Haikyuu: Zero To Almighty

With just one play, they reclaimed the serve from Oikawa Tōru—this was already the best start Irihata had achieved in all their practice matches so far.
"Iwa-chan...and Taichi too..." Oikawa smiled in resignation.
Aone Takanobu stepped up to the service line for Irihata.
Aone's powerful jump serve was received by Terushima YÅ«ji.
Without hesitation, Oikawa sent the ball to the right wing. Ushijima Wakatoshi soared.
A single blocker stuffed Ushijima's spike—Tendō Satori!
"Touch!" Tendō shouted to the back row.
Goshiki Tsutomu sprinted toward the sideline to save it, and Shirabu Kenjirō moved into position to set from the left wing.
Kaedehara Taichi charged from the back row and jumped explosively.
"Double block!" Kunimi Akira and Kindaichi Yūtarō had read the play perfectly this time, positioning themselves to block Kaedehara.
"Too bad, there's an opening~" Taichi smirked.
He aimed at the gap on Kunimi's left and unleashed a fierce spike with his left hand.
Powerful and precise, the ball hit just inside the left boundary of Team Washijō's court.
"Incredible…" Goshiki murmured.
Ever since Taichi had sought advice from Ushijima about generating power with his left arm, Goshiki had noticed his straight shots improving day by day.
It was one of the few skills Goshiki prided himself on being better at than Taichi...
"And now, what are you better at? Receiving?" Shirabu's blunt words pierced Goshiki's ears.
"Taichi is a first-year, just like you. That means he'll be your rival for the next three years," Shirabu added, locking eyes with Goshiki. "When Ushijima-san graduates, can you, as Shiratorizawa's ace, defeat the team he leads?"
"I…" Goshiki couldn't answer.
It was the first time Shirabu had called him the ace, but the recognition didn't bring joy.
Honestly,
His heart sank at the realization: this is the kind of opponent I'll be facing for the next three years?
"Goshiki, Coach Washijō has high hopes for you. So do we upperclassmen," Shirabu continued. "If there were no Taichi, we'd have time to help you grow at your own pace. Every player at Shiratorizawa is strong."
"But with Taichi as your opponent, you don't have the luxury of time." Shirabu's tone grew serious.
"Goshiki, you need to grow—both your skills and your mindset."
"Yes, Shirabu-senpai!" Goshiki's eyes burned with determination. He would live up to the team's expectations as their ace!
-----
Koganegawa Kanji watched from the sidelines in awe as Tendō blocked Ushijima's spike by himself.
"Hey, Koganegawa! Date Tech has its own blocking style!" Futakuchi Kenji scolded him.
"Yes, Futakuchi-senpai!" Koganegawa stammered, flustered.
"Wakatoshi, I'm fired up!" Tendō exclaimed to Ushijima.
"Hm?"
"I usually can't shut down your spikes, so it's not satisfying. It's boring, honestly." Tendō spun his fingers. "But today, I feel like winning against you might be fun!"
"I see," Ushijima replied, his expression unchanged.
"Exactly." Tendō grinned. "If I want to see you change, first I need to beat you."
-----
Aone's second serve launched into play.
Yamagata Hayato made a flawless receive, and Oikawa set to the right once more.
"What a ruthless setter," Tendō muttered. "Most setters would hesitate to keep sending to the same hitter if they hadn't scored, but if it's Wakatoshi, there's no issue."
A straightforward, unstoppable spike blasted past Tendō's block.
No one could block Ushijima 100% of the time—not even Tendō.
. Ushijima Wakatoshi approached the service line.
"Maintaining a lead against this lineup is tough," Futakuchi thought as he glanced back at Iwaizumi.
"What a resilient guy. Most liberos would crack after constantly facing Oikawa's and Ushijima's serves."
Ushijima's left-handed cannon shot barreled across the court. Iwaizumi Hajime moved sharply into position, lowering his stance and centre of gravity.
The ball struck his arm. Despite adjusting his angle for the reception, the tremendous power and spin overwhelmed him, making it difficult to control the rebound.
In the next instant, the ball ricocheted off his arm, struck his shoulder, and flew out of bounds.
Unfazed, Ushijima returned to the service line with his usual expressionless demeanour.
Iwaizumi shook out his reddened arm, a bitter expression on his face. The hard-earned two-point lead had vanished in the blink of an eye.
"Again!"
Iwaizumi readied himself once more.
Kaedehara Taichi didn't turn to look back. His role was simple—believe in Iwaizumi's ability to make the receive and focus on how to attack next.
The second cannon shot hurtled through the air, carrying even more vicious spin. After clearing the net, the ball dropped sharply.
Again, Ushijima prioritized power over control, targeting Iwaizumi.
Iwaizumi tracked the ball, and it slammed against his wrist.
"Need to get it high!"
He tensed his arm muscles and forced the ball upward as much as possible.
"I got it!" Shirabu Kenjirō sprinted toward the ball's trajectory and set it high near the net.
Tendō Satori leapt from the right side, preparing for a spike.
"Kindaichi! Stop him!"
The ball was close to the net and low. Kindaichi Yūtarō jumped straight up, fully extending his arm to block the angle, intending to simply keep the ball on the other side of the net.
But Tendō suddenly withdrew his spiking arm.
The ball hit Kindaichi's block and bounced directly into Irihata's court.
Kindaichi blinked, bewildered.
"???"
What just happened? Was that a free point?
The referee signalled a fault—over-the-net interference.
Point for Team Irihata.
"Perfect score!" Tendō spread his arms wide, revelling in the moment.
"Tendō's on fire today," Inubata Nobuteru chuckled, glancing at Coach Washijō. "You've got a keen eye for talent."
"Hmph." Washijō scoffed with a hint of pride.
Tendō's instinct-driven, intuitive playstyle thrived under Shiratorizawa's system only because it was built to accommodate both Ushijima's overwhelming presence and Washijō's precise, calculated coaching.
Before high school, Tendō's unconventional style had been met with rejection.
When his predictions were right, he shined. But when he missed, he became a glaring defensive liability.
Few coaches understood the inherent risk and reward of his gameplay—and even fewer gave him the freedom to explore it.
Coach Washijō was one of those rare individuals.
For most, Washijō's concept of strength boiled down to "height and power." But it went beyond that.
Some players had talent but didn't fit a team's dynamic, relegating them to the bench.
Others, like Shirabu Kenjirō and Tendō Satori—players seen as either too average or too eccentric by conventional coaches—were precisely the ones Washijō knew how to use effectively.
As Ushijima once said,
.
A team backed by an elite coach, state-of-the-art facilities, and top-tier players from across the region—it was an environment built for growth, where dreams turned into achievements.
Tendō knew one thing clearly:
.
That's why he had chosen a powerhouse team where freedom wasn't a privilege but a responsibility.
Shiratorizawa's high level of competition allowed for liberty. But with freedom came a demand for results.
Here, Tendō had finally found a place where he could unleash his full potential.
And for that, Tendō was grateful—to Shiratorizawa's system, to the overwhelming force that was Ushijima Wakatoshi, to the twisted genius of Coach Washijō, and to teammates who could have been aces at any other school.
He understood: Shiratorizawa accepted him because this was where he belonged.
University volleyball, though, would be different. His current freedom wouldn't last. The three years at Shiratorizawa were a fleeting miracle—
Which was why Tendō had already decided: his volleyball career would end in high school.
But before it did, he had one wish—to stand across the court from Ushijima Wakatoshi, the teammate who had defined his journey.
.