gravity | r. suna ✓

eleven

- Tuesday, 6:25pm -

"Chance ball!" I call, as the ball flies calmly over the net. Kanemoto, our ace, had slammed the ball so hard into the receiver's arms that it was now on our side of the court.

This is a good chance.

Don't give them a chance to retaliate. Target specific receivers with our attacks. Be ruthless with our blocking - don't settle for a one-touch if there's a chance for a block out. Don't put up a block when the ball is set to Aran. Put up a gap between blockers so Suna is forced to hit straight when the ball is set to him.

Instead of focusing on the setter, we focus on limiting the setter's options. We focus on lowering the chances of a powerful attack before they even get the ball. That is our strategy.

The score is 16-15 to the boys team. We're close, and with this free ball, we might just catch up.

"I've got it!" Inari yells, moving under the ball - a motion that puts every spiker on our team into action.

All at once, different attacks are set up. Etsuko, setting up a quick in the middle. Two back row attacks, Emi and Kanemoto. A high ball to Kayo, on the right, is also a possibility. Chiyoko is running up on the left, completely ready to hit a set given direction to her.

The best part about synchronized attacks, especially when all the attacks are different, is that nobody knows who's a decoy and who is the real attacker. Not even the spikers themselves. That makes them the ultimate, believable decoys.

The blockers at the net divide, putting one blocker on each spiker running to the net. I set the middle. An A-quick. I didn't choose Etsuko for any particular reason, other than it's Suna who is committing to blocking her, and I want to challenge him, to annoy him. He puts his arms up for the block, but because he wasn't expecting me to set Etsuko, he's half a second behind the set. Our captain slams the ball to the ground, avoiding the tips of his fingers.

The whistle is blown. A point to us, of course.

I smirk at Suna, and his eyes tell me that he knows the motive behind that set.

"You're pathetic," he spits at me, not unkindly.

I smirk and tilt my head, provoking him. "Didn't we agree we wouldn't get salty, no matter who won?"

"Tch." He turns and talks to Atsumu. I assume he's complaining about me, but maybe I shouldn't be so self-centered. He could be saying anything. I find myself wanting my assumption to be true. I don't know why I'd want Suna to complain about me.

Maybe I just want him to talk about me. To think about me.

It's an absurd thought, and I can't get distracted now.

For the first time this set, the scores are tied at 16-16. It'll be a race to 20, and it'll be a hard race to win.

We got the last point because nobody was expecting me to set the middle. I call the team to gather around, an idea forming in my mind.

"The key is to be unpredictable." My new strategy forms and my teammates welcome it.

"Okay, we'll try to get a break with that," Etsuko nods, patting me on the back. "Well done. Keep it up, team."

I grin at Etsuko. "Nice spike, boss."

She nods at me, and we're back in the game, fighting for a third set.

It's my serve. I warm up my arm with a few bounces of the ball, then spin it on my palm, breathing deeply. It's time to show Atsumu that he's not so impressive.