Back when Saeki Muneyoshi woke up.
The finals of the Tokyo Metropolis Junior Tournament had also come to an end.
The two finalists were Yukimura Seiichi and Sanada Genichirou, the highly anticipated pair before the match.
Both were prodigies and star seeds from Kanagawa Prefecture, so they had drawn enormous attention.
Yet the match did not turn out to be the comet-striking-earth showdown the spectators had expected. From beginning to end, it remained entirely under Yukimura Seiichi's control, without a single surprise.
Even though Sanada gave it everything he had, he only managed to take a few games from Yukimura, which did nothing to affect the final score.
Yukimura Seiichi defeated Sanada Genichirou once again and claimed the Tokyo Metropolis junior division championship.
Sanada had once again fallen to his good friend. No matter how unwilling he was to accept it, he could only swallow the bitter result.
Once the organizers had finished the awards ceremony and distributed the prize money, the two packed their things and walked out of the venue, preparing to take the train home together.
Neither of them knew that, not far from the entrance to the park venue, they would be stopped by another participant who had arrived late after being held up by something else.
"Uh, Grandpa really is something else. He insisted on dragging me fishing. Looks like this tournament really is over again."
Tezuka Kunimitsu had once again missed the competition because Tezuka Kuniichi had dragged him off to fish. After dealing with his grandfather's business, he hurried to the venue.
But when he saw the sparse crowds and scattered spectators in the park, he knew the tournament had likely already ended.
Tezuka rubbed his forehead, looking utterly helpless. Having such an unreliable grandfather at home was truly a headache.
And this was far from the first or second time it had happened. Ever since he had gone to Germany two years ago for an exchange with a club there—
After returning to Japan, Tezuka Kunimitsu could be said to have had poor luck, or simply been cursed by fate.
Whenever he wanted to enter a tournament, all sorts of minor mishaps would inevitably occur.
He possessed exceptional tennis skills, yet had no chance to display them in competition. It was inevitably somewhat frustrating.
Still, he was not someone who cared overly much about empty fame. Compared to titles like tournament champion, Tezuka hoped more to face strong opponents and improve his own abilities through those matches.
Looks like I won't get a chance to play this time either. I'll have to wait until middle school...
With that thought, Tezuka prepared to leave.
Just then, he saw the various contestants gradually emerging from behind the spectators, and an idea occurred to him.
I only came here to test my own strength anyway. Wouldn't it be simpler to directly challenge the champion?
Tezuka was a man of action. As soon as he made up his mind, he acted. He lightly adjusted the edge of his glasses, a gleam flashing across the rimless lenses on his nose bridge. His poker face was filled with calm composure.
He began observing carefully.
Until, at the very back of the crowd, he spotted Sanada Genichirou and Yukimura Seiichi walking out side by side, wearing silver and gold medals respectively.
When he saw Sanada, he paused in slight surprise. He had not expected the runner-up to be someone he knew.
But for the sake of his goal, he took two quick steps forward, moved directly in front of them, and blocked their way.
"Excuse me, could you play a match with me?"
Tezuka did not look at Sanada. Instead, he asked Yukimura directly, since Yukimura was the one wearing the gold medal.
Tezuka's blunt words made Yukimura frown. His nature was to compete only in proper matches; he had no interest in meaningless games.
Nor did he want to pay attention to some self-proclaimed challenger who had appeared out of nowhere.
He had encountered more than enough people like that.
Yukimura gave Tezuka an expressionless glance, thinking, If you really wanted to compete, why didn't you register?
Or perhaps he was one of those insignificant fools who had registered without knowing their own limits, only to be eliminated in the early rounds.
How ridiculous!
But Yukimura neither responded to nor scolded the sort of person he believed Tezuka to be. He simply chose to ignore him, pulling along Sanada, who still seemed to want to say something, and preparing to leave.
"Sanada, let's go. It's getting late."
But Sanada did not answer this time. Instead, he stared intently at Tezuka, pulled the brim of his cap lower, and said coolly:
"Tezuka, don't tell me you were late again?"
"Let me guess. Did Grandpa Kuniichi drag you fishing again this time?"
As he spoke, Sanada's tone filled with displeasure. He and Tezuka were family friends, their families having known each other since their grandfathers' generation.
That said, the two families could not exactly be called especially close. Their elders were mainly like children, constantly bickering with each other.
This had also created a strong sense of competition between the younger generation.
"Sanada, it was indeed just as you said."
At those words, Sanada's anger surged. To someone as strict as him about punctuality and training, being late was already an unforgivable offense.
Let alone being late over such a trivial matter.
"That is utterly unacceptable, Tezuka!"
Tezuka was not surprised by Sanada's attitude at all. Though the two had not exactly grown up together, their paths had crossed frequently since childhood.
He did not take Sanada's reprimand to heart, nor did he respond to it. Instead, he turned toward Yukimura beside him.
"Excuse me, could I have a match with you?"
The words sounded like a question, yet were full of confidence. Tezuka lightly pushed up his glasses, his presence imposing.
They were both young, only twelve or thirteen. Who had not been young once? This was exactly the age when they were at their most chuunibyou, and Tezuka had not yet become Seigaku's captain.
He was still a boy who occasionally liked to act cool.
"If you want a match that badly, then I'll play you."
For some reason, whenever the two were together, Sanada could never control his emotions. Before Yukimura could answer, Tezuka's disregard had already enraged Sanada.
He had only taken second place in this tournament, leaving him in a poor mood to begin with. Then he ran into Tezuka, this irritating guy, who even dared to ignore Sanada himself.
How could he possibly endure that?
With all those flames of anger mixing together, he decided to teach this guy, who always acted so inscrutable, a proper lesson.
Tezuka looked at Sanada, considered it, and decided that playing the runner-up would be good enough. He nodded in agreement.
The two entered a nearby open court.
There was no need for a warm-up. It had only been a little over forty minutes since Sanada's match ended, and he had already fully loosened up during the previous match. After resting for so long afterward, he had more than enough stamina.
Tezuka had rushed all the way here at a jog, so he was warmed up as well.
The two exchanged a glance, and the match began, with Yukimura acting as the referee.
"Two sets decide the winner. Match begin!"
Forty minutes later.
Sanada was drenched in sweat, both hands braced laboriously on his knees as he bent over and gasped for breath. Sweat streamed down his cheeks and chin, dripping continuously to the ground.
The intimidating aura and fighting spirit he had displayed earlier were completely gone. He struggled to raise his head and look at Tezuka across the court, his eyes holding only confusion and blankness.
Who am I?
What am I doing?
Oh! I'm playing a match...
Tezuka Kunimitsu, glowing all over on the other side, is so strong...
His absolute strength had crushed Sanada completely. The pressure and frustration Tezuka inflicted on him were even greater than Yukimura's.
Even after using the full extent of Swift as the Wind and Aggression Like Fire, he had barely managed to win a single game.
And there was a good chance that one game had only been given to him because Tezuka was familiarizing himself with his techniques.
6-1.
6-0.
In the second set, Tezuka had shut him out completely. He had not scored a single point.
Whether it was The State of Selflessness: Hundred Refinements, which could return spin, power, and ball speed at double strength, or Tezuka Zone, which manipulated extreme spin—
Each of those techniques required an ordinary person to spend a lifetime studying.
An ordinary person who learned even one of his moves would be called astonishingly gifted. Yet to that detestable guy across the court, these powerful techniques seemed effortless.
This was the first time Sanada had experienced being completely crushed by someone his own age. Even Yukimura, acting as referee, was staring at Tezuka with an exceptionally grave expression.
He, too, felt immense pressure. At that moment, even Yukimura felt that if he stepped onto the court, he might not necessarily be able to defeat Tezuka.
Sanada finally collapsed from exhaustion, and it took him a full fifteen minutes to recover.
After getting back to his feet, Sanada looked at Tezuka, who had already put his racket into his tennis bag and straightened his clothes. He was silent for a moment before slowly saying:
"I lost, Tezuka... But next time, I won't lose to you again!"
There was no furious rage or hysterical outburst. Sanada calmly acknowledged his defeat, then walked away without looking back.
Yukimura lagged a few steps behind. He paused briefly and fixed his gaze on Tezuka, saying nothing, as though he wanted to firmly commit him to memory.
It was written yesterday and scheduled for release today. Please support it. Recommendations are welcome.
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