bookbashuk Chapter 113 Victory Belongs to Akaya
Chapter 113 Victory Belongs to Akaya
Their leader is finally coming back.
This idea sparked in everyone's mind.
Marui opened his mouth, clenched his fist, wanting to cheer, but Kuwabara quickly covered his mouth, muffled the sound in his palm. Niou smiled, untied his braid, and retied it. Yagyu pressed his fingers on the frame of his glasses, then lowered his hand.
Yukimura's figure was reflected in his brownish-yellow pupils. Then he lowered his head, took out his notebook, and wrote a line.
Sanada didn't speak, but his shoulders relaxed a little, and his dark eyes under the brim of his hat softened.
The other members were so excited that their faces turned red.
I wanted to cheer, but the game was still going on, so I could only cover my mouth with my hand and not dare to make a sound, but everyone's eyes were shining brightly.
Inside the court, Kirihara happened to be changing his racket in the rest area and heard those words from a distance of more than ten meters.
He froze for a moment, then clenched his fists tightly, his eyes reddening again. But he didn't cry. He took a deep breath, held back his tears, and turned to look at Kabaji across the street.
"Kabachi, let's keep fighting!"
Kaba looked at him and nodded.
……
Standing next to Yukimura, Mochizuki Ryo glanced at the excited crowd, then turned her head to look at Atobe.
"Keigo, when you two go head-to-head in a one-on-one match, I'll be cheering for Seiichi, not for you."
He curled his lips into a smile, his bright blue eyes curved into crescents, and he deliberately dragged out his words, making him incredibly irritating.
"You'd better be mentally prepared. The whole stadium will be filled with shouts of 'The Child of God will win!' and 'Yukimura is the best!' Don't let it affect you so much that you make a mistake on your serve."
Atobe crossed his arms, glanced at him sideways with his icy blue eyes, raised his chin slightly, and spoke with his usual arrogant tone.
"I won't make mistakes, and I don't need your unglamorous cheers."
Mochizuki Ryo tilted her head and deliberately moved closer to Atobe, gently bumping his arm with her shoulder. "No, you need to. Think about it, I'll have Jiro cheer with me. Your people, like Oshitari, are too proud to help you cheer.
A vein throbbed on Atobe's forehead.
"Sigh! Keigo, you'll definitely regret losing me, your cheerleader, when the time comes."
Wang Yueling raised an eyebrow, took out her phone from her pocket and waved it in front of him. On the screen was the draft of the support sign that he had prepared long ago.
"I've even designed the support signs, and I'm going to make a huge banner that stretches from one end of the stadium to the other."
He paused, glanced at Atobe's expression, and added, "How desolate it would be if your side were deserted while the other side were bustling with activity."
Atobe took a deep breath and raised his hand to rub his temples.
"Wang Yueling, do you think I won't beat you up?"
"I'm trying to reason with you."
Mochizuki Ryou took half a step toward Yukimura, hiding behind him and only peeking out half her head, her azure eyes gleaming with mischief.
"And I'm telling the truth, aren't I, Seiichi?"
Yukimura stood between the two, a slight smile playing on his lips, without saying a word.
Atobe glanced at him, then at Mochizuki Ryo, who was hiding behind Yukimura.
"You're just spoiling him." Atobe said to Yukimura, his tone carrying a sense of "I've seen through you all."
Yukimura smiled, his voice gentle.
"This definitely sounds like something Ling would do."
Atobe rolled his eyes.
"You two..."
"And Keigo," Mochizuki Ryo peeked out from behind Yukimura, resting her chin on Yukimura's shoulder with a playful expression, "Seiichi is much stronger than Sanada. His signature move, 'Destroy the Five Senses,' is famous throughout the junior high school world, so you don't need to feel inferior for losing to him."
Atobe was so angry he laughed.
"Inferiority complex?! Hmph! My Ice Throne isn't something to be trifled with."
"What is the Throne of Ice?" Mochizuki Ryou blinked. "Is it that new technique you mastered today that showcased your talent? If so, you'd better work hard, there's less than a month until the Kanto Tournament finals."
"I'm not trying to be sarcastic, but your move is nowhere near as good as our Seishi's signature move..."
"Wang Yue Ling!!!" Atobe interrupted him, his voice squeezed out through clenched teeth.
"Um?"
"Say one more word and I'll drag you out from behind Yukimura and beat you up right now."
Yukimura smiled and reached out to shield the still-bouncing Mochizuki Ryo from behind. He glanced at him sideways, his violet-blue eyes carrying a gentle warning, yet also an air of indulgence.
"Ling, stop fooling around. The game is still on the field."
Mochizuki Ryo immediately shut up, stood obediently behind Yukimura, straightened her back, lowered her head slightly, and put on a "I'm super well-behaved" look.
But a cunning glint shone in those azure eyes as they stared directly at Atobe, delivering a blatantly provocative look.
That expression clearly said, "I'm telling the truth."
Atobe looked at his smug, self-satisfied expression, his knuckles clenched so tightly they cracked, and he took a deep breath before suppressing the urge to push him into the lake.
"Yukimura, you really should do something about him."
Yukimura's smile deepened, and he said calmly, "He just has ADHD with his mouth; he can't keep it still. Atobe, just ignore him."
Atobe opened his mouth, a hint of frustration flashing in his icy blue eyes, but he ultimately shut his mouth in a huff.
He finally understood completely: one of them was feigning innocence and asking for a beating, while the other was blatantly biased and their cooperation was seamless.
If you keep talking, you'll only end up hurting yourself.
"OK."
Atobe nodded, crossed his arms, raised his chin even higher, revealing a section of his beautifully shaped neck, and said with deliberate arrogance, "I won't stoop to his level (the idiot)."
Behind Yukimura, Mochizuki Ryo secretly gave Atobe a big victory sign, a smug grin on his face revealing his little fangs.
Atobe rolled his eyes at him speechlessly and turned to look at the court.
After teasing Atobe enough, Mochizuki Ryo turned to look at Yukimura beside him and suddenly remembered that he had been standing there since he arrived. His brows furrowed slightly.
He quickly carried a rattan chair from the referee's table, jogged over to Yukimura, placed the chair in front of him, and patted the cushion to make sure it was dust-free.
"Seishi, you shouldn't stand for long periods during your recovery. Sit here and watch the game."
He spoke so matter-of-factly that those around him couldn't bear to look at him.
Niou leaned on Yagyu's shoulder and muttered, "Piyo~ He's being way too attentive. I'm getting goosebumps."
Yagyu pushed up his glasses and gave a helpless smile. Marui muttered under his breath, "This is too much," while Kuwabara scratched the back of his head and smiled sheepishly.
Oshitari pushed up his glasses, raised an eyebrow at Atobe, and let him see, his eyes full of gossip.
Atobe was still sulking. He snorted and turned his head away, pretending not to see anything. But his ears twitched slightly, clearly listening to what was happening on their end.
Sanada pulled his hat brim down even lower, silently thinking to himself, "Too lax," without saying anything.
Yukimura watched Mochizuki Ryo bustling around, a gentle smile playing in his eyes.
I didn't refuse and sat down.
-
Not far away, the first-year students of Hyotei University huddled together, secretly peeking in their direction.
"Is that the legendary captain who led Rikkai to two consecutive championships?"
"This is the first time I've seen her in person; she's much more beautiful than in magazines."
A third-year member came over and whispered mysteriously.
"You first-years probably don't know this, but someone once ranked all the school club presidents by looks, and Yukimura has been number one for three consecutive years. Moreover, his votes are by a landslide, leaving the second place a huge gap."
"Really? That's so exaggerated?"
"Of course it's true, that poll post is still up on the forum."
A second-year student from Rikkai University quietly sidled up, shrugged, and said in an even softer voice, "What's so special about that? Our school's beauty pageant ranking is also topped by Captain Yukimura."
The people from Hyotei looked surprised.
"A ranking of school beauties?"
"Yes, and it's the kind of thing that no girl in the whole school objects to."
The first-year students at Hyotei all stared wide-eyed and exclaimed "Wow!" in unison, then quickly covered their mouths, afraid that their seniors would hear them.
"Seriously? A list of school beauties? How can a guy be on that list?"
"At first, the student council disagreed, saying it didn't comply with the rules. But then all the female students in the school protested and wrote a joint letter. In the end, the student council had no choice but to acquiesce."
The Rikkai freshman scratched his head and said in a voice softer than a mosquito's buzz, "After all, Captain Yukimura is indeed prettier than most girls."
"But just listen to this, don't spread it around, or I'll be in big trouble."
"Mmm... Don't worry, we're the most discreet." The members of Hyotei who were eavesdropping on the gossip all made a zipping motion in front of their mouths.
"I remember Yukimura was not only the team captain, but also the coach of Rikkai University, right?"
"You're not mistaken. This setup is quite similar to our Coach Mochizuki. Good-looking, top-notch skills, and a coach."
Another student from Rikkai University squeezed in next to them. He stroked his chin and said seriously, "If you gag your coach, it will look even more like him."
The people around couldn't help but laugh, then quickly covered their mouths, afraid that Wang Yueling would hear them.
"Hahaha, you're right. Coach Ling is great in every way, except he's too cheeky."
"Shh~ Keep your voice down, or you'll get yelled at by the coach."
"But the two of them really look good together. When Coach Ling pushed everyone else aside and made them stand in front of Captain Yukimura, I was totally smitten."
"And just now, Coach Ling was warned by Captain Yukimura's look, and he immediately became obedient. Now he's even bringing Captain Yukimura a chair to sit on."
"Do you think they're dating?"
"It seems not. Someone in the school's fan club got information from Akutagawa-senpai that he's still pursuing her."
"Akutagawa-senpai?! Then this news is quite likely to be true. He's the only one on the tennis team who's a big mouth and can't keep secrets."
……
The members of both teams huddled together, chattering excitedly about Mochizuki Ryo and Yukimura. They talked and talked, getting more and more enthusiastic as they went along.
The excitement on the sidelines continued.
The match on the court has entered its final stages.
Kabaji stood behind the service line, gripping the tennis ball tightly in his hand.
His tall figure cast a long shadow in the setting sun.
His breathing was heavier than before, and his chest heaved more and more. There was some bleeding from the abrasions on his arms, and his clothes were stained with grass and mud, but he still had the same expression.
He looked up at Kirihara across from him.
The man was leaning on his knees, panting heavily. Sweat dripped from his forehead and down his cheeks, leaving small watermarks on the grass. His legs and arms were trembling, and each breath was heavy and labored.
Kirihara's stamina has reached its limit.
Kabaji knew very well that he couldn't break through Kirihara's violent smash. The spin of that move was too strong, and the landing point was too tricky. He tried many times and only managed to receive it twice, but both times it went out of bounds.
Therefore, he cannot allow Kirihara to use that move.
Kaba nodded slightly and tossed the ball high into the air. His arm muscles tensed instantly as he swung his racket and struck the ball.
The tennis ball flew with tremendous force, like a bullet, towards Kirihara's backhand. It wasn't Kirihara's knuckle serve, nor was it any fancy technique; it was just a regular serve.
The ball speed is not fast, but the power is very strong.
Kirihara moved quickly, sidestepped, and caught the ball, his wrist going numb from the impact. He blocked the ball back, and it landed on Kabaji's backhand.
Kabaji didn't rush to attack and returned the ball to the baseline corner of Kirihara.
After three beats back and forth, Kirihara's breathing became heavier and heavier.
He knew what Huadi was doing.
Suppress his chances to unleash a furious smash, deliberately drag out each shot into a long rally, force him to run, and force him to play conventional shots.
His stamina was already inferior to Kabaji's, and now he was being dragged into long rallies, each ball more exhausting than the last. His legs grew heavier and heavier, his arms more and more sore, and every swing of his racket was filled with fatigue.
The grass under his feet was slippery from sweat, and he almost slipped several times, only managing to steady himself by using his racket to support himself on the ground.
On the fifth shot, Kirihara's return was a little short.
Kabaji seized the opportunity to go online and intercept the ball for a point.
"30-0".
Referee Pu Shan's clear voice rang out.
Kirihara wiped the sweat from his face, shook his arms, and realized he couldn't keep up with Kabaji's pace any longer.
He adjusted his stance, leaned forward slightly, and his gaze became focused.
Kabaji serves again.
The tennis ball, with a strong topspin, flew towards Kirihara's forehand side.
Kirihara didn't rush to return the ball this time. Instead, he waited for the ball to bounce up, made a feint, and hit the ball into the corner of the net.
Kabaji quickly moved to the net, preparing to intercept. Kirihara suddenly changed direction, forcefully flicking the ball with his wrist, and hit it behind Kabaji's back.
Kaba turned around and stretched out his arm to reach for the ball. The racket grazed the edge of the ball, barely managing to return it.
Kirihara seized the opportunity and rushed forward to unleash a powerful forehand smash.
"30-15".
Marui whistled from the sidelines, his purple eyes fixed on the court: "Not bad, Akaya's finally figured it out. He's not just attacking relentlessly anymore."
Kuwahara nodded and smiled憨厚ly: "Yes, you have indeed improved."
Niou swung his little braid, twirling the end of his hair with his fingers, his voice tinged with worry, "Puri~ It's just that he matured too late. Kabaji's defense isn't easy to break through. Akaya can only succeed by seizing the opportunity and unleashing his scoring move."
Liu opened his notebook and traced a few lines on the paper with his pen. "The previous demonization had consumed a lot of his physical strength, and his current physical strength reserves are less than 15%."
He paused, then looked at Huadi.
"Because Kabaji frequently imitates other people's ball movements, his rhythm changes too quickly, which consumes a lot of his physical strength, but he still has about 30% of his physical strength remaining."
Oshitari stood next to Atobe, pushed up his glasses, looked at Kabaji on the field, and a meaningful smile appeared on his lips.
"Kage, Kabaji has learned all your tactics. A war of attrition, a war of attrition, no proactive attacks, just grinding you down."
"Isn't this playing style exactly the same as your match against Sanada today?"
Atobe glanced at him.
"My style of play is inherently flamboyant. Kabaji learned it, and naturally, it's also flamboyant." He raised his chin slightly, his tone as arrogant as ever, but a hint of satisfaction flashed in his eyes.
Shinobu smiled.
"Yes, yes, it's very gorgeous."
"But Kabaji's learning ability is too strong. He can even copy your tactical ideas. From now on, can you not play in the games and just let Kabaji play for you?"
Atobe glanced at him, his voice squeezed out through clenched teeth, "Oshitari, if you utter another unrefined word, you'll have to run 100 laps around the lake for me."
Renji wisely shut his mouth, but the corners of his mouth never left his lips.
Atobe withdrew his gaze and looked back at the court, his satisfaction growing stronger.
Kabaji's performance today was even better than he had expected.
Its imitation ability has been upgraded, and its tactical thinking has become clearer. It is no longer the big guy that could only rigidly copy and passively execute orders.
Moreover, Kabaji was surprised that he could so quickly and skillfully apply the same tactical approach he used against Sanada to Kirihara.
Atobe's lips curled up slightly, but he quickly closed them again.
In the following balls, Kabaji continued to firmly control the rhythm.
He didn't give Kirihara any chance to hit a powerful smash, forcing Kirihara to run back and forth along the baseline with every shot, exhausting his stamina.
Kirihara's steps grew heavier and his breathing more rapid. His chest heaved violently, and with each breath, his throat burned with pain.
But his eyes didn't change; they still held that "I want to win" light.
One beat, two beats, three beats...
Kirihara's legs were still trembling, and sweat was dripping down his chin, but he didn't stop.
His eyes were fixed on the ball, his mind racing.
He needs to find an opportunity.
Kabaji's defense is very solid; regular shots can't break through it at all. His stamina won't last much longer. He can't gamble on the opponent's stamina limit; he must find an opportunity to unleash a devastating smash.
On the eighth shot, Kabaji's return was a little short, landing in the middle of the court.
Right now.
Kirihara charged forward, wielding his racket with both hands and unleashing a powerful smash.
The racket caught the ball, sending it flying with a strong spin. After landing, the ball slid along the grass, and Kaba bent down to catch it, but the racket passed underneath the ball without making contact.
"30-30".
Kirihara stood there, panting heavily. His legs and arms were trembling, but his eyes were bright.
On the sidelines, Yukimura sat in a rattan chair, looking on with satisfaction at the changes in Kirihara on the field.
He observed this game very carefully.
Akaya's single-leg shuffling steps are better than his performance on the first day of the training camp in the video, and his hitting technique is also smoother.
The fact that he could still execute that powerful smash even when he was almost completely exhausted shows that he had truly mastered the move.
It wasn't achieved through sheer, explosive power; it was honed through repeated training.
Moreover, Akaya's mentality has become much more stable.
In the past, he would have become furious if his opponents copied his playing style. But now, although Akaya is still annoyed by Kabaji's imitations, he can now maintain his composure and break through with his own killer moves.
Yukimura's lips curved slightly.
Akaya has indeed gained a lot from this training camp.
His gaze shifted from the two players battling fiercely on the field, turned to Mochizuki Ryo, and asked softly, "You deliberately arranged for Kirihara and Kabaji to fight, didn't you?"
Wang Yueling nodded, stood next to him, hands in her pockets, her azure eyes fixed on the court. "How about it? The opponents I picked for them are great, aren't they?"
Yukimura didn't speak, he just looked at Kirihara on the field. His eyes were focused, carrying the scrutiny of a coach and the satisfaction of a captain.
"Aka has improved a lot. He used to get flustered and lose his composure whenever he was imitated. Now he can actually calm down and find the flaws."
"yes."
Wang Yueling smiled and sighed, "During this week of training camp, I've been giving him strategic thinking training every day. Now he's finally learning to use his brain when playing ball. It hasn't been easy!"
Yukimura turned to look at him, a smile in his eyes: "You're very strict with him."
"Of course."
Mochizuki Ryo proudly raised her chin. "I'm the head coach for this training camp. Since I promised to train Rikkai's students for you, of course I have to teach them well. I can't ruin my reputation."
"I can't let you down, can I?"
Yukimura couldn't help but smile at his proud expression, then turned back to look at the court: "Kabachi's style of play is a perfect counter to Akaya. He's composed, has great stamina, and is good at mimicking. He can also play the kind of long, drawn-out game that Akaya is least good at."
"That's right."
Wang Yueling nodded.
"I want to expose all his weaknesses: his explosive mentality, his poor stamina in prolonged matches, and his helplessness in the face of fast-paced changes in ball movement."
"Only by knowing where your weaknesses lie can you make targeted improvements."
"Indeed, this match showed us his change." Yukimura's gaze fell on Kirihara, his voice filled with satisfaction.
"He has learned to manage his emotions and is no longer as reckless as before. His footwork, with its small, quick steps on one foot and his hitting technique, are much better than before. He has even perfected his explosive smash."
He glanced at Wang Yueling.
"If Akaya has made such a significant breakthrough, the others must have gained a lot as well."
"Your guidance this week has been much more effective than I expected."
"Of course." Mochizuki Ryo raised her chin slightly, a smile playing on her lips. "My training plan has been personally tested and proven. I guarantee everyone will improve."
"Furthermore, how could the number one fighter in the world be weak?"
Yukimura's smile deepened as he looked at his smug expression.
-
On the court, Kirihara stood at the baseline, gripping his racket tightly. His arm was trembling slightly, and sweat was streaming into his eyes, making them sting and difficult to open.
He blinked hard, squeezing out the sweat. He took a deep breath and hit the ball towards Kabaji's backhand side.
Kabaji on the opposite side moved quickly and hit the ball back to Kirihara's baseline.
The two exchanged blows for more than a dozen rounds.
Kirihara's stamina was deteriorating, and he felt like his arm was about to break with every swing. His lips were chapped from dehydration, his vision began to blur, and his steps became unsteady.
Just then, Kabaji suddenly hit a short ball. Kirihara rushed forward with all his might, diving to the ground to save the ball.
His forehead slammed heavily against the grass, scraping a large patch of skin, and blood immediately flowed out, dripping down mixed with sweat.
"Akaiya!"
The Rikkai fans on the sidelines gasped in surprise.
Kirihara ignored the wound on his forehead, braced himself on the grass, gritted his teeth and got up, continuing to stare at the ball.
Kabaji glanced at the blood on his forehead, his eyes flickering slightly. But he showed no mercy, still aiming the ball at Kirihara's corner.
Kirihara gritted his teeth and lunged out to save the ball again. His arm scraped against the grass, adding another abrasion.
In the next few shots, both players gave it their all.
Just as they reached the fifteenth shot, Kirihara saw an opportunity. Kabaji had just had a long rally with him and was positioned a bit too far forward, leaving a large opening behind him.
Kirihara's eyes sharpened, and he suddenly exerted force in his wrist. This time, he didn't hold back, putting all his strength into this ball.
"Riot Smash!!!"
The tennis ball, spinning intensely, hurtled through the air, skimming the grass as it flew behind the birch field.
Kaba quickly turned around and stretched out his arm to reach for the ball. But the ball's spin was too tricky; his racket grazed the edge of the ball, and he couldn't catch it.
The ball bounced twice and rolled to the edge of the net.
Referee Pu Shan blew his whistle.
"Game, Kirihara Akaya, 6-4!"
Kirihara stood there, gripping his racket, panting heavily. His legs and arms were shaking, and he was drenched in sweat as if he had just been pulled from the water; he could barely stand.
He looked down at his hands, then at the birch field opposite him.
Then he fell backward and lay down on the grass.
"We won..."
His voice was soft, accompanied by heavy breathing, and his mouth was stretched wide, his eyes crinkling with laughter.
The clouds in the sky were moving slowly, and the orange-red sunset made his face feel hot. He stretched out his hand, spread his five fingers towards the sky, and the light leaked through his fingers, making him squint.
Kabaji walked to the net and looked down at Kirihara lying on the grass.
"Akaiya."
Kirihara turned his head and looked at Kabaji.
Kabaji stood before him, his tall figure blocking the setting sun. His expression was obscured by the backlight, but Kirihara could see his outstretched hand.
Kirihara grasped Kabaji's hand.
He used the leverage to sit up.
After settling in, he patted the grass clippings off his hands and looked up at the birch field.
"Kakachi, you've been secretly getting stronger behind my back this week. That's so unfair of you."
His voice was still panting, but his tone was excited, and his eyes were bright. "Your deception skills are almost on par with Niou-senpai's! And Marui-senpai's interception technique, when did you learn that? How come I didn't know?"
Kaba squatted down and helped him pick up the racket that had fallen to the ground, his expression unchanged.
"After watching it, I learned it."
"You really are something else..."
Kirihara paused for a moment, scratched his head, thought for a while, but couldn't think of a suitable adjective, "Never mind, anyway, you've improved so much this week."
Kaba shook his head, his voice muffled.
"It's just imitation."
"What do you mean by just imitating?" Kirihara's eyes widened as he said seriously, "The moment you combine your own strengths to hit a shot that's even better than the original, it's no longer just imitation. Just like what you said before, you're creating your own style of tennis."
He paused, touched his nose, and lowered his voice.
"Honestly, if I hadn't turned demonic and tied the score, I definitely would have lost to you. This victory should have been yours."
Kabaji was silent for a moment, then reached out and pulled him up from the grass.
He gently patted Kirihara's head, his tone serious: "No. I can't catch your riot serves and riot smashes."
"Therefore, victory belongs to Akaya."
Kirihara's eyes lit up when he heard him mention his signature move, and a proud look appeared on his face: "Of course. This is my own creation, and it's not so easy to catch."
He paused, looking intently at Kabaji, "But you're really good too. I want to play with you again sometime."
"As Rikkai's ace, I will become even stronger. You should also work hard, or you might fall further and further behind me."
Kaba looked at him and nodded.
Kirihara patted the grass clippings off his backside, turned around and waved towards Rikkai University's team, then waved towards Yukimura.
"Minister! I won!" he shouted, a bright smile spreading across his face.