My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, As I Expected

Her major was specialized, so almost no one knew her true nature. Moreover, she possessed such beauty, coupled with a mysterious aura, that she came across as unapproachable. Talking to her felt less like a terror and more like a transgression.

Thus, Yuihama, who easily broke through this taboo, truly had exceptional courage, or perhaps it was simply because she was incredibly dense.

But her genuine, straightforward personality and honest kindness touched Yukino. No one but Yuihama could have brought Yukino here. For the strong-willed Yuihama, Yukino was fighting with all her might. If I were to ask her for help, she'd probably refuse.

Not long after, the previous deficit was erased.

Yukino commanded the court like a fairy, her footwork like a dance, the best performance on this stage. Someone like me, a mere extra, could only occasionally return the ball feebly. Every time I swung my racket, the audience's eyes seemed to say, "Get out of the way," which was quite hurtful.

It was Yukino's serve again, and the audience's expectations were finally met.

She gripped the tennis ball and tossed it high into the sky. The ball seemed to be pulled into the blue sky, heading towards the center of the court, far from Yukino's position.

At this moment, everyone thought she had made a mistake.

But Yukino began to run.

She stepped with her right foot, then her left, and finally sprang off both feet. Her steps were light and quick, like staccato notes.

She leaped into the air magnificently, like a soaring falcon, and everyone at the sidelines was deeply moved. It was a pure beauty, and incredibly fast. No one dared to blink, wanting to etch this moment into their memories forever.

Thwack—the sound was exceptionally loud. The tennis ball had already bounced on the ground, but I, the audience, Hayama, and Miura, were all frozen.

"...A jump serve."

I was almost in a daze, Yukino's unprecedented move leaving me speechless. Not only had she single-handedly erased the deficit, but she had also gained a two-point lead. With just one more point, we would win.

"You're too strong; this will easily secure our victory."

I honestly expressed my thoughts, but Yukino frowned.

"I'd like to... but I can't anymore."

Just as I was about to ask what she couldn't do, Hayama was already preparing to serve.

It's fine, she'll just hit another Ace ball later, and we'll win. It wasn't that I was being careless, but I simply believed we would win, so I calmly awaited the opponent's serve.

Hayama looked dispirited. His serve lacked its previous power, just a regular serve with slightly faster speed.

The ball flew between me and Yukino.

"Yukino."

I handed the ball over to Yukino to handle, but she made no move. As a result, the ball hit with a dull thump and listlessly bounced out from between us.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Hachiman, can I brag a little?"

"About what? And what was with that shot just now? J" Yukino ignored my question, sighed deeply, and sat down on the court.

"You know, I've always learned things quickly since I was little, but I've never been able to stick with anything."

"What are you suddenly talking about?"

"Someone taught me tennis once, and I beat him after only three days. Most sports, no, not just sports, but music too, I could learn them in just three days."

"Isn't that just a fancy way of saying you quit halfway? No, you're actually showing off! What are you trying to say?"

"...The only thing I lack confidence in is my stamina."

Thump—the tennis ball bounced past Yukino, making a weak sound.

It seems a bit late to say this now.

Yukino was almost omnipotent, so she never persisted with anything, never dedicated herself to anything. This resulted in her severe lack of stamina, to the point where it became her fatal weakness. Come to think of it, she only watched from the sidelines during the lunch break practice. If you think about it, it's perfectly logical. If you want to get stronger, you practice, and with long practice, your stamina naturally improves. But if you've already mastered everything from the start, you won't practice for long, and your stamina won't improve.

"Wait, you're speaking so loudly..."

I looked towards Hayama and Miura. The Beast Queen, as expected, wore a ferocious smile.

"I heard that!"

Miura's tone was aggressive, as if she was about to vent her earlier frustration. Hayama beside her chuckled.

The situation was dire. We had just taken the lead, only to be immediately caught up to a tie.

Our group of rookies played by slightly different rules: once it reached deuce, one side had to lead by two points to win.

The reliable Yukino was exhausted and unable to continue, and the opposing team knew it. The previous matches had already proven that my serves were ineffective against them. Even if I hit a good shot, they would easily return it.

"You were so arrogant just now, but now you've got nothing, right?"

Faced with Miura's taunt, I had nothing to say. Yukino could no longer participate in the match, so tired she was swaying back and forth, dozing off. Are you Hiei?

Miura let out a low, guttural chuckle and looked at us with disdain. She was contemplating how to defeat us, her gaze like a snake's. So, what kind of giant python are you?

Hayama, sensing the wrong atmosphere, tried to ease the tension.

"Everyone has worked so hard, no need to be so serious. We've all had fun playing, so let's call it a draw?"

"What are you talking about, Hayato? A match needs a decisive end!"

In other words, Miura wanted to defeat us and legitimately take the tennis court from Totsuka. But using the phrase "decisive end" was too terrifying... Would I be penalized? No, I hate pain the most.

As I was observing how the situation would unfold, I heard a clicking sound from beside me.

"Can you be quiet?"

Yukino's voice sounded extremely displeased. Before Miura could retort, she continued, "This guy's going to win, so you might as well surrender."

Everyone suspected they had misheard, myself included, and I was the most surprised of all.

All eyes turned to me. My presence, which had been barely noticeable before, as if I were neither there nor not there, even to the point of being questioned why I was even present, suddenly surged in value.

I made eye contact with Zaimokuza. Why are you giving me a thumbs-up?

I made eye contact with Totsuka. What are you expecting?

I made eye contact with Yuihama. Don't cheer for me so loudly, it's embarrassing!

I made eye contact with Yukino, and then she turned her head away, tossing the ball to me.

"You know, right? I can curse and say terrible things, but I never lie."

The wind died down, so I heard her words clearly.

Yeah, I know. The only ones who lie are me and them.

× × ×

In the near-abnormal silence, only the "thump, thump" of the tennis ball hitting the ground could be heard.

Amidst this unique tension, I focused my consciousness to the deepest part of my being.

I can do it, I can do it—I have to believe that. No, I have to believe in myself.

Because I won't lose.

School life is full of sadness, pain, and unpleasant things; there's not a single good thing about it, yet I endured it all alone. My bitter, miserable youth, I endured that alone too. Therefore, how could I possibly lose to someone who has been supported by so many people along the way?

Lunch break was about to end.

At this time, I should normally be by the infirmary in front of the tennis court, having just finished my own lunch.

The place and time where Yuihama spoke to me, where I first spoke to Totsuka, flashed through my mind.

I focused my mind on my ears.

I could no longer hear Miura's taunts or the spectators' clamor.

Whoosh...

I heard it. For a whole year, perhaps only I had heard this sound.

At this instant, I served the ball.

This serve was weak and had a slight float.

I saw Miura rush forward happily, and Hayama quickly move to cover. I also saw the disappointed expressions of the spectators and Totsuka looking down slightly. I ignored Zaimokuza, who was clenching his fists, and met the gaze of Yuihama, who was clasping her hands in prayer. Finally, what met my eyes was Yukino's smile, boasting of victory.

The tennis ball lacked power, tracing a weak trajectory.

"All right!"

Miura's voice, like a snake's, came as she moved to the ball's landing spot.

At this moment, a gust of wind blew.

Miura, you must not have known.

Every afternoon, a peculiar sea breeze blows near Sobu High School.

Affected by the sea breeze, the ball drastically changed direction, veering away from Miura's position and landing near the court boundary. However, Hayama had already run there.

Hayama, you must not have known either.

This wind doesn't blow just once.

Only I, who spent that year alone there, not talking to anyone, quietly passing the time, knew. Only that wind understood my loneliness and that silent period.

This was a "magic ball" that no one but me could hit.

The bouncing ball had its direction changed again by a second gust of wind.

Bang—the tennis ball fell into the corner of the court just like that and rolled out.

Everyone fell silent, pricking up their ears, their eyes wide open.

"That's right, I've heard of it... the legendary technique that can freely control the wind, 'Heir of Wind · Eulen Sylpheed'!"

Only Zaimokuza was spouting nonsense, truly clueless.

Could you please stop making up names? You're ruining the atmosphere.

"Impossible..."

Miura muttered in disbelief, and the spectators began to stir, eventually forming a chorus of "Eulen Sylpheed?" "Eulen Sylpheed!" Please, don't take it seriously.

"I lost... it really was a 'magic ball'."

Hayama smiled at me, as if we were old friends who had known each other for years. Looking at his smile, I could only stand there frozen, clutching the tennis ball.

Because I truly didn't know what to say.

In the end, I blurted out something completely nonsensical.

"Hayama, did you play baseball when you were little?"

"Yeah, I played pretty often. Why do you ask?"

Hayama seemed surprised by the sudden question, but he answered me anyway. Maybe he really is a good person.

"How many people do you need to play?"

"Huh? You need eighteen people to play baseball, right?"

"That's true... But I often play baseball by myself."

"Eh? What do you mean by that?"

Even if I told you, you wouldn't understand.

And it's not just that.

Can you understand the pain of cycling to and from school alone during the scorching heat of midsummer or the freezing cold of winter? You guys just gather around saying "It's so hot," "It's so cold," "I can't believe this," to change the subject, but I endured it all alone.

Can you understand the terror of never being able to confirm the test scope with others before every exam, having to just bury your head and work in silence, and then facing the exam results alone? You guys just get together to compare answers, brag about your grades, and then laugh at each other as idiots or nerds to escape reality, but I faced it all by myself.

How about that? This is my resilience.

I took the serving stance with abandon.

I bent my body, like drawing a bow before an arrow is shot, then tossed the tennis ball high into the air, gripping the racket with both hands and pulling it back to my neck.

The azure sky, the ending spring, the early summer that's just around the corner—I want to hit it all far away.

"Damn youth."

I swung the falling ball fiercely upwards.

The ball hit the hardest part of the racket's frame with a "clack," and then flew upwards as if being sucked into the blue sky.

The ball flew higher and higher, becoming a dot smaller than a grain of rice in the distance.

"Th-that's..."The Sky-Soaring God of Destruction · Meteor Strike!"