Haikyuu!!: Raising Crows

The referee's whistle cut through the air, announcing the outcome of the first set. The tension that had gripped the court finally released, leaving everyone drained. On Seiryuu's side, there was a moment of stunned silence before their players began breaking out into cheers, their excitement growing as the reality of their win set in.

Meanwhile, on our side, the atmosphere was heavy. My teammates looked sad and dejected, their shoulders slumped and heads down. Shigeo, who had pushed himself to the limit, plopped down onto the floor, completely drained. Even I felt the sting of frustration from losing the set. But I couldn't let it show—not as the captain and the anchor of this team.

I forced myself to stand tall, scanning the faces of my teammates. They needed someone to steady them, to pull them out of this gloom. "What's with the look on your faces?" I said, my voice steady but firm enough to catch their attention. "We haven't lost yet. There's still another set to play."

My words seemed to spark something in them. Slowly, I could see their spirits lifting, even if just a little. Daiki and Minato gave a small nod, Riku clenched his fists as if trying to pump himself up, and Hinata's usual fire began flickering back into his eyes. But Shigeo didn't budge. He stayed where he was, his head low, his frustration radiating from him in waves.

On the bench, everyone grabbed bottles of water and towels, wiping away the sweat that clung to them. The sound of heavy breaths and the occasional sip filled the brief lull in the match. I took a deep breath myself, feeling the weight of the team's expectations on my shoulders.

Once everyone had cooled down a bit, I gathered them together in a tight circle. "Alright, listen up," I said, my tone commanding but encouraging. "We're not done yet. Let's go all-in for the second set. Full offense. I want us to push hard and keep them on their heels."

In my mind, I considered Shigeo's condition. He should just focus on setting the ball and avoiding blocks as much as possible to conserve his stamina. I didn't say it aloud, though. Shigeo was already frustrated, and I didn't want to risk hurting his pride or making him feel worse.

I looked at everyone and added, "Keep playing like you did in the first set. You all did a great job out there. We didn't win, but we pushed them hard, and I know we can do it again. Just trust in each other and give it everything you've got."

Suddenly, Shigeo's voice cut through the murmurs of agreement. "Sorry," he said quietly, his head still bowed.

I turned to him, watching as frustration and regret played out on his face. "If only I gave it my all during training," he continued, his voice trembling slightly. "If only I worked on my stamina like you told me to, then…"

"Shut up," I said, my tone cold and cutting. The words came out sharper than I intended, and everyone turned to look at me, startled. My expression must have been terrifying, because I saw some of their faces pale. I wasn't the type to lose my temper. Sure, I'd scolded them in the past for mistakes, but never like this. Never with this cold anger. But right now, I couldn't hold it back.

Shigeo's eyes widened slightly, irritation flickering in them. "Huh? It's true… if I'd just had more stamina, I could—"

Before he could finish, I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer. The movement was sudden, and gasps rippled through the group. "Shut your fucking mouth," I said, my voice low but laced with a venom I barely recognized as my own. The others scrambled to pull me back, their hands on my arms as they urged me to calm down.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Shigeo snapped, his hands trying to pry mine off his shirt.

"If only I had practiced more receives," I started, staring him straight in the eyes. "If only I had practiced my serves more. If only I had trained harder…" My gaze didn't waver, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered how strange this was. I'm not really a confrontational type, I thought. In my past life, I avoided conflict. I played it off. But right now, I'm pissed.

"That's what everyone is feeling right now," I said, my grip still tight on his shirt. "What's the point in wallowing in the past? You can't change what happened. I don't want your stupid apologies. I don't want your self-pity." I loosened my grip slightly, my tone sharp as I continued. "For the next set, I want you on your A-game, genius. If it kills you, so be it. Bring me your best sets. Prove to me that you're truly sorry—not with your words, but with your actions. Show me your ego."

I let go of him, my hands falling to my sides. I took a deep breath, turning my gaze to the rest of the team. Their expressions had shifted, their gazes firm and burning with renewed determination. "This goes for the rest of you too. Got that? I don't want any excuses. Show me that you want to win, and I'll lead you to victory."

"Yes, sir!" they responded in unison, their voices echoing with resolve.

Shigeo straightened his shirt, his irritation gone, replaced by something steadier. His gaze was firm, devoid of the frustration and bitterness from before. "Alright, maestro," he said, his tone low but resolute. "Lead the way."

"Good," I replied, a small smirk tugging at my lips. "Let's win this."

[Author's Note: I found some time to write. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Someone mentioned that I introduced the concept of ego only to ignore it, so I wanted to use this chapter to highlight Keiji's growing ego and how it influences his actions.

Writing is tough, and every bit of support helps. If you enjoyed this, please drop some votes, reviews, or stones to keep me going!]