"Ice Emperor wins!"
"UNDEFEATED RIKKAI!!"
Even after dropping singles three, Rikkai's crowd was still roaring like they were up 2-0. Zero quit in these psychos.
"Jesus, the energy in here is insane," Kikumaru muttered, practically drooling at the thought of playing on this stage. Win or lose, he'd take it in a heartbeat.
Fuji's eyes flicked to the stands. "Not just high-school scouts—pro club coaches are here too. I see Tokyo pros mixed in."
Ninotake stared at the scoreboard, forcing his pulse to chill. "We're up 2-1. Lose this and we're still in the driver's seat."
He knew even if it went to the fifth match, Tezuka would cook. Ice Emperor was taking this trophy home.
Akutagawa grinned like a maniac. "You're joking, right? Singles two is THAT guy."
"Exactly," Kōtarō laughed. "Kamikawa doesn't lose."
"Man's not even captain or vice-captain and he's already above both," Ninotake admitted, eyes locked on Kamikawa and Tezuka walking out together like kings.
"Yo, Kamikawa!" Atobe's voice cut through the noise.
Kamikawa turned.
Atobe's stare was pure fire. "I already delivered singles three. Your turn. Keep the promise. Bring that Kantō trophy home."
Kamikawa smirked. "Tezuka's not even gonna get his warm-up in today."
He spun his racket and strutted onto court. Coach Sakaki watched his back like a proud dad who secretly knows his kid's about to commit war crimes with a tennis ball.
Across the net…
Yukimura slapped Mori's shoulder. "I'll drag this as far as it needs to go. After that, it's on you, senpai."
He walked out, pressure heavier than a collapsed stadium on his back. Lose here and Rikkai's fourteen-year Kantō dynasty dies screaming. They'd go into nationals as hunters instead of kings. Unacceptable.
Mori opened his mouth, then shut it. Nothing to say.
"Next match: Singles Two – Ice Emperor Academy's Kamikawa Muzuki versus Rikkai Dai Fuzoku's Yukimura Seiichi!"
They met at the net. Yukimura offered a hand. Kamikawa fist-bumped it like a douche. Yukimura actually blinked—that's new.
"Been over six months since we last played," Yukimura said, soft smile that could kill.
"Now you're Ice Emperor, I'm Rikkai. One of us walks away crying."
"That'll be you," Kamikawa fired back. "And Ice Emperor's taking the whole damn thing."
"Which?"
"Rough."
Racket spins—lands on Rough.
Yukimura glanced. "Guess luck's on my side today. I serve first."
"Hope your luck lasts longer than your stamina."
Yukimura walked back, bouncing the ball.
Ref: "Rikkai serve! Play!"
Deep breath.
Kamikawa Muzuki!!
That nightmare match from half a year ago flashed behind Yukimura's eyes. Time to bury it.
He tossed the ball high, exploded upward—CRACK!
The serve screamed across the court like it had a personal vendetta, kissing the line.
Tezuka off-court narrowed his eyes. "Faster and heavier than the practice match. He's been leveling up in secret."
Kamikawa was already there—BANG! Cross-court laser.
Yukimura, serving from mid-court like a madman, tracked it down and ripped a flat missile right back.
The rally turned into a goddamn artillery duel from minute one. Yukimura attacking like a possessed demon, Kamikawa defending like he had all day, waiting for one tiny mistake.
Everyone in the stands—players, scouts, randos—had the same face: jaw on the floor.
These two are middle-schoolers?!
Yukimura suddenly sliced one that kissed the tape and moon-balled high.
"Net cord!" someone yelled.
Kamikawa slid under it, flicked a sneaky drop shot slice.
Yukimura was already charging—insane read.
Fuji off-court: "He knew that slice was gonna die. That foot speed is disgusting."
Yukimura backed up to the service line, ready for anything.
Kamikawa launched into the air like a missile.
"HRAA!"
A glowing streak wrapped around his arm—BOOM!
The ball turned into a literal flaming meteor, blew past Yukimura's face, and detonated on the baseline so hard it left a scorch mark.
Bounce—skyward at a perfect 45°, then out of the court like it was allergic to Rikkai.
"0-15!"
The ball rolled to Fuji's feet, charred black.
Fuji, voice actually shaking: "He baited the lob with that slice… then punished it with a smash that strong? Holy shit."
Seigaku was speechless.
Atobe's eyes narrowed. "When the hell did he learn a spike that nasty?"
Ninotake: "That thing's stronger than your Tangled Annihilation. Straight-up penetration power—if Grizzly came back with that, the bear would be in two pieces."
"Meteor Flash," Tezuka said calmly. "He tested it in warm-ups. Looks like brute force, but it's riding the exact same spin he put on the maple-leaf slice. The rotation's what makes it explode off the bounce. Everything's connected—if Yukimura doesn't lob, Kamikawa never uses it."
Another rally—same story.
Slice → forced lob → Meteor Flash → ball gone.
"0-30!"
Sanada's face went pale. "He's down 0-30 in his own service game. Is the gap really this big?!"
Renji pushed up his glasses. "That Meteor Flash is outside Yukimura's current control range. The spin makes it rocket off at forty-five degrees—impossible to chase."
Another point. Another meteor.
Yukimura sprinting like his life depended on it just to keep the ball in play.
Final point—Kamikawa's slice dies at the net. Yukimura arrives half a second late. Ball rolls, kisses the net, drops dead.
"Game, Kamikawa! 1-0!"
Yukimura breathing hard, staring at the dead ball.
Then it clicked.
"He layered the maple-leaf spin onto the smash…"
His eyes lifted to Kamikawa across the net, smile gone cold.
This monster just declared war.
Support me by leaving a comment, review and vote
visit my P****on at belamy20