Coach's Office.
Knock, knock—
Yoru rapped on the door.
A voice floated from inside: "Come in."
Entering, he found Ryūzaki standing by the window, watching the ongoing matches below.
Clearly, she had just witnessed everything that happened.
"Removing Nishimura as a regular and giving his spot to a newcomer outright might stir discontent in the club," Ryūzaki said, turning to sit back down.
Yoru replied calmly, "Coach Ryūzaki, are you suggesting newcomers should spend a year picking up balls first? Or are you questioning my decision to discipline Nishimura?"
"..."
The words tore off Ryūzaki's facade, leaving her momentarily speechless.
After Seigaku's reforms, the old rule of forcing first-years to spend a year as ball boys had been widely criticized.
It was framed as "tempering arrogance and building character," but in reality, it wasted talent and bred resentment between upper and lowerclassmen.
She had seen the changes in Seigaku lately—rising strength, revitalized energy.
Yoru handed her a file. "QP's enrollment and club registration paperwork. Handle it, please."
"If you're about to lecture me about 'team harmony,' save your breath. I'm not interested."
Ryūzaki's face darkened. "Is winning all you care about? Nishimura contributed a lot! He played a big role in getting Seigaku to the semifinals!"
"Which is why I only stripped his regular spot instead of kicking him out!"
Yoru's gaze pinned her in place, sharp enough to make her skin crawl.
"Coach Ryūzaki, your idea of 'harmony' is letting the club slack off? Letting Seigaku slide back into being a dump? What were YOU doing while they slacked?"
"They've been training hard! It's natural to want a break—they're human, not machines!"
"If they can't compete on talent, they'd better outwork the competition. Players stronger than them are still grinding—what's their excuse? Are you joking?"
"Not everyone's dream is tennis! Some might just be here for fun or other reasons. You can't expect them all to train like Kirihara or Yamato!"
"If they joined Seigaku's tennis club, they follow the rules. You don't get rewards without effort. I don't care why they're here—if they stay, they train MY way!"
Yoru almost laughed at her logic.
Truly, "Argue with those who share your goals, not fools who don't."
"If you think I'm wrong, remove me as captain. But as long as I'm in charge, this club runs MY way."
With that, he walked out, cutting off any further debate.
SLAM!
The door shut.
Ryūzaki slumped into her chair, deflated.
Deep down, she knew Yoru was right.
But her pride refused to bend—especially as Seigaku became his domain, leaving her increasingly irrelevant.
She had wanted reform, yes. She'd given him the stage, let him act as her proxy.
But the changes had spiraled beyond her control.
Could she remove him as captain?
Technically, yes.
In reality? She didn't dare.
Forget explaining it to Nanjirō.
The club revered Yoru now. Only he could command Seigaku's current roster.
His one-week absence had thrown everything into chaos—not just due to her inaction, but because their backbone was gone.
"Sigh..."
A weary exhale. New wrinkles seemed to etch into her face.
Her eyes fell on QP's file.
"QP, second year. Member of Germany's... Elite Club?!"
Her eyes widened.
She wasn't ignorant. The Elite Club was a gathering of the world's top junior talents—its members were all prodigies.
Yoru had gone to Germany and brought back a monster.
"Yoru..."
She'd assumed he'd skipped matches for a vacation. Instead, he'd been strengthening Seigaku.
Compared to her own passivity...
Shame burned in her chest.
---
Courtside.
The challenge matches against QP had stopped.
After Nishimura's 6-0 humiliation, the eager challengers quickly lost their nerve.
If a regular couldn't take a single game, QP was clearly on the "Big Three's" level—far beyond them.
"Captain!"
The crowd quieted instantly as Yoru arrived.
"How many?" he asked QP.
"One. Him." QP pointed at the shell-shocked Nishimura.
Yoru smirked. "At least you had the guts to challenge him first."
"Everyone—back to training!"
"And no 'extra practice' shortcuts. I remember every slacker. MOVE!"
"YES, CAPTAIN!"
The club scattered.
Kirihara gave a nod before resuming drills. Yamato left to prep for the tournament.
Once alone with QP, Yoru handed him a German-written training regimen.
"From today, you're part of Seigaku. This is our standard program."
QP scanned it, hesitating. "The intensity is manageable, but I have a personalized regimen. This one..."
"Try ours first, then yours. Trust me—you'll see results."
"..."
QP gave him a skeptical look but headed to the courts, willing to humor him.
Once he was out of earshot, Yoru added QP to the "Elite Training" slot in his system—granting him 300% efficiency.
It wasn't that Nanjirō's regimen was better than a custom one.
But QP's body awareness was too sharp. He'd notice the unnatural gains. Blaming the regimen was simpler than explaining "magic system buffs."
With Yoru back, Seigaku's gears realigned.
Now, they had the firepower to aim for nationals.
"Captain, the tournament bracket."
Yamato returned, handing him the schedule.
"Thanks. Good work."
"It's nothing. Everything's back to normal now that you're here."
Yamato smiled, watching the club train with renewed vigor.
Yoru's eyes locked onto the next opponent.
"Semifinals... Hyōtei."