Haikyuu - Chapter 304 (Patreon)

Shirabu was the first to react.

He knew blocking wasn’t his strength, so he turned to call someone over to help, only to realize that everyone else already had their hands full.

Ryosuke was locked in a head-to-head battle with Sakusa, neither willing to give the other an inch.

Reon and Tsutomu Goshiki, meanwhile, were keeping watch on another attacker.

That left Shirabu alone against Iizuna.

When he realized no one could come over, Shirabu took a few quick steps toward the net and jumped to block, following what Coach Washijō had taught him and the way Ryosuke usually approached his blocks.

He actually came close to stopping Iizuna.

Iizuna immediately put more force into his left hand and changed the height of the ball, sending it cleanly over Shirabu’s fingertips.

It was a setter dump.

Yamagata hadn’t expected Iizuna’s second-touch attack to be so quick and decisive either.

From his previous experience defending setter dumps, starting his approach the moment the ball was sent over was usually enough.

This time, however, that wasn’t going to work.

Iizuna was simply too fast.

Yamagata reacted a step too late and failed to reach the ball.

“Bang!”

The volleyball landed behind Shirabu.

The referee immediately blew the whistle.

“Beep!”

Hearing the whistle signaling a point, Ryosuke stopped in surprise.

Sakusa did the same.

The two turned toward the source of the sound and saw the setters standing on opposite sides of the net.

Shirabu’s expression was sour.

Iizuna, meanwhile, looked thoroughly pleased with himself as he turned toward Sakusa.

“Apparently, I’m better off scoring myself than relying on you guys!”

Sakusa rolled his eyes with remarkable elegance, clearly refusing to entertain that nonsense.

Iizuna was basically implying that one of the nation’s top five wing spikers was less useful than a setter.

Why would Sakusa even bother responding?

Fujino, on the other hand, was an honest kid.

He walked over while scratching his head awkwardly.

“Iizuna-senpai really is impressive.”

That only made Iizuna even more smug.

Shirabu walked over to Reon with an unpleasant expression.

Getting scored on by an attacker was one thing.

But letting a setter score with a second-touch attack?

What was that supposed to be?

Seeing how crisp and decisive Iizuna’s dump had been instantly made Shirabu feel inferior, and he hated that feeling.

Reon reached out and ruffled Shirabu’s hair.

Shirabu gave a quiet huff of displeasure, but he didn’t actually push Reon’s hand away.

“Reon-senpai, sorry. I couldn’t stop that one.”

Reon shook his head.

“Blocking isn’t a setter’s main job anyway. You did well.”

Only then did Shirabu feel a little better.

He had been too caught up in the frustration of failing to block the ball earlier, but now that he thought back on Iizuna’s play, something felt strange.

Shirabu distinctly remembered seeing Iizuna change the angle of his arm at the last instant to avoid the block.

At first glance, there was nothing particularly unusual about that.

But the biggest issue was that Iizuna was a setter.

Putting aside how good he might be at attacking, he had used his left hand for that second-touch attack.

And Iizuna’s left hand seemed a little too...

Natural.

Far too natural for a setter.

The more Shirabu thought about it, the stranger it seemed.

He turned toward Reon, intending to mention it, but then hesitated.

What if he had simply seen it wrong?

“Beep!”

The referee blew the whistle impatiently.

Shirabu frowned and returned to his position.

Forget it.

He would watch a little longer.

There was no harm in waiting until he was certain before telling Reon-senpai.

Urged on by the whistle, everyone returned to their positions.

Shiratorizawa’s serving turn had ended.

Now it was Itachiyama’s turn.

Iizuna walked toward the service line with the volleyball in his hand and a broad smile on his face.

He certainly looked happy.

Komori found Iizuna’s smug expression amusing.

The guy acted serious most of the time, but every now and then, he could be surprisingly childish.

Iizuna reached the service line.

Once the referee saw that both sides were ready, he blew the whistle.

Standing behind the line, Iizuna confidently tossed the volleyball into the air.

Ushijima’s eyebrow twitched.

Why did that motion look so familiar?

But Iizuna obviously had no idea what Ushijima was thinking.

After tossing the ball, he followed it into his approach.

Just as the volleyball began to descend, Iizuna jumped.

The height he reached was astonishing.

Then, while still in the air, Iizuna extended his left hand and struck the ball.

“Bang!”

The volleyball spun rapidly as it flew toward the right.

Yamagata watched it coming straight toward him.

He quickly moved several steps forward, adjusted his footwork, and waited for the ball to fall neatly into his arms.

Ushijima frowned as he watched the serve.

The more he looked at it, the stranger it seemed.

Then it suddenly clicked.

That serve looked almost exactly like his own.

Its arc and trajectory were moving toward the right, but the volleyball itself was spinning toward the left.

That meant Iizuna’s serve was different from most players’.

He was serving left-handed.

Ushijima simply hadn’t noticed it before.

In his mind, if someone else happened to be left-handed like him, he had unconsciously assumed that person would be an attacker.

Not a setter.

Ushijima frowned in frustration.

He had been careless.

Then he shouted,

“Yamagata, left!”

The ball still hadn’t reached him.

Yamagata froze for an instant when he heard Ushijima, then reacted immediately.

He focused on the ball again.

Sure enough.

The spin wasn’t carrying it toward the right.

Without caring what anyone else might think, Yamagata suddenly sprinted toward the left.

Everyone watching was stunned.

“Wait, what is he doing?”

Hoshiumi had looked down for just a moment.

When he raised his head again, he saw Shiratorizawa’s libero running in the opposite direction from the ball.

He stared in shock, then turned toward Hirugami.

Hirugami and the others around him were all watching the still-flying volleyball with unusually serious expressions.

Sitting in front of them, Oikawa’s eyes widened dramatically.

He grabbed Iwaizumi’s clothes and blurted out,

“He... he serves left-handed!”

Oikawa knew that serving motion and that kind of spin far too well.

There had been countless sleepless nights when he replayed Aobajosai’s defeats against Shiratorizawa over and over in his head.

And among all those memories, Ushijima’s serve was one of the things that appeared most often.

By now, Oikawa had reached the point where seeing anyone serve left-handed immediately reminded him of Ushijima.

That was how deeply Ushijima had left an impression on him.

Sometimes the person who understood you best wasn’t yourself, but your opponent.

Just as Oikawa understood Ushijima, he had also ended up learning plenty about left-handed servers in general.

Hirugami and Hakuba both looked down when they heard Oikawa shouting.

From Hirugami’s angle, all he could see was the top of Oikawa’s head.

That chocolate-brown head kept bobbing back and forth beside Iwaizumi’s spiky hair while Oikawa continued talking nonstop.

“I’m not seeing things, Iwa-chan! It really is left-handed! I can recognize that kind of serve instantly. It’s disgusting, just like Ushiwaka’s serve!”

Iwaizumi impatiently shoved Oikawa’s face away.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I know Ushijima has beaten you plenty of times, and I know that’s a left-handed serve. Now I’m trying to watch the match, so shut up.”

“Waaah! Iwa-chan, you’re so cruel!”

Iwaizumi was busy watching the match.

The fact that he was only scolding Oikawa verbally already counted as mercy.

Otherwise, Oikawa would have been in for a beating.

The stands were full of noise, and even the commentator’s voice seemed louder than usual.

“What a shocking move! Shiratorizawa’s Yamagata is running in the opposite direction even though the ball’s trajectory looks perfectly clear! Why?! Is he giving up on the receive?!”

The instant the commentator finished speaking, the volleyball curved toward the left in full view of everyone.

It really changed direction.

Yamagata quickly reached the correct spot and threw himself forward in a dive.

The volleyball bounced off the back of his hands and flew high into the air.

After getting the ball up, Yamagata quickly climbed back to his feet.

Only then did relief hit him.

A bead of cold sweat slid down his forehead.

If Ushijima hadn’t warned him, Iizuna really would have caught him completely off guard.

That had been close.

The moment Yamagata sent the ball up, Shirabu began moving as well.

As he ran, he finally realized why Iizuna’s earlier play had felt so strange.

So that was it.

That second-touch attack earlier had been with his left hand.

And Iizuna was obviously almost as comfortable with his left hand as with his right.

Otherwise, how had no one noticed until now?

Shirabu ran all the way beneath the ball and jumped to set.

Ushijima and Tsutomu Goshiki charged toward the net, one slightly ahead of the other.

This time, Ryosuke didn’t immediately rush off to find someone to block.

Instead, he followed directly behind Ushijima toward the net.

A moment earlier, Ushijima had signaled to him with his eyes.

He hadn’t said anything, but Ryosuke understood.

Ushijima wanted him to follow.

Which meant Ryosuke was probably going to be the one attacking this ball.

When Shirabu saw Ryosuke running behind Ushijima, he immediately understood who the set should go to.

Nishio and Kishimoto once again chose to block Ushijima.

Ushijima was a much greater threat than Tsutomu Goshiki.

That left Fujino alone against Tsutomu Goshiki, making his side look almost deserted by comparison.

But Shirabu didn’t exploit the opening by setting to Tsutomu Goshiki.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Komori waiting in a position Tsutomu Goshiki couldn’t see.

Sakusa was also glancing toward that side every now and then.

Relatively speaking, Tsutomu Goshiki’s side was actually the most dangerous attacking option on the court right now.

Itachiyama’s coverage left almost no gaps.

Shirabu set the volleyball toward Ushijima.

Seeing Ushijima approaching, Nishio and Kishimoto crouched in front of the net and held their positions.

They wanted to avoid being caught by a delayed attack.

They would wait for Ushijima to jump before jumping themselves.

Ushijima quickly reached the net.

The moment he jumped, Nishio and Kishimoto followed.

Just as they bent their knees to take off, Kishimoto’s sharp eyes noticed something strange about the ball’s position.

He reached out and tried to stop Nishio, hoping to make him wait before jumping.

Too late.

Nishio couldn’t stop his momentum and jumped immediately.

Kishimoto sighed helplessly, then jumped with him.

All three rose into the air.

Ushijima raised his arm to spike.

Nishio and Kishimoto raised their arms to block.

They braced themselves for the impact of Ushijima blasting through them.

But the expected pain never came.

All three landed together.

Only then did Nishio realize something was wrong.

He and Kishimoto immediately jumped again.

Sure enough, the instant Ushijima landed, he moved aside.

Ryosuke, who normally handled the blocking, suddenly burst out from behind him to attack.

The moment Ryosuke jumped, both blockers were startled.

He was simply too high.

Despite Nishio and Kishimoto both being around 190 centimeters tall, Ryosuke rose almost level with them.

Maybe even slightly higher.

The two set their arms for the block and watched Ryosuke extend his right hand in the motion of a cross shot.

They immediately shifted their arms sideways like windshield wipers.

Seeing that, Ryosuke bent his wrist and pressed the volleyball straight down.

“Bang!”

The ball dropped rapidly along the net and struck the floor.

All three players landed together.

The moment Nishio touched down, he stared at Ryosuke’s wrist as though he had just discovered some rare animal.

Ryosuke awkwardly turned his face away.

Nishio hesitated before asking,

“Why does your wrist look just like Sakusa’s? Do childhood friends even have matching wrists?”

Kishimoto rolled his eyes.

What an idiot.

He smacked Nishio across the back of the head.

“They’re completely different.”

“Exactly.”

Ryosuke smiled at Nishio and held out his wrist.

Then he bent it to nearly a ninety-degree angle right in front of him.

“Even an ordinary person can do this. It’s just difficult to generate power from that position.”

Nishio nodded in sudden understanding and thanked him.

Then he walked back with Kishimoto, turning his wrist into the same position as he went.

“Look, Kishimoto! I can do it too!”

“I can see that...”

Ryosuke smiled before heading to the service line.

As he passed, Ushijima praised him.

“Good job.”

Ryosuke’s eyes curved into little crescents as he smiled at Ushijima.

Then he took the volleyball from the ball boy.

“Beep!”

The referee checked both sides and blew the whistle.

Komori, who had been standing there rather casually, instantly switched into match mode.

The softness disappeared from his eyes.

They became deep and sharp like a wolf’s as he stared straight at Ryosuke.

Ryosuke noticed Komori’s gaze and raised his head.

The two looked at each other across the entire court, neither giving an inch in presence.

Ryosuke curled his lips into a smile.

His dimples appeared.

For a brief moment, Komori was dazed.

That sweet smile took him back to when he, Sakusa, and Ryosuke had all been in kindergarten together.

Ryosuke had been just as soft and adorable back then.

Unfortunately, the Ryosuke standing before him now was no longer that cute little child.

He had become a monster on the volleyball court.

The instant Komori lost focus, Ryosuke tossed the volleyball into the air.

Komori was so exasperated he almost laughed.

This brat had no sense of fair play at all.

He had actually used that distraction to serve.

Ryosuke tossed the ball high.

His shoulder faced the net, and he raised his elbow, driving his forearm and hand forward.

Then he struck the volleyball with all his strength.

“Bang!”

The sharp impact rang out from Ryosuke’s palm.

Sitting off the court, Kawanishi heard the sound and nodded in satisfaction.

Not bad.

Judging from that impact, Ryosuke was in pretty good form on this serve.