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Spring High – Prefectural Final Qualifiers – Girls’ Finals
Immediately After the End of Set 1
From the Perspective of Matsubara Girls’ High
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In volleyball, the court sides are switched after each set.
Now, gathered in front of the bench where Himesaki’s coach, staff, and players had been sitting during Set 1, were the members of the Matsubara Girls’ volleyball team.
The match had turned out to be one with a wider score gap than expected—and more than the gap, the difference in ability had been made painfully clear.
Especially harsh balls had been directed at Hina, and the fact that they kept going to Hina could be taken as a direct message to Mirai: “Your setups don’t scare us.” Both girls looked pale.
And it showed in their play.
As the point gap widened, Mirai’s tosses became lower and faster.
It was an attempt to avoid the block—not necessarily a wrong choice in itself. Low, fast tosses aren’t bad. But aside from their ace Yuuri, the rest of the team had unusually high hitting points for high school girls. That should’ve been a rare and powerful weapon. Yet, they were choosing to discard it. Fast tosses are fine—but only if they’re in sync with the spiker. Otherwise, they’re meaningless.
Hina’s performance grew duller with every passing receive error.
In the latter half of Set 1, while in the front row, she stopped even making a run-up for spikes she normally would’ve gone for. Generally speaking, players who are out of position after the first touch won’t go for a spike approach.
However, even if a spike doesn’t come, making the approach can serve as a decoy and confuse blockers.
Matsubara’s strategy involved a two-setter system, where three spikers were always in the front—left, center, and right—making it unclear where the real attack would come from, increasing the success rate of the actual spike.
That’s why, even if it’s a stretch—even if the decoy is obvious—they’re supposed to go for the run-up. It boosts the effectiveness of the others and, by extension, the whole team. Hina knew that, but knowing and feeling are not always the same.
Even though the match wasn’t over yet, the heavy mood after losing Set 1 was broken by a carefree voice that echoed through the bench.
“Well now. Himesaki’s really strong. Or maybe the word is… brutal?”
The speaker was a girl with such a slender frame it made one wonder if she was even an athlete.
“You’re right, Yuuri. Last time, I was the one being targeted, so I didn’t really notice… but watching from the side, it’s rough. Hina, Mirai—are you two okay?”
The one who responded to Yuuri’s airy voice was Reiko, unusually tall for a girl.
“Honestly, if Hina-nee can’t get it, then nobody but Yuki on our team could either. So you don’t need to worry about it, Hina-nee.”
Yuuri spoke with a laugh and a casual tone.
Her usual inability to read the room—paired with her optimism even now—eased the tension slightly. The atmosphere lightened a little.
But—
If even one of her sisters, or one of her longtime friends, or her normally level-headed younger sister had been there, they would’ve noticed it immediately.
They would’ve known, just from the tone of her voice—Yuuri was quietly angry.
But those present were mostly teammates she’d only known since high school, or girls who, despite sometimes eating and sleeping alongside her, were now too overwhelmed to notice.
Still, the ace continued:
“So, about the next set—I’ve got a good idea.”
She paused briefly before continuing:
“Send every ball to me. I’ll call for every one. I’ll hit them all. When I’m in the front row, just toss it high and close to the net. When I’m in the back row, toss it high near the attack line. Leave the rest to me.”
She declared it with a bright smile.
No one noticed the anger hidden in her eyes and voice.
(Just toss it high. I’ll handle the rest, huh…)
Saeki, the team’s faculty advisor and coach, considered the ace’s words.
What she’d said—every volleyball player has probably dreamed of saying that at least once.
And for her—someone who could spike on par with the pros, even among male players—she had the right to say it.
What she said wasn’t wrong.
…Or so she thought.
In Set 1, ten balls had been tossed to her. All ten were basic open tosses. Normally, basic open spikes like that, with no variation, would be easily blocked.
Yet she’d scored on eight of them.
An 80% success rate on spikes—an astounding number. In girls’ volleyball, unless there’s a massive skill gap, even with quicks and combo plays, a 50% success rate is considered good.
Even so…
Even so, it might not be the right answer. But she had to say it anyway.
“Hold on, Yuuri. That’s our last resort. I’ve always said this: ‘You can’t do in a match what you haven’t practiced.’ And the latter half starts with your serve. So you’ll be in the back row for a while. As far as I know, your back-row attacks have only ever been practiced when the setter couldn’t make it—meaning second-ball situations only. So tell me—do you really think your improvised back attack is a more effective strategy than the hundreds of practiced spikes your teammates have done?”
She was well aware that her wording was a little sharp. She said it knowing Yuuri wouldn’t agree—because she was kind at heart and would never claim her solo efforts were better than the team’s.
That’s exactly why she spoke confidently about the strategy she believed in.
Volleyball through high school. When she was a player, what kind of coaching had helped her most?
The kind where the coach clearly pointed out the path ahead—“This is the way to go.”
That belief was her foundation. That’s why she couldn’t offer guidance she didn’t believe in.
She got it wrong back in June. And they lost.
But now, she was different.
—“Even we make mistakes.”—
That’s what her colleague, Uesugi-sensei, once told her.
Maybe this was a mistake. But maybe it wasn’t. That’s why she would speak with confidence—as a teacher, as a coach—to show her players the way.
“Besides, we don’t need to rely on strange tactics. Our offense is working. Right, Uesugi-sensei?”
“…Whether it’s working or not is hard to say, but out of the 16 total points, 8 came from Yuuri’s spikes, 1 from her serve, 5 from Reiko’s spikes, and 2 from Asuka’s.”
“Those who joined in summer might not know, but back in June, we got completely shut down. Only Yuuri’s attacks worked. But now it’s different. Half of our points came from others. Our offense does work.”
“…Still, we lost Set 1. Doesn’t that mean something has to change?”
Mirai countered. Coach Saeki responded gently.
“If anything needs to change, it’s this: ‘Make what worked in practice work in the match.’ Mirai, haven’t you noticed? Your tosses are getting sloppy. Reiko, Asuka, and Kaori are doing a good job covering for you, so it might look fine—but try giving them easier balls to hit.”
“…”
Mirai fell silent—perhaps she was aware.
“Hina, same for you. No matter how tough it gets, don’t skip your run-ups. Don’t stop calling for the ball. Having three front-row spikers puts pressure on the opponent. Even if you don’t spike, attacks from the left or center become easier. Understand?”
“…Yes.”
Hina also nodded honestly, likely aware herself.
“We’ve only lost the first set. There’s still plenty of time to turn it around. Remember your practice. Trust in what we’ve built over the past four months since this team came together in August. I’m not asking you to do what you’ve never done. ‘Give it your all with what you can do.’ ‘Don’t be afraid to fail.’ ‘Call out.’ Do what you always do. And if we still lose, then fine—we lost because they were better. But right now, we haven’t even stepped onto the battlefield. Show them that Matsubara Girls’ is strong. Got it?”
““““Yes!””””
The players responded to Coach Saeki’s call just as the whistle blew.
The second set was about to begin.
“Oh, and one more thing. I always say not to do what we haven’t practiced—but if it’s something you have practiced, even secretly behind my back… go ahead and use it.”
A few players flinched.
“Um, Coach…”
“Go on. The match is starting.”
Cutting off whatever a player was about to say, Coach Saeki sent them out onto the court.
And from here, Matsubara Girls’ High’s counterattack would begin.
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