Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 41: Chapter 41: Strength Beyond Expectations

Both teams quickly finished registration. Once they arrived at the designated court, Akashi and Atobe led their respective teams in from opposite sides. But this time, Atobe didn’t step up to confront Akashi—because Akashi had already gone ahead and greeted Sakaki Tarō with a handshake.

”Coach Sakaki, good to see you! I hope both teams can put on a great performance today,” Akashi said with a polite smile.

”Of course. Akashi-kun, not only are you Fudomine’s captain, you’re also serving as coach? Impressive for someone so young. Then let me see what your team is really capable of!” Sakaki replied sternly.

Akashi nodded, then turned and walked calmly to his team’s bench without sparing Atobe a glance. That made the naturally arrogant Atobe feel extremely annoyed, though he didn’t say anything. He narrowed his eyes at Akashi’s back before turning to head for the bench.

”Atobe, it’s rare to see you looking like that. I guess I was right—you and that Akashi-kun must’ve known each other for a while, huh?” Oshitari said with a strange grin as he looked at Atobe returning.

”Hah? You should be more concerned about your match, Oshitari. You’re up first in Doubles Two. Don’t go out there and lose the opening set for Hyōtei,” Atobe snapped, clearly still annoyed.

”Hehe~ I’ll do my best, Atobe.” Oshitari didn’t keep poking the bear. He turned and headed off to warm up with Mukahi Gakuto.

Meanwhile, Krauser was eyeing Atobe with mild curiosity. Judging by the way Akashi spoke with him earlier, the two seemed to know each other from way back. But even after being in Japan for so long, Krauser had never once heard Akashi mention Atobe. All he knew was that both their families were two of the top conglomerates in the country.

The other regulars were also curious. It really looked like their captain and Hyōtei’s captain had some kind of complicated history. They clearly knew each other well—but also seemed to hate each other. Was this that classic ’love-hate rivalry’ thing?

If Akashi knew what was going through their minds, he’d probably fire off a Light Strike to teach them what happens when you let your imagination run wild.

In that strange tension, both teams’ Doubles Two players finished warming up. The match was about to begin, and the umpire was already in place.

Oshitari and Mukahi stood in front of Sakaki Tarō, rackets in hand, ready for pre-match guidance. Sakaki’s expression was serious as he said:

”This match, Fudomine’s lineup has changed a bit since last time. But you’ve seen the data. There are two things to remember. Tachibana Kippei is extremely dangerous at the net—keep your eyes on him at all times. And Kite is absurdly fast—don’t hesitate when you see a scoring chance!”

Then Sakaki raised his hand with an elegant motion, extending his thumb, index, and middle fingers, and said with flair:

”Go!”

Oshitari and Mukahi responded in unison and stepped onto the court. At the same time, Tachibana and Kite entered from the other side. Both teams met at the net for the pre-match bow.

That’s when the cocky Mukahi spoke up.

”Didn’t expect a no-name school like yours to make it this far. But hey, you’ve already qualified for the Kanto tournament, right? That’s more than enough. Just take your loss today and be happy with it!”

”Wow, you really don’t shut up, mushroom head,” Tachibana shot back instantly.

”What’d you say, you yellow-haired freak?!” Mukahi exploded like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

”Calm down, Gakuto! Don’t let him get under your skin!” Oshitari stepped in before Mukahi could blow up completely.

”Heh~ Just enjoy the match, if you make it out of here alive,” Tachibana said with a fierce glint in his eyes.

The umpire above had seen enough. He immediately called for the coin toss. Fudomine got serve. Once both sides returned to their baseline positions, the match officially began.

”Now starting the Doubles Two match between Fudomine and Hyōtei! Single set! Fudomine to serve first!”

Tachibana stepped to the baseline, pulled a ball from his pocket, tested the bounce, then tossed it high. As it fell into position, he swung with full force and added an irregular spin. After clearing the net, the ball shuddered midair, then split into five shadows as it hurtled toward Hyōtei’s side.

”Abare Jishi!”

Tachibana didn’t hold back at all. Mukahi’s insult about his hair color clearly pissed him off. He was proud of his golden hair. Calling him a yellow freak? Time to teach the kid a lesson.

Mukahi’s eyes widened as he saw the five incoming shots. He’d seen this technique in their match footage against Seigaku, but he didn’t expect the shadows to look so real. He ran at two of them and swung—airballs. Then he quickly called out to Oshitari behind him.

But Mukahi had blocked part of Oshitari’s view, so he didn’t get a clear read either. The real ball slipped past and flew out of bounds.

”15-0!”

”Not bad, Tachibana,” Oshitari muttered coldly, adjusting his glasses.

”Sorry, Oshitari! That one was on me!” Mukahi realized he’d probably messed up Oshitari’s line of sight.

Standing at the baseline, Tachibana Kippei had already pulled out another ball. He tossed it high and, with the sound of a powerful strike, launched another Abare Jishi. The ball again split into five shadows, flying toward Mukahi and Oshitari.

But this time, Mukahi was ready. He leapt high from the left side of the court, flipped midair, and landed on the right side, intercepting all five shadows and successfully returning Tachibana’s Abare Jishi.

Tachibana blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected his signature move to be countered like that. Until now, he thought the only way to break it was by reading the ball’s shadow or hitting multiple balls at once. Mukahi’s method caught him off guard—but that kind of agility wasn’t something just anyone could pull off.

Tachibana froze for half a beat, but Kite didn’t hesitate at all. He rushed to the bounce point and returned the ball. When Oshitari received Kite’s return, his brow furrowed. ’So heavy!’ he thought. But thanks to his mastery of various techniques, he smoothly absorbed the force.

The rally kicked off in full. This was the first time Fudomine faced opponents in an official match who could go head-to-head with them. In the end, Fudomine still took the point. Tachibana was, after all, a national-level player. His strength was a tier above Mukahi and Oshitari, though he and Kite weren’t as in sync as their opponents.

”30-0!”

With Tachibana serving again, a new exchange began. After one of Kite’s returns, Oshitari suddenly rushed the net from the baseline. He intercepted the ball and swung hard with both hands, sending it flying fast toward the far left baseline.

”FAS! (Flat Approach Shot)!”

The ball zipped past Tachibana. Fortunately, Kite used his Shukuchihō to appear instantly at the landing point and return it. But Mukahi jumped high in front of the net—almost like he was flying. Midair, he flipped, head down and feet up, and cut off the ball, sending it to the right sideline.

”Moon Volley!”

Even Kite didn’t see that one coming. Mukahi’s movement was just too sharp. They’d heard about his jumping power, but seeing it live was something else.

”30-15!”

Still, Tachibana and Kite didn’t react much. The rally started again. Mukahi kept using his acrobatic, dance-like shots, but now that their opponents had seen them once, the element of surprise was gone. And the power gap was obvious—Mukahi and Oshitari slowly started losing points.

”40-15!”

”Game! Fudomine! 1-0!”

Tachibana and Kite held their service game. Now it was Hyōtei’s turn to serve. Oshitari stood at the baseline, looking grim. In the last game, he’d clearly felt how powerful the opponents were—especially Tachibana. That pressure... he’d only felt it from Atobe before.

But now he and Mukahi had no choice but to give it everything. With that thought, Oshitari stopped hesitating, tossed up the ball, and added intense spin as he struck. After crossing the net, the ball suddenly veered sharply left on the bounce.

”SSA*S! (Side Spin Approach Shot)!”

But against someone with Shukuchihō like Kite, it was useless. He flashed to the sideline, intercepted the ball, and twisted his wrist to add complex spin. When it crossed the net, the ball’s trajectory started shifting weirdly—up, down, left, right—just like a snake.

”Habu!”

Mukahi didn’t expect the ball to curve like that. He missed it, and it shot past his feet and out of bounds.

”0-15!”

Kite’s Habu stunned everyone—Fudomine excluded. Even Atobe was caught off guard. There was no mention of this move in any of the scouting reports. Clearly, their opponents were stronger than expected.

Now that Kite had pulled out this trick, Tachibana stopped holding back. He opened up his offense fully—but didn’t use Big Bang. That move was still too dangerous for Mukahi and Oshitari at this level.

The situation tilted further against Hyōtei. Mukahi kept intercepting at the net with all sorts of moves, and Oshitari used every technique he had. But they still couldn’t stop the bleeding.

”0-30!”

”0-40!”

”15-40!”

”Game! Fudomine! 2-0!”

When Kite served, he didn’t hold back. He went straight to Big Bang serves. Not only could Mukahi’s thin arms not take it—even Oshitari had his racket knocked out of his hand several times.

”Game! Fudomine! 3-0!”

After the side change, Mukahi’s breathing had clearly gotten heavier. His dance-like shots were draining his stamina fast. He wasn’t at his limit yet, but Oshitari could tell—Mukahi probably had only two more games left in him.

When the match resumed, not much had changed. Mukahi’s jumps started dropping off, and Oshitari had to take on more defense. He could already see it—there was almost no chance they could win this match.