the monster's grin—as Tsuna adjusted his stance while cupping his hand with an expression so unsightly it made Oikawa grimace.

Drool glistened at the corner of his mouth as his palm connected with the ball again.

BOOM!

The impact drove Tsuna's arm backward with force, yet this time...

Oikawa's eyes widened.

The ball didn't rocket out of bounds. Instead, it bounced high—so high it nearly touched the gym's ceiling—and spun wildly before landing out of the court.

"...!"

He wanted to scream. His mind roared in disbelief.

It was his strongest serve in this game!

"That ball..."

All eyes followed the ball as it flew high into the air, their disbelief palpable.

For a moment, silence gripped the court.

Then—

"Come forward, first years!"

Aoba Johsai snapped back to attention as they heard Iwaizumi's shout. The players moved instinctively, shifting into their defensive formation

The ball seemed destined to go out of bounds, but with its immense height, there was still a chance to save it.

And because of who was running toward it, no one doubted it would be saved.

Kageyama!

Kindaichi gritted his teeth, every muscle in his body coiling like a spring. He braced himself, gathering every ounce of strength left in him.

'I'll stop you!'

However...

An intense pressure suddenly broke loose, crashing onto everyone on the court like a tidal wave. Immediately, all eyes locked onto the figure who had just received the serve.

Tsuna was now charging toward the net.

He's gonna spike it!

The same thought echoed in unison through their minds. Their bodies moved instinctively, closing in on the monster sprinting forward with terrifying speed.

The ball finally made contact with Kageyama. It shot up toward where Tsuna was running. The distance was too far for a proper toss, yet Kageyama's super-fast toss made it possible.

Tsuna leaped into the air, soaring like a predator eyeing its prey.

"You won't do shit, you fucking monster!"

Iwaizumi screamed at the top of his lungs.

Along with Kindaichi and another player from the first year, they formed a formidable wall with their arms stretched to meet the ferocious spike head-on.

"...!"

Tsuna's left hand swung sharply as the sound that followed was deafening, like a gunshot reverberating through the gym.

BANG!

"Wha—?!"

Iwaizumi's eyes widened in disbelief. The force behind the spike was far greater than anything Tsuna had shown earlier.

But something else caught Iwaizumi's attention.

The trajectory.

It wasn't perfect. The ball was too high.

'We can stop this!'

For a fleeting moment, hope flickered in his mind. 

"Shit—!"

But the realization came too late. Iwaizumi couldn't pull back from the block in time.

"—Keuhk!!"

Pain shot through his palms as the ball slammed into them with a force that rattled his bones. The loud thwack echoed across the gym as the ball deflected off the block, spinning violently.

The ball rocketed down the line toward where Oikawa stood frozen. He was staring at Tsuna with disbelief written all over his face.

'Ah... How could I forget this? The gap is too big...'

The gap between the talented and the average.

He didn't even notice the ball until it struck the ground behind him with a resounding thud. It bounced once, twice, then rolled to a stop.

Whistle!

The sharp sound of the whistle pierced through the gym, signaling the end of the match. Then, all eyes turned toward the scoreboard, its numbers displaying the final result:

25-22.

Karasuno had won.

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