The second set began with a heavy silence, like the gym was holding its breath.
Karasuno was up one set, but Date Tech wasn't the kind of team to fold. And Kurosawa… he looked different.
More focused.
Less robotic.
More dangerous.
Riku noticed it right away.
His posture had shifted. No longer stiff or automatic. He moved like a real athlete now—adaptive, light on his feet, reading everything.
System notification appeared in Riku's mind.
System Alert: Opponent "Hayato Kurosawa" has activated a core sub-program
Protocol: Data Rewrite
Effect: Rewrites predictive sync into real-time combat adaptation
Warning: Opponent no longer relies on pattern matching. Individual combat logic initiated.
So now he was playing like a person.
And worse—he still had his system.
The first serve came, and Karasuno returned it cleanly. Kageyama sent a textbook quick to Hinata. Hinata launched like a missile—and Kurosawa read it instantly.
He didn't jump early.
He waited.
Then struck.
His hand met Hinata's ball mid-air and sent it flying straight back down. Clean block. No wasted motion.
"Whoa," Hinata blinked, stunned.
"He didn't guess that time," Riku muttered. "He *read* it."
Across the net, Kurosawa didn't smirk. But his eyes held the glint of confidence.
The next rally began. Karasuno tried a cross-rotation set with Tanaka faking a spike. Riku came in late for the finish.
But Kurosawa was there.
Not blocking too early.
Not syncing with Aone.
He jumped at the exact second he needed to—like he'd already seen it play out.
Block.
Again.
The ball thudded to the floor.
Date Tech: 2
Karasuno: 0
This wasn't the same guy.
Kuroo, watching from the crowd, leaned forward. "That's not normal. That's next-level reading. That's like… he's inside the game."
Kenma narrowed his eyes. "Or something's inside him."
Back on the court, Riku clenched his jaw.
The system buzzed again.
System Evaluation: You are now at a strategic disadvantage
Suggested Action: Access past life memories for tactical insight
Memory Thread Unlocked: "Match Analysis – Corporate AI Project X9"
Riku's head rang.
A flash of memory came—sitting in a sleek Tokyo office in his old life, dozens of screens in front of him, running simulations of competitive AI for sports strategy.
He had designed algorithms that could counter real players with thousands of pattern simulations.
That knowledge… was still inside him.
He blinked hard.
Then smirked.
"Alright, Kurosawa," he whispered. "You want to play like a machine? I'll outthink you like the guy who built one."
On the next serve, Riku didn't call for a set. He stayed quiet and observed.
Kurosawa's eyes twitched left every time they did a quick. Right before a jump, his feet twitched, adjusting based on the height of Kageyama's toss.
Every single move was logical.
And Riku was going to scramble it.
Kageyama tossed high to Riku—perfect for a power spike.
Kurosawa shifted position—ready to block at max height.
But Riku didn't hit it hard.
He changed his hand mid-air and cut the ball sharp—straight into Kurosawa's forearms, deflecting it out of bounds.
It wasn't clean.
But it worked.
Kurosawa looked… puzzled.
The ball didn't follow logic.
Because it wasn't about power.
It was about *emotion*.
"Volleyball's not just equations," Riku muttered under his breath. "It's rhythm. It's soul."
He turned toward his team. "Kageyama—switch tempo. Sugawara—fake call. Hinata—double feint. Everyone, move like you don't know what you're doing."
Daichi blinked. "You want us to play… bad?"
"I want us to play human," Riku replied. "Unpredictable. Real. Alive."
The next few rallies were madness.
Karasuno broke rhythm on every play.
Sets came too fast, or too slow. Decoys were stacked on top of each other. Even Nishinoya started jumping into weird cover positions to throw Date Tech's reads off.
And it worked.
Kurosawa couldn't block cleanly anymore.
He was hesitating.
Because machines hate randomness.
Kageyama lobbed a back set. Riku leapt in.
Kurosawa jumped.
Riku faked—hung in the air—and tapped it right over.
Point.
The bench exploded in cheers. Even Asahi yelled.
On the scoreboard, the numbers flipped:
Karasuno: 15
Date Tech: 14
Timeout.
This time, Karasuno called it.
As the players gathered, Riku knelt on one knee, breathing heavy.
"Nice call," Daichi said. "You good?"
"Yeah," Riku nodded. "But Kurosawa's not done. He's adjusting again. He's not just a system user. He's got instincts too."
Kiyoko stepped over and handed them water.
She looked at Riku for a second longer than usual. "Whatever you're doing, it's working."
Riku gave her a half-smile. "Thanks. Just hope it holds."
Back on the court, Kurosawa's eyes had changed.
He wasn't just calculating anymore.
He was focused.
Like a real player.
The machine was learning how to *feel*.
And that… was terrifying.