Seven days later.
Yoru was preparing to return to Sakura.
All the objectives of his trip to Germany had been accomplished—and beyond that, he'd even gained an unexpected prize.
Airport. Departure Lounge.
"Wait, you can just report your absence and leave Germany for three months?"
Yoru stared at QP with envy.
A few days ago, after casually mentioning the existence of someone with the potential for Aichi Gōki (Loyalty's Radiance), QP had agreed to accompany him to Sakura.
In exchange, QP would help them through the entire national tournament.
With QP joining, Seigaku finally had a real shot at winning the championship.
"I told the head coach that I found someone who possesses Gōki no Hikari (Radiance of Loyalty), and he approved," QP explained.
"Besides, being around you helps me refine my own shortcomings. The head coach noticed that too."
During his time in Germany, Yoru had been acting as QP's sparring partner—essentially injecting some "steroids" into his own "two-horsepower engine."
"Didn't you find anyone in Germany who has Aichi no Hikari (Radiance of Love and Wisdom)?" Yoru asked, puzzled.
In the original story, it was never explained how QP obtained both Rakuboku no Hikari (Radiance of Solitude) and Aichi no Hikari.
By the World Cup arc, when he faced Oni Jūjirō, he forced the latter to unleash Gōki no Hikari, completing his own ultimate evolution.
But in Yoru's memory, there should've been plenty of users of Aichi and Rakuboku.
Sakura alone had a bunch—even Tezuka was a wielder of Aichi no Hikari.
QP shook his head. "Due to Germany's tennis environment, where absolute victory is prioritized, the philosophy of Aichi no Hikari is fundamentally opposed. Very few here develop it. Most who awaken Kyōji no Hikari (Pinnacle of Perfection) end up walking the path of Rakuboku no Hikari instead."
Yoru understood.
That made perfect sense for Germany's ruthlessly efficient, results-driven approach—where the process was irrelevant as long as the outcome was secured.
Worth noting:
Over the past few days of sparring with QP, most of Yoru's techniques had improved, pushing his combat rating to 10 stars.
When he asked the system why, the explanation was simple:
His Five Stats and Fundamentals were so far ahead that lower-level techniques naturally evolved through usage—a passive form of growth.
[Status]
- Name: Yoru
- Age: 12
- Techniques:
- Personal Five Stats (Lv. 9)
- Tennis Fundamentals (Lv. 9)
- Twist Serve (Lv. 8)
- Two-Sword Style (Lv. 8)
- Split-Step (Lv. 8)
- Zone (Lv. 8)
- Inverse Zone (Lv. 8)
- Muga no Kyōchi (Lv. 8)
- Hyakuren no Kiwami (Lv. 8)
- Sharp Angle Drive (Lv. 8)
- Combat Rating: 10 Stars
- Talents:
- Ten Senses Control
- Perfect Copy
- Super-Perfect Quality
While powering up was always a good thing, Yoru couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing.
It was like...
The satisfaction of grinding for strength paled in comparison to the sheer joy of having someone else do the work for him.
And reality proved him right.
As his techniques self-improved, the system's feedback on Ryoma's progress grew sparser.
"Guess before the main story starts, I'll have to rely on you."
Yoru turned to QP with a "gentle" smile.
QP: "...?"
---
Metropolitan Tournament – Quarterfinals
So far, Seigaku had been lucky, facing relatively weak opponents.
But in the quarterfinals, they were up against Ginka Middle School—a long-standing powerhouse that made it to the Kanto Tournament almost every year.
Their overall strength surpassed Seigaku's.
Seigaku vs. Ginka Middle School
"Game set! Final score: 7-5! Seigaku wins!"
As the umpire announced the result, the entire Seigaku team exhaled in relief.
On the court, Sensui and Kaidō collapsed to their knees, exhausted.
Since Seigaku had one default forfeit slot, they could afford to lose only one match—which put immense pressure on their doubles pairs.
Unfortunately, Ginka's doubles teams were veteran specialists.
First Match:
While their raw skill might've been slightly below Kawasaki and Nishimura's, the gap wasn't huge. Their seamless coordination earned Ginka the first point.
Coach Ryūzaki nearly had a heart attack on the sidelines.
Losing the first match meant all the pressure shifted to Sensui and Kaidō in Doubles 2.
They started at a disadvantage, struggling against Ginka's new tactics.
Fortunately, Kaidō attempted the "Boomerang Snake Shot"—a move Yoru had hinted at—and managed to turn the tide.
The match ended in a 1-1 tie.
"Good work!"
Yamato handed them water before stepping onto the court for Singles 3.
Yamato Yūda vs. Amagami Kōsuke
Yamato played cautiously, avoiding early reveals and testing the waters first.
A smart move.
Amagami Kōsuke had exceptional fast-paced techniques.
If not for Yamato's brutal training sessions with Kirihara—forcing him to adapt to high-speed rallies—this match would've been tough.
After several exchanges, Yamato stopped holding back and unleashed his signature "Displacement Shot", securing a 6-1 victory.
Only after Singles 3 did Ryūzaki finally relax.
She turned to Kirihara.
"Go finish this."
With Yoru absent, Kirihara was Seigaku's most reliable player. Entrusting him with the win was the only way to feel at ease.
"Yeah, yeah."
"Didn't need you to tell me."
Kirihara had little respect for Ryūzaki.
As someone who worshipped Yoru like a god, he despised her passivity. But for his captain's sake, he'd crush this match.
Singles 2:
Opponent—Taira Atsuhira.
Had Yoru been present, he'd have recognized both Singles 3 and Singles 2 opponents as U-17 camp extras from the original series—ones with actual lines, no less.
But against Kirihara, the skill gap was obvious.
Within ten minutes, the score was 5-0.
No suspense. Kirihara's routine was simple: serve → score, return → score. Rarely did any rally exceed four shots.
BAM!
"Game set! Seigaku wins, 6-0!"
With that final point, Seigaku advanced to the semifinals with a 3-1 overall victory.
"The captain should be back soon..."
Kirihara frowned, glancing toward the rest area.
In Yoru's absence, the tennis club had grown lax.
Aside from Yamato, many members—even regulars—had started slacking in training. Kawasaki and the others, feeling they'd hit their limits, no longer pushed themselves. Only Kaidō showed some improvement.
Yamato's authority wasn't enough to rein in veterans like Kawasaki, who often ignored him.
Kirihara's words carried weight, but even then, responses were half-hearted.
Ryūzaki's occasional reminders did little, deepening Kirihara's disdain.
"Don't overthink it."
Yamato patted his shoulder. "The captain will return soon. Things will go back to normal."
He understood Kirihara's frustration.
But in this situation, neither of them could do much—they could only wait for their core to return.