In a basketball game, being able to read what the opponent intends to do allows you to be better prepared during their offense; in a gymnastics competition, you need to read the opponent's strength and clearly understand how to score higher than them; and in a fencing match, you must try your best to decipher the opponent's attacking intentions and lines.
This is what it means for an expert to see the essence.
In these few brief exchanges, Ishikawa Hikaru had already demonstrated his astonishing athletic ability and his capacity for understanding and learning to Hayama Hayato.
Ishikawa Hikaru's first shot was simply a test—to determine the degree of force required for a normal return.
During the second exchange, Ishikawa Hikaru had already grasped the necessary force for a normal return. However, lacking experience in dealing with spin balls, the spin shot he attempted resulted in the ball flying out of bounds.
By the third rally, Ishikawa Hikaru had begun experimenting with how to apply spin to his serve, which again caused the ball to go out of bounds.
Even though Ishikawa Hikaru still had not scored a single point against him, Hayama Hayato did not dare feel optimistic about the advantage he currently held.
"If anyone else had said that, I might have assumed they were bragging. But coming from you, I can understand why you can say something others would consider utterly arrogant so naturally," Hayama Hayato said, gripping his racket with both hands in a ready stance. "Because in your eyes, this is simply the truth you perceive."
"I still believe that there is always someone stronger beyond the heavens."
Ishikawa Hikaru bounced the tennis ball in his hand again.
"I only have a little bit of talent, but I lack effort. Yet many people in this world possess talent equal to—or even far surpassing—mine, and they have also spent ten years training relentlessly, drenched in sweat. Only by combining effort and talent and pushing both to their limits can one reach heights that ordinary people cannot attain in certain fields.
But human energy and lifespan are limited, so most of the time I can only focus my energy on things that interest me.
So it's fine for me to just play around at the level of my peers. But if I truly wanted to become accomplished in something, my pure talent alone wouldn't rank particularly high."
Hayama Hayato subconsciously tightened his grip on the racket.
"Is that the self-awareness of a genius?"
"In my view, what people call geniuses, including myself, are simply individuals who are born with significant advantages in certain aspects or fields. Most people just haven't realized where they are superior to others, nor where they are inferior to others."
Ishikawa Hikaru stopped bouncing the ball and assumed the ready position to serve.
"That's why there is a saying in this world: 'Thousand-mile horses are common, but a Bole is rare.'(Talent is everywhere; appreciation is rare. Without a stage, potential is lost..)
Not everyone can discover their own advantages as early as I did. Nor does everyone have parents willing to support their child's interests and expose them to many opportunities so they can discover their talents.
That is simply how society works.
Family environment, parental views, social conditions, as well as the child's own talent and effort—all of these are closely tied to the birth of a genius. Families with resources naturally have more opportunities and a better environment to cultivate such people.
But discussing clichés about talent and effort—these empty grand principles—becomes rather meaningless when spoken aloud. If we ever have time, we can discuss them in depth and share our respective views.
But Hayama-kun, enough idle chatter for now. I'm about to serve."
Hayama Hayato stopped speaking as well and became extremely vigilant.
Ishikawa Hikaru tossed the tennis ball into the air and lightly jumped as he struck it.
The moment the yellow-green tennis ball made contact with the racket, it shot forward like an arrow released from a bow.
Before Hayama Hayato could even react, the ball had already landed on his side of the court. He instinctively attempted to return it, but the speed was too great, and he missed completely. The tennis ball flew straight into the safety net behind him.
Miura Yumiko announced the result in surprise.
"A—Ace—!"
Hayama Hayato stood where he was, taking a deep breath with a complicated expression.
"The speed of that serve must have exceeded 150 kilometers per hour, right?"
"Visually, it seemed around that speed. If measured precisely, it might be a little less," Ishikawa Hikaru said with a smile. "Don't forget—when I was a first-year student, the baseball club coach evaluated me as a natural-born pitcher. Throwing a baseball at 140 kilometers per hour with just my arm was already possible for me, let alone now that I have a racket to generate additional power."
"It's truly… astonishing. It's hard to believe that a beginner who has never touched a tennis racket could perform like this in a real match."
Hayama Hayato genuinely didn't know how to describe his complicated emotions. He simply turned around, picked up the tennis ball, and asked,
"How did you do that?"
"It's very simple. It's just the principle of leverage."
Ishikawa Hikaru casually swung his racket as he explained.
"Although baseball and tennis differ in rules and the number of participants, they are both human sports and cannot violate the natural mechanics of the human body.
Baseball pitchers also rely on generating power from their legs, transferring it through their waist, shoulders, arms, and wrists before finally releasing the ball.
If you think of tennis and baseball as stones, and the tennis racket together with the arm and shoulder as a launching device used to throw those stones, then it becomes easier to understand how ancient humans hunted prey.
After all, a stone thrown at even thirty or forty kilometers per hour could seriously injure small prey.
If it were replaced with a spear, it could become a fatal strike.
The ability to throw—and to use tools to throw—is embedded deeply within human instinct. Almost all sports are simply variations of throwing or striking objects with tools.
So if I were reincarnated as a primitive human who hunts and drinks blood, perhaps I could become the tribe's ace hunter.
Or perhaps I'd simply be dragged away by a wild beast and eaten immediately after reincarnating."
The reality unfolded almost exactly as Hayama Hayato had anticipated.
Ishikawa Hikaru's improvement while playing against him was unbelievably rapid. It took nearly three games before Ishikawa could begin exchanging rallies evenly with him. By the fourth game, he was able to engage in genuine back-and-forth rallies with fluctuating scores. He even managed to win his first game against Hayama, narrowing the score to four to one.
After that came his relentless pursuit of the score.
Hayama Hayato, who had initially been both vigilant and relatively relaxed, gradually found himself unable to keep up.
By the time the score reached four to four, Hayama Hayato was exhausted and drenched in sweat, while Ishikawa Hikaru was only slightly out of breath.
The gap in skill had already been closed by Ishikawa's talent and learning ability. What remained was simply a contest of stamina and mental resilience.
And in those aspects, Ishikawa Hikaru clearly held the advantage.
Even though the score appeared tied on the surface, the outcome of the match had essentially been decided the moment Ishikawa began his relentless comeback.
Yet even so, Hayama Hayato never once considered conceding.
Being technically inferior simply meant being inferior. But matches like this allowed him to clearly recognize both his own abilities and the gap between himself and others. Losing to a strong opponent was not shameful—in fact, sparring with such an opponent could only increase his experience.
Just as Hayama Hayato prepared to toss the ball up for another serve, Ishikawa Hikaru suddenly spoke.
"Forget it. I concede."
"W-Why?"
"Because I'm hungry."
Ishikawa Hikaru carried his racket over to a nearby seat and set it down. He raised both hands and gave a thumbs-up to Miura Yumiko and Hayama Hayato.
"I'll go buy you guys something to eat and drink."
Under their astonished gazes, he briskly left the tennis court.
"I see…"
Hayama Hayato took a deep breath and calmed himself before turning to Miura Yumiko, who had just stepped down from the umpire's chair.
"Yumiko must be shocked too, right? Ishikawa pushed me this far even though he just started playing tennis today."
"He's practically a monster," Miura Yumiko said with lingering shock. "In just eight games he went from not even understanding how to generate force as a beginner to skillfully using topspin and slice—and even serving a slice serve like an amateur expert. I can't imagine how strong he would become with proper training."
"I suspect the baseball coach at our school feels the same way about Ishikawa as we do now," Hayama Hayato said quietly while looking at the racket in his hand. "Unfortunately, his ambitions lie elsewhere. Even if he possesses incredible athletic talent, he won't use it for sports."
Miura Yumiko sighed softly.
"He became a famous light novel author at such a young age, and even his athletic talent is monstrous… Heaven is truly unfair. It gives everything to him—things that many people dream of—yet he doesn't seem to care about any of it."
Hayama Hayato smiled slightly.
"Yumiko, are you jealous of Ishikawa's talent?"
"A little."
Miura Yumiko admitted honestly.
"If I had Ishikawa Hikaru's level of talent, I would definitely aim to become a professional tennis player. But when I was a prefectural representative in middle school, I saw too many true geniuses. That's when I realized my efforts alone would never catch up to those who had both talent and greater dedication than me. That's why I didn't join the tennis club after entering Sobu High."
"I see."
Hayama Hayato sat down on the bench beside her.
"Then what do you want to do in the future?"
Miura Yumiko thought for a moment.
"I like jobs that are glamorous but practical. Maybe I'll try to become a fashion designer in the future… or maybe a beautician doing manicures. Hayato, aren't we going to have work experience soon? What about you?"
"My future path will probably be toward becoming a lawyer," Hayama Hayato said with a faint sigh. "My father is a very successful lawyer. If I can enter the Faculty of Law at Todai, he could help me a lot."
"T-Todai…"
The University of Tokyo was the institution most famous for producing elites and geniuses in Japan. Its law and medical faculties were especially competitive.
"But it's probably impossible," Hayama Hayato said with a helpless smile. "Even though my academic scores are high, compared with geniuses across the country there is still a huge gap. I'm afraid that gap cannot be bridged by effort alone."
Miura Yumiko clenched her fist.
"I believe you can do it! You can get into Todai! And even if you can't, I'm sure you'll still become a successful lawyer!"
Hayama Hayato smiled and looked toward the red sunset spreading across the horizon.
"Even if true geniuses possess talent that others envy or resent, ordinary people like us sometimes still have the chance to stand on the same starting line as them—and sometimes even defeat them.
Losing to someone truly strong isn't shameful. What would be shameful is refusing to work hard and blaming everything on talent."
At that moment, Ishikawa Hikaru returned to the tennis court carrying a bag of crepes in one hand and three bottles of mineral water in the other.
"I passed by the water park earlier—it actually looks pretty fun."
He sat down beside Hayama and handed them crepes and drinks.
"Maybe you two can go play there this weekend. It should be a nice way to cool off in the summer."
Hayama nodded.
"That sounds possible."
Miura Yumiko's eyes lit up.
"Just the two of us?"
"Let's see if the others want to come," Hayama said with a smile. "It'll be more fun if everyone goes together."
"I knew you'd say that."
Ishikawa Hikaru pulled out a stack of water park tickets and handed them to Hayama.
"There are seven tickets. I bought them when I passed by—just a small token of appreciation for the help you two gave me."
A slight regret passed through his mind.
If Hayama had said he would only go with Miura Yumiko, he would have smoothly handed over just two tickets and let them enjoy a proper date.
But Miura had missed the perfect moment during the sunset tennis match.
Hayama accepted the tickets with a smile.
"Wouldn't this be a little inappropriate?"
"I don't think so. I can't just accept your help without giving something back."
Ishikawa stood up.
"I still have things to do, so I'll leave first. Hayato, please take Miura-san home later."
Miura smiled brightly.
"Right. We've known each other for so long, and most of the time I go home alone. You boys haven't protected us girls very well."
"Sorry, sorry."
"Remember to message me on Line when you get home," Ishikawa waved.
Then he left.
Walking alone beneath the setting sun, Ishikawa Hikaru sighed softly.
"Romance…"
Even though he believed human potential was infinite, that referred only to future growth, not the present moment.
Based on today's events, Miura Yumiko's romance would probably fail.
He looked at the sunset clouds.
The famous Japanese writer Natsume Soseki once said that instead of directly translating "I love you," it should be expressed as:
"The moon is beautiful tonight, isn't it?"
Because the key was not the words themselves, but the subtle emotion hidden behind them.
The same scenery could mean different things to different people.
A romantic sunset to one person…
To another, it might be something entirely different.
Miura Yumiko had missed her chance.
Without outside intervention, the relationship between her and Hayama would probably become like Zhou Yu and Huang Gai—one willing to strike, the other willing to be struck.(Enabler & Masochist).
Thinking of this, Ishikawa Hikaru took out his phone, photographed the sunset street scene, and sent it to Yamada Elf.
"The sunset is beautiful."