I'm only a weakling | haikyuu

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗙𝗼𝘂𝗿: 𝗚𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗙𝗼𝗿 𝗔 𝗠𝗮𝗻

But you're so unaffected, 

i really don't get it.

*

The third game started with much more intensity than the previous two, as if to signal to the audience that the warm-up was over. Now, the real battle had begun.

"Bang!!"

Sakusa spiked the ball hard, the sound echoing through the gym as the ball flew past your ear. He squinted, watching you walk past the net with your usual unreadable expression.

'This guy is seriously infuriating', Sakusa thought, frustrated by your calm demeanor.

Tendou, standing off to the side, pouted playfully, clearly enjoying the spectacle. 'Who would've thought you'd get riled up just from a ball brushing past your ear?'

But the truth was, you weren't exactly "riled up." You were simply annoyed with Sakusa's attitude. You thought you were keeping that displeasure hidden well, but it all came out in the next plays—

Swoosh—

Bang!

The volleyball flew past Komori's face with such force that he instinctively dodged, taking a couple of steps back in shock. And that was just the beginning of your "revenge."

Snap!

Sakusa's spike was blocked—by your hand. Although, to be fair, your finger throbbed painfully afterward.

Bang!!

Your serve slammed into Komori's arm, leaving a large red mark. He winced, trying to shake it off, while Iizuna, the setter, was forced to step in and receive serves instead of setting them up.

Your relentless targeting of Itachiyama had even the audience wincing. The commentator, clearly uncomfortable, coughed and tried to smooth things over: "It seems... it seems Dynamite is really excited and, um, strategic!"

'Strategic?' Komori fumed, clearly the most affected by your "strategy." 'Sakusa's the one who pissed him off—so why am I the one paying the price?'

'Is this what it means to be a libero? Do we always take the brunt of the attacks?!'

You had no idea how much you were frustrating Komori, and honestly, you didn't even realize what you were doing was bothering him. To you, these were just serves coming naturally, straight from the heart.

Since you had scored on the last serve, you stood behind the line again, gently patting the volleyball. Your gaze swept over the court, landing on Komori. He looked determined, his expression firm.

'This one—I've got to receive this', Komori thought, steeling himself.

With a crisp pop, the ball flew towards Itachiyama's side. Komori's eyes widened as he focused. In his mind, he replayed the angles and spins of all your previous serves.

'...If I've read this right, it should be—'

'—here!'

In a flash, Komori shifted, positioned himself at the boundary, and crouched low to intercept the ball.

"He's done it! In the third game, Itachiyama's libero, Komori, has finally received Dynamite's serve! Is today the day he breaks the "libero killer" spell?" the commentator shouted, full of excitement.

But Komori had misjudged the strength. The ball, cushioned by his arms, flew high into the air, nearly hitting the distant ceiling of the Tokyo Gymnasium. Both Iizuna and Shirabu locked eyes across the net, aggression burning in their gaze as they tracked the ball's descent, ready to pounce.