Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 125: Chapter 125: Fudomine’s Future Pillar

”Next up is the doubles match! Representing Fudomine, Fuji Yūta and Ibu Shinji! Representing Seigaku, Oishi Shūichirō and Kikumaru Eiji! Players, please enter the court!”

As the umpire announced the start of the doubles match, Ryōma quietly walked into the court with his tennis bag on his back, heading toward Seigaku’s bench. It looked like his business had been settled.

Akashi noticed Ryōma immediately, but Ryūzaki Sumire was still nowhere in sight. She was probably still at the hospital handling things for that pregnant woman. Akashi didn’t think too much about it and focused back on the match about to begin.

While Akashi’s attention shifted to Ryōma, the coin toss on court had already begun. This time, Ibu Shinji won the serve. Still, both Yūta and Ibu looked tense—they weren’t too confident about this match.

”Yūta, you’ve finally grown enough to stand on the same stage as me. Make sure to show your full potential in this match!” Fuji Shūsuke said with a touch of pride as he looked at Yūta on court.

Standing on the baseline, Ibu worked on steadying his mind. Though Oishi and Kikumaru were arguably Seigaku’s strongest doubles pair outside of those two certain monsters, Ibu still clearly remembered their first-year clash. Now that they were up against them again, he would give it his all.

”Oishi, be careful. Ibu’s sidespin serve isn’t that much weaker than the chibi’s,” Kikumaru grinned and called out from behind.

”Don’t worry, Eiji. I’m ready,” Oishi replied seriously.

Ibu quickly composed himself, tossed the ball high, then leaped slightly and swung with a sharp motion, applying fierce spin to the ball.

Just as the ball crossed the net, Oishi quickly moved into position, ready for a bounce toward his face—but in the next second, the ball vanished from sight. A soft thud sounded. It had already landed outside the court.

”Kamikakushi!”

”Ace! 15-0!”

”That kid’s using your Kamikakushi pretty well, huh~” Tachibana Kippei smiled as he spoke to Chitose beside him.

”Ibu’s talent is solid. His understanding of spin already surpasses most players. He’ll be one of our main pillars next year,” Chitose nodded.

Oddly enough, Kintarō stayed quiet, calmly watching the match. Not a single trace of his usual noisy antics. The reason was simple—Krauser was standing behind him.

”Didn’t expect you to learn Chitose’s Kamikakushi. Nice serve, but you won’t score that easy next time,” Oishi said, looking at Ibu across the net.

Ibu ignored him, tossed the ball again, arched his back, and leapt. His racket sliced upward, spinning the ball as it crossed the net and flew toward the backcourt.

Oishi tracked the ball’s trajectory carefully. He planned to spot it the moment it warped. But this time, the ball didn’t vanish—it spun rapidly as it hit the ground.

”This is...” Oishi realized too late. Before he could finish speaking, the ball suddenly kicked toward his face. He instinctively dodged, and the ball flew out of bounds.

”Sidespin Serve!”

”Ace! 30-0!”

”Haha! Even you get sloppy, Oishi! You’re always the one warning me to be careful!” Kikumaru laughed, totally unfazed by losing two points in a row.

Oishi could only look at him with a mix of frustration and amusement. But he didn’t say anything—he knew Kikumaru’s personality too well by now.

Akashi looked over at Ibu and smiled slightly. In both tennis IQ and technique, Ibu was excellent. When strength is close, or even a little lacking, game sense becomes crucial.

Standing on the baseline, Ibu prepared to serve again. This time he went with Kamikakushi again. The ball vanished as it crossed the net, but Oishi was ready. He took a few steps to the right and swung at the air—right as the ball landed on his racket.

Oishi returned a topspin shot, the ball arcing slightly toward Ibu’s baseline. Meanwhile, Kikumaru positioned himself at the net.

Ibu’s eyes flashed as he watched the ball. He raised his racket high and sliced the ball with a sharp motion. Fuji Shūsuke, watching from the bench, was briefly stunned, then smiled and shook his head.

The ball crossed the net and dropped near the frontcourt. Kikumaru rushed forward to return it—but the ball barely bounced, then skidded along the ground and slid out of bounds.

”Tsubame Gaeshi!”

”40-0!”

”Isn’t that Fuji-buchō’s signature move? How come the opponent knows it too?” Horiō blurted out in surprise. His two buddies wore identical shocked faces.

Even Ryōma, who had just arrived, instinctively glanced at Fuji. But seeing their captain smiling as usual, he turned his attention back to the court.

After losing the point, Kikumaru’s smile disappeared. He turned to meet Oishi’s eyes. Their expressions grew more serious, and both of them silently tightened their defense against Ibu.

Ibu calmly went for Kamikakushi again. Unfortunately, the move didn’t faze the focused Oishi anymore. He intercepted the serve smoothly and returned it with a diagonal shot.

As the ball crossed the net, Yūta suddenly appeared at the net and used a Super Half Volley to lob the ball high. Kikumaru jumped up, spun twice in the air, and smashed down hard.

”Here I come! Kikumaru Bazooka!”

Before the ball hit the ground, Yūta had already intercepted it with his racket, spinning his body to use the centrifugal force and return the shot. The ball soared high, passing in front of Kikumaru who hadn’t yet landed, drawing a wide arc before smashing down on the baseline and bouncing out of bounds.

”Higuma Otoshi!”

”Game! Fudomine! 1-0!”

Oishi had hesitated for a second when he saw Yūta’s familiar move, failing to react in time and letting the ball fly past him. They lost the first game.

Ryōma once again couldn’t help glancing at Fuji, who noticed the look and smiled back, saying, ”That Higuma Otoshi was taught to Yūta by me. So? Not bad, right?”

Ryōma didn’t reply—he simply adjusted his cap. What could he even say? They’re blood brothers. Of course a big brother teaching his little brother a technique made sense. And besides, even though their captain was smiling, Ryōma had a strong hunch that saying anything stupid would end badly for him.

As for Ibu’s Tsubame Gaeshi earlier—that had nothing to do with Fuji. Ibu had picked it up on his own, but Fuji didn’t mind at all. In fact, he thought Ibu’s talent was excellent.

The second game was Oishi’s serve. Even though they’d dropped the first game, he and Kikumaru didn’t use Synchronization. The opponents were just second-years, and they were familiar faces—Yūta was Fuji’s brother, after all—so they would still hold back a little.

Oishi fired a diagonal serve, the ball zooming toward Ibu’s back-left corner. Ibu rushed to the drop point and returned it, only to have Kikumaru intercept it at the net with a backhand shot.

Yūta immediately dashed forward, meeting the ball at the net and locking into a fast-paced rally with Kikumaru. While Kikumaru’s flashy strikes were impressive, Yūta’s Shukuchihō combined with Super Half Volleys was no joke either—and with the threat of Higuma Otoshi, Kikumaru couldn’t risk smashing freely.

The two clashed evenly at the net. Their individual skill levels were about the same. Maybe Kikumaru had a bit more experience, but it wasn’t enough to make a decisive difference.

Though it seemed like it was just the two of them dueling at the net, Oishi had already begun reading the court from the back. His Oishi Territory was gradually forming.

Eventually, Kikumaru caught a gap in Yūta’s stance and used his Kikumaru Beam to fire a passing shot. The ball zipped past Yūta into the backcourt—but Ibu reached it in time and sent it back.

Seeing the return, Kikumaru didn’t chase it. Instead, he pivoted aside, letting it go by. Behind him, Oishi lowered his racket, dragging it lightly across the ground with a scraping sound.

Oishi swung at the ball, and Ibu immediately backed off. Yūta even used Shukuchihō to instantly reappear at the baseline—but Oishi’s shot barely cleared the net and dropped just behind it, barely bouncing before going still.

”Moon Drop Shot!”

”15-0!”

This time, it was Oishi’s turn to set up Yūta and Ibu. His Moon Volley’s exaggerated wind-up tricked them into expecting a deep baseline shot—but Oishi had gone the opposite way on purpose.

Of course, Oishi also knew this wouldn’t work twice. If Yūta had anticipated it, his Shukuchihō could have easily reached the shot.

Afterward, although Yūta kept up his offense at the net, trying to exhaust Kikumaru, Oishi quickly noticed the intention. Realizing Yūta was aiming to drain Kikumaru’s stamina, he promptly stopped Kikumaru from getting carried away and initiated coordinated play.

Against the perfectly synchronized Golden Pair, Yūta and Ibu’s teamwork was clearly weaker. Their doubles play was decent, but that’s only relative—compared to the level of synergy between Kikumaru and Oishi, they were clearly outmatched.

”30-0!”

”30-15!”

”40-15!”

”Game! Seigaku! 1-1!”

In the second game, Oishi and Kikumaru completely shut down Yūta and Ibu’s offense with their solid coordination. Though they still dropped one point, they ultimately won the game.

But next was the third game, and it was Yūta’s serve. Oishi was a little concerned—because with Yūta’s Big Bang Serve, Kikumaru might not be able to handle the ball at full strength.

Oishi’s concern proved right. Even after the training camp and the U-17 mountain training, Kikumaru’s current power was only 3.5, while Yūta’s power had reached 4. With the bonus from Big Bang Serve, Kikumaru’s racket was knocked right out of his hands.

”Game! Fudomine! 2-1! Switch sides!”

With four Big Bang Serves, Yūta secured the third game. Unfortunately, this was doubles, and his next serve wouldn’t come for another three games.

During the break, Inui Sadaharu didn’t offer Kikumaru and Oishi any new strategies. He just passed along the data he’d gathered in a way Oishi could understand.

Why not tell Kikumaru too? Well, first of all, Kikumaru gets a headache just hearing the word ”data.” Second, the core of their pair—and the base for Synchronization—was Oishi.

Over on Fudomine’s bench, Akashi simply pointed out a few errors Yūta and Ibu had made earlier. He didn’t say much more—he knew once Oishi and Kikumaru activated Synchronization, Yūta and Ibu wouldn’t stand a chance.

After the break, they switched sides and resumed play. The fourth game was Kikumaru’s serve. He and Oishi immediately took the Australian Formation stance. A milky white aura rose from both of them, connecting in the air, and their pupils turned pale gold.

”Synchronization!”

Ibu and Yūta both tensed up. They didn’t know how to use Synchronization themselves, but they were very familiar with it. Back during tennis club training, they had already experienced the Wild Beast Synchronization of Tachibana Kippei and Chitose firsthand.

Kikumaru stood at the baseline and tossed the ball low. Almost as soon as it left his hand, he swung and served. Then he sprinted toward the net, staying completely hidden behind Oishi.

At the front, Oishi waited until the ball passed behind him, then naturally sidestepped and dashed backward. He and Kikumaru smoothly switched positions in one clean, fluid motion.

But from Ibu and Yūta’s view, it looked totally different. All they saw was Oishi sidestep once—and then suddenly the ball was flying straight at them. As Yūta got ready to return it, Kikumaru appeared at the net, and Oishi vanished from sight.

Yūta didn’t hesitate and used a Super Half Volley to quickly return the ball. It flew toward Kikumaru’s left side. Kikumaru jumped left to catch it, but he was a little too slow. The ball shot past his racket.

Just as Ibu and Yūta thought they had scored, Oishi suddenly appeared behind Kikumaru and returned the shot. They had no time to react. The ball landed out of bounds.

”15-0!”

That was the terrifying part of Synchronization. There was no need for talking, signs, or even eye contact. The two just instinctively knew each other’s thoughts, fully unleashing the power of the Australian Formation.

With perfect coordination, Oishi and Kikumaru completely locked down Yūta and Ibu. Even if they managed to break through Kikumaru’s net defense, Oishi always showed up in the right spot to shut it down.

Unless Ibu and Yūta could unlock Synchronization too, they had almost no way to fight back. But they weren’t even regular doubles partners to begin with—the odds of them achieving Synchronization were near zero.

”30-0!”

”40-0!”

”Game! Seigaku! 2-2!”

Using the power of Synchronization, Oishi and Kikumaru easily took the fourth game. At this point, Oishi’s Territory was fully formed. With Inui Sadaharu’s data, he could control the flow of the match even more efficiently.

The fifth game was Ibu’s serve. But now, whether he used Sidespin Serve or Kamikakushi, it was useless—Oishi returned everything easily, and they quickly fell into a defensive position.

With Oishi’s Territory complete, Kikumaru became even faster and more threatening at the net. He pulled off surprise shots that caught both Ibu and Yūta off guard, and most of his attacks targeted Yūta’s left and right sides, perfectly sealing off his Shukuchihō.

”Game! Seigaku! 3-2!”

The sixth game was Oishi’s serve. Just as he was about to toss the ball, a deep red aura rose around both Ibu and Yūta—they had both activated Beast Aura.

That’s right—Yūta had also learned Beast Aura. Tachibana’s technique had already started to spread through the Fudomine tennis club. It was easy to use and highly effective—perfect for training up the younger generation.

”Looks like Beast Aura’s become the new standard for Fudomine doubles~” Kite teased as he looked at Tachibana.

”What’s wrong with that? Even Ishida Tetsu is close to mastering it. We’ll be counting on them next year,” Tachibana replied, completely unbothered.

On the sidelines, even though Ryōma didn’t really understand doubles play, he could still feel the shift in strength. At least by now, he was used to how powerful Japan’s tennis scene was, so he wasn’t as shocked as before.

With Beast Aura active, Yūta and Ibu got a power boost. For a while, they held off Kikumaru and Oishi’s attack. But it didn’t last long.

Under their tight coordination, Ibu and Yūta eventually started showing gaps and dropping points. Even if they clawed back a couple, it didn’t change the outcome.

”Game! Seigaku! 4-2! Switch sides!”

Luckily, the seventh game was Yūta’s serve. Even though Kikumaru was still in Synchronization mode, he had no answer for the Big Bang Serve. His racket was knocked out of his hands three times.

Only on the final serve did Kikumaru barely hold onto his racket and struggle to return the ball. But the shot didn’t clear the net. Still, it showed that Kikumaru was starting to adapt to the Big Bang Serve’s power.

”Game! Fudomine! 4-3!”

Yūta managed to hold his serve thanks to the Big Bang Serve, but it didn’t change the tide. In the next two games, they still couldn’t withstand Oishi and Kikumaru’s relentless offense. In the end, they lost the doubles match.

”Game! 6-3! Match over! Winner: Seigaku!”

After the match, Ibu and Yūta walked off the court with their heads down, not daring to meet Akashi’s eyes. But Akashi didn’t blame them—he’d already predicted this outcome.

He just told them to take the match as a learning experience, remember the feeling of defeat, and keep training hard. Both nodded firmly.

After speaking to them, Akashi did something rare—he took off his jacket and placed it on the bench, then walked to the court with his racket in hand. On the Seigaku side, Fuji also stepped up to the baseline, his expression serious, ready for the next match.