Thud!
"40-15!"
Thud!
"Game!"
"Second String leads, 1-0. Change sides!"
In the blink of an eye, Shiraishi and Yanagi had taken the first game.
Their coordination, initially awkward, was visibly improving with each exchange.
"These middle schoolers…"
Many of the high schoolers felt a chill.
The duo's synergy was evolving in real time.
"Hmm."
Outside the court, Nakagauchi from Court 3 muttered, "This year's middle schoolers… their talent is terrifying."
"Yeah."
Tsutomu Doumoto nodded grimly.
He could hardly believe that two third-year middle schoolers—neither of whom ranked among the elite—could return Idate Otoko's signature moves.
Then again…
The current top player in U-17 was also a middle schooler—one who had crushed the two strongest high schoolers back-to-back.
Put that way, this wasn't so surprising.
Thud!
"Game!"
"Second String leads, 2-0!"
Thud!
"Game!"
"Second String leads, 3-0!"
In no time, the middle schoolers claimed two more games, widening their lead to 3-0.
"They're strong."
Hara Genichirou glanced at the silver-blue-haired boy across the net and sighed. "I didn't expect a Rikkai Dai player to be this sharp."
That perceptiveness was giving him flashbacks.
"Oh, this is nothing."
Mouri chuckled, waving a hand. "Yanagi's skill ranks third or lower in Rikkai Dai's lineup."
"What?!"
Several high schoolers gaped.
"But," Mouri added, his gaze shifting to Shiraishi at the baseline, "the real problem in this doubles pair is your guy from Shitenhouji."
Impenetrable defense.
A unique ability to amplify his partner's mental focus.
This kid was built for doubles.
"Shiraishi?" Hara grinned. "Of course. He's the greatest captain Shitenhouji's ever had!"
"These two…"
The middle schoolers frowned as they watched Hara and Mouri chat casually during the side change.
Their calm was unnerving.
If not for the score, you'd think they were the ones dominating.
"Senpai," Shiraishi called out, "aren't you going to show us your real strength soon?"
"Patience," Hara laughed. "You'll see it—right about now."
The umpire's voice rang out:
"Fourth game! First String's Hara to serve!"
"Time to get serious."
Hara bounced the ball, a confident smirk playing on his lips.
"Shiraishi," he said, eyes glinting, "don't blink. Feel my tennis."
Boom!
He unleashed a crushing serve.
Thud!
The ball struck the court, cracking the surface slightly as a shockwave of sound rippled outward.
"This power—?!"
Yanagi's pupils contracted.
Bracing himself, he swung—
Crack!
—and his expression twisted the moment the ball connected.
"Too heavy!"
He wasn't a power player, but his technique usually compensated for raw force.
Yet this?
Unreal.
Gritting his teeth, he quickly switched to a two-handed grip, barely managing to return it.
"Not bad!" Hara grinned. "But that was just the appetizer. The main course is next!"
Bam!
Another brutal strike.
This time, Shiraishi intercepted it—but even he flinched at the impact.
The ball wasn't just heavy; it spun violently, threatening to rip the racket from his hands.
Yet he returned it.
"Good, good." Hara nodded approvingly.
He never expected to win in one shot.
That wasn't his style.
During training with Ishikawa and Mouri, he'd honed a new approach—
"Ferocity."
Fast.
"Power."
Overwhelming.
His original strengths—stamina and mental fortitude—were now enhanced by sheer aggression.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Hara launched a relentless assault.
His speed was blinding, his strikes thunderous.
Shiraishi and Yanagi barely held on, rotating defenses to share the burden.
One-on-one, they'd have collapsed already.
"His rhythm's speeding up." Yanagi's grip tightened. "A lob might slow him down—"
"No!" Shiraishi cut in sharply. "Hara's best shot is the smash!"
Yanagi's face paled.
If this was his baseline power, how devastating would a full-force smash be?
"What's wrong?" Hara taunted, winding up another strike. "World-class opponents won't go easy on you!"
Shiraishi and Yanagi exchanged a glance—then burned with resolve.
"That's the spirit."
Hara's racket flashed—
Whoosh!
—and a crimson streak tore through the air.
"Too fast!!"
The spectators gasped.
Shiraishi and Yanagi both tracked it, lunging to intercept—
Snap!
—only for Shiraishi's strings to snap on contact.
"Hiss—!"
The crowd recoiled.
"That shot…"
Choutarou Ootori and Yuushi Oshitari stiffened.
"Bullet?!"
They recognized it instantly—the signature move of Zeus, Shitenhouji's legendary former captain.
"Zeus," the now-second-stringer God himself muttered, "that's not Bullet."
His eyes locked onto the ball—still spinning, charred black against the wall.
"It's stronger."
A faint smile tugged at his lips as he gave Hara a nod.
Jealous? Maybe.
His era lacked monsters like Byoudouin, Oni… or Ishikawa.
A blessing and a curse.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Hara's onslaught continued.
Game after game, he clawed back the score.
Bam!
"Game! First String, 1-3!"
Bam!
"Game! First String, 2-3!"
Bam!
"Game! First String, 3-3!"
The match was tied—and Hara showed no signs of slowing.
Thwack!
In the seventh game, Yanagi served—
—with windswept ferocity.
"That's—!"
Yukimura's eyes snapped open. "Swift as the Wind?!"
"Wait."
The Rikkai Dai players whirled toward their bench—
—where Sanada still stood.
Yet on the court?
A black-capped figure with Sanada's exact aura glared back.
"Two Sanadas?!"
"No."
Renji smirked. "That's Yanagi's Phantom. He can mimic anyone."
"A trickster?!"
The U-17 elites murmured in surprise.
Even Houou and Inui studied the transformed boy with interest.
Bam!
Hara blasted another return.
Fwip!
'Sanada' countered with a silken slice—
"Gentle as the Forest!"
—completely diffusing the power.
"Fūrinkazan!" Inui adjusted his glasses. "He's replicated all of Sanada's techniques?"
Thud!
Next came an immovable stance—
"Immovable as the Mountain!"
—a fortress-like defense.
Yet when the ball rebounded, the warped strings told the real story.
"Even Mountain couldn't stop it?!"
Shiraishi moved in to assist, intercepting with a sharp edge strike—
—only for Hara to explode with crimson aura.
"Too soft!"
His swing carried the force of a tiger's pounce.
BOOM!
A blazing streak shot forth—
—taking the form of a roaring tiger mid-flight.
"Damn it!"
Shiraishi charged, swinging his racket's metal frame like a blade—
CRACK!
—and the impact hurled his racket away, the frame bent beyond use.
"SHIRAISHI!!"
Shitenhouji's team screamed.
The high schoolers winced.
That reckless block would've shattered bones—
—until the dust cleared.
Revealing shredded bandages…
And beneath them?
A gleaming alloy wristguard.