The Birth of A Volleyball Legend

Still, even with all the injustice he faced, Haruo was not someone who could remain idle and whine all day without taking any action. Before he entered the court for the third set, he slapped his cheek hard, waking himself up from the depressed mood that had infected him by his teammates.

"Okay, even though the coach doesn't like me and has already deemed the game a lost cause, the most important thing is my attitude. Even if less than half of the supporters still remain, they are willing to spend their time watching our game. I cannot disappoint them more than this."

This was the kind of professional attitude that would help any player enjoy a long career. Although his fate was always tied to the management and the coach, if he had the backing of the supporters, half of his problems could be solved easily. After all, at the end of the day, money would come from the audience; so the more he was loved by the audience, the more secure his career would be.

Of course, Haruo didn't dwell on that too much. He always viewed the game from the audience's perspective. If he were a spectator, what kind of game would he want to watch? That kind of question drove him forward as a player.

"Okay, let's make the supporters' money worth it!"

With that thought in mind, Haruo walked to the right back, where his first rotation of this set would be. This ensured that he would stay on the court for at least four more rotations before being replaced by the libero.

After waiting for a while, the referee finally blew the whistle, starting the game. The first one to serve the ball was Thunder's ace—whose name Haruo caught as Uehara—and he saw that Yuki was back on the bench again.

"Well, it seems that his fate is worse than mine. At least I can still stand on the court and play here, not just mope silently on the bench," Haruo thought, feeling pity for his peer.

He shook his head quickly, throwing that thought away. Pitying Yuki wouldn't do anything for him, except perhaps make him feel a bit more superior, but that dangerous thought would only make his performance sloppy in the future.

"Okay, I need to concentrate. His serve is powerful—far stronger than even what Senta-senpai has in his arsenal. It would be bad if the ball comes in my direction, but I should be able to stop it."

Fortunately, the serve didn't come in his direction but to one of the bench players in the middle. It seemed Uehara wanted to test the new player's capability first by aiming straight at the best defender on the Giant Bear's side at that moment. Luckily, even though it wasn't perfect, the player managed to receive the ball and keep it in the air.

"Sorry! Bad receive!" that player shouted, apologizing immediately.

"Don't worry, Shige! We got this!" the other players replied, running to the left side to pick up the wild ball.

Haruo followed the ball's movement patiently, knowing that his role wasn't needed in this type of situation. He also kept his eyes on the other side of the court, preparing for any attack from the opponent.
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The play itself went ordinarily, with the Giant Bear's players failing to launch a decent attack. In the end, they just sent the ball far to the back of Thunder's side, hoping to create some chaos—wishful thinking that was improbable in reality.

"Kojima!"

"I got this!"

Kojima, Thunder's outside hitter, picked up the ball easily, sending it straight to Riku as usual. Haruo turned his body around, paying attention to where the ball would go. Although Riku's game plan was predictable today, Haruo still had a hard time stopping the attack coming straight from in front of him.

Of course, Haruo knew this was because the hitters he faced today were far more intelligent than his usual opponents. However, that was just an excuse to avoid his responsibility, and the mere thought of it made his skin crawl.

So, when he realized that the ball was going to Uehara—the player he had struggled to stop since the beginning of the game—Haruo didn't hesitate to jump in an attempt to block the shot.

BAM!

"Sorry! Please, cover the ball!" Haruo shouted after he managed to reduce the impact of the spike. Unfortunately, he couldn't aim it perfectly, resulting in his teammates having to run to the outside of the court to retrieve the ball.

"Don't worry, I got this!"

Haruo clicked his tongue in annoyance—not for his teammates, but for his own uselessness in this situation. This was the fourth time he faced Uehara head-on today, and surprisingly, he hadn't stopped Uehara's attack even once. Honestly, this was the first time he had ever found himself in such a position, and it sucked.

"Shit, even though his strength is slightly worse than Nitta-senpai's, he compensates for it with his intelligence. It is so damn hard to predict where he will spike the ball."

But that didn't mean Haruo would give up. His eyes kept wandering around the court, observing every tiny detail of what was happening and processing it within his mind as quickly as possible. He could see Thunder's blocker and opposite hitter jumping in unison, trying to block Goro's spike. He could also predict, by his captain's body language, that even if the ball were blocked, his captain would ensure it would fly into a tricky situation for the opponent to recover.

BAM!

"OH! Nice spike, Goro-senpai!"

"Shit! Someone, run! Get the ball!"

Even though Tokyo Thunder had a two-set lead at that point, they still ran with all their strength as if it were an even match. This was understandable; after all, a new set usually meant a new beginning. So even though they were ahead, the Thunder team didn't want to take a chance and risk giving away the momentum to the opponent.

"I got this!"

"Agostini, get ready!"

Haruo blinked for a moment as the attack was about to come. It was still a second ball, and with three of Thunder's hitters running simultaneously, it was no wonder that no one on his side was paying attention to Riku.

However, Haruo did.

He kept tracking the blonde boy's movements, knowing what he was capable of. And when he was sure a spike dump was coming, he didn't even know when he jumped—it was a purely reactionary movement. The next thing he knew, he was already in the air with both hands extended high, and a second later, he could feel the impact of the spike hitting his forearms.

BAM!