What Do You Think of Tennis?

The next morning, Horio had just sat down in the classroom when he noticed that Ryoma, seated in front of him, was nowhere to be seen.

Figuring he must have gone to morning practice, Horio decided to head to the courts for a look.

As soon as he arrived at the courts, Horio heard yesterday's Arai arguing with Ryoma, flanked by two other upperclassmen, something about an intra-school ranking match.

Seeing that none of the regulars were practicing on the courts that morning, Horio found it boring and left, returning to the classroom.

When afternoon classes ended, Horio and Ryoma went to the tennis courts for stamina training. It wasn't long before the first-years were groaning about how exhausting it was.

Horio, looking as fresh as ever, and Ryoma, barely breaking a sweat, both seemed full of energy.

"First-years, no slacking. Next up: fifty sit-ups."

The upperclassmen, noticing Horio and the others stopping, immediately ordered them to start another drill.

Just then, Arai and his two lackeys appeared, arrogantly warning Horio that today was the first day the regulars were back in training. Before he could finish his threat, they heard footsteps approaching from behind.

Five regulars in blue-and-white uniforms—Kaitou Kaoru, Inui Sadaharu, Oishi Shichirou, Kikumaru Eiji, and Fuji Syusuke—walked into the courts, tennis bags slung over their shoulders.

The arrogant Arai immediately shut his mouth. Seeing this, Horio let out a disdainful tch. A worthless bully who only knew how to push around the weak.

Back when he watched The Prince of Tennis in his past life, he'd always hated this Arai—no skill, just throwing his seniority around. Now that he was in this world, Horio hated him even more.

After arriving at the courts, the regulars greeted the new students and immediately started their daily serve-and-receive drills, making the first-years watch with envy.

Arai, standing nearby, couldn't resist running his mouth again at Horio.

"See that? That's the strength of a regular. No matter how good your serve is, you've got no right to act tough here."

"What are you so proud of? A guy like Momoshiro Takeshi, with a bad foot, could scare you off. Why are you still hanging around the tennis club? Trash belongs in the trash can."

Hearing Arai start his mouth off again, Horio's face instantly turned cold as he shot back without holding back.

Just then, Oishi Shichirou's serve went off course, and the ball flew toward Horio.

Without moving his eyes from Arai, Horio tightened his grip on his racket and swung hard at the incoming ball.

The ball, which had been floating lazily downward, now carried a fierce spin as it shot toward the flustered Arai.

Watching the ball speed toward him, Arai panicked. Genuine fear rooted his feet to the spot. As the ball grew closer and closer, Arai shut his eyes in terror.

He felt a sharp gust of wind brush past his ear. The ball, which had been flying straight, suddenly curved in midair and landed at a sharp angle into the ball basket beside Oishi Shichirou.

The first-years and the second- and third-year club members who saw this all wore expressions of shock.

The regulars' gazes toward Horio shifted—no longer underestimating him as just another newbie. This unusual newcomer made everyone in their hearts take things a bit more seriously.

"A tennis player who can't even look a ball in the eye—what do you take tennis for?"

"A senior who only bullies the weak—what a great senpai you are."

Ryoma, who also couldn't stand Arai, chimed in.

Snapping back to reality after being mocked, Arai—still shaken by the fear Horio had instilled in him—hadn't recovered when a boy with gold-rimmed glasses appeared.

"What's all this noise in the courts? Why the commotion? The three of you, ten laps around the field."

The newcomer was none other than Tezuka Kunimitsu, captain of the Seigaku tennis club. Then Tezuka turned and continued.

"Everyone else, start warming up. After warming up, second- and third-years enter the courts. First-years prepare to pick up balls. That is all."

"Yes!"

Arai, forced to run laps, was furious, but he no longer dared to provoke Horio.

As he turned to start his run, he spotted Ryoma's tennis bag. A scheme began to form in his mind.

After finishing their ten laps, Horio and Ryoma returned to the courts. The first-years were practicing swings, but when Ryoma went to continue his training, he couldn't find his bag.

Arai, who had been watching Ryoma closely, caught this and didn't hesitate to pick a fight.

"You're pretty confident, huh? Coming to the courts without a racket. You think swinging isn't important to you?"

"Or is it because everyone sees you as the hot new talent? Hahahahaha."

"If you're that confident, I don't mind playing you. Too bad you don't have a racket, so you'll have to use this."

With that, he picked up an old, worn-out racket from the ground and tossed it to Ryoma. Ryoma looked at the ugly faces before him.

He immediately understood that his racket had been hidden. So he accepted Arai's challenge.

Outside the courts, Horio returned from buying drinks after his laps and saw Ryoma on the court with an old racket, facing off against Arai.

"What's going on? Why is Ryoma playing that loser?"

Seeing Horio back, Katsuro and the others explained what had happened.

"Oh, so that's the type. Can't be strong himself, so he has to use dirty tricks to feel good. A pathetic, worthless piece of trash."

Horio deliberately raised his voice, loud enough for the whole court to hear.

When everyone turned to look at him, Horio immediately added.

"Ryoma, want me to lend you my racket? Some trash dares to hide your racket, but they wouldn't dare touch mine."

The moment Arai on the court heard Horio's sudden voice, his previously reignited arrogance instantly deflated.

"It's fine, this racket works too. Hey, let's play, don't hold back."

As expected, Arai managed to score a few points in the opening rallies because Ryoma wasn't used to the racket.

After that, Ryoma steamrolled him without mercy, driving Arai to his knees questioning his life. Getting schooled by two freshmen in a single day—no one would feel good about that.

"How about those two freshmen? Not bad, especially that Horio Satoshi."

"Those who break the rules cannot be forgiven. Everyone runs laps around the field."

Standing by the classroom window, having watched the whole affair unfold, Tezuka Kunimitsu finished speaking and turned to leave, leaving a bewildered Oishi Shichirou behind. He'd meant to show Tezuka some promising talent, not get the whole team sentenced to running laps.

But as Tezuka turned and walked away, his mind was on something else. If his interest in Echizen Ryoma was purely admiration for natural talent...

Then with Horio, beyond his flawless ability, it was the words he'd thrown at Arai—"What do you take tennis for?"—that struck Tezuka more deeply.

Watching the door close behind Tezuka, Coach Ryuzaki, checking the list for the school's internal ranking tournament, let a faint smile cross her face. Because on that roster filled with second- and third-year names, she spotted two new ones.