51. The First of Three Counterstrikes: The Brown Bear Is Caught!

Kikumaru served. At that moment, Sadaharu Inui remained completely motionless. Sensing something was wrong, Fuji darted to the side with remarkable agility. His excellent ball control allowed him to successfully return the serve in Inui’s stead.

Yet as soon as Fuji sent the ball back, he realized with a jolt that he’d made an error in his shot.

“Hey there!”

Kikumaru had been waiting at the net all along. Realizing his mistake—a high lob—Fuji braced himself for Kikumaru’s inevitable attack. As expected, Kikumaru sprang high, body twisting upward, arm sweeping in a powerful overhead smash.

Thwack!

The yellow-green ball hurtled straight at Fuji’s face. His blue eyes snapped wide open, and in those gemstone-bright irises, not a ripple of emotion could be found—only the deep serenity of a still pool.

A sudden, fierce wind seemed to roar across the court, followed by a few sharp, indescribable currents swirling around the tennis ball, which then vanished as if it had been spirited away.

“Hya!”

Fuji pivoted, stepping aside and bending low. As his body spun, his arm traced a graceful arc through the air. The tennis ball, struck with perfect timing, shot up in a yellow-green streak, soaring toward the sky.

“What?!”

Kikumaru’s face betrayed his shock, and Oishi, stationed at the back, was equally stunned by Fuji’s return. Realizing something was seriously wrong, Oishi rushed to intercept the ball, which carved a crescent shape through the air.

“Damn it…”

As Oishi sprinted and leaped with all his might, he understood that if he didn’t reach it, the point would be lost. But even with maximum effort, hand gripping the very end of his racket, he could not reach Fuji’s shot. The ball drifted lazily down between the shocked gazes of Oishi and Kikumaru, bouncing on the baseline and then out of play.

“15–0!”

“What was that return…?”

“What exactly was it?”

Oishi and Kikumaru looked toward Fuji, who stood with his back to them, arms stretched wide, and couldn’t help but ask themselves in awe.

At that moment, every voice cheering for both Evergreen and Seigaku fell silent. Each spectator seemed frozen in place like a statue, even Tezuka’s expression shifted ever so slightly.

“Incredible… Is this a new move Vice-Captain Fuji has been developing?” Ryo Shishido managed to say, voice thick with amazement.

Akutsu said nothing.

“This is…”

Renji Yanagi murmured so quietly only he could hear himself.

“As expected of the ‘Genius’ Fuji Shusuke. In just a few days, he’s perfected all three of his triple counter moves…”

Matsubara Mingyi swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a twinge of embarrassment for relying on his cheat-like commentary system. In the presence of true genius, everything else seemed to pale and fade away.

“Senior Inoue, what was that just now?” Saori Shiba, who had managed to capture Fuji’s dazzling move with her camera, asked blankly.

“If I’m not mistaken, Fuji relied on the centrifugal force generated by spinning his body backward, then harnessed that power to control the strength of his swing, making it both precise and perfect. That way, he could neutralize the power of the smash…” Mamoru Inoue quickly analyzed Fuji’s series of movements.

“But wouldn’t such a move lower the accuracy rate? Even though it looks beautiful and effectively counters the smash…” Saori blinked, half-understanding.

“Well… that all comes down to Fuji Shusuke’s genius-level ball control and technique. Perhaps only he could perform such a unique counter.” Inoue smiled wryly.

“To volley back a smash or overhead before it hits the ground, avoiding all the unpredictable spins and unstoppable force that would follow—was this move developed especially to counter smashes? Truly worthy of a vice-captain; he always manages to create flashes of brilliance that leave everyone awestruck!”

“It looks like… he really did return it.”

Fuji straightened slowly and turned, the breeze stirring his chestnut bangs. His blue, gem-like eyes sparkled in the sunlight as he glanced sidelong at the still-motionless Inui. So he’s still formulating tactics against Seigaku’s Golden Pair, is he?

“First it was that disappearing serve… and now this—returning a close-range smash with such elegance…” Kikumaru murmured, dazed.

“It was like… like a giant bear swatting the ball back, but instead of spinning violently on the baseline, the ball just bounced off it,” Oishi said quietly, sweat beading on his forehead.

“A bear’s counter, huh? Honestly, the inspiration did come from your Moon Volley, Oishi. If I must name it, ‘Bear Drop’ is quite fitting. But actually, I already decided—this move is the first of my triple counters: ‘Brown Bear Drop.’” Fuji’s eyes narrowed to slits as he smiled gently.

“The first of the triple counters…”

“Brown Bear Drop…”

Mamoru Inoue and Saori Shiba each echoed half the name, and as the words reached the silent crowd, the entire audience erupted.

“Vice-Captain Fuji is so cool!”

“Oh my god, I love Fuji even more now!”

“Prince Bear!”

“Lord Fuji!”

“Did he really develop this move using my technique?” Oishi realized that ‘Brown Bear Drop’ truly did resemble the Moon Volley in its trajectory. One was a slightly topspun volley bouncing on the baseline, the other a gentle drop, but both shared a kindred brilliance.

“If Fuji hadn’t left the team so early, I might have had the chance to pair up with him…”

Once again, Kikumaru was dazzled by Fuji’s talent. On the very first day of school, he and Fuji had ended up in the same class. Back then, Fuji struck him as friendly and easy to talk to. But only a few days later, both Fuji and Tezuka withdrew from the tennis club and transferred schools after Tezuka was injured by senior Takeshi Mukai…

In fact, when Kikumaru had entered school, he’d sworn never to play doubles, finding the need to coordinate with others too troublesome. His singles skills weren’t bad, either, so he dismissed doubles entirely. But after understanding Oishi’s struggles and growing close and reliant on him, Kikumaru changed his view and began practicing doubles. Once paired with Oishi by Yudai Yamato, he could never get used to playing alone again.

…

Having missed the morning matches due to their late arrival, Fuyuka Oda and Yuna Iwamura hurried by bus to Shiki Forest Sports Park. As they rushed to the courts, they heard a chorus of girls calling Fuji Shusuke’s name in delight. Upon inquiry, they learned that Vice-Captain Fuji had just demonstrated a dazzling counter shot against Seigaku’s Golden Doubles Pair. Noticing the pair, Mamoru Inoue approached and greeted them warmly.

“Are you here to watch the match as well?”

“Yes, we’re players from Evergreen Girls’ Tennis Club. I’m Fuyuka Oda,” the pink-haired girl said brightly, extending her hand with a sweet smile.

“I’m Yuna Iwamura,” the gentle, reserved brunette introduced herself.

“Oh? So you’re with the Evergreen Girls’ team? I’m Mamoru Inoue, a reporter for Tennis Monthly…” Just as Inoue’s enthusiasm bubbled over, Saori Shiba strode up and grabbed his arm, grumbling, “Senior Inoue, it’s a crucial moment in the doubles match—don’t go chatting up girls!”

“Ah… Saori…” Inoue was dragged off like a wooden puppet, leaving Fuyuka Oda and Yuna Iwamura perplexed as they watched.

“At least we didn’t miss Matsubara’s match. From what I heard, he’s scheduled for singles number two, right?” Yuna Iwamura said softly.

“Yes, let’s cheer for Vice-Captain Fuji too!” Fuyuka Oda beamed, pulling Yuna Iwamura along by the wrist.

Kikumaru served again. Fuji, feinting an attack, deliberately lobbed the ball high. Unaware of the danger, Kikumaru leaped for a smash, but Oishi shouted a warning from behind: “Stop, Eiji!”

“Huh?!”

Kikumaru always listened to Oishi. He lost his balance and tumbled forward, while Oishi rushed up and returned the ball gently. But Fuji seized the chance and swiftly struck it back.

“30–0!”