[68] Grade 11: Spring National High School Competition
The brief clash did not last long, and both teams walked towards the stands with mixed feelings.
After they settled into their respective areas and waited, another form of confrontation, more open and intense, began in the stands.
The support group for Tsurumeikan High School was already famous for its long-standing Kyoto classical style during the IH national stage.
They don't win by shouting and frenzied movements, but by a sense of ritual and synergy that carries the weight of history.
After two semesters of dedicated practice and refinement following the IH national tour, the support at Heming Hall has reached its pinnacle.
They wore traditional style support outfits with a white base and embroidered with dark gold crane patterns. Their movements were perfectly synchronized, and the opening and closing angles of their support fans seemed to have been measured with a ruler.
The drumbeats are not wild pounding, but rather steady strikes with a certain ancient rhythm.
Accompanied by the deep, powerful sound of the Kyoto taiko drum, the penetrating sound of the zaukura drum, and the members' clear voices singing the Tsurumeikan school song with its unique ancient capital flavor.
Their momentum was not like an erupting volcano, but rather like a calm and wide river, spreading out with undeniable power and order, instantly overwhelming the noise in the stadium and completely turning this half of the stands into their home ground.
As for their opponents, the Inarisaki High School cheering squad from Hyogo Prefecture, they were a completely different entity.
If Tsurumeikan represents the serene and profound "elegance," then Inarizaki embodies the unrestrained and passionate "chaos," and is "charm."
Their style is bold, innovative, highly provocative, and disciplined.
Inarizaki's support is more like a meticulously choreographed and glamorous performance, full of improvisational jazz elements, complex multi-part chanting, and visually striking group movements.
Their conducting is like that of an orchestra conductor; they can not only stir the emotions of the entire audience, but also cleverly use the rhythm of the opponent's cheers to incorporate it into their own performance for counterattacks or banter. Their adaptability and aggressiveness are top-notch.
Their very existence is a powerful psychological weapon.
When these two very different yet equally powerful support groups met again in the stands of the Spring High School semi-finals, a silent war instantly erupted.
The ancient chants from Heming Pavilion surged in like a tidal wave, attempting to dominate the world with their unyielding and majestic presence, overwhelming everything else.
Inarizaki's jazz trumpet immediately burst in with a bright and cheerful rhythm, accompanied by the saxophone's lazy and playful glissando, instantly breaking the solemn atmosphere and turning the competition venue into their performance space.
The support team members of Heming Pavilion waved their support fans in coordinated movements, and their chanting was elegant and uniform, creating a powerful sense of pressure.
Inarizaki's cheerleading squad immediately responded with more complex and varied waves and formation changes, their slogans were novel and interesting, their movements were energetic, and their infectiousness easily attracted the attention of neutral spectators.
One side attempted to control the rhythm of the game by leveraging the historical and orderly heritage of the ancient capital, exerting pressure with a silent yet powerful presence.
The other side, with its Kansai-style unrestrained modern enthusiasm and ingenuity, attempted to disrupt and undermine the opponent's authority, steer the game in its own rhythm.
The shouts from both sides rose and fell, each trying to overpower the other, yet strangely intertwined, creating an incredibly intense atmosphere.
This has long transcended simple cheering and support, becoming an alternative contest of styles, philosophies, and even regional cultures outside the competition arena.
And this was just the beginning of the Spring High School semi-finals.
——————
In this highly anticipated semifinal match of the Spring High School Basketball League – the ultimate showdown between Inarisaki and Tsurumeikan – the results were revealed after a draw by the referees:
Heming Hall served first.
The atmosphere in the entire stadium instantly became tense.
Under the watchful eyes of countless people, Imaichi Kawa, the setter and core player of the Heming Hall team, calmly stepped onto the service court.
Imaichi Chuan bent slightly, habitually checking the feel of the volleyball with his fingertips, his face still calm and gentle.
He always had this gentle and non-aggressive demeanor. Strangers who didn't know him well might be fooled by his mild appearance.
But his opponents never let their guard down.
This weightless, detached gaze actually made them tense up.
High up in the stands, the members of the Sound Horse team were closely watching every detail on the field.
Kuroo leaned forward and nudged Yoru beside him with his elbow, his voice low but firm:
"There's no need to make a bet at all."
His gaze, however, was fixed on Imadegawa's every move.
"As long as Heming Hall starts, their school's coach will definitely put their setter in position one."
Their goal was clear: to completely suppress their opponents from the very first second and seize the advantage at the start.
This is the unchanging starting point of the Crane Pavilion, and also their way of declaring their dominance.
Ye Jiu crossed his arms and nodded solemnly.
He already knew from the video that Imadegawa's serve was a threat.
“After all,” Yoru’s voice deepened, revealing a hint of confidence in Imadegawa’s serve, “based on the existing data from Tsurumeikan’s matches, Imadegawa’s serve can at least secure five consecutive points for Tsurumeikan.”
He paused for a moment:
"In the years before he appeared, the highest opening score record that the ace servers of those national teams could achieve was only three points in all matches."
Five points to three points.
This seemingly small point difference, in the early stages of semi-finals where teams of Inarizaki and Tsurumeikan's caliber fight for every inch of ground, can become a huge advantage that influences the course of the game.
The existence of Ichikawa has already redefined the standard of a "strong start".
Off the court, the Inarizaki players took a deep breath and formed the tightest possible receiving formation.
Akagi's eyes were exceptionally focused. He deeply understood the importance of cutting off Imadegawa's serve early—it wasn't just about a point or two, but also about the initial battle of morale between the two sides.
The referee's whistle pierced the air sharply, instantly shattering the steady, rhythmic cheers from the Crane Sound Pavilion's support section—
Imaichi stood behind the service line, his figure as upright as a bamboo shoot.
The cool white light shining from the high dome of the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium fell on him, outlining his sharp shoulder lines and slender yet not thin figure, as if coating him with a halo.
The lights also illuminated the surging cheers from the stands behind him.
Countless swaying support fans formed a surging wave, and beneath that wave, the most eye-catching thing was a platinum and gold support banner that swayed constantly, moved by the sound and passion.
The banner was completely different from the one that Inarizaki and the others had seen during the IH National Tournament. Its patterns were more intricate and delicate, and the edges were embroidered with gilded silk threads depicting crane feathers spreading their wings, which shimmered under the light.
The only thing that remained unchanged was the powerful, seemingly unyielding support lettering in the center of the banner—
"The crane's cry pierces the sky"
The cranes' cries had already pierced the sky from the Jiugao land several months ago.
And now, that long, drawn-out cry will once again pierce the sky above the Tokyo volleyball arena.
Meanwhile, at the center of the Tsurumeikan stadium, Imadegawa stood in the middle of the arena.
He gently pressed down to stop the volleyball that was spinning at his fingertips.
He also stopped the rhythmic gong sounds from the cheering squad behind him.
He didn't take a running start, nor did he make any extra preparations; he simply calmly tossed the ball high in the air in front of him.
The fine white strands of hair on his forehead were gently ruffled by the wind stirred by the spinning volleyball, revealing a pair of eyes with long eyelashes and upturned corners, and within them a pair of bright golden eyes with a warm hue.
The height and position of the ball throw perfectly matched the angle at which his gaze was raised.
The next moment, something earth-shattering began!
At this moment, Chu Chuan's core strength completely erupted.
"Bang!"
A deep, penetrating bang rang out!
The volleyball did not leap high like a typical jump serve, but instead shot out with an almost bizarre low and flat arc after leaving the hand.
Like flying close to the ground, yet with intense spinning, it drew an exaggerated, counterintuitive arc in the air—
It's heading straight for the corner of Inarizaki's backfield!
Tsurumeikan has always prioritized stability. In the various tournaments of this spring high school national competition, apart from Akiyama, who seemed to only know how to serve jump serves, and Koizumi, who occasionally tried jump serves, most players opted for the less risky stationary serve in order to play it safe.
Imadegawa, who was hailed by Kyoto media and even national newspapers as having a "miracle serve," has never displayed any seemingly ordinary jump serve.
Many volleyball enthusiasts who followed the Spring High School National Tournament even privately discussed that the talented setter from Heming Hall seemed to have hit a bottleneck in his serving technique, being limited to "serving from the same spot," and thus stagnating without any improvement.
But at this very moment—
Only the Inarizaki players, especially the receivers in the back row who were ready to face Tsurumeikan again, could truly understand the meaning of the word "miracle".
This is by no means a standstill—
This serve, delivered from a stationary position, is far more threatening in terms of speed, power, and especially its extremely tricky spin than many flashy but impractical jump serves!
Akagi's pupils contracted sharply as he realized the ball's trajectory was not a straight line: "Banana kick—! Watch out for the sidelines!"
The player responsible for the other sideline in the backcourt reacted extremely quickly, diving to the side.
But that serve was faster than anyone could imagine, and as it flew through the air, it made a sharp, inward, and strange turn, as if it had been casually flicked by an invisible force. The ball's trajectory in the air turned into a yellow-blue banana, precisely bypassing his defensive range and slamming heavily inside the sideline!
"Beep—!"
The referee's arm fell decisively: In bounds!!!
On the opening point, Imadegawa delivered his signature, yet even more impressive, high-speed sidespin banana shot from a stationary position, tearing apart Inarizaki's receiving formation and giving Tsurumeikan the first point!
A brief, deathly silence fell over the first half of Inarizaki.
Wei Bai smacked his lips, but his eyes became even sharper.
really……
—This guy's serve isn't at all what the forums are wildly discussing as "standing still."
Instead, they honed the technology to its highest level and transformed it into a more crucial weapon.
Although I had already guessed his progress based on the videotapes of the previous Spring High School matches at Tsurumeikan, I was truly shocked to witness Imaichi Kawa's rapid improvement firsthand.
————————!!————————
(Happy pats on the little ones' paws)
Inarizaki starts snoring—
Whenever I write about Inarizaki, I can't help but write about the fan clubs; the intense clash between the two fan clubs from the Kansai region is really exhilarating!
Today was a short day of writing. ww
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