Chapter 1 . The Game

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The gym is buzzing with anticipation as we stand shoulder-to-shoulder, warming up for the game. November 26, 3:00 PM. It's Friday afternoon, and we're about to face Inarizaki, one of the best teams in the country. My heart's pounding, but I try to keep my face neutral.

"We're definitely gonna win," I say, more to myself than anyone else. It's almost automatic; something I say before every big game.

Hinata bounces next to me, all hyped up as usual. "We've trained too hard to lose now," he says, his energy almost too much to handle. I glance over at him and roll my eyes, but there's a part of me that feels the same.

My eyes shift to the other side of the court, and I catch a glimpse of Kita, Inarizaki's captain. His expression is calm. Too calm for someone about to step into one of the most intense games of the season. But that's how they are. Inarizaki doesn't flinch. They don't crack under pressure. They just... play. I grit my teeth and focus, blocking out every thought that could distract me.

My eyes briefly lock with Miwa's, who's sitting in the stands. She's probably texting me to ask when the game's starting, even though I've told her like three times already. I glance at the message on my phone screen: "Don't screw up, Tobio." Typical.

The whistle blows. No more thoughts, no more distractions. It's time.

The game starts like a blur. My mind races as I take in every play, every serve, every block. Hinata's flying all over the court, nailing impossible spikes that only he can pull off. I can hear the crowd go wild every time he lands one. He grins at me, expecting my usual grumpy response, but I ignore him. It's not time for jokes.

Inarizaki's players aren't backing down. No matter what we throw at them, they come back harder. I feel the weight of the game growing with every point. We're neck and neck. My legs are burning from running across the court, but I can't stop.

We lose the first set. Damn. It hits hard, but I've learned how to shake it off quickly. There's no room for dwelling on mistakes, not in a game like this. The second set? Ours. The court is on fire now, and both teams are giving it everything.

The final set. Every muscle in my body feels like it's on the verge of collapse, but my mind is sharp. I look over at Hinata—he's got that same determined look he always gets when the game is on the line. It's reassuring, even if I'd never admit that to him.

Then, the moment happens. I set the ball—perfectly—and Hinata leaps higher than I've ever seen him go. Everything slows down for a split second. The crowd is holding its breath.

He spikes it.

The gym erupts. The whistle blows, and just like that, it's over. We've won.

Walking to the center of the court, we shake hands with Inarizaki's players. Kita's face is still unreadable, but there's a sense of respect there, and I nod in acknowledgment. Once all the formalities are over, I turn to Hinata, who's grinning like an idiot as he throws his stuff into his bag.

"Hey, dumbass. Are you still coming to my place tonight?" I ask, slinging my own bag over my shoulder.

"Yup!" he replies, with way too much energy for someone who just played three intense sets. "Your older sister is picking us up, right?"

"Yeah," I nod. "She should be here within the next few minutes."

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