The third day of prelims felt heavier somehow, like the gym itself understood what kind of execution was scheduled. Yuto stood on court with his spare racket, staring across the net at Daichi Yamada. The stands weren't full, but the silence around them felt like a crowd holding its breath anyway.
Daichi didn't look intimidating at first glance. He wasn't huge. He wasn't wild-eyed. He wasn't flexing any anime-level aura. He just stood there with his racket dangling loosely at his side, bored, like he had already seen this match a thousand times and the result was carved into stone.
The whistle blew.
It wasn't a match. Calling it a match would be disrespectful to matches everywhere.
It was a demolition.
Daichi's footwork blurred. His shots carved air. Everything Yuto tried, every high lift, every corner placement, every desperate smash attempt… all of it was returned without effort. Yuto didn't even get the chance to understand the pattern because Daichi wasn't showing one. He wasn't playing with rhythm or tempo. He was simply reacting faster than humans were supposed to react.
21–5.
The second set was worse. Yuto tried to play high again, but Daichi slaughtered the shuttles mid-air. He tried to play low; Daichi's net kills were faster than Yuto's blinks. Yuto attempted a feint, and Daichi had already moved before Yuto even finished the motion.
21–3.
A massacre. A quiet one, which made it even more humiliating.
When Yuto stepped off the court, he wasn't angry. He wasn't crying. He wasn't shaking. He was blank. Shocked without showing it, because the blow had landed too deep for surface reactions.
Tsukiko watched the whole thing from the hallway outside. The Queen of the court, slayer of almost everyone except one person, had expected Yuto to at least show some resistance. Even a little. But what she saw was… cruel. Daichi wasn't just strong. He was levels above. A completely different species in the same sport.
She felt something tighten in her chest. Sympathy? Pity? Annoyance on his behalf? She didn't know. All she knew was that her mixed doubles partner had just been snapped in half.
The washroom door swung shut behind him.
She waited.
She told herself she was waiting to console him out of obligation. Just good sportsmanship. Nothing more. But she also didn't leave.
Then she heard it. A voice. Low. Shaken. But burning.
"Fine… I somewhat understand it now," Yuto muttered. "But I need more strength. More… more."
His breath wavered, but not from crying.
"I'm lucky Senpai chose me to play alongside her in mixed doubles. If not… then this would have been over. I would never have been able to face him again."
There was a pause.
"I will win the mixed doubles. I have to."
Tsukiko's eyes widened. A tiny laugh slipped out of her, the kind that sounded like disbelief and fondness mixed together. This idiot. This stubborn, clueless idiot actually thought he disrespected the sport? She thought she hated him at first. She thought he was one of those gifted brats who walked in thinking talent was enough. She thought he was mocking every hour, every ache, every drop of her sweat.
But no. He wasn't mocking anything.
He was obsessed. Fixated. Determined in a way that didn't even consider disrespect. His head was just crammed full with improvement, pressure, and the thrill of wanting more.
He wasn't arrogant. He was tunnel-visioned.
She leaned on the wall and let out a breath.
"I was actually mad at this guy… why?" she muttered.
She felt it again. That little spark. The fire she'd almost lost last year when Hana Kuremi crushed her. The fire that went crazy when she played with Yuto, because he forced chaos into her precision and she hated it but she loved it too.
She had chosen him as her partner out of anger, out of wanting to teach him a lesson. But now?
Now she was glad she had.
He didn't see her like others did. He didn't treat her as untouchable, as the school's Queen. He didn't cower. He didn't flatter. He didn't grovel.
He just wanted to win.
And hearing him say "I will win the mixed doubles" lit something in her again. Something bold. Something stupid.
She clenched her fists.
"I'm going to beat Hana Kuremi," she whispered to herself. "This time… I'll really do it."
When Yuto finally stepped out, Tsukiko wasn't there anymore. She had walked away, cheeks warm, pretending nothing had happened. Pretending she hadn't waited for him at all.
But the fire inside her kept burning.
And Yuto walked out with the same fire in his eyes too.
Mixed doubles was starting soon. And the pair who were once thrown together out of spite and annoyance were now walking towards the same battlefield with the same ridiculous goal.
They were going to win.