"That's all you've got, Seigaku!" Akutsu muttered, feeling bored. Truly, only playing against Kamikawa brought him that exhilarating pressure and pure enjoyment. To Akutsu, all the other players simply weren't worth mentioning.
Akutsu's gaze sharpened, pinpointing Fuji's backhand, and with a powerful one-handed swing, he launched the ball forward.
BAM!
The fluorescent yellow tennis ball shot across the court, landing squarely in Fuji's backhand zone.
Could it be... Could I really be stopped here?! If I lose this match like this, I truly can't accept it.
Fuji, utterly drained, suddenly accelerated his steps just as the ball was about to land. His figure rushed towards the net, using the momentum from his net approach to powerfully strike the ball.
Whoosh~
A gentle breeze swept across the court, and the falling leaves swayed with it. At that moment, Akutsu's eyes widened. He could feel the tennis ball whizzing past him at incredible speed, landing perfectly on the baseline, bouncing up, and slamming into the concrete wall behind without losing any power.
THWACK!
"15-40!"
On the sidelines, Kikumaru mumbled, "Did I just imagine that?! Why didn't I see that last shot?"
"No! You're not imagining things, I didn't see it either!" Oishi's eyes were wide, his face filled with disbelief. All of Seigaku couldn't believe someone could hit such a fast shot.
"Fuji Shusuke, you truly are—"
Yamato stood up, his palms clenched into fists, trembling. He had never imagined someone could hit such a terrifying return, using the momentum from approaching the net and leveraging the opponent's fast ball. Not only that, Fuji even utilized that slight breeze.
"Ultra-offensive tennis," Kamikawa's eyes flickered slightly. It seems Fuji has abandoned his previous defensive tennis style and transitioned to a more aggressive approach. In that case, the future Fuji will only become stronger.
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The current Fuji is playing tennis for himself.
"That's a very impressive technique."
Just then, the Hyotei team arrived. Tezuka was the first to break the silence. He looked at Fuji, who was enveloped by the gentle breeze, and murmured to himself, "Utilizing the breeze to create various techniques... Kamikawa, he really is a genius."
Fuji's strength lies in utilizing all available weather conditions to create techniques suitable for the current environment. Among them, Fuji uses wind the most, which is why Fuji has another nickname: "Child of the Wind," Fuji Shusuke.
"Fuji Shusuke, was it?"
Akutsu's eyes flashed with a hint of interest as he looked at the boy across from him, still standing despite his exhaustion. That one shot alone was enough for Akutsu to remember his name. It was just a shame that after hitting such an ultra-offensive technique, that broken body finally collapsed. He no longer had the strength to continue the match, and even his consciousness became hazy.
"Referee, Seigaku forfeits this round."
Coach Ryuzaki also noticed Fuji's condition. There was no point in continuing; it was better to forfeit early. With Fuji's forfeiture, the score reached 2-2. The next match would be between the respective number one singles players. Apart from Fuji, Yamato, and other tennis players of Kantō level, Seigaku's remaining seniors only had metropolitan tournament level skills at most.
Yamabuki had genuinely fought their way through based on their own abilities. The final match, from the moment it began, had no suspense. Kamata of Seigaku ultimately lost to Hotta Shuzo with a score of 6-4, regretfully ending their path to the nationals with an overall score of 3-2.
"Minister Yamato..."
Fuji, who had woken up, dragged his body, and said apologetically, "I lost, I'm sorry!"
"You did very well," Yamato shook his head. Though there was regret, he had also witnessed the future of Seigaku. The Seigaku of the future would only become stronger, much stronger than what they saw now.
Fuji bit his lip and said, "We still lost the match."
"Fuji, you still have plenty of time and a bright future ahead of you."
"Next year, lead Seigaku to a higher stage."
Yamato took a deep breath and patted Fuji's shoulder. These first-years were the future of the Seigaku Tennis Club. Even though they lost this match, Yamato was satisfied. They had pushed themselves to their limits; it just meant their skills weren't quite enough.
"Don't worry, Fuji."
Kikumaru's figure appeared in front of Fuji, grinning. "Next year, we'll definitely make it to nationals!"
"Yeah, Fuji!"
Inui pushed up his glasses and said, "The future belongs to Seigaku."
"Fuji, we'll definitely make it to the National Tournament," Oishi and Kawamura also made up their minds deep down that they would definitely reach the National Tournament in the future.
"Everyone..."
Fuji looked at everyone, his eyes welling up. Wiping away his tears, he whispered, "Let's all work hard!"
"We'll stand on a higher, grander stage!"
"Fuji Shusuke!"
From a distance, the Rikkaidai group had not yet left. Sanada gazed at Fuji's retreating figure and silently nodded. This person lacked the absolute belief in victory, but now he possessed what he was missing.
"Seigaku will be a good opponent next year."
Yanagi Renji also noticed the bespectacled guy in the Seigaku team, his childhood friend, with whom he had played doubles for a long time in elementary school. Yanagi Renji never expected him to choose Seigaku. With his data, Seigaku will become even stronger in the future.
"Sadaharu, I still think you chose the wrong team." Yanagi slowly shook his head, believing that with Inui's skill, he could have chosen a better stage to showcase his abilities, rather than an old glorious school.
"A powerful tennis player, in addition to having a strong foundation, also needs a big heart—a fearless, death-defying heart when facing any opponent."
Many times, the greatest impact on a match is spiritual power—that intangible, invisible thing that can unleash infinite strength at critical moments.
"Stop being so profound, it's time to head back," Atobe called out to Kamikawa twice. The return bus driver was already in place, and it was time to go back. Since it was still early, Atobe planned to stay and train at the tennis club for a while longer.
"Alright, alright." Kamikawa nodded and followed them.
In the afternoon, after the Hyotei team returned to the tennis club, everyone except the regulars was dismissed to go home and rest. After completing various training exercises, Shintaro specifically kept Kamikawa, Tezuka, and Atobe behind to discuss the lineup for their semi-final match against Yamabuki. By the time they left the lounge, it was already dark. Kamikawa, dragging his weary body, took the subway back with Tezuka. Kamikawa wasn't in the mood to cycle today; he was practically dead tired and had no energy left to ride a bike.
"I'm home."
Yawning constantly, his hair a mess like a bird's nest, he pushed open the door and headed towards the living room. He'd been busy all day and hadn't even had dinner yet.
In the living room, the old man seemed to be in a good mood. It looked like he had gone fishing again today, with his fishing gear still set aside. When he saw Kamikawa return, the old man also looked up, put down his newspaper, and said, "Brat, you're back a bit late today."
"I was busy all day, and we had an impromptu personnel meeting, so it took a little longer." Kamikawa slumped onto the sofa without a care for appearances, looking utterly drained.
"Go on, go on! Hurry up and eat, then go take a shower after dinner. You reek!" The old man waved his hand, urging Kamikawa to move away from him. Being a chef himself, the old man was particularly sensitive to smells. He hadn't noticed when Kamikawa first came in, but as soon as he got close, the scent from his body wafted over.
"Okay!" Kamikawa nodded, sitting down in his chair to eat, occasionally glancing at the fishing gear. He casually asked, "Grandpa, did you go fishing again today? Was it with Tezuka-Grandpa again?"
"Didn't you say Tezuka-Grandpa's fishing skills were terrible?"
The old man glanced at his fishing gear and chuckled. "Today, besides that old man Kunikazu, there was also that old man Gen'emon. That old man's fishing skills are even worse."
"All he ever does is play shogi; he's terrible at that too."
Gen'emon? Kamikawa raised an eyebrow slightly. This was the first time he'd heard his grandfather mention that name.
"This Gen'emon-Grandpa, is he—"
"Oh! He lives in Kanagawa now. His name's Sanada Gen'emon. Come to think of it, his grandson seems to be about the same age as you, kid. We haven't been in touch much since he settled in Kanagawa Prefecture a long time ago," the old man said, looking at his newspaper.
"Sanada Gen'emon? Sanada Genichiro? Could it be that guy's grandfather?" Kamikawa's mouth twitched slightly. He remembered that Sanada's grandfather and Tezuka's grandfather knew each other, and it seemed they were old rivals, though Tezuka and Sanada themselves weren't aware of it. After all, one grew up in Tokyo, and the other in Kanagawa Prefecture; they couldn't exactly bring their grandchildren along for visits during holidays.
"Phew—" Kamikawa took a deep breath, no longer paying attention to these thoughts.
"I'm going upstairs now."
After finishing his meal, Kamikawa immediately ran upstairs to shower. He didn't plan on completing his training for tonight; he had already met his daily quotas at the tennis club.
"Little rascal," the old man chuckled, watching Kamikawa go upstairs. In his opinion, it was enough for Kamikawa to steadfastly follow the path he wanted, and Kamikawa certainly had some talent in tennis, unlike his father, Kunikazu, who had no patience at all.
The old man glanced at the contents of the newspaper. In the tennis section in the center of the paper, it mentioned that Hyotei had advanced to the Kantō Tournament semifinals with an unstoppable momentum, already securing a spot in the National Tournament.
"Hm?" The old man suddenly heard a text message sound. He pulled out his phone to check, and it was a message from Tezuka Kunikazu. "There's another fishing competition tomorrow, and that old man Gen'emon is joining too."
The old man nodded slightly, got up, and began to prepare his secret bait. Tomorrow, he planned to fiercely show up his old buddies.
Meanwhile, at the Japan U-17 training camp.
Outside the gate stood a high school student in a red uniform. He looked rather mature, but his eyes held an indescribable sharpness. In his hand, he held an invitation to the U-17 training camp.
"This is the U-17 training camp?"
"Don't worry, kids, I will stand at the pinnacle of Japanese tennis!"
The mature-looking high school student smiled slightly, forcefully pushing open the locked iron gate and walking into the training camp.
At this moment, Kurobe, inside the monitoring room, raised an eyebrow slightly. "Is that figure the high school student you invited from the Kansai region?" He was asking Saitou Hajime, the tall man standing beside him, who was one of the U-17 training camp coaches, primarily coaching mental aspects. Kurobe Yukio was also one of the U-17 training camp coaches, primarily coaching tactical aspects.
Hearing Kurobe say this, Saitou laughed, "That guy is quite something. Last year, he led an unknown middle school to the nationals and even took the national title."
"The leader of a middle school team, huh?"
Kurobe nodded and said, "You know, the one from Makinoto overseas also received an invitation. Both of their auras are very peculiar; an internal struggle is bound to happen sooner or later."
"What does it matter?" Saitou said indifferently. "Isn't all this for this year's U-17 World Cup? The one from the back mountain thinks highly of these two."
"The one from the back mountain?" Kurobe was a bit surprised and turned to Saitou. "Find someone to arrange that guy's accommodation first. As for whether he can stay, that's up to their own abilities."
On Kurobe's desk were many tennis players' school profiles, including Ochi Tsukimitsu, the former captain of the Hyotei Tennis Club, whose relevant data was displayed on the computer.