ため野矢の: Because of Noya

感心する Admire

The game started with a serve from number 5, a tall player with buzz cut and a fiery personality, much like rest of his teammates.
The volleyball went back and forth between the two sides until one person availed over the other, spiking over the net away from the confused blockers. I believe it was number 3, a....student?
I couldn't tell. He looked too much like an adult to be playing high school volleyball. He was extremely tall and wide, probably most powerful among the team, and had a "wild" sort of appearance.
To be honest, I was fairly frightened.
On the opposing side who was down 1-0 from number 3, an intense player stood up to serve. Moderately tall, his face seemed to draw a permanent scowl while his dark blue eyes burned into the net. His aura seemed very hostile, and even though I wasn't even playing, I felt intimidated looking at him from a distance.
The way he served was completely different from number 5's. He threw up the colorful ball, so high it looked like it was only a few inches away from grazing the ceiling. When it started receding back to the ground, the server (number 9, as I just learned) threw his arms back and advanced towards the ball. As he jumped, it looked like he was...
Almost flying?
Giving a powerful swing, the intimidating spiker (I have yet to know his position), launched the volleyball past the tall net, zooming towards a receiver (the captain, number 1). With a solid and painful sound, the ball bounced off of number 1's forearms and went straight up.
Other players called for the ball as the setter on the opposing side (Sugawara-san) stood with his arms up, ready for the ball to fit snugly in his hands and fire away to a spiker for the kill.

"They're good so far, aren't they?"

I was so consumed by the game in front of me, observing the players and numbers, that I was startled by the statement said so unexpectedly (and close to me!). I turned my head next to what looked like a middle-aged man (he didn't look like a high schooler, but I can't say for sure anymore ever since I saw number 3). His spiky blonde hair was tucked back by a black band loosely holding all of it together, and his small black pupils were burning at the players just as intensely as number 9's was at the net while setting.

"Well, yes. They seem like a moderate team, I suppose..."

I said quietly, looking back at the game and score.

"Definitely. When you look at them like this, they seem just like any mediocre volleyball team."

Confused by the statement, I turned my head (and attention) back to the person sitting next to me.

"Excuse me, but what do you mean by 'looking at them like this'? I can't exactly pinpoint their individual strengths, but they seem to have some hidden talent or purpose after you mentioned that."

The blonde man chuckled.

"You're pretty sharp to notice already. Even though you're aware of what they're capable of, you don't know what they can actually accomplish. Things are going to get interesting if the match gets heated."

After saying the last sentence, the man's expression completely changed. He smirked slyly while looking at the players, looking like he knew what their hidden weapons were and probably how they were going to go about performing them.
Honestly, I was a bit afraid. But in the process, excited to see the outcome of what was supposed to happen.

"Say, can you guess what positions they play?"

The blonde man asked.

Well.... What?
It was way too early to tell exactly what they played. The match was legitimately 2 points into the game. Is he overestimating me because of one sentence?

"Um.... I don't think I'll be good.... I'd rather g-"

"Just try! You'll see!"

The man blurted out before I had a chance to finish my excuse. Defeated, I sighed and lazily gave off my guesses (in the process, hoping they were wrong).