53. Chishan Kumakiri, the One-Pitch Wonder

“So that’s how it is…” Daishi suddenly understood, feeling a bit annoyed that he hadn’t seen through Akira’s plan sooner. Sending Fuji to the backcourt wasn’t just to limit his own Moon Volley attacks—it was also using his knowledge of Eiji’s stamina to wear him down quickly in singles play.

“Eiji’s stamina is his greatest weakness, something none of you seemed to notice. But as someone who observes his training and matches every day, I’d already become aware of it. It was only confirmed in the recent data analysis,” Sadaharu Inui remarked with a satisfied smile.

“No wonder Akira is so formidable. His command of opponents’ information makes him our invincible weapon in matches. But to think he even collects intelligence on former teammates… Looks like we’ll have to be careful around him from now on,” Fuji said, narrowing his eyes and smiling slyly like a cunning little bear.

“Match over! Evergreen wins! 6-3!”

With Sadaharu Inui’s strategy constraining Seigaku’s Golden Pair, Fuji and he faced almost no resistance in the next three games. Though Daishi and Eiji managed to fight back for one set, victory was inevitable.

The four walked to the net for the customary handshake. Eiji, now able to speak a little, forced a smile. “You really scare me, Akira.”

“In any case, it was a brilliant match. We’ll have to keep working hard, Eiji,” Daishi said, thoroughly convinced by the defeat. He had anticipated the possibility of losing once Eiji’s stamina began to wane, but he hadn’t expected such a crushing outcome. Their desperate counterattack only managed to reclaim a single set from Akira and Fuji.

“The Golden Pair… actually lost.”

The Seigaku players cheering for Daishi and Eiji from the sidelines were incredulous. In school ranking matches, the Golden Pair had always been unbeatable, no matter the situation—and now they had been defeated by Evergreen.

“Sadaharu Inui is truly remarkable. His comprehensive data on opponents, combined with Fuji’s genius-level skill, makes their doubles partnership unbeatable,” Inoue Mamoru praised, while Shiba Saori hurried to take photos of Evergreen’s main lineup. “Yes, they’re really amazing. Seigaku is a seeded school, after all.”

“Thank you.”

“Thanks.”

Sadaharu Inui and Fuji returned to the sideline where Shishido Ryo handed them water bottles and towels. The two accepted them gratefully.

“You really gave me a scare just now—I thought our doubles would lose,” Shishido Ryo said, relieved.

“With Akira on our side, losing is quite a challenge,” Fuji replied with a gentle smile.

“But the other team’s first doubles pair isn’t weak either. Although they’re not as formidable as Daishi and Eiji, their player Kawai Kazuo is the only one among Seigaku’s main lineup with a nickname. In third year, he’s known as the ‘Pre-front Line Defender Killer.’ As for Sugiyama Sugi, he’s a player with a host of technical tricks.”

Listening to Sadaharu Inui’s analysis, Matsubara Meii asked doubtfully, “Akira, what does ‘Pre-front Line Defender Killer’ mean? Is it that this Kawai Kazuo guy is really good at restricting the opponent’s front-line players in doubles?”

“Exactly. That’s why Captain Yamato paired him with Sugiyama Sugi for doubles. In some ways, Kawai Kazuo’s front-line defense can be even harder to break through than Eiji’s,” Sadaharu Inui nodded. His seriousness made Matsubara Meii feel a bit skeptical—not because he doubted Akira’s information, but because the phrase ‘the only enemy with a nickname among Seigaku’s third years’ struck him as odd.

At first glance, there was nothing wrong with it, but the moniker ‘Pre-front Line Defender Killer’ sounded terribly adolescent.

Thinking it over, Matsubara Meii recalled that in “Naruto,” there were also characters with nicknames. The ‘Red Sand Dust’ from Sand Village, Kazekage Daimaru, left a deep impression—after all, he was a major figure who even got a romantic scene near the series finale! Yet, despite the impressive-sounding name, Daimaru’s abilities were disappointing. Meii wondered if Kawai Kazuo, the ‘Pre-front Line Defender Killer,’ would turn out to be equally unimpressive.

“Everything’s in order for the next match, Renji?” Sadaharu Inui, unaware of Matsubara Meii’s racing thoughts, looked to Yanagi Renji, who was taking off his jacket.

“No worries, Sadaharu,” Yanagi Renji replied with a smile, then reassured the nervous Shiba Kumokiri, “Just relax, Shiba-senpai. Treat it as any other match.”

“Ah… Yes!” Shiba Kumokiri’s throat bobbed as he forced a nervous laugh.

“This won’t do…” Seeing Shiba Kumokiri’s obvious anxiety, Matsubara Meii scratched his head and stepped forward, speaking earnestly, “Shiba, don’t forget what I told you.”

“Huh? Oh! I remember!” Shiba Kumokiri was startled, then recalled Meii’s encouragement to become Evergreen’s pillar. Though it sounded like a hopeful reminder, to him it was a recognition of his ability and his capacity to shoulder important responsibilities.

“Don’t worry, we’ll definitely win!” Shiba Kumokiri’s face flushed with excitement.

“Sugiyama, Kawai, get ready.” Yamato Yudai stood with arms crossed, expressionless.

“Yes!” The two, already warmed up, responded promptly.

“Captain, I heard Evergreen’s first doubles player Yanagi Renji transferred from Rikkai. Will Sugiyama and Kawai be alright…” Another Seigaku regular, Saito Minato, voiced his concern to Yamato Yudai.

“They’ve already given their all, and Daishi and Eiji are also first-timers at a district qualifying match,” Yamato Yudai replied with a faint smile. Saito nodded in sudden understanding. “That’s right—they’ve only just become regulars as first-years. The other starters are all third-year veterans—except me, of course.”

“One set determines the winner! Evergreen’s Yanagi Renji to serve!”

The first doubles match began. Sugiyama grinned at Kawai, “Let’s show them what we’ve got, Kazuo!”

“Okay! My blazer, Sugi!” Kawai Kazuo, positioned behind, returned the smile.

The ball rocketed from Yanagi Renji’s raised racket toward Kawai Kazuo. The latter returned it easily, his eyes flashing with sharp intent as he darted toward the net.

Yanagi Renji quickly noticed the movement of Kawai Kazuo and Sugiyama Sugi. Judging by their posture, Kawai Kazuo was rushing up for a volley, while Sugiyama Sugi was positioning for an opportunity. Yanagi called out to Shiba Kumokiri.

“Shiba-senpai, it’s all up to you!”

“I don’t know if a miracle will happen, but when it comes to power, I’ll never fall short!” Shiba Kumokiri roared, raising his racket and swinging fiercely—but just as he was about to strike, his foot slipped!

“Oh no!”

Those outside the court watched Shiba Kumokiri begin to fall, holding their breath.

Because of his excessive force, Shiba Kumokiri lost his balance and flung his racket wildly. As it spun through the air, it bizarrely struck the ball that Kawai Kazuo was about to return. Kawai, even with his reputation as Seigaku’s ‘Pre-front Line Defender Killer,’ was completely unprepared for this move. He never expected Shiba Kumokiri to return the shot in such a manner!

Whoosh!

The tennis ball grazed Kawai Kazuo’s cheek and flew past. Sugiyama Sugi, behind him, was similarly caught off guard. The next moment, the ball struck him squarely in the face!

“Waaah!”

He flipped backward onto the ground, his racket clattering outside the court. Sugiyama Sugi’s mouth gaped as his limbs twitched uncontrollably. The tennis ball seemed glued to his face, refusing to fall off until Kawai Kazuo hurried over to help, finally removing the ‘killer tool’ that had felled his partner.

Seeing streaks of blood on the ball’s surface, Kawai Kazuo cried out in alarm, “Hey, Sugi, are you alright?!”

“Ah… ah…”

Sugiyama Sugi lay flat on his back, twitching, his eyes rolling and foam streaming from his mouth. Clearly, Shiba Kumokiri’s shot had knocked him out cold!

“Hey, Seigaku, is he okay?” The referee rushed over, diagnosed the situation, and shook his head helplessly. Kawai Kazuo, equally at a loss, talked quietly with the official.

“Did I do something wrong, Renji…” Shiba Kumokiri asked anxiously, gazing at the scene across the court.

“No, tennis doesn’t prohibit shots to any part of the body. But that last shot… was a bit too powerful. Looks like the opponent won’t be able to stand up,” Yanagi Renji replied, sweating slightly.

“I never expected my foot to slip, and for my flung racket to actually hit the ball…” Shiba Kumokiri scratched his head, embarrassed.