The sun blazed overhead, the sand scorching underfoot as the Inarizaki crew gathered along the shoreline, volleyball in hand.

The waves lapped lazily at the shore, a gentle backdrop to the chaos about to unfold. Everyone was excited for beach volleyball, but the optimism quickly collided with reality the moment the first serve went up.

Atsumu, ever the showman, took the first serve, leaping high into the air with perfect form—at least in theory.

In practice, his spike landed awkwardly, sending the ball careening off Osamu’s shoulder and into the sand.

Osamu groaned, dusting himself off, clearly frustrated yet trying not to laugh at his twin’s antics.

Atsumu, unbothered, laughed loudly, clapping his hands and readying for the next attempt, ignoring the fact that his perfect technique seemed to vanish when sand was involved.

Kita, ever composed, moved with calculated precision, trying to position himself correctly despite the shifting surface beneath his feet.

Each time he lunged for the ball, however, he slipped slightly, losing the balance he would have maintained effortlessly on a hard court.

His usual calm demeanor was punctuated by a soft grunt as he planted his feet, sand scattering in every direction. Even he couldn’t escape the chaotic energy of the beach.

Suna, leaning back with his usual casual aloofness, made a valiant attempt to keep the ball in play, but a sudden stumble sent him sprawling onto the sand.

His face remained stoic, but the small twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed the irritation and embarrassment.

Aran, towering and solid, tried to compensate for the missteps of the others, but even his imposing presence wasn’t enough to save the team from slipping, tripping, and losing the ball more often than not.

Every point was a battle not just with the opposing team but with the sand itself.

Players fell more than they scored, knees and palms coated with gritty grains, hair sticking to sweaty faces, and laughter—or frustrated groans—echoing over the crashing waves.

The twins seemed to thrive in the chaos, Atsumu screaming out each point with excitement while Osamu tried to maintain order, shouting reminders to watch positions and keep the ball in play, only to be ignored half the time.

By mid-game, everyone was coated in sand, sweat mixing with saltwater from the waves, and the competitive energy had shifted entirely into playful chaos.

Kita’s attempts to instruct were drowned out by Atsumu’s exuberant commentary and the occasional groan of Suna, who had clearly been shoved into the sand one too many times.

Aran, despite his towering presence and strength, found himself slipping and tumbling more than he would have liked, each movement an effort to stay upright in the unstable terrain.

Despite the repeated failures, the team couldn’t stop laughing. Each fall, each miss, each scramble for the ball brought a strange camaraderie that only beach volleyball could offer.

Sand-coated fingers tangled with determination, faces red from exertion and sun, and yet the energy remained infectious.

Even in the middle of a game that was technically “horrible,” there was joy, shared between teammates who refused to let a few spills ruin the fun.

As the sun began to dip closer to the horizon, casting golden light over the chaotic battlefield of sand and volleyballs, everyone collapsed into the sand, breathing heavily and laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

Atsumu flopped dramatically onto his back, Suna’s usual composure completely abandoned, and Kita shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Even Aran, the towering rock of stability, chuckled quietly, brushing sand from his uniform.

It had been a disaster in the most spectacular sense, but somehow, in the midst of the tumbling, falling, and misfired spikes, Inarizaki’s team had found a different kind of victory,

one of shared laughter, chaotic energy, and memories that would be retold countless times, each telling more exaggerated and more ridiculous than the last.