A whole week of pure toil and extreme sweat passed by. Seven days of agony that seemed to never end between the school desks and the gym floor. Every single day, as soon as I crossed the threshold of the building, the blue interface of the System welcomed me with the usual survival mission. Sugawara continued to grind my fundamentals with infinite patience, explaining how to position my fingers and how to cushion the weight of the ball. I was beginning to notice deep changes in the way I moved because my coordination was finally improving.
"Yuya, don't just look at the ball with those haunted eyes, use your legs too!" Sugawara shouted at me during a receiving drill. I tried to answer him, but the only thing that came out of my mouth was an indistinct noise. Nishinoya, who was nearby, burst out laughing, giving me a slap on the back so hard it almost made me spit out my lungs. "Come on, Yuya! If you don't move, you look like a newborn giraffe trying to walk on ice!" the libero exclaimed, hopping around as if he didn't know the meaning of fatigue.
Movements that previously seemed impossible were becoming fluid and natural. I had formed a special bond with Nishinoya, who, with his contagious energy, had taught me the secrets of the perfect receive. He told me that I had to feel the weight of my body shifting downward to be stable. With Tsukishima and Asahi, the relationship remained cordial but very detached. One day I tried to ask Tsukishima for advice on blocking, but he looked down at me, adjusting his glasses. "Oh, the newcomer wants advice? I thought you were too busy staring into space with that intense look," he said with his usual sarcastic tone. I didn't care at all about his bitterness because I was totally focused on my goal of growth.
On the last day of the week, while I was wiping my neck after a session of sprints, I called up my User Status.
[USER STATUS ANALYZED]Name: Yuya Kazuki Height: 184 cm Role: None (Beginner) Sharingan: 12/100 (1 Tomoe) Physical Strength: 12 Agility: 12 Endurance: 11
The numbers shined before my eyes, showing me that I had finally reached 11 points across all physical stats. Strength twelve, endurance eleven, and agility twelve. The Sharingan was still stuck at the first tomoe, but now I could activate it for about 5 minutes without risking a blackout. My endurance was more than double what I had at the beginning, and this made me feel almost powerful.
I felt ready, or at least I thought so, until I heard Professor Takeda's voice echoing through the gym.
"This may be a bit sudden, but the Inter-High preliminaries will start on June 2nd."
Silence fell instantly over the entire court, and even the sound of bouncing balls stopped. Coach Ukai took a step forward, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at us with extreme seriousness.
"In Miyagi, there are no district rounds, so we go straight to the prefecturals. There are about 60 teams, but only one will go to the Nationals."
He took a short pause to let those words sink into our minds before continuing his speech.
"A single defeat and you don't go any further. If you want to have your revenge against Nekoma, there is no other way than to come in first here in Miyagi. Well, obviously, that's only if Nekoma comes in first in Tokyo as well."
I turned to look at Hinata and Kageyama, who were standing right next to me at that moment. They emanated an incredible pressure that seemed almost like static electricity in the air. Their desire to win was fierce and saturated every inch of the gym. I stared at their expressions, filled with a longing for victory that I had never seen in any other human being. We spent the rest of the afternoon training with redoubled grit as the sun began to set.
At one point, Nishinoya came running with a magazine in his hand to show the whole team a photo of an imposing player. It was Ushijima Wakatoshi. "Look at those biceps! They look like they're made of granite!" Tanaka shouted, leaning toward the magazine. Nishinoya explained that he was among the three or four most promising players of the year in all of Japan and that his strength was legendary. Ukai immediately intervened to calm us down, explaining that he wasn't the only opponent to keep an eye on in that tournament. He named Date Kogyo with its iron wall and Wakutami Minami with its extreme defense, eventually getting to Aoba Johsai. When the coach pronounced the name of Oikawa Toru, I saw Shoyo visibly shiver as he yelled "The... The Grand King!" with a face that was halfway between terror and excitement.
As Ukai's explanation was ending, he told us that this year we would no longer be called the "fallen crows" or the "fallen champions." Just then, supervisor Takeda entered the gym out of breath, his face flushed, announcing that the official brackets had been published. "I have it! Here is our destiny!" he shouted, showing a paper where our first opponents were listed as Tokonami, but our seed's top team was Aoba Johsai. The news only increased the excitement of my senpais, who were already looking forward to the challenge against the best in the prefecture.
I, however, was worried about my personal stats. In the following days, we all trained with a fury never seen before, and I pushed my body beyond every limit. My days had become an endless cycle of pain and calculation. Waking up at dawn, running, school, training, a quick dinner, and studying my teammates' movements. I noticed, however, that after reaching 15 points, progress began to slow down drastically. The System only awarded me zero point five points for each successfully completed mission. The more my strength increased, the harder it was to tear away even a small advancement toward the top.
"What's going on? Why isn't the bar rising anymore?" I cursed under my breath after a set of push-ups.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Biological adaptation threshold reached. The efficiency of standard training has decreased.]
[DAILY MISSION REWARD: +0.5 Physical Strength, +0.5 Endurance, +0.5 Agility.]
"Damn it," I cursed to myself while trying to catch my breath during a break. The stronger I became, the more the System demanded of me. I felt my muscles constantly tense, but I couldn't stop. Not now that I knew that "monsters" like Kageyama operated on an average of 25.
Among those who were putting in the most effort in those days was Kiyoko, who never stopped for a second.
One afternoon, shortly before the end of practice, Professor Takeda and Kiyoko entered the court with a solemn bearing. They held something long and rolled up in their hands. Coach Ukai signaled everyone to stop.
"Everyone, pay attention," Takeda-sensei said with an encouraging smile.
Kiyoko took a step forward. It was rare for her to take the initiative in front of everyone, and the silence that fell over the gym was absolute. With the professor's help, she unrolled a large black banner along the upper balcony railing.
On the pitch-black background, two large white characters stood out, traced with powerful and decisive calligraphy: FLY.
We were all left breathless. That black banner wasn't just a piece of cloth; it was our identity. It was the cry of a team that had been called the "flightless crows" and was now about to take back the sky. I felt a chill run down my spine.
With Takeda's help, she unrolled it from the upper balcony in front of us. Above that dark fabric, "Fly" was written with imposing and beautiful white characters. It was a magical moment that gave us an incredible emotional boost. Hinata started jumping like crazy while Tanaka and Nishinoya started crying, shouting promises of absolute victory to Kiyoko, who simply gave a small and rare smile that almost made us all faint.
"I found it while I was tidying up..." Kiyoko whispered, her cheeks slightly flushed. Then, taking a deep breath, she added in a low voice: "...Do your best."
It was like setting off a powder keg. Hinata began to cry with emotion; Tanaka and Nishinoya were screaming like madmen, swearing to conquer the world. I remained silent, staring at that "Fly."
In the meantime, I continued to question my real abilities. During a break, I mentally asked the system what the average statistic of elite high school volleyball players in that category was. The answer was a blow to the heart. The system told me that the average of the best was 25 points. I was still far from that level, despite having slaughtered myself with fatigue every single day of the week.
Thanks to the Sharingan, which I could now keep active for longer, I was able to almost perfectly copy the technical movements of my teammates. I saw the rotation of Tanaka's wrist and the position of Hinata's legs, but my body was not yet able to execute those movements with their same explosive force or speed. I was like a pilot who knows the perfect trajectory but drives a car that is too slow to follow it.
"I have to become faster, I have to overcome this limit of fifteen points," I promised myself, looking at the black banner above me. June 2nd was just around the corner, and I didn't want to be a bystander in that tournament.
In the following days, the intensity became insane. I started doing extra sessions at night, defying the darkness of the street near my house to run short sprints.
Endurance 16.5... Strength 17.0...
Every tenth of a point was a battle won against exhaustion. During official practices, I started talking more with Nishinoya. He taught me to "feel" the air moved by the ball. I used the Sharingan to analyze his diving trajectory, trying to understand how he managed to be everywhere at the same time.
June 2nd was approaching like a storm on the horizon. The System continued to remind me of the gap: 17 against 25. But as I looked at the black cloth hanging in the gym, I knew that the numbers were only part of the story.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[CURRENT PHYSICAL STATUS: 18.5 (Weighted Average)]
[WARNING: The body is reaching its breaking point. Pre-race rest is advised.]
"No rest," I murmured, wiping away the sweat that burned my eyes. "I want to reach that damn 25."