When I Told the Most Beautiful Girl in the School That My Confession Had Failed, She Suddenly Started Coming at Me With Unbearably Heavy Feelings

Chapter 34: Hero and Regression

The day of the ball sports tournament had finally arrived.

Amid the clashing cheers, we from Class 2-2 were dragged out to cheer for the girls’ basketball final taking place on the first court.

The score stood at 27 to 25. It was a chase with a two-point deficit, and less than a minute remained.

The opponents were Class 3-3, with three experienced players. Their team boasted polished passing and a high shooting success rate, but our Class 2-2 was no slouch either.

After all, she was at the center of the court.

“Rinne!”

A sharp pass, like threading a needle, reached Kisaragi. She caught the ball and charged straight into the opponent’s territory.

However, the opponents weren’t ignoring Kisaragi either. They positioned two defenders to sandwich her, restricting her movements. But,

“Manami-san!”

“Okay!”

Class 2-2 wasn’t a one-woman team for Kisaragi. The experienced Manami received the pass and advanced the ball further, circulating it until it returned to Kisaragi.

The defenders’ gazes locked entirely on Kisaragi.

“I’ll let you…!”

A defender blocked Kisaragi as she tried to cut toward the basket.

She feinted right, then glanced at Manami, who had dashed in on instinct.

Kisaragi aimed the ball in her hand toward Manami______

“Pass route! Block it______”

But that was a feint too.

The formation surrounding Kisaragi crumbled, and she didn’t miss the gap in the defenders, bewildered by the instant action.

She slipped past the defender in front and reached the three-point line. Kisaragi entered her shooting motion.

The ball released from Kisaragi’s hand traced a beautiful arc and sank into the goal.

The cheers fell silent as everyone watched the outcome. They prayed for victory on this shot that would decide the winner.

With a swish cutting through the air, Kisaragi’s shot rattled the net.

“Whaaaaaaaaa!”

The cheers erupted alongside the game-over call. The championship went splendidly to Class 2-2.

“Yay! Nice shot, Rinne!”

“It’s thanks to everyone. This puts us one step closer to the overall championship.”

I watched Kisaragi from afar as she got swept up in the circle of joy. Her brilliant performance up to this point was as expected.

There had been countless scenes where we won because of Kisaragi. Her ability to seize chances was nothing short of innate.

With this, Class 2-2 had drawn closer to the overall championship. I couldn’t afford to drag us down here. I had to psych myself up and face the final too.

“Renji! Get ready for the boys’ volleyball!”

“Yeah, coming now.”

“Hinate-kun!”

As I headed to prepare, Kisaragi’s voice called from behind.

Her flushed face broke into a gentle smile.

“Do your best. I’m cheering for you.”

“…Yeah. Watch me.”

Bearing Kisaragi’s expectations on my back, I started warming up.

The final opponents were Class 2-6. They were an outrageous team, packed mostly with experienced players.

However, we weren’t inferior.

Our team cohesion had been exceptional through the matches so far. We’d climbed by toppling even the third-year teams. We probably weren’t outmatched in overall strength.

“All right, the final at last!”

“We’ve come this far, so we’ve got no choice but to go all out!”

“Yeah. All of us, together, win.”

“Let’s not lose in spirit!”

“…We’ll definitely win.”

“Yeah. We can win this. Let’s get fired up!”

We huddled in a circle to psych up, and the match began.

The positions had Kira as setter. Up front: Ryuusaki, Amasaki, and Sendou. In the back: me and Nekomiya.

Mainly, Nekomiya, Amasaki, and I would receive and dig the ball, Kira would set the toss, and Sendou and Ryuusaki would spike. We’d build our fight around that formation.

It started with the opponent’s serve.

A jump serve launched from a high toss stabbed in sharply.

(A jump serve right off the bat…!)

“Nekomiya!”

“Got it…!”

Nekomiya barely dove to the landing spot and lifted the ball.

Kira used his trademark jumping power to set a toss without missing the ball near the net.

“Takayan!”

“Take thiiiis!!!”

Sendou’s swung right arm unleashed a spike. But the ball, deflected by the block, floated softly over to the opponent’s court.

Now it was the opponent’s turn to attack. We immediately reset our stances and prepared to receive.

“Hiiragi!”

(…! That guy’s a southpaw…!)

In volleyball, a southpaw was a seriously tricky presence. If you went for it with the sense for a right-handed spike, the spin difference would cause you to misplay it.

Adjusting your receive to match the left spin was tough for beginners.

I recalled a bit of that old sensation. The memory of desperately chasing and leaping for the ball on the court.

(Roar, my muscle memory…!)

“Here!”

“Renji!”

A fierce spike blasted from his swung left hand.

I clasped my hands firmly in receive form. Determined not to yield to the power, even if it killed me.

A high school volleyball was heavier than people thought. To counter its solid weight, you had to plant yourself steadily and form a surface to absorb the force.

Gritting my teeth against the dull pain, I bounced the ball back.

The ball ricocheted high toward the net edge. It was in a borderline spot for which side it would drop.

“Urgh… Kira!”

“Hyaaa!”

Kira leaped and slammed a powerful spike into the opponent’s court. The first point went to Class 2-2.

“Yes! Nice spike, me!”

“You dug that one, Renji! Whoa, your arm’s red!”

“This is definitely gonna bruise tomorrow…”

My arm throbbed with a prickling pain. A familiar ache.

“That team’s brutal, huh? Hiiragi’s spike was insane…”

“And they lifted that first serve solidly too…”

The underdog assessment had favored the opponents completely. But after seeing that play, it seemed the spectators’ views were starting to shift.

I glanced at the cheering section and saw Kisaragi and Amane, who had appeared at some point, looking smug. …Since when did those two get chummy?

Be that as it may, the match continued.

I’d felt some pressure hearing the opponents were full of experienced players, but thanks to that opening play, we managed to play freely.

But,

“Hah, take thiiiis!”

“Oh.”

“Spike incoming! Nekomiya!”

“Whoa…!”

The score reached 25 to 19. The momentum from midway didn’t hold to the end, and the first set went to Class 2-6.

We switched courts and, during the three-minute break, discussed strategy as a team.

“Man… Class 2-6 is tough…”

“…Somehow, our attacks aren’t getting through.”

“It feels like they’re just one step ahead overall…”

“…That too, but I think the blocks are the biggest problem, probably.”

Nekomiya muttered softly. That word, laced with certainty, hinted at some plan behind it.

“Read block? Right? They’re always closing the straight and trying to force crosses. It’s not impossible for beginner us to hit while watching the block, but technically it’s rough. And if we force a straight, it’ll drop or get one-touched and received.”

“So what do we do? We’ll lose like this!”

“It’s simple. …Hinate-kun, your turn.”

“…Me?”

“Yeah. Let’s swap positions between you and Amasaki-kun.”

“Wait a sec, how’s that gonna change anything?”

To Sendou’s question, Nekomiya answered with a smile. His eyes, brimming with clear trust, reflected my figure.

“Hinate-kun was on the volleyball team in middle school, right? And at a national level too.”

“Huh?”

“Whaaaaaaaaa!?”

“Wh-why do you…”

“Renji, you! Why didn’t you say something that huge!”

“No need to hide it, idiot!”