After helping Atobe carry Jirou into the car, Tezuka and the others watched as Atobe drove off.
Before leaving, Atobe cast a deep glance at Tezuka Kunimitsu.
He hadn't forgotten Yoru's words—if he wanted a rematch, he'd first have to defeat Tezuka Kunimitsu.
As the car door closed, Atobe slumped into his seat, completely dazed.
The memory of that Light Strike shot replayed in his mind. If Jirou hadn't intercepted it first and the wire fence hadn't already been damaged, he would've been seriously injured at the very least.
For the first time…
For the first time, he had experienced such a crushing defeat in tennis.
Even if Yoru were a high schooler, the blow wouldn't have been this heavy—but the guy was only a year older than him.
No, not even a full year if you count the months.
Slouched in his seat, Atobe found himself questioning his own abilities for the first time.
"Young Master, Coach Mizuki sent this to Seigaku's gate earlier and instructed me to hand it to you after you left."
The driver passed a file to the back seat.
Inside were detailed profiles of every Seigaku member.
Most of it matched what Mukahi and the others had seen.
The only difference?
Yoru's profile was far more extensive.
Name: Yoru
Class: 2-1
Adoptive Parents: Echizen Nanjiro, Echizen Rinko
Record: Undefeated. Zero points conceded.
Evaluation: Recognized by Nanjiro as a genius surpassing his own skills at the same age.
Abilities: Amplified Replication, Sensory Control, Physical Talent, Ball Sense, Insight, etc.
…
The more Atobe read, the more stunned he became.
How could someone like this exist?
More dazzling than even me.
His talents and skills seemed almost cheat-like.
And his background was just as terrifying—the adopted son of Echizen Nanjiro, the former No. 1 men's tennis player in Asia.
With top-tier guidance and innate talent, the sheer scale of his abilities left Atobe shaken, even stirring a sense of helplessness.
Snap!
Atobe shut the file, his earlier gloom vanishing as a smirk spread across his face.
"Only someone like this is worth defeating! Perfect—I never knew there was such an exciting opponent in middle school tennis. HAHAHAHA!"
His proud laughter echoed through the car.
---
After seeing Atobe off, a club member rushed over and announced, "Tezuka! The captain wants you at Court 1. Everyone else, resume training!"
"Yes, senpai!"
Tezuka jogged to Court 1, where Yoru and Hanna were examining the damaged wire fence.
"Let's use reinforced fencing. Ideally, we should renovate the entire court."
"You're insane. How could you even think of hitting a Light Strike on a court like this?"
"Got a little carried away."
"A full renovation will take at least a week. What about training in the meantime?"
"Don't worry, I'll handle it."
Yoru rubbed his nose awkwardly under Hanna's scolding.
In the heat of the moment, he hadn't considered the court's durability—ordinary middle school courts weren't built to withstand Light Strike shots, even when holding back.
Still, this was a good opportunity to upgrade the facilities.
After last year's Nationals, Seigaku's board had received plenty of new sponsors. It was time for them to invest.
"Captain!"
Tezuka approached the two.
Hanna waved. "I'll leave you to it. Gotta sort this out."
Once she was gone, Yoru turned to Tezuka.
"Heard Fuji challenged you?"
"Yes, Captain."
It wasn't a secret—Kikumaru and the others already knew.
"Have the match soon. Use the court under the overpass—just the two of you. No need to tell anyone else."
Though puzzled, Tezuka nodded. "Understood."
Yoru glanced at Fuji, who was still practicing swings in the distance, then said calmly:
"I want you… to shut him out."
Shut out?
Tezuka's eyes flickered in surprise.
"Go train."
Yoru didn't elaborate.
Not pressing further, Tezuka jogged off.
QP, who had been watching nearby, raised an eyebrow. "I thought you advocated for holding back? Why tell Tezuka to shut Fuji out?"
Yoru smirked.
"Fuji needs a trigger—something to push his mentality to the next level. And Tezuka's the only one who can do that."
Some things were just fate.
With Tezuka at full strength, he'd be the perfect catalyst to ignite Fuji's competitive fire.
---
Life soon returned to normal.
With the courts under renovation, Yoru—now flush with funds—planned to take the regulars on an overseas training trip.
His destination? The U.S., to meet Ralph.
Before the semester started, Ralph had called him. Now in high school, Ralph had taken over the U.S. U17 team and, eager to show off, had extended an invitation.
The timing hadn't been right then, but after the Prefecturals, they'd have a free week.
With a month until the Kanto Regionals, there was plenty of time.
Might as well let these kids see the world.
That afternoon, Yoru and QP finalized the plans with Hanna in the coaching office.
"Then it's settled."
"Hanna, handle the school's approval. Doesn't matter how much funding we get—just make sure they let us go."
"Got it. Right after Prefecturals, right?"
"Yeah."
With everything arranged, Yoru and QP left Seigaku and headed home.
On the way, QP seemed unusually relaxed.
Yoru glanced at him. "You look happy."
QP nodded. "Going to the U.S. to see Ralph and the others… sounds good."
He'd been feeling stifled lately.
Yoru's strength had long surpassed him, and official matches no longer provided meaningful experience.
But Ralph?
He'd make for a decent warm-up.
Yoru chuckled, then rummaged through his bag.
Under QP's bewildered stare, he pulled out a giant baguette and took a bite.
"We're almost home. Do you have to eat that now?"
"I'm starving. No choice."
When a girl says she's hungry, she's a little hungry.
When a guy says he's hungry, he's one second away from death.
QP still couldn't understand Yoru's obsession with baguettes.
Despite carrying a tennis bag daily, half of it was stuffed with bread.
Yoru's reasoning?
"High calorie, portable, and easy to store. No need to waste time buying food—just grab and eat. Efficient."
Logically sound.
But QP still couldn't fathom how anyone could enjoy something so dry and tough.
"Hey. You're Yoru, right?"
A young, rough voice called from behind.
Turning around, they saw a boy with messy brown hair and wild, dead-fish eyes glaring at them.
---