Dad, Come Teach Me How to Play Tennis

"Tezuka -sama!!"

Looking at his teammates before him, Tezuka felt a warm glow in his heart. 👻🐸 ♨🐯

However, recalling Muneyoshi's words at the end, Tezuka also felt a sense of urgency. After calming himself down a bit, he arranged for everyone to pack their things.

Without needing to be directed, everyone quickly finished packing.

Tezuka's mouth twitched slightly.

"Everyone, you all worked very hard in today's match, thank you for your efforts..."

Upon hearing this, Echizen felt a surge of emotion welling up inside him.

Akutsu pursed his slightly chapped lips, wanting to say something, but nothing came out.

Tezuka's gaze swept over everyone, his expression shifting from one of satisfaction to one of sternness:

"As punishment for our failure, everyone ran back to school."

Suddenly hearing that Tezuka's words seemed to include themselves, Horio and the other first-year students exchanged bewildered glances.

Do I need to repeat myself? Let's do it!

"Yes!"

Seeing Tezuka's expression turn cold, everyone shuddered and reacted instinctively.

Without saying a word, Kaidoh grabbed a white towel, hung it around his neck, and was the first to run out of the park. As the loser of today's competition, he had been wanting to vent his frustration for a long time.

Next came Momoshiro, who refused to be outdone, followed by the vast majority of first-year students...

Finally, Tezuka and Echizen locked eyes, and Echizen lowered his head, turned around, and ran out.

After finishing the group photo, Muneyoshi saw this scene and turned his head to meet Tezuka's calm and unwavering eyes not far away.

Then, Tezuka ran out after him...

"Muneyoshi, the group photo isn't over yet, what are you looking at?"

"Nothing!"

The flag announcing the winner of the Metropolitan Tournament fluttered in the wind. This was Fudomine's first Metropolitan Tournament victory, and everyone was excited. Muneyoshi smiled slightly and rejoined the group for the photo. 👹💗 😝ൠ

After the Metropolitan Tournament ended, the Seigaku members ran back to school, and Tezuka announced the disbandment of the school.

Echizen Ryoma sat on the train, staring blankly at the scenery flashing by outside the window.

At this moment, his heart was far from as calm as he appeared.

In the Metropolitan Tournament, in singles, it was another 6-0, and again, no points were scored.

Even towards the end of the match, he displayed a level of performance far exceeding his usual level, delivering powerful strikes unlike anything he had ever done before.

It's unlikely that even that made Tachibana Kippei of Fudomine take things seriously.

After all, he had personally witnessed the earth-shattering duel between the other party and the captain of the Hyotei Academy.

Seeing the final match end in defeat for the team once again due to a slight difference from expectations.

A strong sense of self-doubt, endless frustration... and a deep sense of resentment...

A surge of indescribable emotions welled up in Echizen Ryoma's heart.

Unconsciously, his gaze towards the window sharpened, and even his hands, which had been resting on his knees, clenched into fists.

A person quietly gets off the tram, and walks alone on the street as the sun sets.

A man walked around his house several times before finally pushing open the door and entering.

"I'm back."

"Hey, why are you so late today? Didn't you get eliminated from that competition?"

Echizen Nanjirō, who returned home early, was very concerned about his son's feelings. ღ(¯`◕‿◕´¯) ♫ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♪ ♫ (¯`◕‿◕´¯)ღ

He even stopped flipping through the magazine while speaking, and winked at Ryoma, who was changing his shoes in the entryway.

Seeing her once arrogant son become so simple and honest since returning to Japan, she was overjoyed.

Echizen Nanjirō, was very happy.

Bullying and toying with his foolish son has always been one of the few sources of pleasure he finds besides picking his toes and lecturing on Liu Bei.

"Yes..."

Ryoma was in a bad mood at the moment and didn't hear the loophole in Nanjirou's words. If he had noticed it, he would have known that Nanjirou was actually present.

However, none of this mattered to Ryoma at the moment. He simply agreed and walked upstairs to his room by himself.

Now it was Echizen Nanjirō's turn to feel uneasy.

Judging from his previous matches, his son has suffered quite a few defeats lately. Could he have developed a psychological trauma from them?

Lost in his own thoughts, his hand supporting his head slipped, causing him to stumble and nearly hit his head on the table.

"Kid, if you fail, you have to fight back. Don't keep it to yourself!"

Suspecting that his son had been traumatized by the beating, Echizen Nanjirō couldn't care less about anything else at the moment and directly comforted Ryoma, who had already walked up the stairs.

This was the first time Ryoma had ever seen Old Man like this, but he only paused for a moment before ignoring him.

As Echizen Nanjirō stood up, ready to chase after him for a fatherly hug, he heard a loud slam of the door shut.

"I hope this brat isn't really in trouble..."

Echizen Nanjirō pouted with some concern. "But the junior high students these days are really strong, much stronger than I was back then. It's understandable that I'm feeling discouraged."

"But..."

As if he had made a decision, he immediately turned over, picked up the phone at home, and made a call.

"Hey, old woman, Ryoma won't be training at school for the next week. Your teaching is just awful. Let me, the genius, teach him!"

"Nanjirou, can't you ever speak properly? And what do you mean my teaching is terrible? Does anyone think your teaching is any better?!"

No sooner had Nanjirou finished speaking than a loud roar came from the other end of the phone.

Startled, Nanjirou quickly moved the phone away from his ear and hung up immediately after the other person finished ranting.

"That old woman still has such a fiery temper."

The scene he had just witnessed seemed to remind him of his youth, Nanjirou silently muttered a curse to himself.

"Nanako, make something nice for Ryoma later, that kid might not be in a good mood today."

Nanako, who was preparing Nanako in the kitchen, was puzzled when she saw her uncle come in to give her instructions. After all, the two of them didn't usually have many nice things to say to each other.

But when Nanako thought about Ryoma's condition when he first came back, Nanako realized that her uncle made sense.

"Uncle, I understand. Just watch me!"

Nanako nodded, then waved for her uncle to leave the kitchen and not cause any trouble.

The night passed under Ryoma's low-pressure atmosphere.

The next day.

Echizen Nanjirō lay on his side under the temple's large bell, yawning as he gripped the hemp rope on the bell's pestle with his toes.

Just as he closed his eyes for a short rest.

Echizen Ryoma, wearing a red and white striped short-sleeved shirt and a white baseball cap, stood silently behind him, holding a red-rimmed racket.

"Dad, teach me how to play tennis! I want to become stronger! Stronger than everyone else!"

At this moment, Echizen seemed to have figured out many things, and his voice was full of power.

Echizen Nanjirō was still pondering how to reignite his son's fighting spirit.

Unexpectedly, he emerged on his own overnight, which pleased Nanjirou greatly. He lifted his half-closed eyelids, and a smile flashed across his deep brown eyes.

However, although he was happy inside, he didn't hold back at all when he said it.

"Oh my, that's really something. You only realized how to respect your old man after getting beaten up."

As he spoke, Echizen Nanjirō slightly twisted his waist and sat down, looking at Ryoma, who had a serious expression on his face.

Echizen Ryoma pursed his lips and remained silent. He knew his father's personality well; if they argued, it would go on forever. It was better to just keep watching him like this.

Seeing his son's stubborn look, Nanjirou quickly stopped smiling.

"You little rascal, you have pretty good eyesight."

"Since you want to become stronger, then I'll reluctantly accompany you to stretch your muscles."

"Thanks..."

With Nanjirou's permission, Ryoma adjusted his hat and then tossed a tennis ball from his pocket.

In the courtyard, the sounds of the father and son fiercely sparring and hitting the ball could be heard intermittently.

Thus began Echizen Ryoma's special training program with Echizen Nanjiro.

P. S.: "Please vote with monthly tickets!"