Fuji's change in demeanor on the court, of course, didn't escape Muneyoshi's notice.
He had also always known just how talented Fuji was.
He'd loved this character when he'd read the manga, and now that he was living in the world of Prince of Tennis, he could speak with him face-to-face and feel the charm and gentleness that radiated from him.
Fuji possessed unparalleled talent, yet for various reasons, he'd kept it sealed away and suppressed.
Or rather, Seigaku's stage and Tezuka's strength had held him back, making him treat Tezuka as the benchmark he had to surpass.
Tezuka was indeed powerful, but because of his injury and Seigaku's baffling system for selecting Regulars, Fuji wasn't recognized by most people until his third year.
And he'd already been known as a prodigy in elementary school.
The genius Fuji Shusuke!
He'd borne the label of genius for three years.
That wasn't something he could be happy about.
A true genius should shed that label as quickly as possible and become genuinely strong.
"Genius" wasn't the same as "strong." It was a label bestowed by the strong once they acknowledged you.
Only the strong were remembered.
Geniuses merely inspired expectations—or regret.
"Let me show you my tennis, Fuji!"
"The world is vast. You shouldn't stay hidden away here like you did in the manga."
Fuji didn't know what Muneyoshi was thinking, but he could feel the goodwill Muneyoshi was sending his way.
Still, the immense, oppressive aura coming from across the court made him take the match seriously.
Is this the conviction you want to convey to me, Muneyoshi? I can feel it.
Saeki Muneyoshi's serve had looked basic—a simple toss and swing—but the technique behind it and the sweat he'd put into it were beyond measure.
Fuji knew very well that without years of practice and a strong foundation, nobody could hit a serve like that.
It was one of the more difficult techniques for an ordinary tennis player to master in a realistic, non-Xuanhuan world.
The Aerial High Volley!
The world of Prince of Tennis was full of all kinds of techniques, but this was still something not everyone could learn.
And to send it off so casually, with such a tricky angle, as Saeki Muneyoshi had done—very few people could manage that.
"Muneyoshi's gotten even stronger!"
Watching from the umpire's chair, Saeki Kojiro saw it clearly and felt a tremendous pressure building inside him.
He knew how hard his cousin worked. What was even more frightening was that Muneyoshi had immense talent and still worked so hard.
"Muneyoshi, that was a great serve!"
Fuji gave Muneyoshi a long look, then returned to his receiving position. He bent his knees, focused, and watched Saeki Muneyoshi's movements intently.
Saeki Muneyoshi smiled but didn't reply. He wasn't especially excited, either; he'd lost count of how many times he'd practiced that serve.
Whether he used an ordinary racket or a specially weighted one filled with lead, he could now produce the same result.
"Pa!"
"Pa!"
Saeki Muneyoshi continued bouncing the tennis ball.
Fuji's attention was now completely fixed on him.
Bang!
Another explosive crack. The same precise motion, the same accurate control. The ball landed right on the mark left by the previous one, and it was even faster.
But this time, Fuji didn't let him have his way.
"Thwack!"
A crisp sound rang out as Fuji Shusuke returned the ball. His excellent dynamic vision and decent physical ability let him keep up with Muneyoshi's speed.
However—
The ball had only just crossed the net, and before Fuji could even move again, Saeki Muneyoshi was already at the net, intercepting the return in midair.
He drove a shot across the court, and the ball landed in the far corner of the opposite baseline.
"30–0."
At that moment, Fuji wasn't the only one feeling the pressure. Even Kojiro's voice trembled slightly.
The match continued.
Thwack!
Another brilliant serve, but this time Saeki Muneyoshi put some spin on the ball.
Fuji Shusuke sensed it the moment he received it. But spin was a good thing for him.
Just as he prepared to return the ball, he glanced toward Saeki Muneyoshi and saw that this time he was standing calmly at the baseline.
He's not coming to the net?
Did he see the return I was about to make?
Fuji was still rather inexperienced. That brief hesitation cost him his best chance to counter. He lifted the ball slightly, neutralized the spin, and gently sent it toward the net.
He was trying to drop it short!
"Fuji, you're making this too easy!"
"Tap... tap..."
Saeki Muneyoshi sprinted forward, reaching the net in a flash, then hit another backhand drive.
Bang!
Point on the return!
"30–0."
Thwack!
Smash winner!
"40–0."
"Game, Saeki Muneyoshi, 1–0."
The game was over.
Saeki Muneyoshi had held serve without trouble, and their exciting match had begun drawing a few people nearby to stop and watch.
The scattered murmurs reached Fuji's ears, and the smile he usually wore had disappeared.
He felt the tremendous pressure. As he sensed the blood surging through his body, he realized that, without noticing, he'd become excited.
This feeling...
Scenes from all his previous matches flashed through his mind. No one had ever made him feel so suffocated. Fuji's azure eyes sharpened.
"Muneyoshi, let's play this match with everything we've got!"
Standing across the court, Fuji declared his intent.
"Of course!"
Muneyoshi nodded and smiled. After the few shots he'd hit, he could feel the fighting spirit rising within Fuji Shusuke.
Fuji stood at the baseline, lightly tapping the yellow ball in his hand with his racket.
Pa... pa... pa...
The rhythm of the bouncing ball was crisp and steady.
Thump!
He clenched his hand, fixing his sharp gaze on Saeki Muneyoshi across the court.
He didn't toss the ball high. Holding it in front of him between three fingers of his left hand, Fuji gave it a gentle twist and let it drop with a natural spin.
"Thwack!"
With an upward slice of his racket, a curved streak of yellow shot toward Saeki Muneyoshi's side of the court.
"This ball is going to disappear!"
A hint of sharpness glinted in Fuji's azure eyes, and his cool voice echoed across the court.
Swish, swish, swish, swish...
The tennis ball scraped across the ground, leaving a streak behind. It bounced, then darted upward, wobbling rapidly in every direction.
Saeki Muneyoshi swung hard, but felt no contact with the ball.
Looking down at the yellow ball rolling by his feet, Muneyoshi gave a soft snort.
"A Cut Serve? Not bad, Fuji."
"Ace, Fuji Shusuke, 15–0."
But it was a shame—he'd already seen through the trick.
"Here comes another one, Muneyoshi!"
"Thwack!"
Fuji sliced the ball again. Just like the previous one, it shot forward, wobbling and darting as it rose.
"Tennis balls don't disappear, Fuji!"
Saeki Muneyoshi first made a quick swing with his left hand, then turned around again, switched the racket to his right hand, and confidently struck toward the spot just behind and to the right of where the ball would appear.
He mimicked the return Shiraishi had used against Fuji at the National Tournament.
Bang!
A crisp crack rang out. Right in the center of the racket was the yellow tennis ball, which had seemed to disappear for an instant.
Whoosh!
Fuji saw a reddish-yellow streak as the ball came hurtling back. By the time he looked again, it had already bounced behind him.
Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and he looked at Saeki Muneyoshi in shock.
He saw through it after just one shot? This kind of pressure...
Although Fuji had already anticipated something like this, Saeki Muneyoshi's strength was still hard to believe.
The tennis technique that had always served him so well had just taken a crushing blow.
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