The Troublemaker

“How… how is this possible? I lost…”
Mizuki stared at Matsubara Meiyi as he walked away, his expression shifting from disbelief to deep gloom. He had been playing tennis since the first grade, and although his achievements weren’t as illustrious as when he played table tennis—where he’d been selected for the national team—he shouldn’t have been defeated by a newcomer who’d just joined the club. The way that boy played just now… was that even normal tennis?

A fast serve with no spin, that uncanny phenomenon of the ball being drawn inexplicably, and using a slice to counter a perfect smash—none of these seemed like the skills of an ordinary middle schooler!
He had spent some time with Kunimitsu Tezuka and Syusuke Fuji, and having witnessed their abilities, he had no doubts about their prowess. But even they, as formidable as they were, had never played the kind of supernatural tennis Matsubara Meiyi displayed!

Mizuki, a master of intelligence and data, knew it must be scientifically and physically possible to pull off those shots, but he simply couldn’t explain how it was done. The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became, and the public humiliation of losing to Matsubara Meiyi in front of so many people made him wish he could vanish into thin air.

“That Matsubara is quite impressive. What do you think, Tezuka?”
Fuji squinted his eyes and smiled at Tezuka.

“Yes, his control is full of technical prowess. His calmness and countermeasures when facing a smash, whether in terms of skill, physical fitness, or mentality, he is truly outstanding.”
Hearing Tezuka give such praise, Fuji’s gentle smile widened. “This is the first time I’ve heard you compliment someone so much.”

As Tezuka stood with arms folded in his usual stern posture, Matsubara Meiyi’s throat bobbed nervously as he walked slowly toward Tezuka and Fuji. When he reached them, the boy suddenly bent at the waist, bowing a full ninety degrees.

“What’s this about?”
Fuji was clearly startled by such a formal gesture, but smiled nonetheless.

“I want to apologize for my earlier disrespectful words to Captain Tezuka!”
Without raising his head, Matsubara Meiyi spoke loudly.

Tezuka, arms still folded, regarded him calmly and said nothing. Matsubara Meiyi looked up, pressing his lips together. “Now that I’m an official player, I’ll shoulder the responsibilities that come with it. I’ll run ten penalty laps around the track right away!”

Noticing Tezuka’s lack of reaction, Matsubara assumed his sincerity was insufficient and quickly amended, “Twenty laps!”

Still, as he prepared to leave, Tezuka remained silent. Fuji, meanwhile, stroked his chin with a mischievous smile—this Matsubara Meiyi certainly had a flair for the dramatic.

“Thirty laps.”
As Matsubara moved to leave, Tezuka suddenly spoke. The boy stiffened and immediately replied, “Yes!”

Watching Matsubara Meiyi dash out of the tennis court to begin his laps, Tezuka actually hadn’t minded his earlier provocation much. After all, he himself had once challenged Seiichi Yukimura in the same way.

Realizing that Matsubara Meiyi’s personality was much like his own back then, and considering the remarkable skill he’d demonstrated today, Tezuka couldn’t help but take a little notice of him. The unexpected apology, however, gave Tezuka an idea—if he wanted forgiveness through running, then let him run ten extra laps.

As the court buzzed with voices marveling at Matsubara Meiyi’s performance, Mizuki fixed his gaze on the running boy, a flash of cold light crossing his eyes.

“Huff… huff…”
Matsubara Meiyi breathed steadily, running with a measured rhythm. Along the way, he realized that even though the original owner of this body had never played tennis, his physical capabilities were impressive. After nearly ten laps, Matsubara felt no shortness of breath or heaviness in his steps.

Since coming to this world, he had done some running and jumping, but running two thousand meters in one go—let alone here, even in his own world—was something he’d never managed. In the real world, Matsubara Meiyi had barely scraped a passing grade on the thousand-meter run, so to finish two thousand meters without breaking a sweat was unthinkable. Yet in the world of Prince of Tennis, he found it effortlessly easy.

The court soon returned to its orderly state, just as it had been before Matsubara Meiyi’s arrival. Lost in thought as he ran, the boy found himself near the school gate.

Matsubara mused that, since he intended to form his own tennis team, he should choose members to his liking. As for positions like captain or vice-captain, which were mostly symbolic, he had little interest.

“‘The Professor’ Sadaharu Inui would be a good fit—not only is he skilled at organizing daily training, he’s also adept at devising match strategies.”

But as soon as he thought of Sadaharu Inui, Matsubara abruptly remembered that the current Seigaku Academy had Mizuki Hajime.

When he’d inquired about Tezuka earlier, he’d also learned why Mizuki had come to Seigaku—apparently, after joining the St. Rudolph Tennis Club for a brief period, Mizuki had resolutely quit, supposedly due to disagreements with the school’s administration, and then directly joined the Seigaku tennis team.

In the original story, Mizuki eventually redeemed himself, and his frequent displays of over-the-top eccentricity often left Yuuta Fuji in disbelief. But since his arrival in the world of Prince of Tennis had already affected the timeline, Matsubara couldn’t be sure what Mizuki’s personality was like now.

Perhaps Mizuki was still the cold and strict antagonist of the early story, or perhaps he had become even more troublesome than in the original…

His thoughts drifting further, a sudden screech of brakes by the school gate snapped Matsubara back to reality. Out of curiosity, he glanced over and saw several young men in sportswear stepping out of a car, tennis rackets in hand, striding in with determined energy.

At their head was a youth with red-dyed hair, hands in pockets, shouting, “Which one of you is Jin Akutsu, the guy who put my buddy Sanjiro Shiratama in the hospital? Damn it, get out here!”

“Jin Akutsu! Get out here!”
The man with slicked-back hair and sunglasses behind the redhead shouted angrily as well. The other two, equally tough-looking, joined in, yelling, “Come out! Jin Akutsu!”

“What’s going on? Is someone causing trouble at school?”
“They look like grown-ups from outside!”
“Who’s Jin Akutsu anyway?”

The entrance led directly to a tall academic building, and many students, hearing the commotion, poked their heads out the classroom windows. Seeing the group’s aggressive demeanor, Matsubara Meiyi, who had stopped nearby, muttered to himself, “Akutsu?”

“Hmm?”
“Hey, you know Akutsu, right?”
The red-haired youth noticed Matsubara and, along with his men, surrounded him. The man with slicked-back hair and sunglasses sneered, “He’s got to be the one who hurt Shiratama—he’s holding a tennis racket, and Shiratama said the guy looks like an elementary schooler. Can’t be anyone else.”

“You’ve got the wrong person. I’m not Akutsu, and I don’t know who Shiratama is.”
Matsubara replied with a faint smile, strolling calmly through their midst. Watching the boy’s small figure recede, the redhead’s expression chilled with displeasure. “Did I say you could leave?”

Seeing Matsubara completely ignore him, the red-haired youth’s eyes hardened. He pulled a tennis ball from his pocket, tossed it in the air, and swung his racket forcefully—the yellow-green ball shot toward the back of Matsubara’s head!