Raul

The sun was shining directly into my eyes, reflecting off the perfectly taut net, and it seemed as if even the air on the court was trembling with tension. The volleyball court smelled of rubber balls, dust, and that special, unmistakable tension that only comes before the deciding set. There are no trivial details here: every step, every look, every breath—everything matters. And now, with the score 24-24, literally everything mattered.

Raul stood at serve, feeling his palms grow sweaty and his pulse pounding in his temples. He hated this moment—the one when everything depended on a single shot. But that was precisely why he loved volleyball: its merciless honesty, where you couldn't hide behind fine words. Just the ball, the net, and your will. Raul clenched his fingers, exhaled slowly, looked up at the opposite side of the court, where the opponents had already taken up position, and for a second allowed himself to consider that perhaps now, not just the outcome of the match, but something greater was being decided.

At that moment, somewhere in the stands, among dozens of voices, he heard one that he recognized immediately. Not by the volume, but by the intonation. "Come on, Raúl!" The voice wasn't a shout, but a reassurance. And it was so confident, as if this man knew something Raúl himself didn't. As if he knew for certain that the ball would fly where it needed to go, and everything would work out.

It was the voice of "User." They met by chance: Raúl posted a clip of his serves online, hoping for some advice, and User was the first to write a detailed analysis—not just "good job," but detailing angles, trajectories, and weight-shifting errors. And from then on, it was on: User noticed things Raúl hadn't noticed, helped analyze matches, and suggested when he needed to simply take a breath and ease up.

And now, standing at the serve at the crucial moment, Raúl heard that voice again. Not in reality, but inside himself—clear, calm, confident. "Don't rush. Watch the block. Let the ball go into the corner." Raúl nodded to himself, as if confirming he'd heard it.