The gym buzzed with energy as Inarizaki’s players moved across the court, the echoing thuds of volleyballs hitting the floor and the sharp smacks of spikes against hands filling the air.
Today’s practice was intense, a focused session to explore different attack patterns and discover openings that could give the team an edge in upcoming matches.
Every movement had purpose, every glance was measured, and the atmosphere was charged with the kind of competitive tension only a high-caliber team like Inarizaki could generate.
Atsumu Miya dominated the left side of the court, his spikes lightning-quick and aggressive, each one followed by his characteristic loud exclamation that seemed to electrify everyone around him.
His brother, Osamu, mirrored his intensity on the right, precise and calculated, demonstrating the subtle ways a seasoned player could manipulate a set to keep opponents guessing.
The twins’ synergy was almost instinctive; their understanding of each other’s timing and positioning made every drill seamless, as though they shared a silent language only they could comprehend.
Shinsuke Kita, the calm and authoritative setter, orchestrated the patterns with his usual quiet control.
His sharp eyes scanned the court continuously, noting the slightest misstep, the smallest opening, and subtly adjusting the team’s formation.
Even in the chaos of rapid-fire drills, his presence grounded the team, giving structure to their explosive energy.
Each set he delivered was precise, perfectly timed, and executed with an almost surgical precision, allowing the hitters to showcase their skills to maximum effect.
Suna Rintarō moved fluidly along the middle, reading the court with uncanny awareness. Every time a spike approached him for a block drill, he positioned himself flawlessly, adjusting his hands and stance to redirect attacks or create openings for counters.
He communicated efficiently with Kita and the twins, a few words or subtle gestures enough to coordinate complex movements that made the practice feel both fluid and exacting.
Aran Ojiro, towering and commanding, worked on perfecting his spikes and attacks with careful attention to timing and positioning.
His movements were powerful and controlled, his towering presence forcing everyone around him to adjust, keeping the drills challenging for both hitters and blockers.
Even when the twins attempted to throw off his rhythm, he remained steady, embodying the type of reliability that made him a cornerstone of Inarizaki’s offense.
The drills were relentless.
Sets and spikes flew in rapid succession, and yet there was a rhythm to the chaos. Every attack pattern tested a different scenario: quick sets to the middle, cross-court spikes, deceptive tips over the blockers’ hands.
The Miya twins’ energy was explosive, pushing the rest of the team to respond faster, adapt quicker, and refine their techniques.
Kita’s steady control ensured no drill went astray, subtly correcting positioning or timing with a quiet word or a slight adjustment of his hands.
Even as sweat slicked foreheads and muscles burned from continuous motion, the team thrived. Each player elevated the others, every drill honing instinct, timing, and precision.
The synergy between the explosive energy of the Miya twins, the calm authority of Kita, the sharp awareness of Suna, and the towering presence of Aran created a practice that was both exhausting and exhilarating.
It was the kind of focused intensity that promised real results in upcoming matches, a reminder that Inarizaki was a team that didn’t just rely on talent—they honed it, together, with discipline and relentless energy.
By the end of the session, the gym hummed with the quiet buzz of fatigue and accomplishment.
Every player had pushed themselves, tested boundaries, and explored new combinations. The attack patterns were sharper, the timing tighter, and the confidence palpable.
*Inarizaki’s energy was unyielding, and under Kita’s meticulous guidance, the team had taken another step