I'm only a weakling | haikyuu

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗦𝗶𝘅𝘁𝘆 𝗙𝗶𝘃𝗲: 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗧𝗿𝘂𝗺𝗽𝗲𝘁

One has to be careful what one takes, 

when one goes away forever.

✮⋆˙

'Huh?'

Across the net, Atsumu narrowed his eyes sharply. 'That sound... it's too soft.'

He tracked the ball with intense focus, watching as it floated through the air like a paper plane, unsteady but stubbornly gliding forward. It wobbled as though ready to crash at any second, yet somehow it drifted over the net and through the court, lazily passing just above everyone's heads, almost alive.

Of everyone on the court, Akagi looked the most tense.

His eyes were wide, every muscle on high alert, clinging to his coach's pre-game words:

'Don't overthink Dynamite's serve. For Inarizaki, even just receiving it is a victory.'

'Just catch it. Just don't let it hit the floor. Just—'

"Pop."

...

'...Huh?'

Akagi blinked, stunned. 'Wait, what? Where's the ball?'

The audience blinked too, exchanging confused glances. The whole gym seemed frozen, as if everyone had turned into those cartoonish wide-eyed characters with dots for eyes. No one seemed to understand what just happened.

Akagi's body froze mid-move. He stared as the ball—which had seemed like it would keep flying—suddenly dropped. No warning, no bounce, no crash. It simply plopped to the ground right in front of him, as if it had lost all its energy mid-air.

And then, the realization hit.

The crowd erupted.

Even Atsumu stood there, dumbfounded, blinking rapidly like he couldn't trust his eyes. 'What the... a jump float? That's not a jump float! That's some kind of cheat code! A remote-controlled ball?! Who the hell serves a ball that acts like it's alive?!'

From the bench, Kita, always composed, lost his cool for a moment, shooting up from his seat.

"D-Dynamite scores! What just happened?!" The first commentator's voice crackled with shock.

"It's... it must've been a jump float serve!" the second commentator boomed. "But not just any jump float—Dynamite just pulled off something completely unprecedented!"

"He's easily claimed Shiratorizawa's first service point of the game!"

"It's like he's saying, 'If I'm serving, the point is already ours.'"

"That's Dynamite's confidence on full display!"

The energy in the gym hit an explosive high, the kind usually reserved for the game's climax. Shiratorizawa's cheer squad roared, their chants and drums blending with the buzz of shocked conversations from the audience.

No one could blame them for their reactions. It had all happened so fast—so unexpectedly—that no one had time to even process the ball's bizarre trajectory or where it had landed.

Even Coach Washijo on the Shiratorizawa bench froze for a moment before his lips curved into a satisfied smile.

"So that's the serve Dynamite's been tirelessly perfecting over the past few days," the advisor commented, glancing at Washijo. Both of them recalled the endless hours you'd spent trying to make jump floats second nature, sending all kinds of strange serves flying during practice.