The high of celebrating Maki's basketball debut lasted exactly twelve hours before reality hit Taiki like a serve to the face. Standing in the volleyball team huddle, his knees felt about as stable as jello in an earthquake.

  "Remember," Sato's voice cut through Taiki's internal panic, "we've got this! Their defense might be solid, but our offense is-"

  Taiki tuned out the rest of the pep talk, his mind spiraling through worst-case scenarios. Sure, he wasn't in the starting lineup - thank every deity ever - but what if Jin got hurt? What if Roku needed a break? What if-

  "Dude, you're hyperventilating," Daichi whispered, nudging him.

  "Am not," Taiki muttered back, definitely hyperventilating. "Just... strategically breathing."

  He'd spent so much time teasing Maki about her pre-game jitters that he'd completely forgotten about his own impending doom. And yeah, her match had gone surprisingly well. But volleyball was different. One wrong move and he could send the ball into the referee's face or, worse, straight into the back of Sato's head.

  "Hey," Roku appeared at his side, somehow looking both amused and concerned. "You know you're just bench warming today, right?"

  "Until someone dies and I have to go in," Taiki replied grimly.

  "It's a practice match, not the Hunger Games," Roku snorted. "Nobody's dying."

  Taiki slumped onto the bench, trying to make himself as small as possible. The whistle blew, and the match began with Sato's serve sailing over the net. Taiki's fingers drummed against his knees as he watched.

  Five minutes in, he realized he'd been so focused on not messing up his sets that he'd completely forgotten to learn... well, everything else.

  Ten minutes passed, and cold sweat broke out on his forehead. What even were the rules? Sure, he'd seen his teammates practicing rotations, but in an actual match? He couldn't remember if they needed two sets or three to win. Was it first to 25 points? He vaguely recalled something about a two-point difference, but-

  "GO VOLLEYBALL TEAM!"

  Taiki's head snapped up at the familiar voice. There, flooding into the gym like a tide of chaos, was the entire basketball team. Led by Maki, who was waving what looked suspiciously like a handmade banner with "CRUSH THEM!" written in glittery letters. Behind her, Shiori offered an apologetic wave when she caught his eye.

  "Oh god," Taiki muttered, sliding further down the bench. "They're actually here. All of them. Why are they all here?"

  "TAIKI!" Maki's voice cut through the gym noise. "WE MADE SIGNS TOO!"

  Sure enough, the basketball team unfurled a collection of posters. One, decorated with what appeared to be a stick figure falling face-first into a volleyball net, read "SETTERS DO IT BETTER!" Another simply stated "DON'T DIE!"

  Taiki glared daggers at Maki's grinning face across the gym. Those banners were a hundred times worse than anything the volleyball team had brought to her game. At least their signs had been encouraging. "Don't die"? Really?

  But as he watched the basketball team settle into the bleachers, still waving their ridiculous signs, something deflated inside him. Here they were, showing up with all this energy and support, and for what? He wasn't even going to play. At least Maki had gotten her moment on the court, however brief. He was just... bench decoration.

  Taiki slumped further down, his earlier anxiety morphing into a different kind of discomfort. He'd probably spend the entire match exactly where he was now, waiting for everyone else to finish so he could go home.

  "Nice signs!" Jin called out to the basketball team during a break between points, and Taiki seriously considered crawling under the bench.

  One set, two sets. His team was crushing it. Taiki watched from his safe spot on the bench as Jin slammed another spike through their opponents' defense. The scoreboard ticked over: 25-18. Second set in the bag.

  The team gathered for their huddle before the final set, everyone riding high on their momentum.

  That's when he caught it - the look in Jin's eyes. That calculating, slightly pained expression that made Taiki's stomach drop. Jin was rotating his shoulder, wincing just enough to catch their coach's attention.

  "You okay there?" Coach asked, cutting off Sato mid-rant.

  "Just a bit of strain," Jin admitted, still working his shoulder. "Nothing major, but-"

  No. Nope. This wasn't happening. Taiki tried to make himself even smaller, practically merging with the wall behind him. But he could feel multiple pairs of eyes turning his direction.

  "Taiki," Coach said, and Taiki seriously considered faking a sudden case of food poisoning. "Start warming up."

  From across the gym, he heard Maki's distinct squeal of excitement. The basketball team's signs seemed to wave with renewed vigor, that stupid "DON'T DIE!" poster now front and center.

  Jin caught his eye, and Taiki saw the truth - that shoulder "strain" looked suspiciously well-timed.

  Taiki shuffled onto the court. Everything looked different from this angle - more intimidating, like the net had grown three meters taller and the opposing team had morphed into giants. The referee's whistle felt like it was drilling straight into his skull.

  "You've got this!" Sato's hand clapped his shoulder, nearly sending Taiki face-first into the floor. "Just like practice!"

  Practice. Right. Because those disaster sessions where he'd sent balls flying in every direction except the correct one were totally reassuring right now.

  Taiki glanced at the bench where Jin sat, sporting the most irritatingly innocent smile he'd ever seen. The absolute traitor had planned this whole thing.

  'I will end you,' Taiki mouthed at Jin, who just gave him a cheerful thumbs up in response.

  The opposing team's server tossed the ball high, and Taiki's brain short-circuited. What was he supposed to do again? Where should he stand? Why were there suddenly so many lines on the court?

  "Position three!" Roku hissed, yanking Taiki into place just as the serve came sailing over.

  Takashi received it cleanly, the ball arcing perfectly toward... oh god. Toward him. Taiki's hands came up automatically, muscle memory from those countless early morning practices taking over.

  'Don't panic,' he thought, even as he was absolutely panicking. 'Just like Shiori said - quick thinking. You can do quick thinking.'

  The ball touched his fingertips and - instead of the clean set he'd practiced hundreds of times with Maki - it shot straight up, nearly hitting the gym's ceiling.

  "I got it!" Sato called, scrambling to save Taiki's disaster of a set.

  But the opposing team was already moving. The ball dropped like a stone between three of Taiki's teammates, hitting the court with a sound that seemed to echo through his skull. The scoreboard ticked over another point for the other team.

  "Sorry," he mumbled, though the word felt inadequate. One play in, and he'd already proved everyone right about his lack of athletic ability. So much for all that early morning practice. So much for quick thinking. So much for-

  "Reset!" Roku's sharp voice cut through Taiki's spiral of self-loathing. "Next point!"

  But Taiki's hands were shaking now, his confidence completely shot. The next serve came over, and though Takashi's receive was perfect again, Taiki's set went wide. The point after that, he set it too low, forcing Sato to practically dive to reach it.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Three plays. Three completely botched sets. Each one worse than the last.

  "Time out!" Sato's voice cut through the chaos, and Taiki had never been more grateful for a break in his life.

  The team huddled, but Taiki couldn't bring himself to look at any of them. He'd single-handedly destroyed their momentum. Three points. They'd lost three straight points because of him.

  "Hey." Roku's steady voice broke through his thoughts. "You're thinking too much."

  "I'm not thinking enough," Taiki muttered. "I can't even remember where to stand half the time."

  "That's exactly what he means," Daichi chimed in. "You're so busy worrying about every little thing that you're forgetting the basics. Watch the ball, move your feet, set it up. Simple as that."

  "Simple," Taiki echoed with a hollow laugh. "Right."

  "Remember those morning practices?" Sato asked, and Taiki finally looked up. "When it was just you and Maki? You weren't overthinking then. You were just... doing it."

  "Yeah, because nobody was watch-" Taiki started, but cut himself off as realization hit. That was it, wasn't it? All those early mornings, he hadn't cared about looking stupid because the only person watching was Maki, who looked just as ridiculous as he did.

  "Exactly," Sato grinned, clearly seeing the lightbulb moment. "So stop thinking about everyone else. It's just practice, like always."

  From the bleachers, Maki's voice rang out again: "YOU'VE GOT THIS, VOLLEYBALL DISASTER BUDDY!"

  The whistle blew, ending their timeout. As Taiki moved back into position, he caught Shiori's eye in the crowd. She gave him a small nod.

  The server tossed the ball up, and Taiki took a deep breath.

  The ball slammed into their court before anyone could react, another point lost because of Taiki's set. He'd gotten the height right this time - a marked improvement from his ceiling-scraper earlier - but the trajectory had sent it sailing right over the net into enemy territory. Basically gift-wrapped the point for them.

  "Nice try!" Sato called out, completely genuine. "That height was perfect!"

  "Better!" Roku agreed, clapping Taiki on the shoulder.

  Taiki stared at them like they'd lost their minds. Were they watching the same game? He'd just handed the other team another free point, and they were... congratulating him?

  "Getting closer!" Even Jin shouted from the bench, that suspiciously-timed shoulder strain apparently not stopping him from being annoyingly supportive.

  The basketball team erupted in cheers, Maki's voice rising above the rest: "SEE? YOU DIDN'T DIE!"

  Taiki's brain stopped. This wasn't how things worked - at least, not according to every sports movie he'd ever seen. People were supposed to get mad when you messed up. They were supposed to bench you, or yell, or at least look disappointed. Not... whatever this weird cheerleading session was.

  "I literally just lost us another point," he muttered to Roku as they reset positions. "Why aren't you guys angry?"

  "Because you're improving," Roku replied simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Right height, just a bit too much power. That's progress."

  Taiki blinked, trying to process this bizarre sports logic.

  The noise in the gym had reached fever pitch, a wall of sound that should have been overwhelming. Instead, Taiki found himself oddly focused, watching the ball arc through the air toward Takashi. The libero's receive was perfect again - how did he make it look so easy? - sending the ball spinning toward Taiki's position.

  Time seemed to slow. He could hear individual voices now, picking them out from the chaos. There was Maki, screaming something about volleyball disaster solidarity. The basketball team had apparently started some kind of rhythmic chanting.

  The ball descended, and Taiki's hands came up automatically. 'Just like practice,' he thought, remembering those quiet morning sessions with Maki. 'Height was good last time. Just need less power.'

  His fingers connected with the ball, and he could feel instantly that something was different. The weight felt right, the angle wasn't completely terrible, and - most importantly - it wasn't heading for the ceiling or the opposing team's court.

  The ball arced perfectly toward Sato's waiting form.

  "Got it!" Sato's eyes lit up as he launched himself into the air, arm already swinging back for the spike.

  The sound of the ball slamming into the opposite court was nearly drowned out by the explosion of cheers from the crowd. Taiki stood frozen, hands still raised from the set, staring at the spot where the ball had landed.

  He stared at his hands like they belonged to someone else. That had to be it - these weren't his hands. Someone must have switched bodies with him when he wasn't paying attention. Maybe he'd been possessed by the ghost of a volleyball player. Or maybe...

  "THAT'S MY SETTER!" Sato's voice boomed across the court as he launched himself at Taiki, nearly tackling him to the ground.

  The impact felt real enough. Definitely not a dream then.

  "I..." Taiki managed, still processing. "That actually went where it was supposed to go?"

  "Right to my sweet spot!" Sato confirmed, practically vibrating with excitement.

  "Huh." Taiki blinked slowly. "So this isn't the part where I wake up late for school?"

  Roku snorted behind him. "If this was a dream, would Maki be doing... whatever that is?"

  Taiki followed Roku's gesture to where Maki had apparently decided to perform some kind of victory dance in the bleachers, complete with dramatic arm-waving that had already knocked over two of their signs.

  "Fair point," Taiki admitted.

  "Get back in position, dream boy," Daichi teased, shoving him toward his spot. "Unless you want to pinch yourself again to make sure?"

  "I wasn't going to-" Taiki started to protest, then realized he'd absolutely been about to do exactly that. His hand dropped guiltily back to his side as his teammates laughed.

  The final whistle blew, and Taiki's legs finally gave out. He collapsed onto the bench, muscles trembling from exertion and leftover adrenaline. They'd won. Somehow, despite his disaster debut as a setter, they'd actually won.

  "Two," he mumbled to himself, staring at his hands. "Two sets actually worked."

  "What was that?" Sato flopped down beside him, still radiating energy like some kind of volleyball-powered sun.

  "Out of thirteen attempts," Taiki clarified, "I managed to set two balls that didn't completely suck."

  Two months ago, those numbers would have sent him into a spiral of self-deprecation. He would have fixated on the eleven failed attempts, on every missed opportunity and awkward fumble. He probably would have tried to quit right there on the bench.

  But now? Two successful sets felt like... well, not exactly a victory, but definitely not a complete failure either.

  "Hey," he realized, a small smile tugging at his lips, "I actually set two balls that worked."

  "You did!" Sato agreed enthusiastically, throwing an arm around Taiki's shoulders. "And did you see how perfect that last one was? Right in my hitting zone!"

  High-fives erupted around Taiki as teammates swarmed the bench. Even Jin abandoned his "injured" shoulder act to join the celebration.

  The bleachers were still thundering with noise, the basketball team's enthusiasm apparently contagious enough to infect the entire crowd. Through the chaos, Taiki spotted Shiori clapping, a knowing smile on her face. He'd been so convinced he'd fail, and yet here he was, having managed not one but two decent sets in an actual game.

  "Those morning practices paid off, huh?" Maki had somehow materialized next to the bench, still clutching that ridiculous "DON'T DIE!" sign. Her face was flushed from all the screaming she'd done.

  "Two sets out of thirteen is paying off?" Taiki raised an eyebrow.

  "Better than zero out of thirteen!" She waved the sign dangerously close to his head. "Besides, did you see how many people showed up? The whole first-year class is practically here!"

  Taiki glanced around, finally taking in just how packed the gym had become. She wasn't wrong.

  "I think your fan club might be bigger than mine now," Shiori commented as she approached, still applauding. "The entire basketball team seems quite invested in your volleyball career."

  "They're not-" Taiki started to protest, but was cut off by another round of cheering as someone in the crowd started a "SET-TER! SET-TER!" chant.

  "You were saying?" Shiori's eyes sparkled with amusement.

  Taiki watched his teammates celebrate, a strange mix of pride and embarrassment churning in his stomach. Here were six actual volleyball monsters - guys who could jump, spike, and receive like they'd been born with a ball in their hands - and somehow everyone was focused on his two barely passable sets.

  "Did you see that last receive though?" he tried deflecting, gesturing at Takashi. "That was incredible! The ball was like, completely out of bounds, and somehow-"

  "Yeah, yeah, but let's talk about that second set!" Takashi cut him off, bouncing around. "The height was perfect!"

  "But Sato's spike-"

  "Because your set was right where it needed to be!" Sato interrupted, still beaming.

  Taiki looked desperately at Roku, usually the voice of reason. "Come on, you guys were doing actual volleyball things. I just... managed to not completely mess up twice."

  "That's what I'm saying!" Daichi clapped him on the back hard enough to make him stumble. "Two perfect sets from our newbie setter! That's what we're celebrating!"

  "They weren't perfect," Taiki muttered, but no one seemed to hear him over their continued excitement.

  Jin sidled up next to him, shoulder miraculously healed. "You know what your problem is?"

  "Besides the eleven terrible sets?"

  "You think we care more about fancy plays than watching our teammate improve." Jin grinned. "Trust me, I've spiked thousands of balls. But watching you finally nail that set? Way better."

  Taiki's legs wobbled as he pushed himself up from the bench, his muscles protesting the sudden movement after such an intense match. The gym's chaos dimmed slightly as people noticed him standing, though Maki was still waving that ridiculous sign in the background.

  "Okay, this is..." He took a deep breath, fighting the urge to stare at his feet instead of his teammates. "This is getting ridiculous."

  The volleyball team exchanged confused glances, probably wondering if their setter was having some kind of breakdown. Even Jin's ever-present grin faltered slightly.

  "Fine. You want to cheer for two sets?" He looked around at his teammates, at the crowd, at Shiori's knowing smile. "Then I'll give you hundreds of sets to cheer for. Count on me."

  Jin's hand landed in Taiki's hair first, ruffling it with enough force to make him stumble. "Now that's what I'm talking about!" Before Taiki could dodge, the entire team descended on him in a chaos of hair-ruffling and shoulder-slapping that threatened to knock him over completely.

  "Guys, I can't set if you break me," Taiki protested weakly, but he couldn't quite hide his smile.

  From the sidelines, Shiori watched the scene unfold, a proud smile spreading across her face. It was subtle - just a slight upturn of her lips and a softening around her eyes - but for someone who usually kept her emotions carefully controlled, it spoke volumes.

  Maki caught that look and had to bite back a knowing grin. She'd seen plenty of Shiori's expressions over the years - the polite smile she gave to fans, the fierce grin during games, the gentle encouragement she showed to struggling teammates. But this? This was different. This was genuine pride and something else.

  'Well, well,' Maki thought, watching her usually composed friend fail to notice she was still clapping long after everyone else had stopped. 'Looks like our volleyball disaster is having quite the effect on the untouchable Shiori Fujisawa.'