“Wooooah!”
“That was incredible!”
“As expected of Shibukawa!
His opponent couldn’t even fight back!”
The moment the referee finished speaking, the spectators around the court erupted into excited cheers.
“Not bad.”
Muromachi gave Shibukawa, who was still on the court, a long look before turning and leaving.
He knew perfectly well that Shibukawa hadn’t shown his full strength.
But by the same token, Muromachi hadn’t gone all out in his own match either.
‘Just as I thought.’
‘Only by actually playing you can I force you to show me your limits.’
Muromachi tightened his grip on his racket, excitement gleaming in his eyes.
He was looking forward to their upcoming match more and more.
…
Four in the afternoon.
Everyone participating in the regular-team selection had completed their first match, and the competition soon moved into the second round.
Over in Group D, Shibukawa and Muromachi stepped onto the court almost simultaneously under the expectant gazes of the crowd.
“Next up, the Group D match between Shibukawa Shin and Muromachi Tōji.”
The referee seated in the high chair announced the match in a clear voice.
Then, the two approached the net.
Muromachi, normally brimming with arrogance, was unusually serious.
Looking at his opponent, he gave a faint smile.
“Senpai, you really have gotten stronger.
But sorry—the one winning this match is going to be me!”
Despite already making an effort to rein in his personality, his declaration still sounded ridiculously chuuni.
Shibukawa could understand, though.
A month ago, Muromachi probably wouldn’t even have considered him worth a second glance.
And all of that had changed because he’d gotten stronger.
So when it came down to it, tennis was still about letting your strength do the talking.
Only the strong could earn an opponent’s respect.
And for Shibukawa, the match before him was nothing more than the starting point of his tennis career.
“Mm.”
With that thought passing through his mind, he smiled and nodded.
“I’m looking forward to playing you, Muromachi.
As Yamabuki’s resident genius, I hope you won’t disappoint me.”
Their exchange was hardly polite, but it hadn’t reached the point of trading insults either.
Muromachi, already itching to get started, stood his racket upright and spun it.
The two then chose opposite sides and waited to see which way the lettering would face when the racket fell.
“Down.
I win.”
Muromachi, who had called the underside beforehand, smiled.
“Looks like Lady Luck is on my side today.
In that case, I’ll take the serve.
You don’t mind, do you, Senpai?”
“Of course not.”
Shibukawa’s expression remained unchanged.
Realizing there was no chance of provoking his opponent with words, Muromachi picked up his racket, turned around, and headed toward the baseline.
He believed strength was everything.
Shibukawa felt the same way.
Before long, both players had retreated near their respective baselines.
After confirming they were ready, the referee in the high chair nodded.
“One-set match.
Muromachi to serve.
Play!”
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
As soon as the announcement ended, Muromachi pulled a tennis ball from his pocket and lightly bounced it a few times before catching it.
He raised his head, and a sharp glint flashed in his eyes behind his white-framed sunglasses as he looked at his opponent.
“I’m not going to hold back!”
Bang!
Without warning, he tossed the ball up and hammered his serve across the court.
Tap!
Tap!
The next instant, Muromachi sprinted toward the net.
“Serve-and-volley?”
“Muromachi’s going on the offensive right from the start?”
“Isn’t that a little too bold?”
“That’s what makes him Yamabuki’s genius!
If you’re going to play, attack!
Fast-paced tennis is the way to go!”
The spectators were momentarily stunned before erupting in excitement.
Offense was undoubtedly the best way to fire up the spectators.
Muromachi’s aggressive opening, in particular, instantly set the atmosphere around the court ablaze.
‘What will he do?’
At the same time, outside the court, Banda, Uesugi, and the others all turned their attention to Shibukawa.
To everyone’s surprise, however, he didn’t immediately make a move.
Instead, he stood rooted to the spot as though he’d frozen.
‘Did that scare him?’
That was many people’s first thought.
“No.”
Higashikata, one of the regulars, suddenly widened his eyes.
“He moved!”
Tap!
Tap!
Shibukawa suddenly sprinted toward where the ball was going to land.
‘You’re only moving now?
Too late!’
Muromachi was keeping an eye on his opponent even as he charged toward the net.
When he saw that Shibukawa had clearly reacted half a beat too late, he completely relaxed.
‘That makes sense.’
‘He’s never played against anyone strong before.
Those guys he faced earlier were nothing but mediocre players.’
In Muromachi’s eyes, Shibukawa’s delayed movement greatly reduced the threat of whatever return he could make.
That left Muromachi even more composed, to the point that he was already considering how to launch a decisive attack and end the point in a single shot.
Whoosh!
However—
Bang!
The instant the ball bounced off the court, he drove it back with a lightning-fast swing.
Thump!
From the spectators’ perspective, they hadn’t even had time to process what had happened before a pale yellow streak flashed past Muromachi and struck the court behind him.
Muromachi’s pupils abruptly contracted.
His head turned almost instinctively, and the moment he saw the tennis ball rolling beyond the baseline, his entire body stiffened.
“0-15!”
The referee called the score.
The court, which had fallen silent from the shock, immediately erupted into a clamor of confused voices.
“What happened?”
“Wh-What just happened?”
“Yeah!
What the hell did Shibukawa do?
How did he suddenly win the point?!”
No one understood.
Just a moment earlier, Muromachi’s serve-and-volley had given him the advantage.
Once he secured the favorable position at the net, he should have been able to easily dictate how the point played out.
And yet—
It was Shibukawa, who had reacted half a beat late, who had unexpectedly taken the point.
“This kid…
really has something.”
Among the crowd, Uesugi looked at Shibukawa with newfound surprise.
“He certainly does.”
Just then, Sengoku, the overwhelming favorite to advance from Group A, appeared nearby and said with a smile, “First, he deliberately slowed himself down to make Muromachi lower his guard.
Then, once Muromachi crossed the halfway point and thought he had the point in the bag, Shibukawa suddenly struck.”
“N-No, wait…”
Honda Ryuichi, who was also in Group A but had been thoroughly crushed by Sengoku, stared at him in disbelief.
“That’s all there was to it?”
“Of course not.”
Uesugi shook his head.
“The tactic may look simple, but you need a good enough understanding of your opponent’s mindset to pull it off.
And you also have to be bold and decisive yourself.”
“More importantly…”
Uesugi’s voice grew serious.
“Your Swing has to be fast enough.
Otherwise, before you can even get your racket moving, the ball will already be past you.
You wouldn’t even touch it.”
‘His Swing?’
Unlike the astonished spectators, vice-captain Minami gave Shibukawa a long, thoughtful look.
If he remembered correctly, Shibukawa’s Swing practice had begun to change about a month ago.
At first, Minami hadn’t paid much attention to it.
It wasn’t until Banda came to ask him about Shibukawa that he realized his classmate seemed to have become different from before.
But Minami couldn’t put his finger on exactly what had changed.
Only now, after seeing Shibukawa unleash that crisp, clean Swing—starting late yet striking first—did Minami finally see clearly just how sharp an edge lay hidden beneath his unassuming exterior.
Banda alone watched Shibukawa with nothing but gratification and admiration in his eyes.
At that moment, the image of Shibukawa practicing his Swing day after day for the past month, never stopping regardless of the weather, gradually overlapped with the boy standing on the court before him.
Before anyone had realized it, he had already grown this much!