62. Sanada's Double Standards

“But it really is a pity that the captain was placed as the number one singles player against Seishun Academy. A match between Seishun’s captain Yamato Yudai and our captain would have been quite a spectacle, wouldn’t it?” Shishido Ryo, still unsatisfied with today’s excitement, voiced his regret among the team.

“Yes, it’s all my fault. I bear most of the responsibility...” Matsubara Meii’s face momentarily clouded with disappointment, and he crouched on the ground, tracing circles with his finger as he spoke softly.

“Uh… That’s not what I meant, Matsubara. If it weren’t for you, we’d have had to fight through another grueling match,” Shishido quickly explained, seeing the boy’s apparent gloom and assuming his careless words had upset him.

As they spoke, Yamato Yudai and Tezuka Kunimitsu suddenly found themselves standing face to face, no one quite sure when it happened. Yamato extended his hand with a smile and said, “Congratulations, Tezuka. You’ve secured your place in the Metropolitan Tournament.”

“Thank you very much,” Tezuka replied, bowing his head politely.

“It’s a shame we didn’t get to play each other.”

“A match can happen anytime. I look forward to learning from you,” Tezuka responded.

The two exchanged a smile and shook hands under the gaze of the assembled crowd. Seeing this, Matsubara Meii also allowed a smile to grace his lips. Such an outcome was not bad at all.

“In just over a month, they’ve become this formidable—Evergreen Academy...” Beneath his sunglasses, Yamato Yudai’s eyes gleamed with a curious light as he mused inwardly.

After the teams were dismissed and Evergreen’s players prepared to leave, Ryuzaki Sumire emerged from somewhere and clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Alright, no one rush off just yet, understood?”

“Yes...” Both Seishun and Evergreen players nodded, unsure what Ryuzaki had in mind but agreeing nonetheless.

“Oh? She looked this old even three years ago?” Matsubara Meii silently observed Ryuzaki’s outfit and hairstyle—unchanged from three years later—and muttered to himself.

“Congratulations, Matsubara. You made it to the Metropolitan Tournament,” came a delicate, youthful voice. The boy turned to see Oda Fuyuka and Iwamura Yuna. He nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

“I wanted to congratulate you when you defeated Otaki Heijirou, but then the finals started and I never found the right time,” Oda Fuyuka said with a gentle smile.

“That match wasn’t really worth celebrating,” Matsubara shrugged, then, realizing he sounded arrogant, rubbed the back of his head. “But… Otaki was quite strong. Both his serves were formidable. I’m just glad I managed to win and didn’t let everyone down in the end.”

“Matsubara, do you have plans later? Ryuzaki-sensei from Seishun suggested a dinner at Kawamura’s sushi restaurant, hoping to deepen the friendship between our two schools,” Oda Fuyuka said softly, responding to the shift in his demeanor.

“Huh?” Matsubara glanced at Ryuzaki, who was speaking to Seishun’s players. Really? Seishun didn’t even make it past regionals—aren’t they embarrassed to tag along for a free meal at Kawamura’s place?

“You don’t want to go, do you?” Oda Fuyuka noticed his slight reluctance.

“Ah, no, I don’t mind at all,” Matsubara denied. If it was a free dinner, he certainly didn’t object. Still, he couldn’t help wondering what scheme the old fox was up to.

Just as Matsubara suspected, the so-called dinner was not merely a friendly gathering. Yamato Yudai, Tezuka Kunimitsu, and Ryuzaki Sumire sat together at the bar, purposefully distant from the others, deep in conversation over caramelized salmon sushi. Matsubara shook his head. Could they be trying to persuade Tezuka to return to Seishun?

If that was truly their aim, Matsubara wouldn’t mind tempting a few more Seishun players over to Evergreen. He trusted Tezuka’s character, though—he wasn’t one to betray his allegiance for personal gain. Besides, if they wanted to talk to Tezuka and didn’t invite Fuji along, that was a grave mistake.

Matsubara stuffed another piece of fatty salmon sushi into his mouth, cheeks bulging, and glanced at Fuji, who sat quietly eating wasabi sushi. Fuji wore his signature gentle smile, seemingly untouched by the hubbub around him.

Inoue Mamoru and Shiba Saori, ever the dedicated reporters, had followed the teams to the sushi restaurant. They wasted no time cornering Shishido and Yanagi Renji for interviews, eager to know how these students from different schools had come together.

“Akutsu, relax. Ryuzaki-sensei is treating us today, though it’s a bit embarrassing to say that in my own family’s restaurant...” Kawamura was interrupted by Akutsu’s question.

“Ryuzaki-sensei is paying?” Akutsu repeated.

“That’s right. Even though Seishun didn’t make it past the regionals, Ryuzaki-sensei organized this dinner to let our teams exchange experiences—a kind of joint gathering,” Kawamura explained.

“A joint gathering?” Akutsu paused, hand halfway to his chestnut sushi. Kawamura blinked. “What’s wrong, Akutsu?”

“Nothing,” Akutsu replied, popping the sushi into his mouth as he glanced at Ryuzaki and Yamato, deep in conversation with Tezuka. What is that useless old woman plotting now?

“Fuyuka, don’t you want to sit with Matsubara? Now’s the perfect time to confess in this lively, noisy atmosphere,” Iwamura Yuna teased, sipping her green tea and nudging Oda Fuyuka with her elbow.

“No, I think I’m fine like this,” Oda Fuyuka replied, watching the boy devour sushi. A gentle smile curled at her lips as she set down her cup of pink tea, propped her chin in her hands, and watched him quietly.

Iwamura Yuna took another sip of tea, then looked at Oda Fuyuka with a hint of puzzlement.

“We’ll head back now!” After dinner, both Seishun and Evergreen teams bowed in gratitude and parted ways at the entrance.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Kawamura!” Inoue and Shiba expressed their gratitude to Kawamura’s father.

“Oh, it’s nothing at all. You’re always welcome back!” he replied.

“Take care!” The father and son bowed in unison.

“Ryu, with such a great coach, teammates, and so many good friends, you must train even harder!” Kawamura’s father said, watching Inoue and Shiba’s retreating figures.

“Of course. Seishun was the top seed this year but got knocked out in the semifinals. I’m sure Ryuzaki-sensei and Captain Yamato are very upset,” Kawamura replied, nodding obediently, a hint of worry in his voice.

“It’s alright. Failure is the mother of success. Win it back next time. Now, help me clean up!” Kawamura’s father encouraged, clapping his son on the shoulder and opening the store door.

“Right!”

On the way home, Matsubara Meii recalled what Tezuka had said after leaving the sushi restaurant about his conversation with Ryuzaki and Yamato. The gist was that they wanted Tezuka to give serious thought to his future.

Though they hadn’t stated it outright, it was just as Matsubara had guessed. Ryuzaki’s dinner invitation was never just a simple meal. Fortunately, Tezuka didn’t agree to anything. The once naive boy, so easily duped by Yamato and Ryuzaki, had finally grown wise.

With the Metropolitan Tournament scheduled for late May, Matsubara and the others had nearly two weeks to prepare.

But since Evergreen’s upset over the top-seeded Seishun in regionals, the once quiet, overlooked school began receiving a steady stream of visitors. A previously obscure institution had suddenly sprung up like bamboo shoots after the rain.

To put it bluntly, most of these so-called tennis fans were really scouts from other schools or unscrupulous reporters seeking to gather intelligence on Evergreen or scoop exclusive stories.

“More outsiders?” Oda Fuyuka watched two students in unfamiliar uniforms enter the school gates, surprised.

“This must be the seventh group today…” Iwamura Yuna said, stunned.

“Um… excuse me, are you with the tennis club?” The two, spotting Oda Fuyuka and Iwamura Yuna with their tennis bags, approached.

“Yes, but we’re not from the boys’ team. The boys’ tennis club is over there,” Oda Fuyuka replied, pointing them in the right direction, already guessing their purpose.

“Thank you so much! Let’s hurry!” one of the students said gratefully, and the two hurried off.

In the boys’ tennis club, the non-regular members paused their practice, uneasy as they watched layers of students in different uniforms and journalists snapping photos gather outside the wire fence.

“No, thank you for your invitation, but we must decline,” Tezuka said, hanging up the phone and sighing. Fuji, beside him, smiled. “Because we upset Seishun, now all sorts of schools want to arrange practice matches.”

“Yeah, I never expected so many people to suddenly take notice of our school,” Tezuka replied in his even tone, clearly surprised.

“Besides Inui and us, who used to be with Seishun, everyone’s probably keeping an eye on Yanagi Renji, who transferred from Rikkaidai, and Shishido from Hyotei as well,” Fuji said with a slight smile.

At that moment, Inui Sadaharu and Yanagi Renji, both drenched in sweat after training, were rinsing off by the drinking fountain. Inui straightened up and said quietly, “Today, fifty-three people visited Evergreen—an increase of 225% over normal.”

“Yes, and… they all seem to be fond of data gathering,” Yanagi observed, his eyes narrowing as he caught a glint from the bushes.

Inui adjusted his reflective glasses. “As much as I enjoy secretly collecting other people’s data, I hate it when others try to collect mine—especially when I have to take off my glasses to wash my face.”

With that, he blocked the spout with his finger, and the stream split like a Squirtle’s Water Gun, spraying in all directions. A shrill scream suddenly erupted from the bushes.

Purple Pen Literary