Haikyuu: Zero To Almighty
Author: IseeBlack
Chapter 556: We Want Taichi! (Double Length)
The match between Japan's Ryujin and Qatar's Al-Rayyan was about to begin.
"Ah—! Taichi's side has already tied the score!"
Komori Motoya had been following the Group A match closely.
"What's so surprising about that?"
Sakusa Kiyoomi said coldly. "If you watched the first set carefully, you'd know—Nizhnev simply isn't a match for Taichi."
"That's not quite right," Meian Shūgo chimed in as he reviewed footage of the first half of San Juan vs. Nizhnev's second set.
"Their blocking
strong. Even Taichi can't afford to ignore them. And don't forget—"
"Sakusa," Meian continued, "you're forgetting how we got completely crushed by Nizhnev half a year ago."
"It's different now," Sakusa's expression turned grim. "What disappoints me more is that we didn't get placed in the same group as them."
"If we had, I would've beaten them so badly they'd be picking their teeth off the floor!"
Meian looked at Sakusa with an odd expression. If Miya Atsumu or Bokuto Kōtarō had said something like that, he wouldn't have been surprised. But this was Sakusa Kiyoomi—arguably the most rational among the "monster generation."
This time, Komori didn't step in to tactfully rephrase Sakusa's words. Instead, he smiled the same fierce smile.
"I feel the same way!"
-----
The whistle for serve blew.
Kaedehara Taichi stepped up for his second serve.
The ball zipped across the court like a lightning bolt.
Yaku received it, though the pass was only semi-accurate.
"I told you—I won't let you win that easily!"
Kobzar calmly set it high to the right wing. Mikhail leapt to spike!
"Double block!" Ramos and Conte jumped together.
The ball sliced past Conte's right side and slammed into the sideline!
More than half of the ball had landed out—but as long as any part touched the line, it was in.
Mikhail scores!
Taichi stared deeply at Mikhail, expression calm as ever.
Serve returned to Nizhnev.
Mikhail stepped onto the service line.
For this critical point, San Juan set up a five-man receive formation for the first time.
The whistle blew.
Mikhail tossed the ball high, took his approach, leapt—and struck!
Santiago barely managed to dig it up.
"Oikawa!"
Conte roared as he charged down the right sideline to attack!
"Triple block!" Kobzar, Volvich, and Ivan all leapt together.
The ball struck Kobzar's left hand and bounced toward the sideline.
The spike pounded into the block and popped high. Bruno received it cleanly—Oikawa jumped for the set in the front row.
Conte charged down the right side again. But this time, Taichi jumped up from the left back row.
Obviously a decoy to pull blockers. Yet Nizhnev dared not ignore him—Oikawa was fully capable of delivering a precise set, and Taichi was always a threat from the back row.
Nizhnev's block scattered.
The ball landed squarely on Nizhnev's court.
Oikawa scores on a setter dump!
"That guy?!!"
Kobzar and Volvich were right in front of Oikawa, but their bodies were still shifting left to cover Taichi. With Volvich's height, he could have easily stuffed Oikawa's attack with just a small jump.
"Logically, this wasn't the right moment for a setter dump."
Oikawa spoke lightly.
"Which is exactly why it
the right moment!"
Score tied again.
Serve returned to San Juan.
Oikawa placed the ball in front of his chest and took a deep breath.
"
—"
His mind suddenly felt clear.
The whistle blew.
Oikawa tossed the ball, approached, leapt, and swung with taut arms.
The serve carried heavy sidespin, curving over the net in an arc.
Mikhail received it!
"Save it!!!"
Yaku flew into position. From being
to
Yaku had taken on more and more—his defensive range grew, and his intuition sharpened.
Yaku dove and barely kept the ball in play.
Final attack—Ivan leapt for the spike!
"Triple block!" Ramos, Conte, and Bruno all went up together.
A serve-block tactical trap!
At the very last second, Ivan pulled his arm back, tipping lightly off Conte's fingertips. Lacking confidence to force an out-of-bounds touch, he opted for a softer tip.
The ball bounced up off the block.
"What?! Are you kidding me?!"
Taichi soared from the back row!
"What's he thinking? The ball is high after the block—but—"
Nizhnev's players recalled that monster swing from the first set when Taichi smashed a 380 cm spike.
"Damn it!"
"We won't let you do it again!"
"Triple block!" Kobzar and Volvich jumped together, and even Ivan, just landing, bit down and jumped once more!
"So tense~"
A mocking glimmer appeared in Taichi's eyes.
The ball traced a gentle arc toward the far left.
Not a fast pass, nor a tricky one—but precisely because it was so "normal," Nizhnev's blockers couldn't catch it.
Oikawa from the back row—no blockers—pounded it down!
As if mocking them, Taichi's set completely toyed with Nizhnev's block.
San Juan scored consecutively!
"What kind of monster is he…?! How can he even make that kind of set?!"
San Juan to serve again.
Oikawa launched his second serve.
Yaku received it—pass only half-accurate.
Kobzar shifted left and pushed the ball all the way to the right wing—Ivan went up for the spike!
"Double block!" Ramos and Conte stayed tight.
The ball hit the block and dropped down—Yaku dove and saved it again!
Victor moved forward to set—the ball flew high to the centre. Volvich took off for the spike!
"Double block!"
Ramos and Conte stuck to him, but the ball shot just above the block.
Taichi calmly received it, though the pass was only semi-accurate!
A chorus of gasps erupted from the stands.
Oikawa quickly moved into position. San Juan's three front-row players all launched their approach at the same time!
"Who will it be?!"
Nizhnev's front-row players' minds raced at lightning speed.
There were no clues from Oikawa's set posture; they could only look for subtle cues among the approaching hitters.
"Damn it! Think—fast!"
: Typically a straight hitter, weak on cross-court, predictable approach angle.
: Former ace, a versatile hitter. His current run-up suggests a high middle ball—most likely candidate.
: Lowest threat level. Approach lacks intention—probably a decoy.
Can organise attacks from any angle, precise sets, and…nasty personality.
"Left wing!" Viktor and Mikhail shouted in unison.
"Huh?!"
Oikawa's eyes widened in mock surprise.
The ball flew high toward the left wing—Ramos leapt for the spike!
"Double block!" Viktor and Volvich both jumped.
Ramos fired a straight shot, the ball rebounding off Viktor's hands and bouncing high.
"Chance ball!"
Yaku easily picked it up, perfect first touch.
Kobzar jumped for a second-touch attack!
Conte went up alone to block.
"He's really going for it?!"
The ball shot past Conte's side.
Taichi calmly received it.
"Him again!!"
Nizhnev fans felt an overwhelming urge to throw their water bottles onto the court.
The ball deflected forward. Bruno stepped in to set, Conte charged up for the spike!
"Triple block!"
In the final moment, Nizhnev didn't abandon their greatest weapon.
A slightly off-the-net second-touch set, Conte's rapid jump transitions from blocking to attacking—everything combined to send the ball crashing back into San Juan's court.
Blocked!
Once again, Taichi dove and saved the ball!
Nizhnev fans' cheers froze in their throats.
Oikawa scrambled to set it precisely to the left wing—Ramos charged for a quick attack!
Viktor and Volvich desperately shifted left, leaping diagonally.
"Double block!"
Ramos's specialty—straight line!
The ball shot down the left sideline, smashing against Yaku's forearm.
The ball flew forward and out of bounds.
Ramos scored!
The whistle blew, signalling the end of the second set.
San Juan now led Nizhnev two sets to zero!
-----
During the set break, the entire audience seemed to instinctively do the same thing—pull out their phones to search:
Information on Taichi only dated back to his high school career. Early on, there were only a few scattered news clippings from local tournaments and a brief note about a narrow loss in nationals.
Kaedehara Taichi had essentially started volleyball from scratch in high school—and then gradually grew stronger. No—that's wrong. He grew stronger at a
speed. Now, what stood before them was an all-around, seemingly unstoppable player.
Even in those early criticisms about Taichi's weaknesses, one thing had always stayed the same—
"
to think such a genius was only discovered in high school…Japan's training system really isn't thorough enough. If he'd grown up in Argentina, I guarantee he'd have been dominating the world stage two,
—three years earlier," a San Juan fan said smugly.
"Argentina? Please," an Italian fan sneered. "If he were in Italy, we'd have won all the Club World Championships these past few years, no question."
As the fans argued passionately about
scenarios, no one seemed to spare a thought for the Russian supporters' feelings.
"Wait…Isn't he technically a foreign player?" A burly Russian fan stroked his big beard and muttered.
"I wonder if we can lure him to the Russian league next season…"
"Нам нужен Тайти! Тайти — наше оружие против мира!"
"Vogliamo Kaedehara Taichi! L'artista del campo deve essere con noi!"
"We desperately need Kaedehara Taichi! The court is incomplete without him!"
Suddenly, the arena erupted with chants in all kinds of languages, all calling for Kaedehara Taichi. The multilingual shouts became a chaotic chorus.
"楓原太一がほしい!戻ってきてタイチ!うちのチームに来てくれー!"
In the end, a shout in Japanese echoed from somewhere. The crowd froze for a beat—then burst into laughter.
The Argentine fans lounged back in their seats, feeling utterly relaxed for perhaps the first time.
At that moment, they felt as if they owned the entire world.
-----
"Man, you're
too popular," Conte muttered, his voice tinged with envy.
"
~" Taichi blinked innocently at him. "Conte doesn't want to be my teammate?"
"...Didn't say that," Conte replied, helpless.
"Right? Who could say no to the feeling of always winning?" Taichi laughed brightly, like sunlight itself.
Meanwhile, Nizhnev's players wore dark expressions, as though everyone in the arena had already decided they were doomed to lose.
"Let's go!"
Coach Maksim hesitated for a long time. He had once been a player himself and understood exactly how his athletes felt.
"Play your hearts out in the third set. You can lose the match—but win against
guy."
Of course, losing the first match of group stage wasn't ideal. But it was more important not to let it affect their mental state going forward. Coach Maksim was willing to sacrifice a set's result to give his players emotional relief.
Nizhnev's players all shouted in unison.
-----
The third set began. The players returned to the court.
.
.
.
.
San Juan to serve first. Conte stepped up to the service line.
"Ah—! Taichi's side has already tied the score!"
Komori Motoya had been following the Group A match closely.
"What's so surprising about that?"
Sakusa Kiyoomi said coldly. "If you watched the first set carefully, you'd know—Nizhnev simply isn't a match for Taichi."
"That's not quite right," Meian Shūgo chimed in as he reviewed footage of the first half of San Juan vs. Nizhnev's second set.
"Their blocking
strong. Even Taichi can't afford to ignore them. And don't forget—"
"Sakusa," Meian continued, "you're forgetting how we got completely crushed by Nizhnev half a year ago."
"It's different now," Sakusa's expression turned grim. "What disappoints me more is that we didn't get placed in the same group as them."
"If we had, I would've beaten them so badly they'd be picking their teeth off the floor!"
Meian looked at Sakusa with an odd expression. If Miya Atsumu or Bokuto Kōtarō had said something like that, he wouldn't have been surprised. But this was Sakusa Kiyoomi—arguably the most rational among the "monster generation."
This time, Komori didn't step in to tactfully rephrase Sakusa's words. Instead, he smiled the same fierce smile.
"I feel the same way!"
-----
The whistle for serve blew.
Kaedehara Taichi stepped up for his second serve.
The ball zipped across the court like a lightning bolt.
Yaku received it, though the pass was only semi-accurate.
"I told you—I won't let you win that easily!"
Kobzar calmly set it high to the right wing. Mikhail leapt to spike!
"Double block!" Ramos and Conte jumped together.
The ball sliced past Conte's right side and slammed into the sideline!
More than half of the ball had landed out—but as long as any part touched the line, it was in.
Mikhail scores!
Taichi stared deeply at Mikhail, expression calm as ever.
Serve returned to Nizhnev.
Mikhail stepped onto the service line.
For this critical point, San Juan set up a five-man receive formation for the first time.
The whistle blew.
Mikhail tossed the ball high, took his approach, leapt—and struck!
Santiago barely managed to dig it up.
"Oikawa!"
Conte roared as he charged down the right sideline to attack!
"Triple block!" Kobzar, Volvich, and Ivan all leapt together.
The ball struck Kobzar's left hand and bounced toward the sideline.
The spike pounded into the block and popped high. Bruno received it cleanly—Oikawa jumped for the set in the front row.
Conte charged down the right side again. But this time, Taichi jumped up from the left back row.
Obviously a decoy to pull blockers. Yet Nizhnev dared not ignore him—Oikawa was fully capable of delivering a precise set, and Taichi was always a threat from the back row.
Nizhnev's block scattered.
The ball landed squarely on Nizhnev's court.
Oikawa scores on a setter dump!
"That guy?!!"
Kobzar and Volvich were right in front of Oikawa, but their bodies were still shifting left to cover Taichi. With Volvich's height, he could have easily stuffed Oikawa's attack with just a small jump.
"Logically, this wasn't the right moment for a setter dump."
Oikawa spoke lightly.
"Which is exactly why it
the right moment!"
Score tied again.
Serve returned to San Juan.
Oikawa placed the ball in front of his chest and took a deep breath.
"
—"
His mind suddenly felt clear.
The whistle blew.
Oikawa tossed the ball, approached, leapt, and swung with taut arms.
The serve carried heavy sidespin, curving over the net in an arc.
Mikhail received it!
"Save it!!!"
Yaku flew into position. From being
to
Yaku had taken on more and more—his defensive range grew, and his intuition sharpened.
Yaku dove and barely kept the ball in play.
Final attack—Ivan leapt for the spike!
"Triple block!" Ramos, Conte, and Bruno all went up together.
A serve-block tactical trap!
At the very last second, Ivan pulled his arm back, tipping lightly off Conte's fingertips. Lacking confidence to force an out-of-bounds touch, he opted for a softer tip.
The ball bounced up off the block.
"What?! Are you kidding me?!"
Taichi soared from the back row!
"What's he thinking? The ball is high after the block—but—"
Nizhnev's players recalled that monster swing from the first set when Taichi smashed a 380 cm spike.
"Damn it!"
"We won't let you do it again!"
"Triple block!" Kobzar and Volvich jumped together, and even Ivan, just landing, bit down and jumped once more!
"So tense~"
A mocking glimmer appeared in Taichi's eyes.
The ball traced a gentle arc toward the far left.
Not a fast pass, nor a tricky one—but precisely because it was so "normal," Nizhnev's blockers couldn't catch it.
Oikawa from the back row—no blockers—pounded it down!
As if mocking them, Taichi's set completely toyed with Nizhnev's block.
San Juan scored consecutively!
"What kind of monster is he…?! How can he even make that kind of set?!"
San Juan to serve again.
Oikawa launched his second serve.
Yaku received it—pass only half-accurate.
Kobzar shifted left and pushed the ball all the way to the right wing—Ivan went up for the spike!
"Double block!" Ramos and Conte stayed tight.
The ball hit the block and dropped down—Yaku dove and saved it again!
Victor moved forward to set—the ball flew high to the centre. Volvich took off for the spike!
"Double block!"
Ramos and Conte stuck to him, but the ball shot just above the block.
Taichi calmly received it, though the pass was only semi-accurate!
A chorus of gasps erupted from the stands.
Oikawa quickly moved into position. San Juan's three front-row players all launched their approach at the same time!
"Who will it be?!"
Nizhnev's front-row players' minds raced at lightning speed.
There were no clues from Oikawa's set posture; they could only look for subtle cues among the approaching hitters.
"Damn it! Think—fast!"
: Typically a straight hitter, weak on cross-court, predictable approach angle.
: Former ace, a versatile hitter. His current run-up suggests a high middle ball—most likely candidate.
: Lowest threat level. Approach lacks intention—probably a decoy.
Can organise attacks from any angle, precise sets, and…nasty personality.
"Left wing!" Viktor and Mikhail shouted in unison.
"Huh?!"
Oikawa's eyes widened in mock surprise.
The ball flew high toward the left wing—Ramos leapt for the spike!
"Double block!" Viktor and Volvich both jumped.
Ramos fired a straight shot, the ball rebounding off Viktor's hands and bouncing high.
"Chance ball!"
Yaku easily picked it up, perfect first touch.
Kobzar jumped for a second-touch attack!
Conte went up alone to block.
"He's really going for it?!"
The ball shot past Conte's side.
Taichi calmly received it.
"Him again!!"
Nizhnev fans felt an overwhelming urge to throw their water bottles onto the court.
The ball deflected forward. Bruno stepped in to set, Conte charged up for the spike!
"Triple block!"
In the final moment, Nizhnev didn't abandon their greatest weapon.
A slightly off-the-net second-touch set, Conte's rapid jump transitions from blocking to attacking—everything combined to send the ball crashing back into San Juan's court.
Blocked!
Once again, Taichi dove and saved the ball!
Nizhnev fans' cheers froze in their throats.
Oikawa scrambled to set it precisely to the left wing—Ramos charged for a quick attack!
Viktor and Volvich desperately shifted left, leaping diagonally.
"Double block!"
Ramos's specialty—straight line!
The ball shot down the left sideline, smashing against Yaku's forearm.
The ball flew forward and out of bounds.
Ramos scored!
The whistle blew, signalling the end of the second set.
San Juan now led Nizhnev two sets to zero!
-----
During the set break, the entire audience seemed to instinctively do the same thing—pull out their phones to search:
Information on Taichi only dated back to his high school career. Early on, there were only a few scattered news clippings from local tournaments and a brief note about a narrow loss in nationals.
Kaedehara Taichi had essentially started volleyball from scratch in high school—and then gradually grew stronger. No—that's wrong. He grew stronger at a
speed. Now, what stood before them was an all-around, seemingly unstoppable player.
Even in those early criticisms about Taichi's weaknesses, one thing had always stayed the same—
"
to think such a genius was only discovered in high school…Japan's training system really isn't thorough enough. If he'd grown up in Argentina, I guarantee he'd have been dominating the world stage two,
—three years earlier," a San Juan fan said smugly.
"Argentina? Please," an Italian fan sneered. "If he were in Italy, we'd have won all the Club World Championships these past few years, no question."
As the fans argued passionately about
scenarios, no one seemed to spare a thought for the Russian supporters' feelings.
"Wait…Isn't he technically a foreign player?" A burly Russian fan stroked his big beard and muttered.
"I wonder if we can lure him to the Russian league next season…"
"Нам нужен Тайти! Тайти — наше оружие против мира!"
"Vogliamo Kaedehara Taichi! L'artista del campo deve essere con noi!"
"We desperately need Kaedehara Taichi! The court is incomplete without him!"
Suddenly, the arena erupted with chants in all kinds of languages, all calling for Kaedehara Taichi. The multilingual shouts became a chaotic chorus.
"楓原太一がほしい!戻ってきてタイチ!うちのチームに来てくれー!"
In the end, a shout in Japanese echoed from somewhere. The crowd froze for a beat—then burst into laughter.
The Argentine fans lounged back in their seats, feeling utterly relaxed for perhaps the first time.
At that moment, they felt as if they owned the entire world.
-----
"Man, you're
too popular," Conte muttered, his voice tinged with envy.
"
~" Taichi blinked innocently at him. "Conte doesn't want to be my teammate?"
"...Didn't say that," Conte replied, helpless.
"Right? Who could say no to the feeling of always winning?" Taichi laughed brightly, like sunlight itself.
Meanwhile, Nizhnev's players wore dark expressions, as though everyone in the arena had already decided they were doomed to lose.
"Let's go!"
Coach Maksim hesitated for a long time. He had once been a player himself and understood exactly how his athletes felt.
"Play your hearts out in the third set. You can lose the match—but win against
guy."
Of course, losing the first match of group stage wasn't ideal. But it was more important not to let it affect their mental state going forward. Coach Maksim was willing to sacrifice a set's result to give his players emotional relief.
Nizhnev's players all shouted in unison.
-----
The third set began. The players returned to the court.
.
.
.
.
San Juan to serve first. Conte stepped up to the service line.