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🕑 Added 2025-08-18 17:21:15 +0000 UTCChapter 171: Farewell Ceremony; Considerations for U17
(For those still confused about the lineup system, this is my final explanation—there’s no suppression or weakening, only increased strength ╮(╯▽╰)╭.)
(Chapter 168 mentioned Oni Juujirou’s base five stats at Level 10, which doubled to Level 12 after feedback.)
(Chapter 169 detailed the breakdown: Oni, as the main combatant, provided a full doubling effect, raising his base stats to 12.7.
QP, as the secondary support, contributed 10% (a +1 boost).
Ryoma, as the third support, contributed 5% (a +0.3 boost).
Combined, this resulted in Level 14 base stats, with all individual stats reaching Level 14.)
(To those saying Ryoma no longer provides feedback after binding with QP—when QP was bound, Yoru’s base stats were already at Level 10. What could Ryoma’s stats possibly contribute at that point?
Yoru’s own stats had long surpassed the range of Ryoma’s doubling effect—there was a 4-level gap.)
(I also wrote before that the doubling feedback is based on the highest stat difference among bound characters. By then, Ryoma’s base stats couldn’t provide any further feedback.)
Time flies, swift as a white steed galloping past a crack.
Half a month after their championship victory, QP returned to Germany, planning to come back at the start of the next school year.
The Seigaku regulars threw themselves into intense exam preparation, and tennis club training came to an abrupt halt.
Japan’s education system differs from China’s.
Entrance exams are held between February and March of the following year.
While public and private schools may vary slightly, the general structure remains similar.
After exams, students enjoy a month-long break until the new school year begins in early April.
Thus, club activities were suspended after the Nationals.
Once exams ended, there would be 3-4 days for clubs to hold leadership handover ceremonies and confirm new regulars.
However, since Yoru was already the captain—and a first-year—there was no need for a leadership transition.
As for regular selections, Yoru chose to postpone the decision.
With players like Tezuka soon enrolling, there was no point "digging for steel in a trash bin."
Early March, Graduation Season—
Seigaku Tennis Club.
"Man, time really flies. Before we know it, we’re graduating."
"Yeah~ Feels like winning Nationals was just yesterday."
"Graduating as national champs? We’ll definitely be popular with the girls in the high school tennis club!"
"Hahaha, my thoughts exactly."
That morning, Kawasaki, Kaedou, and others chatted in the clubroom.
By tradition, today should’ve been the day for handing over the captaincy and regular positions. But due to Yoru’s unique circumstances, it became a farewell ceremony for the graduating members.
No grand speeches—just simple, heartfelt goodbyes.
Yoru smiled as he watched them.
Suddenly remembering something, he silently asked the system: "Once they graduate, will they lose the rune buffs?"
[System: Yes, but the effects won’t vanish immediately. They’ll enter a "fade-out" period lasting one year, during which the runes’ influence gradually integrates into their growth, making the transition natural.]
[If they stop training during this time, the effects will fade completely.]
[You may also manually remove someone from the fade-out list, instantly nullifying the runes’ effects. Would you like to proceed?]
"No."
Yoru shook his head.
He hadn’t expected the system to be so considerate.
The fade-out period would soften the adjustment, making it easier to accept.
Opening the rune interface, he saw many members—including Kirihara, Kawasaki, Kaedou, and Konishi—were now in the fade-out phase.
Worth noting:
After winning Nationals, they acquired the [Control Rune].
[Control Rune]:
All members gain +10% ball control.
Regular members gain +10% slicing ability (reducing shot power).
Yoru gains +15%.
"Slicing ability"—think of how Phoenix countered Yoru’s "Glow Shot" by using a slice return to dissipate its force.
But the real game-changer was the +10% control boost.
In the hands of technical players like Tezuka or Fuji, this would be a massive buff.
"Captain!"
Kirihara and the others approached.
Yoru nodded. "How were exams? No major issues, I hope?"
Seigaku had its own high school division.
As long as their grades weren’t abysmal, most would advance smoothly.
Kawasaki and the others weren’t worrisome… but Kirihara’s brain?
Maybe those beatings at Houkou had left lasting damage.
"Relax, Captain. I sat next to him during the test," Kawasaki said with a smirk.
…So cheating it is.
Kirihara grinned. "Hey, Captain… have you heard of U17? I got an invitation to their training camp."
U17?
Yoru paused.
That was fast.
Then again, Kirihara had shone at Nationals. Now that he was entering high school, an invitation made sense.
Yoru had checked the schedule:
October: Group stage qualifiers.
December: French Open World Cup main event.
"Funny you mention that—I got one too," Kawasaki chimed in.
Yoru gave him a skeptical look. "You did?"
"Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?" Kawasaki rolled his eyes. "But I’ve already decided—no more training or matches. I’m going home to help with the family business. I know my limits. Better to focus on studies than waste time on tennis."
Kaedou and Konishi echoed similar plans.
Konishi sighed. "My family’s sending me abroad. Doubt I’ll have time for tennis anymore."
Kaedou looked downcast. "I’m not leaving the country, but I’ve got responsibilities at home. Without Konishi, there’s no point playing anyway."
This duo had been the brightest doubles pair at Nationals.
Yet now, they were parting ways.
Such was life—no feast lasted forever.
Still, wherever they went, their tenacity would ensure they excelled.
(Note: Kaedou Juu is Kaoru Kaidou’s cousin in canon. His family situation is far tougher than Kaidou’s, hence his need to prioritize work and studies. Yoru, aware of this, already has plans to help.)
"Captain!" Kirihara interjected. "Which country’s U17 are you joining? Take me with you!"
Yoru blinked. Since when was Kirihara this perceptive?
After a moment, he replied, "Not sure yet. Train hard with Japan’s U17 for now. I’ll let you know once I’ve decided."
QP had asked the same question before leaving.
If Yoru chose Germany, their U17 would handle all arrangements.
But Yoru hadn’t committed.
Last month, he’d visited China—and what he saw there crushed any thought of starting his journey there.
(The sports environment was… less than ideal.)
That left Germany and the U.S. as options.
But then, Johanna Langmann paid him a visit, bringing an offer from Switzerland.
Their terms were exceptional:
Generous financial support.
Authority to bring additional players directly into their team.
While Germany and the U.S. were strong choices, neither offered him the same freedom to bring teammates.
So now, Switzerland had entered the equation.
"Where should I go…?"
Chapter 172: The Arrival of Little Yukimura and Little Sanada
The farewell ceremony had come to an end.
On the way home, Yamato was the only one left by Yoru's side.
After QP returned to his home country, Kawasaki and the others had moved up to the high school division.
To prevent senior students from bullying the juniors, the entrances to the middle school and high school buildings were placed in opposite directions, far apart from each other.
As they walked, Yamato asked, "Captain, Tōzuka and the others are about to enroll, right? I wonder if our tennis club will still have such a strong lineup next semester. At least QP is coming back."
Yoru rolled his eyes. "How could you say something so ridiculous?"
Was Seigaku’s lineup really that strong?
Without the boost from his runes, all four of their doubles players—including Yamato himself—were practically amateurs.
But this year’s batch? This was the true golden generation.
Tōzuka Kunimitsu and Fuji Syusuke—two super prodigies.
Inui Sadaharu—a top-tier strategist with solid skills of his own.
Ōishi Syuichirō and Kikumaru Eiji—a doubles pair with national-level potential.
And let’s not forget the fiery Kawamura Takashi.
This lineup was leagues above Kawasaki and the others—not even comparable in terms of raw talent.
In the original story, aside from Rikkai Dai, Seigaku had the most gifted players in nearly every position.
Yet despite holding such an incredible hand, Ryūzaki Sumire had split them up haphazardly, turning Seigaku into a team that couldn’t even make it past the Kantō Tournament.
The following year, Tōzuka and the others had clawed their way into the Nationals through sheer individual skill—despite the chaotic lineup decisions—but were eliminated in the first round.
Thankfully, Ryūzaki had already left Seigaku before the new year.
Before her departure, she told Yoru that she had found a new coach from overseas—a former professional player and a stunning beauty who had just retired.
The description sounded familiar, but Yoru couldn’t quite place it.
Still, having a coach was a good thing.
Once Tōzuka and the others enrolled, QP could help train Inui and the rest, but he had his own regimen to focus on.
And as for players like Tōzuka and Fuji? Only Yoru could properly guide them.
Yamato could sort of teach doubles, but he was far from an expert.
A coach who could coordinate the club’s operations and tailor training plans for each member would make everything run smoother—especially if it meant Yoru could slack off a bit and focus on researching that mysterious gate.
"Captain, I’ll head home first!"
Yamato lived in a different direction, so they parted ways at the train station.
Truthfully, walking home from Seigaku took less than half an hour, but the train was more convenient.
Tap, tap, tap—
"Yoru-senpai!"
The sound of hurried footsteps approached, followed by a voice calling his name.
Yoru turned, surprised to see none other than Yukimura Seiichi and Sanada Genichirō from Rikkai Dai running toward him.
"We finally caught up!"
The two boys stopped in front of him, hands on their knees as they caught their breath.
Yoru blinked. "Yukimura, you’re out of the hospital?"
"Yes, I recovered before the new year," Yukimura replied, standing straight.
Come to think of it, Yukimura had undergone surgery during the Nationals. A few months of recovery made sense—especially in the Prince of Tennis universe, where physical resilience bordered on superhuman.
In the original story, even at his weakest, Yukimura bounced back almost immediately after surgery.
Yoru vaguely remembered that Yukimura had his operation on the day of the Kantō Finals, then returned in time for the Nationals shortly after. His recovery speed was like a toned-down Wolverine.
Now, months later, a full recovery was only natural.
"Yoru-senpai, hello!" Sanada bowed respectfully.
Yukimura, still slightly breathless, explained, "We left early today, but we still arrived too late—by the time we got to Seigaku, everyone had already disbanded."
"Today was the farewell ceremony, so club activities ended early," Yoru said with a nod. "What brings you here?"
"Um…" Yukimura hesitated, a faint blush on his cheeks before he finally spoke. "Yoru-senpai, could you… train us?"
Both boys looked at him with hopeful eyes.
"Sure."
Yoru agreed without hesitation.
After all, these two were meant to be Ryōma’s future "experience boosters."
Thanks to Yoru’s influence, Ryōma was far stronger than in the original story. By the time the main plot kicked off, there’d be fewer and fewer rivals who could challenge him. If he didn’t nurture Yukimura and Sanada now, how would Ryōma evolve later?
Right now, Yoru could coast on the feedback from Oni Jūzaburō and QP, but in the long run, he’d need Ryōma—especially when it came to that mysterious gate.
There was a good chance only Ryōma could help him open it.
If by the time Yoru graduated, there were no strong rivals left in middle school to push Ryōma, what then? How would he ever stand a chance against Nanjirō Echizen?
Would he just charge in screaming about bonds and get wrecked?
Defeating Nanjirō was his dream now.
"Follow me."
With Seigaku closed, Yoru led the two to the tennis courts under the train bridge.
Seeing the perfectly intact courts, he raised an eyebrow in surprise.
Who the hell keeps fixing these courts? It was like a respawn point—no matter how much destruction they caused, the place always magically restored itself.
"Let’s play a match first."
Yoru pulled out his racket and gestured for them to warm up.
At those words, Yukimura and Sanada gulped. The final two shots from the Nationals were still fresh in their minds—especially the moment Byōdōin Hōō was sent flying.
That scene had left a deep impression on them, even though Yukimura had been hospitalized at the time.
Still, they obediently began their warm-up.
Yoru took the chance to check their stats.
[Name]: Sanada Genichirō
[Age]: 12
[Techniques]:
Base Stats (Lv. 6)
Tennis Fundamentals (Lv. 6)
Fuurin Kazan (Lv. 6)
Muga no Kyōchi (Lv. 3)
[Talent]: Sengoku Creed
[Power Level]: 6 Stars
[Name]: Yukimura Seiichi
[Age]: 11
[Techniques]:
Base Stats (Lv. 6)
Tennis Fundamentals (Lv. 6)
Yips (Lv. 6)
Weakness Insight (Lv. 6)
Muga no Kyōchi (Lv. 1)
[Talent]: Flawless
[Power Level]: 6 Stars
Yoru suddenly noticed Sanada was already 12.
Technically, they were the same age.
The first time he’d checked Sanada’s stats—back after the regional preliminaries—he might not have had his birthday yet, so it showed 11.
"Come to think of it, my birthday’s coming up soon, right?"
From what he remembered, his birthday was in March—probably within the next few days.
He wasn’t sure about the others, but he had a rough idea of Tōzuka’s age group.
Sanada (May) > Tōzuka (October) > Yukimura (late March).
Yukimura was almost a full year younger than the other two. In the original Nationals, he was only 14.
But what caught Yoru’s attention was that Sanada had already fully developed Fuurin Kazan, with all techniques at Lv. 6.
"Sanada, you serve first."
Even though the age gap was minimal, Yoru still liked calling him "Little Sanada."
After all, he had lived two lives—and the height difference didn’t hurt either.
Switzerland – Pro Tennis Club
Johanna Langmann turned to her new manager.
"Today is Yoru’s birthday. You made sure the gift was delivered on time, right?"
"Relax, Langmann. We already got the confirmation—it’s been signed for at the Echizen residence."
Chapter 173: Training Sanada and Yukimura
"Swift as the wind!"
Sanada's arm blurred as he struck the ball.
The shot streaked across the court, landing sharply in the outer corner.
Yoru effortlessly returned it—using "Swift as the Wind" as well.
Though holding back, his shot was still too fast for Sanada to handle.
Thud!
The ball clipped the baseline and flew out of bounds.
"You've improved a lot. Raise your racket arm higher—it’ll give you better leverage and more speed."
With Swift as the Wind mastered at Lv. 12, Yoru could instantly spot the flaws in Sanada’s Lv. 6 technique.
The move borrowed from kendo mechanics, but it still needed to blend with fundamental serving form. A slight adjustment in posture could make a huge difference.
"Yes!"
Sanada barked his acknowledgment and served again.
A quick learner, he adjusted his stance as instructed—and immediately, his shot gained speed.
Thud!
Yoru returned it casually, no special techniques, minimal power.
Sanada sprinted to intercept, but—
"Your footwork’s too wide. You can’t stabilize fast enough, so your returns suffer."
"Shorten your steps, increase your frequency."
With Lv. 14 fundamentals, Yoru could dissect Sanada’s weaknesses effortlessly.
Tennis demanded precise footwork.
In the original story, Ryōma had beaten Inui using "Single-Foot Split Step"—not just to disrupt data tennis, but also to minimize momentum and enable quicker counters.
For a speed-focused player like Sanada, movement and timing were critical.
"Yes!"
Sanada prepared to strike—
But the ball’s spin was fierce. Instinctively, he switched to "Slow as the Forest"—a heavy slice that neutralized spin.
Yoru copied it instantly.
**[You have copied "Slow as the Forest (Lv. 6)" — Feedback multiplier active! Obtained "Slow as the Forest (Lv. 8)"]**
[Due to your base stats, "Slow as the Forest" has been elevated to Lv. 12!]
The knowledge flooded his mind, mastered in an instant.
"Your backswing’s too big. You’re overcommitting. Fix those two things."
Then—he lobbed high, baiting Sanada into "Fierce as Fire."
Finally, he ramped up the pressure, forcing Sanada into "Immovable as the Mountain"—pure defense.
Within minutes, Yoru had copied the remaining "Fire" and "Mountain," identified their flaws, and refined Sanada’s execution.
Truthfully, Sanada was already skilled—just needed minor tweaks.
At 12, his body was entering its growth spurt. His Lv. 6 stats would soon shatter.
"Incredible..."
Yukimura watched in awe.
Yoru had pinpointed Sanada’s weaknesses the moment he used a technique.
Six games. Twenty-four points.
Sanada hadn’t scored once—but the match had sharpened him drastically. His movements flowed smoother, transitions tighter.
"Game, 6-0!"
Yoru rested his racket on his shoulder.
Across the net, Sanada knelt, drenched in sweat, panting—but his eyes burned with excitement.
He could feel his progress. Coming to Yoru had been the right call.
"Yukimura, you’re up."
"Yes!"
Already warmed up, Yukimura stepped onto the court eagerly.
Thud!
The match began.
They rallied for a long time—yet Yoru felt nothing unusual. Strangely, no prompt to copy "Yips" appeared.
As he returned shots, Yoru recalled the lore behind Yukimura’s ability.
At its core, "Yips" (五感剥奪) wasn’t a technique.
Originally, it was implied to be a psychological effect—using speed, spin, and relentless precision to induce "yips" (a real-life sports phenomenon where athletes suddenly lose control).
Later, it was clarified:
Yukimura’s "perfect tennis" forced opponents into a mental trap.
Every shot was returned flawlessly, no matter how impossible. Over time, the opponent’s mind became haunted by the certainty of defeat—until their body literally shut down, mimicking sensory deprivation.
It wasn’t an active skill.
It was the result of Yukimura’s oppressive playstyle.
Even in losing situations (like against Tōzuka at the World Stage), he could trigger it—because the memory of his returns had already been seared into his opponent’s mind.
Only unshakable mental fortitude could resist.
(Which was why Tōzuka eventually broke free after his coach’s pep talk.)
But Yoru?
He felt nothing.
Their gap in stats was too vast. Yukimura’s pressure couldn’t reach him.
Thud!
A slight increase in power—
The ball bounced past Yukimura, sealing another 6-0.
Drenched in sweat, Yukimura panted—but listened intently as Yoru spoke.
"Your playstyle’s already polished. Just keep grinding your fundamentals."
"If you want to induce Yips faster, amplify the mental strain. Force low returns—make opponents crouch constantly. Increase their physical and mental fatigue."
Yukimura’s eyes lit up.
He hadn’t considered that approach.
In many ways, Yukimura was a mini-QP—just with a psychological edge.
"By the way," Yoru added, "you’re starting middle school this year, right? Any plans on where to go?"
Chapter 174: The Importance of "Experience Boosters" & A Birthday
"This…"
Both Yukimura and Sanada were sharp enough to grasp the implication behind Yoru’s words.
After a brief hesitation, Yukimura awkwardly replied, "We’ve decided to enroll at Rikkai Dai…"
"I see. That’s fine."
Yoru wasn’t disappointed—he’d expected this answer.
The distance between Kanagawa and Seigaku was too great, and given their age, transferring simply wasn’t practical.
While their addition would’ve strengthened Seigaku, it would’ve also ruined the fun of future Nationals.
Having Yukimura and the others at Rikkai meant there’d still be a good show to watch.
If they all joined Seigaku? Where’s the drama in that?
Besides, there was Ryoma to consider.
These two were essential "experience boosters" for the protagonist.
Thanks to Ryoma’s "never-lose-in-official-matches" protagonist halo, facing off against Yukimura and Sanada in official matches would trigger his next major power-up.
But if they were all on the same team, there’d be no official matches between them.
At the train station, Yukimura hesitated before asking:
"Senpai… I heard you possess a sensory manipulation ability, like Johanna Langmann?"
"Yeah."
"So during Nationals… when Tooyama Kippei acted like that, was it sensory deprivation?"
Yoru shook his head. "Not entirely. I was testing something new—alternating reality and illusion. A different application of sensory control."
"Most of what he saw and heard was real. But at critical moments, I’d feed him false sensory input."
"Mixing truth and lies makes it harder to detect or guard against."
"That’s why, on TV, you saw him unleash powerful shots—only to send them flying out of bounds."
"It’s mostly an innate talent, though."
He didn’t bother hiding it.
Before Nationals, when his progress had stalled, he’d focused on refining his Ten’i Muhou (Divine Sense) applications.
His conclusion?
Alternating reality and illusion was the most insidious and devastating approach.
Back then, the technique hadn’t been fully polished—hence why Tooyama could sense something was off.
But now?
Tooyama wouldn’t even realize he’d lost until the match was over.
"Amazing…" Yukimura couldn’t help but envy him.
His own style leaned toward Ten’i Muhou as well.
But without Yoru’s mental天赋 (innate talent), he could only rely on flawless play and gap exploitation to induce Yips.
According to tennis records, only two people possessed sensory manipulation:
Johanna Langmann.
Yoru.
This ability wasn’t just another mental quirk—it was in a league of its own.
"It’s getting late. You two should head back."
As the train approached, Yoru smiled.
"If you’re at Rikkai, I hope we’ll meet at Kantō or Nationals."
"Yes, Senpai!"
The two bowed deeply.
Today’s visit had given them plenty to digest.
Once their bodies matured, their skills would leap forward.
After seeing them off, Yoru checked the distance home and decided to walk.
Waiting for the next train would take just as long…
Meanwhile—Ryōgoku Temple (Yoru’s Home)
Pushing open the gate, Yoru frowned at the pitch-black interior.
"Did they go out to eat without me? …Should’ve grabbed something on the way back."
Then it hit him.
His foot froze mid-step.
Nanjirō and Rinko would never leave him out. And Nanako always informed him beforehand.
"A prank, huh?"
Eyes narrowing, he closed the door and muttered:
"Old man, I don’t know how you talked Rinko-mom and Nanako into this… but you’re underestimating me."
With a flicker, he vanished—slipping silently toward the kitchen window, a smirk playing on his lips.
Inside the Darkened Hall
A stunning face peeked out from behind a pillar, watching the shut door.
"Uncle… why didn’t he come in? Did you mess up?"
From behind the TV, a voice grumbled: "Impossible! Absolutely impo—"
"MILLENNIUM KILL!"
"GYAAAAAAAA—!!!"
Before he could finish, a sharp whoosh cut through the air—followed by Nanjirō launching from his hiding spot, landing butt-up, faint smoke rising from his rear.
"U-Uncle?!"
"Old man, you alive?"
Rinko and Nanako rushed out as Yoru emerged, calmly wiping his fingers with a tissue.
"Relax. I’ve practiced this move—clears blockages without permanent damage~"
Turning to the women, he raised an eyebrow.
"Since when do you two humor his nonsense?"
"We wanted to surprise you!"
Rinko proudly presented a tennis-racket-shaped cake, kicking Nanjirō aside (as per family hierarchy).
Nanako began singing: "Happy~ Birthday to You~"
"My birthday?"
Yoru blinked, pulling up his system screen.
Sure enough—he’d just turned 13.
Five more years till I can legally hit up Kabukichō!
Under the moonlight, laughter filled the Ryōgoku residence.
Ryōga and Ryōma sent birthday wishes, while gifts piled up:
A tennis uniform (clearly from Nanjirō/Rinko).
A tennis-themed figurine (Nanako’s taste).
Cat-paw gloves (Ryōma’s signature weirdness).
A tangerine hat (Ryōga’s "I-tried" energy).
But one package stood out—a sleek, carbon-fiber racket from Switzerland.
No prizes for guessing the sender.
"Tch."
Yoru wanted to refuse…
But the racket’s design—its weight, balance, everything—was perfect.
(And yes, he could afford his own gear. But this was personalized.)
"…Guess I’ll use it."
He stuffed it into his bag with practiced nonchalance.
With the new term approaching, he looked forward to Tezuka and the others joining Seigaku.
"Now… we wait for school to start."
Chapter 175: The Future of Seigaku
Late March, a season of blooming flowers and singing warblers, when spring breathes life into the world.
Under the warm sun and a gentle breeze, Seigaku welcomed its annual new school year.
Thanks to their victory in last year’s National Championships, Seigaku’s reputation had soared, attracting a flood of transfer students—a staggering 20% of the incoming class! This unprecedented surge set a new record in the school’s history.
The remaining 80% were students who had advanced seamlessly from Seigaku Elementary.
Worth mentioning—QP had returned a week before school started.
Growth spurts had boosted his base stats to Level 10 across the board, which in turn improved Yoru’s own abilities—though neither had yet reached Level 15 in their base stats.
The two arrived at the school gates the moment they opened, eager to step inside.
"You came this early just to see the new students... or rather, the new female students?"
QP rolled his eyes as Yoru stared intently at every girl in casual clothes.
Since coming to Japan, QP had become more emotionally expressive—his once-stoic demeanor now colored by subtle reactions. Surprisingly, far from weakening his playstyle, this emotional depth had only strengthened his foundation.
As Leitner once said: "True perfection includes emotion."
Yoru stood up, nudging QP to follow.
"Watching from here isn’t fun. Let’s walk around—I bet we’ll charm all the girls~"
QP couldn’t resist asking: "If you like girls so much, why not get a girlfriend? Plenty write you love letters."
"Appreciating beauty and dating are two different things. Besides, I’m not interested in a relationship right now."
"So you’re just being a tease?"
"Rude! I’m seeking a soul connection!"
"Or maybe you’re just too scared to ask someone out?"
"QP, you’ve changed. You’re so mean now—you’re not my loyal pup anymore~"
Yoru feigned heartbreak as they bantered, strolling through campus.
Around them, freshmen wandered nervously, their eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and unease for their new middle school life.
"Yoru!"
"That’s Seigaku’s tennis captain, Yoru!"
"And that’s QP next to him—the European prodigy!"
"It’s really them! They’ve gotten taller, but it’s definitely them!"
"So handsome—even more than on TV!"
After a growth spurt, Yoru now stood nearly 180 cm, matching QP’s height.
Soon, a crowd of blushing girls surrounded them.
Heart racing but smiling, Yoru greeted them: "Welcome to Seigaku."
"Ahhh! Yoru-senpai talked to us!"
"So cool! I wanna water the ground again~"
"Please, have some dignity!"
The girls squealed as Yoru waved and walked away with QP.
Once out of earshot, QP deadpanned: "No need to hold back now. They’re gone."
"Pfft—HAHAHA!" Yoru burst out laughing. "That feeling of being adored? Absolutely amazing!"
QP sighed, ignoring his overexcited friend.
"Yoru-senpai!"
A young, familiar voice called out. They turned to see Tezuka, his once-golden hair now a soft tea-brown, jogging toward them.
Yoru immediately ruffled his hair. "So soft~"
QP nodded. "Tezuka, finished registration?"
"Yes, Class 1-1... Senpai, I’m not a kid anymore."
"Denied. Your hair’s too soft~"
Tezuka struggled futilely as Yoru kept petting him.
Nearby, a boy with jet-black hair (stubborn yet hardworking by appearance) watched them intently.
"So that’s Seigaku’s captain, Yoru-senpai... His popularity is insane."
Thud!
Someone bumped into him from behind.
"S-Sorry! I didn’t see you!"
"Nah, my bad. I wasn’t looking!"
The black-haired boy turned to see a redhead with a band-aid on his cheek, grinning playfully.
Just then, a bespectacled boy walked past, muttering into a notebook:
"Yoru, Seigaku’s tennis captain. Chinese descent. Led Seigaku to Nationals victory last year. Currently hailed as the best middle school player in Japan—undefeated in official matches."
"QP, full name unknown. German prodigy who joined mid-season. Considered one of Seigaku’s twin pillars. Also undefeated."
The two boys gaped. "That strong?!"
Elsewhere, a handsome, flaxen-haired boy walked with an elegant woman (likely his sister).
"I’ll leave you here. Make friends, okay? I’ll pick you up after school. Which class?"
"1-6, sis."
"1-6? No way, me too!" The redhead spun around, beaming.
The flaxen-haired boy smiled warmly. "Let’s go together then. Nice to meet you."
"Awesome! Can’t believe we’re classmates!"
"I’M GONNA BE LATE!"
A thick-browed, earnest-looking boy sprinted past Yoru’s group.
Yoru blinked, struck by his familiarity.
His gaze then drifted to the fateful encounters unfolding under the cherry blossoms—Tezuka, the black-haired boy, the redhead, the bespectacled analyst, and the flaxen-haired newcomer.
A knowing smile crossed his lips.
"A destined meeting..."
Like stars aligning in the night sky, like dust particles colliding in the vastness of space—this was fate’s design.
He hadn’t expected to witness Seigaku’s future so soon.
Each of these boys had solid potential, though their current skills were lacking. Tezuka already stood leagues ahead.
But that was fine.
If even Kawasaki (that scrub) could reach 6-star level under his training, these prodigies would soar even higher.
"What are you looking at?" QP asked.
Yoru grinned. "Seigaku’s future."
"Future?"
QP followed his gaze to the boys beneath the sakura tree, their youth radiating promise.
"Those kids?"
He knew Yoru could see talent others couldn’t.
"For you to call them ‘the future’..." QP murmured, intrigued.
