The intermission was brief.
The players hadn't fully regained their stamina when the referee's whistle signaled the start of the third set.
Both Karasuno and Shiratorizawa took their places on the court.
However, the atmosphere between the two teams was vastly different.
Karasuno was radiating an intense fighting spirit, fully charged from their back-to-back set wins. Confidence surged through their veins, igniting their determination. They could almost taste victory.
Shiratorizawa, on the other hand, carried the weight of desperation. The two consecutive losses had rattled them, an unfamiliar feeling for a team used to dominance. Their pride as Miyagi's reigning champions was being put to the ultimate test.
The realization was sinking in—Karasuno, a team that barely scraped by in the preliminaries in previous years, was now challenging them in a way no one had before.
Everyone recalled a conversation before the match. Ushijima had mentioned that Washijo, their coach, had tried to recruit a promising first-year, but that player had chosen Karasuno instead.
At the time, they had brushed it off.
A first-year? What difference could one player make? Potential didn't equal immediate results. Even Goshiki, despite his raw talent, was still developing under Washijo's training.
But what they had failed to grasp then was that this wasn't just about potential. This was about Akira's sheer, undeniable strength.
And in these past two sets, he had almost single-handedly disrupted Shiratorizawa's rhythm.
Not only did he have an offensive presence nearly on par with Ushijima's, but he had also managed to occasionally shut down Ushijima's spikes—something few players could claim to have done. Defensively, his blocking was a wall that Shiratorizawa struggled to bypass.
Was this really a first-year?
The whistle blew, snapping Shiratorizawa out of their thoughts.
Karasuno would serve first.
After Shiratorizawa received, Semi set the ball to Ushijima.
This time, there was an added urgency in Shiratorizawa's movements. But rather than panic, they were controlled. Their vast experience kept them grounded.
" One touch!"
Akira successfully blocked Ushijima's spike again. Though it wasn't a direct point, it forced a chance ball for Karasuno.
Kageyama moved into position, eyes locked on the ball.
With Akira drawing attention at the net, Tsukishima took advantage and executed a well-timed spike, scoring the first point for Karasuno.
Shiratorizawa responded in the next rally, Ushijima landing a sharp cross-court shot to tie the score.
The serve shifted to Shiratorizawa's side, but after a solid first pass, Akira came in with an unstoppable momentum, forcing a rushed set from Shirabu. The poorly positioned set resulted in a blocked attack.
The set was turning into a fierce exchange.
But as the game progressed, Shiratorizawa began to realize something unsettling.
Karasuno's success rate was increasing. Their attacks were more efficient. Their defense, tighter. Even Ushijima's usually unstoppable spikes were being neutralized more frequently.
"Finally, Shiratorizawa is feeling the heat!"
Oikawa grinned, watching from the stands. He pumped his fist in excitement.
"Look at Ushiwaka's face! It's darker than charcoal!"
Iwaizumi sighed beside him. "Would you focus, dumbass? We should be analyzing Karasuno's coordination and that No. 7."
Oikawa scratched his head sheepishly. "Yeah, but it's hard to be happy about Karasuno's success when they're going to win before we even get to crush them ourselves."
Smack.
Iwaizumi delivered a solid hit to the back of Oikawa's head. "You're the worst."
Mitsuda, watching intently, nodded. "Shiratorizawa has run into their biggest problem."
"What's that?" Yoshino asked, curious.
"They don't have a weak point. Or rather, they didn't have one. Akira created one."
Shiratorizawa had never needed to rely on intricate teamwork or elaborate tactics. Their strategy had always been brute force—crushing opponents with superior individual talent.
But now, their biggest advantage was turning into a liability. Akira had pinpointed their predictable playstyle and was dismantling it piece by piece.
With every block, every attack, and every strategic movement, Akira was exposing the limitations of their one-dimensional approach.
And Karasuno was capitalizing on it.
For the first time in years, the undefeated champions of Miyagi were on the verge of falling.
And the crows were ready to take flight.