(Note: I changed "Tetsuto Fuwa" to "Nakagauchi Gedou" based on a reader's feedback. While I couldn't verify if Fuwa was the next captain of Mokushi Tai, I decided to prioritize accuracy to the original work.)
---
After announcing the team's dismissal, Yoru quickly grabbed his tennis bag and left.
He wanted to avoid too many questions that might expose his act.
The team members were too hyped up to notice his abrupt departure—or the inconsistencies in his story.
Even the self-proclaimed "descendant of a traditional medicine practitioner" was fully convinced, believing this was some advanced acupressure technique he'd never learned before.
But Yoru forgot one thing.
While he successfully dodged everyone else's questions, he overlooked the one person whose curiosity never sleeps—QP.
The entire way home, QP bombarded him with questions.
"Stop asking. Daxia's culture is vast and profound. Go visit someday if you're so curious," Yoru said, exasperated.
But even after they got home, QP wouldn't let up.
Fed up, Yoru used Ten'i Muhou to drag QP into a forced slumber, then unceremoniously dumped him in his room.
---
Yoru headed to the backyard, where he found Nanjiroh Echizen in his usual spot—leaning against the porch, flipping through a risqué magazine with that signature pervy grin.
"Old man, we're playing Yamabuki tomorrow. Wanna come watch? It's the Metropolitan Finals."
"Yamabuki? The Metropolitan Finals?"
Nanjiroh raised an eyebrow.
In his experience, Yoru hated having people watch his matches. The last time Nanjiroh showed up to one of his games—a junior tournament in America—he'd cheered like a madman, waving flags and blowing horns every time Yoru scored.
The trauma from that incident ensured Yoru never invited him again.
Nanjiroh squinted. "Why the sudden change of heart? You setting me up for something?"
He even clutched his magazine protectively, scooting back a little.
Yoru rolled his eyes. "Your old flame, Mikito Tōyama, is coaching Yamabuki now. Thought you might wanna see me wipe the floor with his team."
"That old bastard's still alive?!"
Nanjiroh's eye twitched.
Years ago, when he was Seigaku's ace, leading them toward a national championship, his team suffered a crushing defeat against an unknown school coached by Tōyama. Every single one of his teammates lost—badly.
And Tōyama's infuriatingly smug smile made it even worse.
"Gah! He's still kicking?! Yamabuki, you said?!"
Nanjiroh shot to his feet. "Hold on, I'm gonna go cuss him out right now—I can't wait till tomorrow!"
He stormed to the backyard, digging out his rusty old bicycle.
Yoru stopped him with a sigh. "Relax. The match is tomorrow. Just watch me destroy them."
He adjusted his jacket with a smirk. "One way or another—I'll win the matches you couldn't."
With that, he walked off, leaving Nanjiroh speechless.
---
Next Morning – Metropolitan Tournament Venue
Since their driver caught a fever overnight, the team had to meet at the venue on their own.
When Kiriharu showed up with dark circles under his eyes, Yoru raised an eyebrow.
"Did you… reward yourself last night?"
"N-no! I practiced that drill all night!" Kiriharu swayed on his feet but grinned deliriously. "Gotta outwork everyone… hehehe~"
Despite his exhaustion, his eyes burned with determination. "Buchou, I feel unstoppable now! My swing speed's like, a hundred times faster!"
Yoru deadpanned. "That drill only works the first time. After that, it just builds endurance."
"A hundred times faster" from one night?
Might as well make you the protagonist, huh?
"WHAT?!"
Kiriharu's screech echoed through the venue.
---
Match Start – Crowds Gather
"Look, look! That's Seigaku's captain! So handsome!"
"Handsome? He's insanely strong too!"
"Ahhh~ My king~!"
A section of the stands was packed with high school girls in uniforms, their chatter filling the air. After yesterday's match, Yoru's reputation (and looks) had drawn quite the fanbase.
"Damn, good-looking guys have it easy," muttered the male spectators, green with envy.
---
Seigaku's Strategy Meeting
Yoru finalized the lineup: "Doubles pairs stay the same. Singles 3: Kiriharu. Singles 2: QP. Singles 1: Me. Any objections?"
Silence.
Well, except for Kiriharu, who was already snoring.
Kawasaki nudged him. "Kiriharu, wake up. The match is starting."
Yamato hesitated. "Let him sleep a bit longer. Singles 3 won't be for a while. He needs the rest."
Yoru nodded in agreement.
---
Yamabuki's Side – Tōyama's Adjustment
Tōyama Mikito observed Seigaku's lineup and smirked.
"Change of plans. Taniguchi and Banjo will play Doubles 2. Natsuki and Ichiyo in Doubles 1."
He glanced at Nakagauchi Gedou. "Miyako, you're on Singles 3. Nakagauchi, Singles 2. Matsudaira, you're Singles 1."
He suspected Yoru would take Singles 1 this time, given yesterday's tactical play against Hyotei.
Nakagauchi opened his mouth to protest but stopped.
Team victory came first.
---
Announcement
"Metropolitan Finals: Seigaku vs. Yamabuki. Doubles 2 players, please prepare. Match begins in 10 minutes!"
---
Seigaku's Reaction
"They changed their lineup," Yamato noted, scanning the opponents.
Taniguchi and Banjo usually played Doubles 1. This was clearly a move to secure a doubles win.
Kawasaki smirked. "Heh. They underestimate us."
Thanks to Yoru's speed drills, he felt unstoppable.
"Let's go, Kawasaki-senpai!" Yamato said, eyes gleaming.
Power Level: +0.5!
"They'd never expect how much we've improved. We're winning this, senpai!"
Power Level: +0.7!
With newfound confidence, they strode onto the court.
---
Yamabuki's Confidence
Taniguchi exchanged a glance with Banjo. "They seem awfully sure of themselves."
According to Tōyama's intel, Yamato was strong individually, but his partnership with Kawasaki was still new—weaker than Kaidou's pair.
If they secured this doubles point, the momentum would be theirs.
Plus, one of Seigaku's players looked half-dead.
Advantage: Yamabuki.
Snap.
Tōyama closed his notebook, smirking at Yoru.
"Youth these days… too arrogant."
---
Meanwhile, in the Stands…
A man in a black kimono, sunglasses, and a face mask shuffled through the crowd, shouting:
"Beer! Soda! Snacks! Peanuts! Move your legs, folks!"