January 4th—though the new year had already begun, the festive atmosphere still lingered in the air. A sense of holiday relaxation and ease permeated the streets.
At Aoba Johsai High School, the volleyball team was fully prepared, gathering early at the school gates. Unlike last time, when they had departed quietly, this time the entire campus was packed with students.
"You guys go on ahead. This time, we're all coming to cheer you on!" announced Hirata Mitsuaki, the school's discipline director, turning to talk to Coach Mizoguchi Sadayuki.
Behind him, Aoba Johsai students waved banners and homemade support signs, each expressing their encouragement for the volleyball team in their own way.
"Thank you, everyone. We really appreciate it!" Coach Mizoguchi replied on behalf of the entire team.
Amidst the enthusiastic cheers, the players stepped out of the school gates. Their strides were steady and firm, each step carrying the expectations of their classmates and teachers.
A bus, arranged specially for the team, was already waiting in the parking lot, adorned with words of encouragement. A warmth spread through the players' hearts as they took in the sight.
With the roar of the engine, the bus slowly pulled away from the school, carrying Aoba Johsai's entire volleyball team toward the grand stage of Spring High.
Outside the windows, the scenery rushed past, but the players' minds were already far ahead—focused on their destination.
For the first time in six months, they were heading to Tokyo again.
Heading to the nationals.
This was their second time breaking into the national tournament.
After checking into a familiar hotel, the team followed their usual routine—heading to a nearby gym to move their bodies and get back into rhythm.
Compared to their first nationals, when nervous excitement had gripped them, this time the team was noticeably calmer.
But this calm did not mean a lack of passion—rather, it reflected their growth.
They had matured. They now had better control over their emotions, allowing them to channel their energy into proper match preparation.
The next day—Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium.
The Spring High School Volleyball Tournament opening ceremony was not too different from the Interhigh Nationals they had experienced in the summer.
Back then, everything—from the grand opening to the fierce competition—had left a deep impression on the first-time participants.
This time, however, the players paid closer attention to the other teams.
Since they had set their sights on reaching the very top, every team could be a potential opponent standing in their way.
When the ceremony concluded, Aoba Johsai discovered that, as one of the Interhigh quarterfinalists, they had a bye in the first round.
"Aw, man, I was hoping to get a feel for the court today," Oikawa Tōru sighed, stretching his hands in boredom.
"Even a first-time team at nationals could be capable of making it all the way to the end," Iwaizumi Hajime warned, his expression serious. "Don't get careless, dumbass Oikawa, or you'll end up getting eliminated before you even know what hit you."
"Of course," Oikawa responded, dropping the lighthearted act. His voice was firm. "This is our last chance."
Iwaizumi knew better than anyone how seriously Oikawa took competition.
But the setter's tendency to maintain a playful façade could sometimes affect the mentality of the rest of the team.
Just as Oikawa had said—this was the third-years' final shot.
That was exactly why they needed to focus on every detail. They weren't aiming for nail-biting victories. They wanted to firmly secure every single win.
"Even though we don't have a match today, we can go watch our next opponent," Coach Irihata suggested with a grin.
"And guess what? It's an old rival."
Court E – Nekoma vs. Kiyokawa
The match had yet to begin, but Kaedehara Taichi was already making his way over to say hello.
"Taichi, don't go provoking the other team!" Iwaizumi Hajime called out, a little worried.
"Relax!" Taichi patted his chest confidently. "I got it."
"I'll go with him," Oikawa Tōru volunteered. "If I'm there, Taichi won't cause any trouble."
"Sit down!" Iwaizumi pressed down on Oikawa's head, forcing him back onto the bench. "Stay right here and just watch the match!"
"Not fair! Why does Taichi get to—ow!" Oikawa yelped mid-sentence as a sharp jab hit his ribs.
"I got it…I got it, Iwa-chan…" Oikawa muttered in a trembling voice.
Their antics drew the attention of several nearby spectators. If not for their matching team uniforms, they might have been mistaken for a bullying incident.
"Kuroo-senpai! Kenma!"
Kaedehara Taichi strode toward the Nekoma team, calling out loudly.
"Taichi!" Kuroo Tetsurō responded with equal enthusiasm. "Didn't expect to run into you this early!"
"Taichi!" Kozume Kenma, who had been looking exhausted just moments ago, suddenly brightened.
"If you guys win today, you'll get to play against us," Taichi said cheerfully. "I hope you don't get knocked out too early—I've been looking forward to playing against Kenma in a real 'game over if you lose' match at nationals."
Kuroo's golden eyes narrowed slightly, and a smirk played at his lips. "Oh? Is this the confidence of an Interhigh quarterfinalist?" he teased.
But Taichi's response took him by surprise. The younger player met Kuroo's gaze head-on, his tone unwavering.
"No. This is the confidence of the future Spring High national champions."
Kuroo looked at the opponent standing before him—now nearly eye-to-eye with him in height. A mix of emotions stirred within him.
Unlike his own loud, excitable middle blocker, Kaedehara Taichi's confidence wasn't just bravado. It was built on something solid—countless hours of relentless training and back-to-back championship victories in Miyagi.
"Ha…" Kuroo chuckled, his laughter both amused and appreciative. Beneath it was the unmistakable thrill of an impending battle. "That kind of blunt confidence is hard to hate, y'know."
"Thank you, Kuroo-senpai. Best of luck in your match," Taichi said with a polite nod.
"Mm. Don't worry," Kuroo replied, his expression sharpening. "We're not losing in the first round."
As the warm-ups began, Taichi turned and walked away. From start to finish, he hadn't said a single word to Kozume Kenma.
"…Kuro, you still think it's a shame we didn't get to recreate the Dumpster Battle?" Kenma asked quietly.
"Yeah," Kuroo admitted. "It's something Coach's been dreaming of for years." Then, his tone softened. "But I'm happy to play against Aoba Johsai, too. What about you? Weren't you curious about playing against both Hinata and Taichi?"
Kenma's golden eyes followed Taichi's departing figure. At that moment, his pupils narrowed into slits—like a cat locking onto its prey in the dark.
"…I think I'd pick Taichi," he murmured.
"Taichi's stronger now."
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