Cherry Blossoms?
Ralph's eyes widened.
After spending the past few years around Nanjiroh Echizen, he was well aware of the man's identity. But he never expected Yoru to choose to attend middle school in Japan.
Ralph frowned in confusion. "Why Japan? Isn't the U.S. better? The tennis environment here is more advanced, isn't it?"
"I have my reasons."
Yoru shook his head, repeating the same excuse he'd given Ryoma—that he was going back to keep his aunt company.
As for the U.S. having a better tennis environment?
Yeah, right.
In the original series, aside from Ralph himself, the U.S. U-17 team didn't have many standout players.
As the two continued talking, the match on the court had already begun.
Just as Ryoma had said, his opponent was pathetically weak. There was zero pressure in the match.
But Ralph's expression shifted to shock.
From Ryoma's performance alone, none of the so-called "geniuses" Ralph knew in the same age group could even compare.
For a moment, Ralph stumbled over his words. "N-Nan… your little brother… he's insanely strong."
"Of course."
Yoru smirked.
Given the two-year age gap in competitive brackets, there was practically no one in the U.S. right now who could rival Ryoma—except for that one kid from the movie, what's-his-name… Kevin?
But even Kevin was several tiers below.
In the original series, the U.S. U-17 team never even introduced any noteworthy middle schoolers.
And knowing the author's style? If they weren't shown, they were definitely scrubs.
Casually, Yoru glanced at Ralph Reinhard's stats:
[Name]: Ralph Reinhard
[Age]: 14
[Techniques]:
Base Stats (Level 7) Tennis Fundamentals (Level 8) Bullet Serve (Level 7) Sharp Angle Drive (Level 7)
[Talent]: Adaptation – Continuously refines weaknesses during matches, evolving in real-time.
[Power Level]: 8 Stars
Clearly influenced by Yoru's presence, Ralph's growth had accelerated far beyond its original trajectory.
That Adaptation talent was downright broken—the more intense the opponent, the faster Ralph improved mid-match.
Yoru had personally witnessed Ralph's power level skyrocketing during a game.
Of course, that only happened in their first few matches. After that, the growth slowed—likely because Ralph had hit a developmental bottleneck.
In tennis, the biggest limiting factor was always physical maturity.
Body development dictated the ceiling for skill progression.
Still, thanks to Adaptation, Ralph's tennis fundamentals had actually surpassed his base stats—a rare and unusual trait.
BEEP!
Final Score: 6-0. Winner: Echizen Ryoma!
"Congratulations to Echizen Ryoma for winning the U12 division of this year's All-American Junior Tennis Championship! Let's give him a round of applause!"
About ten minutes later, Ryoma ended the match with a brutal smash, securing his first-ever national title.
"Shake hands!" the umpire called.
Ryoma's opponent, still dazed, stared at the humiliating score before finally breaking down in tears.
He'd fought hard to reach the finals… only to get annihilated without winning a single game.
Ryoma's cheeks flushed slightly.
Even if the match had been boring, this was still his first championship.
After the handshake, the organizers quickly set up the podium.
Amid cheers and applause, Ryoma lifted the trophy high—the U12 champion of the All-American Junior Tennis Championship.
The stadium erupted in thunderous applause.
"Congrats, Ryoma. Your first championship!"
The moment Ryoma stepped off the podium, Yoru's voice reached him.
The usually cool-faced boy instantly cracked a smug grin. "Mada mada dane. They weren't even a challenge. So boring."
This little brat…
Yoru rolled his eyes.
As Ryoma grew older—and more aware of his own skill—he'd started reverting to his classic, cocky personality.
Whenever he wasn't the one playing, he'd act like an insufferable prodigy.
"Not bad, Ryoma. You're pretty strong."
Ralph was still reeling from shock.
At Ryoma's age, he hadn't been anywhere near this level.
Then again, considering Ryoma's father and older brother… maybe it wasn't so surprising.
"Now that your brother's done… it's our turn, right?"
Ralph rubbed his hands together eagerly, like a fly preparing for a feast.
Yoru nodded. "Might as well use this court. The condition's good."
Once most of the crowd had cleared out, Yoru and Ralph stepped onto the court to warm up, while Ryoma climbed into the umpire's chair.
"How about a bet?"
Ralph stretched casually, a playful smirk on his face.
"What kind?"
"If I win more than three points off you… you stay in the U.S. Come to my school, then join the U.S. U-17 team after graduation."
Ralph straightened up, his expression turning serious.
Yoru didn't answer immediately. Instead, he studied Ralph for a long moment before finally saying, "You got a U-17 invitation already, didn't you?"
Ralph didn't deny it. He simply nodded.
Unlike Japan, the U.S. actively recruited talented middle schoolers early.
Even though Ralph wouldn't start high school until next semester, his stellar performances—combined with being a native—had already earned him an early U-17 invitation.
"Fine."
Yoru smiled. Then, planting his racket on the ground, he asked, "Heads or tails?"
"Heads."
With a flick, Yoru spun the racket. Under the watchful eyes of Ryoma and Ralph, it landed—grip-side up.
Without another word, Ralph turned and walked to the baseline.
Yoru bounced the ball a few times, the rhythmic thumps echoing across the empty stadium.
"Huh?"
"There's another match?"
"That Asian kid looks familiar…"
"Isn't that last year's champion? Nan something… from China!"
"Wait, the current champion's the umpire?"
"Looks like we're getting bonus tennis!"
Spectators who hadn't left yet quickly reclaimed their seats.
Yoru caught the ball, his gaze sharpening.
Unlike Ryoma's match, Ralph was—without a doubt—the only real rival he'd encountered in years.
Especially after being pushed by Yoru repeatedly, Ralph had refined himself to a level far beyond his age.
After all, in the original story, Ralph had been strong enough to defeat Amadeus, the Swiss team's ace.
WHOOSH—
Yoru tossed the ball high, leaping into the air as it reached its peak.
The moment his racket connected, the ball warped, distorting into an irregular ellipse before blasting past Ralph like a laser.
Too fast.
Ralph's pupils contracted—just as a chill shot up his spine.
The ball had already ricocheted off the back wall before he could even react.
15-0!
Yoru took the first point effortlessly.
Ralph turned mechanically, staring at the ball rolling against the fence, disbelief flooding his eyes.
"You always thought I wasn't taking our matches seriously, didn't you?" Yoru grinned. "Well, today, I'll play with you properly."