Winner [Haikyu!! x OC] (Completed)

Doubt

After the first set, I'm feeling great. The guys may have been tense before the match, but winning a set 25-15 to start the match should boost their confidence. I stand with the coaches as the team comes trotting over, but instead of looking happy and pumped up like I thought they would, they look more serious than ever. I wrinkle my brow in confusion, ready to ask them about it, but I hold my tongue.

Oikawa starts the team conversation about the next set, with me listening carefully as he speaks. That's when I understand. Karasuno improved as the first set went on, so they're probably fully warmed up now. They're going to come back with everything they've got in the second set. Which means we have to take this set by any means possible.

I may not play volleyball, but the same principle applies in tennis. Fighting over a tie-breaking third set often takes more than a player has to give. It is exhausting both physically and mentally. Winning in straight sets is always preferable.

My enthusiasm reined in, I look over at Karasuno with a grim expression. The brown-haired and brown-eyed wing spiker I noticed earlier is saying something to his teammates. I learned that he's their captain, Daichi Sawamura. He claps his hands together as he finishes saying something, and his team cheers.

He reminds me of one of my friends in America. My friend Austin plays on the basketball team and I always admired him. He isn't the kind of player that stands out, but as an athlete, I could always tell how hard he was working to be anywhere he needed to be for his teammates to succeed. That has stuck with me throughout the years. Austin may not have been the lead scorer, but he always had the most assists. Without him, the lead scorer wouldn't have been able to score.

Watching Sawamura-san play, I can tell he has the same playing style as Austin. Karasuno is lucky to have him. Not to mention those crazy first-years. Iwaizumi was right— that quick attack is something else. However, my overall feeling of Karasuno's team is that they're scrappy. They have good skills and combinations, but they're all over the place. In fact, I would say that Sawamura-san is the only one keeping them moving forward and attacking.

I refocus on the team meeting as Oikawa wraps up the plan for the second set. Each player nods their understanding and I join in the cheer before they take their places on court. A new resolve floods through me as I look at our lineup. Karasuno is a good team. And they may pull out some new tricks in this set. But our team has more assets. Our teamwork is better, and that will pull us ahead. We won the first set. We can win the second.

I stare at my clipboard of stats in shock. How did Karasuno take a set from us? Sawamura-san may be the one holding them together, but the rest of them lash out erratically. I'm having trouble recognizing any kind of pattern.

Oikawa, on the other hand, is a lot better at that than I am. He's invented a counter-strategy for everything Karasuno has thrown at us. If he can keep that up, we can take the match back in the third set.

I look up at the team. I didn't think it was possible, but they look even more serious now than they did at the end of the first set. I walk over to their team huddle to show my support— help them mentally prepare for the third set. It's going to be taxing. But I believe in these guys. They can pull this off.

"What. Was. THAT?!" I just can't seem to stay in my seat during this match. But how could I not be on my feet when Oikawa just landed another spike? And from Watari's assist, no less?! How come I didn't know Watari could set the ball like that?

Well, actually, Watari was the one who was helping me learn how to set a ball in the first place, so I guess it makes sense that he has a good grasp on the skill. But in the end, it was just a hit, so why does Karasuno look so dumbfounded? And why is everyone freaking out so much?

"Coach, Coach, Coach," I take my seat and rapidly tap Coach Irihata's shoulder, my nerves getting the best of me and overriding the typical politeness I should show. "Help me understand. What just happened? Was that a super special move or something?"

Coach Mizoguchi glares at me, but Coach Irihata chuckles. "It sure was, Miss Kara." He points to the court. "The front line there is called the attack line. Since the libero is a player who specializes in defense, it is a violation for a spiker to attack from behind the line if the libero hits the ball from in front of the line. However, a skilled libero can get around that rule by jumping before he reaches the attack line. If he can touch the ball before he lands on the other side of the attack line, then it is not a violation."

"Oh, I see..." I replay Watari's set in my mind. He did jump before he reached the attack line. And Oikawa did jump from behind the line. But Watari also twisted his body midair and set the ball with perfect form. Like a setter would.

"Lucky for us," Coach Irihata continues, "Watari-kun played as a setter before he became a libero. That's why he can pull off that move. I don't know of any other player in the prefecture who can do it."

"Wow..." I stare at Watari, effectively awed. If he was formerly a setter, then the way he plays as a libero is truly one-of-a-kind. I'm going to have to pummel him with praise later. "He's incredible."

Coach Irihata nods. "Indeed, he is. And Oikawa as well, for knowing the capabilities and strengths of his players. And for being able to bring out his own strengths in response to theirs."

"Yeah..." I breathe. It's beautiful. The strengths of six players coming together as if they were one. Oikawa may have an attitude, but what he accomplishes as the captain of this team is undeniable.

And now he's up to serve again. We're ahead, 10-8. Oikawa's serves could help us stretch that lead.

That is, they could if Sawamura-san weren't so good at receiving.

I grit my teeth so hard it hurts. Seriously, Sawamura-san is nearly on par with their libero. What business does a wing spiker have being that good at defense?

I know I'm just spouting nonsense. I'm only stressed because his skill is working against us. If Sawamura-san were on my team, I would be elated to have such a well-rounded player on my side.

Hanamaki makes a desperate dive to pick up a spike from Man-bun. He manages to reach the ball, but it flies high, heading toward the other side of the court.

"Nice get, Makki-san!" I yell. It's fine. As long as the ball didn't hit the floor. This will at least give us another chance—

Oikawa leaps into the air, arms stretched high above him.

My eyes go wide.

His back is so close to the net. He's inches— no, centimeters— away from a net violation.

I can't breathe. Please, please don't let his back hit the net.

Oikawa's straining fingers reach the ball. With clenched teeth, he pushes it back up, right to where Iwaizumi's hand is waiting to slam it into Karasuno's side of the court.

"Oh my gosh..." I bring a hand to my chest to feel my lungs inflate again. I'm so relieved, I can't even bring myself to cheer. That play was insane. And Oikawa jumped without hesitation. Would I have been able to take that kind of risk?

I swallow hard, my eyes focused on Oikawa. The more he plays, the more I believe in him. The more I look up to him. The more I want to follow him as my captain. It's like I've been put in my place. And I can't even feel angry or indignant about it. It's just the cold, hard facts. I'm out of my element here. But Oikawa doesn't allow me any room to doubt.

Room to stress and to learn and to cheer? Yes. But room to doubt? No.

We're going to win this.