Yukino belonged to a special department, so almost no one knew her true nature. On top of that, she possessed such beauty and an air of mystery that made her seem unapproachable. Talking to her was less terrifying than something one simply should not do.
That was why Yuihama, who had so casually broken through that taboo, was indeed remarkably brave. Or perhaps she was simply stupid enough.
But her consistent, straightforward nature and candid kindness had moved Yukino. Other than Yuihama, no one else could have brought Yukino here. For the sake of the strong Yuihama, Yukino was giving it her all. If I had asked her myself, she probably would not have agreed to help.
Before long, we had caught up with the score we had previously been behind on.
Yukino raced across the court like a fairy. Her footwork looked like dancing, the finest performance on this stage. A bit player like me could only return the ball feebly now and then. Every time I swung my racket, the spectators' eyes seemed to say, "Get out of the way." That hurt.
It was Yukino's turn to serve again, and the audience's expectations were finally answered.
She gripped the tennis ball tightly and tossed it high into the sky. As though it were being drawn into the blue heavens, the ball drifted toward the center of the court, far from Yukino's position.
At that moment, everyone thought she had made a mistake.
But Yukino began to run.
Her right foot stepped forward, then her left, and finally both feet pushed off the ground. Her steps were as light and crisp as staccato notes.
She leaped magnificently into the air like a soaring hawk, and every spectator at courtside felt their heart shaken. It was a pure beauty, and incredibly fast. No one dared blink, wanting only to etch that scene into their memories forever.
Smack! The sound rang out especially loudly. The tennis ball was already rolling across the ground, but I, the spectators, Hayama, and Miura—none of us could move.
"...A jump serve."
I was nearly dumbstruck. Yukino's unprecedented move had left me speechless. Not only had she single-handedly recovered our lost points, she was now two points ahead. If we took one more point, we would win.
"You're amazing. At this rate, we can win easily."
I honestly voiced what I thought, but Yukino frowned.
"I'd like that too... but I can't anymore."
I was about to ask what she meant by that when Hayama got ready to serve.
It was fine. As long as she got another ace, we would win. I was not letting my guard down; I simply believed we would win, so I calmly waited for the opponent's serve.
Hayama looked dispirited. His serve was not as powerful as before, just an ordinary serve with slightly more speed.
The ball flew between Yukino and me.
"Yukino."
I left the ball to Yukino, but she did not move at all. The ball went thump and bounced listlessly between us.
"Hey, what's wrong with you?"
"Hikigaya-kun, may I brag a little?"
"What is it? And what was that ball just now?" Yukino ignored my question, sighed deeply, and sat down directly on the court.
"Ever since I was little, I could learn anything immediately. As a result, there was nothing I could keep doing."
"What nonsense are you suddenly talking about?"
"Someone once taught me tennis, but after only three days, I beat him. Most sports—no, not just sports. Music and things like that too. I can learn them all in only three days."
"Isn't that just another way of saying you quit halfway through? No, you really are bragging! What are you trying to say?"
"...The only thing I lack confidence in is my stamina."
Thump. The tennis ball bounced past Yukino with a weak sound.
Wasn't it a little late to say that now?
Yukino could do almost anything, so she had never stuck with any one thing or persisted at it. That had left her severely lacking in stamina, to the point where it was a fatal weakness. Come to think of it, during lunch break practice, she had only watched from the side. If I thought about it a little, it made perfect sense. If someone wanted to get stronger, they would practice, and with enough practice their stamina would naturally improve. But if they had mastered everything from the start, they would not keep practicing, and their stamina could not possibly be good.
"Wait, you said that so loudly..."
I looked at Hayama and Miura. Sure enough, the Beast Queen wore a vicious grin.
"I heard all of that!"
Miura's voice was full of aggression, as though she intended to vent all her earlier resentment. Hayama beside her laughed as well.
Things were terrible. We had only been in the lead for a moment before they caught up and tied the score again.
The rules for a match between amateurs like us were a little different. Once it went to deuce, one side had to lead by two points to win.
Reliable Yukino had run out of stamina and could no longer fight, and the opposing team knew it. The earlier match had already proven that my serving offense did not work against them. Even if I served well, they could easily return it.
"You were acting so cocky just now. Out of tricks already?"
I had nothing to say to Miura's provocation. Yukino could no longer take part in the match. She was even swaying back and forth with exhaustion, dozing off. Are you Hiei or something?
Miura let out a creepy chuckle from deep in her throat and looked at us disdainfully. Her eyes were like a snake's as she considered how to finish us off. So what kind of giant serpent are you supposed to be?
Hayama sensed that things were getting bad and spoke to ease the tension.
"Everyone has worked so hard. We don't need to take this too seriously. We all had fun, so how about we call it a draw?"
"What are you talking about, Hayato? A match has to be settled!"
In other words, Miura wanted to defeat us and properly take the tennis court away from Totsuka. But using the word "settled" was way too scary... Was I going to be punished? No, please. I hated pain most of all.
As I watched to see how things would unfold, I heard a tongue click beside me.
"Could you be quiet?"
Yukino sounded extremely displeased. Before Miura could retort, she continued.
"This guy will win. Just surrender quietly."
Everyone doubted their ears, myself included—and I was the most shocked of all.
Everyone's eyes gathered on me. My value had suddenly shot up, even though before I may as well not have been there, and people had even wondered why I was on the court at all.
My eyes met Zaimokuza's. Why were you giving me a thumbs-up?
My eyes met Totsuka's. What were you expecting?
My eyes met Yuihama's. Don't cheer for me so loudly! It's embarrassing!
My eyes met Yukino's, then she turned away and tossed the ball to me.
"You know, don't you? I insult people, and I say terrible things, but I never lie."
The wind stopped, so I heard those words clearly.
Yeah, I knew. The only ones who lied were me and them.
In the almost unnatural silence, only the sound of the tennis ball going thump, thump against the ground remained.
Within that unique tension, I focused my awareness on the deepest part of myself.
I could do this, I could do this—I had to make myself believe that. No, I had to believe in myself.
Because I would not lose.
School life was full of sadness, pain, and things I hated. There had not been a single good thing, yet I had endured it all alone. I had also endured those miserable, bitter years of youth alone. So how could I possibly lose to people who had been supported by so many others along the way?
Lunch break was about to end.
Normally, at this time, I would be beside the infirmary in front of the tennis court, having just finished my lunch.
The place where Yuihama had spoken to me, where I had first talked to Totsuka—that time and place flashed through my mind.
I focused my attention on my ears.
Now, I could not hear Miura's taunts or the noise of the spectators.
Whoosh...
I heard it. For an entire year, I was probably the only one who had ever heard that sound.
At that instant, I served.
The ball was weak and limp, with a slight floating quality.
I saw Miura happily rush forward, while Hayama quickly moved in to support her. I saw disappointment on the spectators' faces and Totsuka lower his gaze slightly. Ignoring Zaimokuza's clenched fists, I met Yuihama's eyes as she clasped her hands in prayer. Finally, what entered my sight was Yukino's triumphant smile.
The tennis ball lacked power, tracing a feeble trajectory through the air.
"Good!"
Miura hissed like a snake as she moved to the ball's landing point.
Then, a gust of wind rose.
Miura, you surely did not know.
Every afternoon, a special sea breeze blew near Sobu High School.
Caught by the sea breeze, the ball changed direction sharply, veering away from Miura and dropping near the edge of the court. But Hayama had already run there.
Hayama, you surely did not know either.
That wind did not blow only once.
Only I, who had spent the past year there alone, speaking to no one and quietly passing the time, knew. Only that wind understood my loneliness and those silent days.
This was a "magic ball" that no one but me could hit.
The bouncing ball was redirected once more by a second gust.
Thump. The tennis ball dropped into the corner of the court just like that, then rolled out of bounds.
Everyone fell silent, pricking up their ears and widening their eyes.
"Oh, right, I've heard of it before... the legendary technique that freely controls the wind, Heir of Wind · Eulen Sylpheed!"
Only Zaimokuza blustered loudly. He really had no sense of timing.
Could you stop making up names? You ruined the mood.
"No way..."
Miura muttered in stunned disbelief. The spectators began to murmur too, until the noise gradually turned into chants of "Eulen Sylpheed?" and "Eulen Sylpheed!" Please, don't take him seriously.
"I lost... It really is a 'magic ball.'"
Hayama smiled at me like we were old friends who had known each other for years. Looking at that smile, I could only grip the tennis ball tightly and stand there.
Because I truly had no idea what to say.
In the end, something completely random slipped out of my mouth.
"Hayama, did you play baseball when you were little?"
"Yeah, pretty often. Why do you ask?"
Hayama was puzzled by the sudden question, but he answered anyway. Maybe he really was a good person.
"How many people did you play with?"
"Huh? You need eighteen people for baseball, right?"
"That's true... But I often played baseball by myself."
"Huh? What does that mean?"
Even if I told you, you would not understand.
And it was not just that.
Could you understand the pain of biking to and from school alone during scorching midsummer and the snowy season when my fingers nearly froze? You people would only gather together and say things like, "It's so hot," "It's so cold," or "I can't believe it," to distract yourselves from the point, but I endured it alone.
Could you understand the terror of never being able to confirm the test coverage with anyone, only silently burying myself in study and bearing the results alone? You people would gather to compare answers and grades, then laugh at one another for being idiots or nerds to escape reality, but I faced it all alone.
So? That was my strength.
I luxuriantly assumed my serving stance.
I bent my body like an archer drawing a bow, tossed the tennis ball high, and pulled the racket behind my neck with both hands gripping it.
The deep blue sky, the spring that was about to end, the early summer already close at hand—I would hit them all far away.
"Damn youth."
I swung fiercely upward at the falling ball.
The ball struck the hardest frame of the racket perfectly. After a clack, it shot skyward as though it were being sucked into the blue heavens.
It flew higher and higher, becoming a tiny dot smaller than a grain of rice in the distance.
"Th-that is... Sky-Soaring God of Destruction · Meteor Strike!"
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