(Reminder: The match order in the national tournament is—Singles 3, Doubles 2, Singles 2, Doubles 1, Singles 1.)
9:00 AM.
National Tournament Quarterfinals.
Seigaku vs. Shitenhouji.
Both teams arrived early, waiting for the match to begin.
"They're here~"
Hirakoba Ryouji observed Seigaku's well-prepared lineup, then glanced at his own team's… eclectic assembly. His expression remained calm.
At this stage of the nationals, every team had already researched their opponents. Though Seigaku was a newcomer, their roster was no longer a mystery.
Hirakoba knew—today's match was likely a lost cause.
But as Shitenhouji's captain, he had to fight for even the slimmest chance.
Seigaku's doubles were their weak point, while Shitenhouji's pairs were solid—especially his own combo with Hara Tetsuya. Though they'd only partnered for one season, their chemistry was top-tier.
Hirakoba turned to the drowsy figure beside him. "Mori, you're up for Singles 3."
"Mmm~" Mori Juushirou mumbled, half-asleep, before rolling over.
Hara chuckled. "Coach, looks like we're going all out today."
"We're graduating soon. Gotta seize every opportunity. Life's full of missed chances—might as well try grabbing one."
After final adjustments, Shitenhouji submitted their lineup.
---
"No changes to our roster. Whoever faces Hirakoba's pair—learn from a top-tier doubles team."
"YES!" Seigaku's team roared in response.
Both lineups were locked in.
The referee blew his whistle. "National Quarterfinals—Seigaku vs. Shitenhouji! Singles 3 players, prepare!"
Hirakoba shook Mori awake. "Stop sleeping. It's your match!"
"Hn?" Rubbing his messy hair, Mori yawned, grabbed his racket, and trudged onto the court to warm up.
"WHY?!" Kirihara gaped.
He'd been waiting at Singles 1 for his opponent… who was now playing Singles 3?!
Yamato patted his shoulder. "Kirihara-senpai, I heard from the captain—there's a brain tonic in China called Nao Bai Jin. Wanna try it?"
"What's that?"
"Sugar water."
"I don't like sweets!"
"Eat more. Sugar fuels the brain. You need it."
"Really? I'm smart—don't trick me!"
---
Meanwhile, Shitenhouji's team watched Mori warm up, then turned their attention to Seigaku's bench—
Their blood ran cold.
One person's movement made Hirakoba and Hara's hair stand on end. The entire team paled.
"We're done."
His appearance shattered all of Shitenhouji's strategies.
Yoru strode onto the court, his blue-and-white jacket draped over his shoulders—no warm-up necessary.
"WOOO! My husband's playing already?!"
"Yoru! Look over here!"
The moment he stepped forward, screams erupted from the female spectators.
"So it's him."
Unlike his despairing teammates, Mori—still stretching—grinned wildly.
FLOKITOTO.
Facing Kirihara would've been for the team's sake. But this? A match against the prodigy praised by Tennis Weekly? Perfect.
"Didn't expect to play you. Heard you're strong," Mori said, offering a hand at the net.
"Yep. Ridiculously strong."
"…Eh?"
No humility at all?!
Mori blinked as Yoru turned toward the baseline, the breeze fluttering his jacket.
"Use everything you've got to entertain me~"
Yoru reached the baseline.
Mori's 7-star power level surprised him. Yesterday, he'd seen Moonlit Tsukimitsu (Ice Emperor's ace) barely hit 7 stars.
Mori's definitely a genius.
But in raw skill? Moonlit might still edge him out. Mental天赋 (tensai) was a nightmare to counter, and Moonlit was entering a growth spurt.
"Singles 3 match begins! Yoru to serve!"
The referee's whistle blew.
SWISH—
The moment the sound faded, Yoru tossed the ball high.
A slight backward-left arc. Back arched. At the peak of his jump, his racket whipped up-right—
PING!
A crisp, melodic strike echoed across the court.
The ball tore through the air with violent spin, landing dead-center. But unlike a standard twist serve, its trajectory was straight, its speed brutal.
"You can serve like THAT?!"
Mori grinned, darting forward—
THWACK!
The ball shot upward on the bounce, smashing into his forehead.
"OWWW—!"
A red welt swelled instantly. The ball rolled out of bounds.
"Hurtsss~" Rubbing his forehead, Mori whined, "That was a twist serve? Didn't look like one! And it rebounded instantly!"
QP's eyebrows rose. "Interesting."
To instantly recognize the Gyro Spin Serve's variation? This kid wasn't weak.
But it didn't matter.
The moment Yoru stepped on the court, this match was Seigaku's.
BANG!
Four more twist serves followed—each faster, each sharper.
"Game, Yoru! 1-0!"
Kirihara, chewing his shirt collar, glared at Mori. "Serves you right for stealing Singles 3! Hope you never touch the ball!"
(The genius Kirihara still hadn't realized Yoru's trickery.)
"So strong…"
Second game—Mori's serve.
He bounced the ball, excitement burning brighter. No one made twist serves look that effortless.
SWOOSH!
Toss. Knee bend. Racket cracked down—
A golden streak bulleted across the court.
Yet before it could bounce twice—
WHOOSH.
A shadow intercepted.
The ball screamed back, landing in an unreachable corner.
Mori's body froze mid-step. Point lost.
"Tch… can't even react?" He exhaled sharply, then smirked. "Fine. I'll just sleep then."
Ignoring the crowd's shock, his expression went slack.
When his eyes reopened—they were unfocused. Yet his aura twisted unnaturally.
"It's here… Mori's Serious Mode!"
While spectators gasped, Shitenhouji's bench erupted.
Even QP's eyes widened. "This feeling…"