A Brief Introduction by the Author
Welcome back, yet again. I hope you've enjoyed the first two chapters. This third installment follows Daisaku Yamaguchi during the first round of play, as he goes to scout on some of the teams at the national tournament. You should see some familiar faces appear before this chapter is over. This time around on our OC spotlight, let's take a look at Daisaku.
Daisaku Yamaguchi (2nd year) - Naturally athletic, Daisaku enjoys playing both tennis and kendo (a Japanese martial art where armored players spar against each other with bamboo swords), and has done both since he was very young. He habitually fills the Singles Three spot for Hida, although he is generally regarded (with Yuya Kawakami) as one of the team's two weakest players. Daisaku is tall and well muscled from all his years of swinging sword and racket. Thanks to this he is recognized as the team's best power hitter, although his range of shots is limited. He has an oval-shaped face and short, mussy, bleach-blond hair. (The real Daisaku is not quite as big as, but looks similar to, Shiyu Kusanagi from X/1999)
Play Style: Aggressive Baseliner
Plays: Right-handed
Height: 183cm
Weight: 72kg
Blood Type: B
Birthday: 8 August
Dark Horse
Chapter 3 - Bees
Daisaku Yamaguchi collapsed onto the bench, cradling his head in his hands. A towel, already damp with perspiration, hung around the back of his neck and trailed its twin ends over his shoulders. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead, stinging as they trickled into his eyes. Daisaku panted, gulping down air in a futile effort to fill his lungs. A tingling sensation spread through his body, starting at his toes and running quickly up his spine and to the ends of his fingers, as oxygen finally infused his bloodstream.
The sun was peeking over the treetops just past the edge of the tennis court. It was only eight-thirty in the morning, and the first-day matches of the All-Japan Junior High School Tennis Championships had yet to begin, but Daisaku felt like he'd played a full day of tennis. Worse, the day was already hot this early and threatened to become sweltering by noon.
Daisaku whipped a hand up to the towel around his neck and snatched it over his head, scrubbing the towel over his spiked bleach-blond hair and his forehead to pick up some of the sweat that kept sliding down his face. He heaved a sigh and willed his muscles to relax.
Ando-sensei had told the Hida players not to overwork themselves, and glancing around the courts as the warm-up play finished, Daisaku saw that everyone but he and his practice partner Kurari still seemed in top form. But Daisaku and Kurari were Hida's two big hitters, and whenever they hit against each other, they always played their hardest. It was something of an unspoken competition between them. Daisaku never bothered to consider why they fought each other so hard. It just felt right, like anything less would be an insult. If Daisaku was going to play Kurari, he was going to play like his life depended on the outcome, and Kurari seemed to feel the same way.
"It's sort of like kendo, I suppose."
Daisaku didn't realize that he'd voiced his thought until he heard Kurari's voice, sharp and high-pitched, responding. "What's like kendo, Daisaku?" The other player flopped onto the bench beside Daisaku, reclining and draping his arms behind the back of the bench. "Or were you talking to yourself again?" There was a hint of amusement in Kurari's tone.
"Oh, I dunno." Daisaku dithered for a moment before answering. "The way we play, I guess. In kendo, you're always supposed to treat each strike like your life depended on it. You give everything you have, all the time. Sorta like how we play when we're up against each other."
Kurari snorted. "Crap, Daisaku, s'that what you think?" Barking a laugh, Kurari grabbed the towel off Daisaku's head and used it to wipe his own sweat away. "I just play like that 'cause… Ehh, whatever. I dunno. But I mean, it's not like I get any practice playing Shouta." Kurari gave a quick shrug and threw the towel back at Daisaku.
Kurari and Shouta Iwasa were doubles partners, usually playing in the Doubles Two slot for the Hida tennis team. Because of that, most of Kurari's practice time was spent with Iwasa. Iwasa was a strong player himself, but he was also notorious for being the laziest player on the Hida roster.
The towel Kurari had stolen landed on the bench next to Daisaku. He gave it a suspicious glance. Daisaku couldn't help but feel a little repulsed by the idea of using the same towel as someone else to dry off his sweat. Sighing again, he pushed himself up off the bench and grabbed the towel, meaning to return it to one of Ando-sensei's supply boxes. Behind him, he heard another piercing, dry laugh from Kurari. "Well anyway, looks like I got you good and warmed up, Daisaku!"
Daisaku's legs throbbed painfully as he walked to the supply boxes, but he didn't challenge Kurari's comment. Honestly, Daisaku was happier with his current exhaustion than he would have been with a more normal warm-up. He still had at least a few hours until he would have to play, time for the soreness to abate. And anyway, Daisaku played his best tennis when he was tired.
Skill was important in tennis, of course. But in Daisaku's mind, skill was only half of what a player needed if he wanted to win. The other half was determination. Really great players, all the ones Daisaku had seen, weren't great because of their skill. A player was great because, when it came down to the end of a match, he refused to lose. He fought for every point, went to the limit of his abilities, and then pushed himself past that limit.
That was the sort of player Daisaku wanted to be. He knew he needed to improve his skills too. He didn't have Tetsuya's speed or Sunama's control. He couldn't put the same sort of spin on a ball as Seiichi. Daisaku wasn't the best player on the Hida team; he probably wasn't even the third or forth best player. But he had an impressive win record, and because of that record he held Hida's Singles Three position. And the reason for all that was very simple.
Daisaku didn't like to lose.
There was a lot more to tennis than just mastery of the basic skills. There was being able to focus yourself. There was refusing to give in, even when your opponent seemed unbeatable. Tennis wasn't just physical. It was mental. Spiritual.
"A lot like kendo, I suppose…"
As Daisaku tossed the towel into one of the boxes, Seiichi jogged up looking as energetic as he always did, a manic smile plastered on his face. "Hey, Daisaku, did you see that team in black?" Seiichi flung an arm wildly over his shoulder, pointing at the now-vacant courts that, Daisaku thought, had been filled when the Hida team arrived.
"Uh, no, not really. Sorry, Seiichi. Why, something special about them?"
Seiichi's eyes opened wide in shock, as if he couldn't believe Daisaku's ignorance. "You've got to be kidding! You didn't notice them? That was Fudomine, Daisaku! You know, Fudomine!"
Daisaku stared at Seiichi for a second and then gave a nod. "Oh. Yeah, sure. Fudomine." Daisaku had no idea who Fudomine was, but his answer seemed to be enough. Seiichi was talking again, rambling about the black-jerseyed team. Daisaku glanced around the courts, not really paying any attention to what Seiichi was saying. Seiichi had been like this, prone to dramatic rambling, since Daisaku had first met him in elementary school. But the two of them had been friends for six years now, and Daisaku had learned to deal with Seiichi's histrionics. Smile and nod; that usually seemed to keep Seiichi happy. It didn't shut him up, but in those six years Daisaku still hadn't found anything that would shut him up when Seiichi really started rambling.
A loud voice brought Daisaku's attention around. At the head of the stairs leading up from the tennis courts, Ando-sensei was standing with one hand raised and motioning for the Hida players to gather around him. Daisaku gritted his teeth and began to jog toward Hida's tennis club advisor, fighting off the pain from his still-aching legs. Seiichi loped after him easily, still going on about that Fudomine team. Daisaku continued to ignore him.
When the Hida team had gathered, a wall of sky-blue-and-black uniforms, Ando-sensei called them to attention. Seiichi finally shut up as the team bowed in unison. Then, with a quick glance at his watch, Ando-sensei began to speak to the assembled players.
"Okay, everyone, listen up. It's eight forty. Opening ceremony starts in twenty minutes, so we need to get to Court One and get lined up. You know the drill: just act the same as you did at Tokai, same as at Gifu. Only difference is that there are more people watching today." Ando's eyes clouded over for a moment, and he fixed his gaze on Shouta Iwasa, slouching next to Kurari. "Though now that I think about it…."
Daisaku saw a flash of bright green streak through the air between Ando and Iwasa. There was a loud thump, and the streak of color ricocheted into the air. It seemed to take a few seconds for the team to realize what happened. But then Iwasa started rubbing his forehead and complaining in his distinctive drawl. "Aaawwwh! Wha's that for? Why'd ya go an' try to clobber me with a freakin' tennis…"
Ando waited just long enough for Iwasa's whine to start, and then rode right over him, picking up where he had left off. "Now that I think about it, some of you had better NOT act like you did at Tokai and Gifu. If I hear one more person tell me that a player started snoring in the middle of the opening speeches, or kicking the ankles of other players…."
Iwasa called back, his voice indignant. "I asked ya before, how'd'ya think a guy's supposed ta fall asleep, standin' up in the middle o' his team. I ain't been snorin' thru these stupid speeches, no matter how frickin' borin' they are. A guy just don't fall asleep like that. Now will ya please git offa my case?" He folded his arms across his chest and gave a very self-satisfied nod.
Next to Iwasa, Kurari piped up in his too-high voice. "I don't know how you can fall asleep standing up either, Shouta. But I know you can. There ain't no other way to explain that last match we played at Tokai. Crap, I don't think I've seen anyone miss that many shots since… Since you, in the Gifu finals." And then to Ando-sensei, "Can we just drop Shouta off the roster, Sensei? Let me cover the whole doubles court? I'll bet we do better."
There were chuckles from most of the other Hida players. Iwasa himself, however, chose to respond by driving his fist into Kurari's shoulder. The punch seemed to be playful, but Daisaku thought it looked like it genuinely hurt as well.
Ando-sensei spoke again, bringing the team back to silence. "Anyway! We're going to head over to Court One now and take our places. Unless anyone has any questions before we go?"
Seiichi's hand flew up so fast that Daisaku heard a whistle of rushing air. He turned and stared at his friend with some apprehension. Seiichi seemed a little too excited; his legs twitched slightly as if only sheer willpower was keeping him from bouncing up and down on his toes.
Ando regarded Seiichi with the same wariness Daisaku was feeling. "Yes, what is it Kamishimizu?"
A grin split Seiichi's face in two and he actually did begin bouncing as he asked his question. "Did you see that other team, Ando-sensei? That was Fudomine! They looked really strong. I want to play them!"
Ando's eyes narrowed. He swept his gaze over the rest of the team, studiously ignoring Seiichi now. "Okay then, since there aren't any questions, let's get moving! Iwasa, Kawakami, stack our supply boxes by the stairs here. We'll pick them up on the way back to the hotel this afternoon. They should be fine in the interim." The Doubles Two pair, Shouta and Kurari, complied with Ando-sensei's request, albeit sullenly. "Now, everybody follow me!" Spinning with military precision, Ando led the Hida players up the stairs and back to the network of paths snaking through the Arena Tennis complex.
Daisaku followed a couple meters back, walking behind Hirohito Ito, Hida's team captain. Hirohito was talking in a low voice with Kazuki Sunama, who seemed to be scanning a small, blue notebook as he conversed with Hirohito. Daisaku found his attention suddenly focusing on the notebook.
It was the same one Sunama had been looking through when Daisaku had come to fetch Seiichi the afternoon before. Daisaku was sure of it. Sunama had been carrying that notebook everywhere since arriving in Tokyo. More and more, Daisaku wondered what might be in it. Yesterday, he had been sure it was just tennis data, but Sunama seemed especially attached to this notebook. Could it be something personal, maybe? Daisaku sped up his pace slightly, hoping to get a closer look over Sunama's shoulder.
Trying his best to be unobtrusive, Daisaku edged closer to Hirohito and Sunama. He could just see the corner of the blue notebook. It seemed to have some sort of pattern sketched on it, but Daisaku couldn't tell if it was a drawing, a graph, or just Sunama's own small, precise penmanship. Just a little closer and he would be able to make it out.
And then, before Daisaku could blink, Sunama flipped the notebook shut and stowed it in a pocket on his racket case. Sunama didn't seem hurried, but he moved with such practiced efficiency that Daisaku never managed to see more than that one little corner of the page. Now that notebook was going to bother him all day. What did Sunama keep reading?
The tree-lined paths of the Arena Tennis Complex wound gradually to the south, until a view opened ahead, revealing a grid of genuine stadium-style courts. And in the center stood a tall, half-roofed structure: Court One. It dominated Daisaku's vision, and his attention, as soon as it came into view. That was where the key matches of the tournament would be held. Hida wouldn't be playing there, not unless they made it to at least the third round, but even so it inspired a measure of anxiety in Daisaku. He had played at Tokai, and played well enough, winning more than half of his matches. But the crowd there had been smaller, and the courts hadn't been half as public as even the peripheral stadium courts here. Court One, though, looked big enough to seat every player in this tournament, with plenty of room to spare. Which, come to think of it, was probably what would happen. No one would want to miss watching the final matches of the tournament tomorrow. Certainly, whether they won or lost, no one in the Hida team would consider going home without watching the tournament play out to its conclusion.
Still, the thought of playing under all those watching eyes….
Daisaku was still brooding as the Hida players filed into the towering stadium. Ando-sensei led them briskly past the ramps leading to spectator seating, until he found the path to the court proper. The Hida team filed behind him, and came to a stop as he did, just short of the exit onto the court.
Ando-sensei made a quick glance at his watch, and then addressed the players in a decisive voice, but one meant not to carry into the stadium. "All right, eight fifty-five. Line yourselves up and get out there. Remember! We're here to hit. Don't worry about the crowd, don't worry about the other teams. Keep your head focused on that."
As Ando was talking, the team began to reorganize itself, forming up according to class and roster. The upperclassmen all came first: Hirohito and Tetsuya, as captain and vice-captain, took the lead, with Shouta behind them, slouching as ever. After him, Seiichi and Sunama as Singles One and Two. Daisaku fell in behind Sunama, and Kurari took position behind him, at the end of the line.
"We're here to hit, we're here for tennis. The rest doesn't matter. Remember that and you'll be fine." Ando-sensei slapped Hirohito on the back, and Hida's captain began a slow, steady march onto the court. Many of the teams were already arrayed out there, though not all of them, Daisaku could see. There were gaps among the lines of players. Tetsuya followed behind Hirohito, who seemed very sure of his destination, a space near the front beside a team in white and blue uniforms. Shouta began trailing Tetsuya, still in his usual slouch, but Ando-sensei gave him a swift kick to the shins and barked, "No snoring, either, Iwasa!" Shouta shot the club advisor a murderous look, but even he seemed to feel the gravity of the situation; Shouta squared his shoulders and stood up straighter, which gave him surprising height, almost on par with Seiichi and Daisaku.
Daisaku swallowed, which took some effort, and found that he was now at the front himself, with Sunama already in a stately march ahead of him. At his ear, Daisaku suddenly heard Ando-sensei's voice, calm, quiet, and unhurried. "Don't worry, Yamaguchi. You'll do fine. For now, just watch. And listen." With that, Ando slapped him across the shoulders, and Daisaku lurched out onto the court, doing his best to mirror Sunama's gait.
The queue came to a halt just right of center, facing some scaffolding erected solely for the opening addresses. Daisaku could feel his heart beginning to beat faster, but some of the other teams were still filing out into the court, so he let his eyelids fall closed and took the chance to steady his breathing and focus his energy under his diaphragm. Gradually, he felt his pulse come back under control. When Daisaku reopened his eyes, a gray-haired man in a black suit was ascending to the podium to address the now-assembled teams.
The man approached the podium's microphone and then intoned, "The 34th Annual All-Japan Junior High Tennis Tournament is officially open." All of the assembled players, as well as the man on the podium, bowed formally. The gray-haired man stepped back, turned, and left the stage even as another man, younger, was approaching the podium. Through the stadium's audio system, a feminine voice announced the current speaker as the director of the Japanese National Junior High Tennis League. The players bowed again, and as they straightened, the speaker launched into a formal address. Daisaku quickly put the speaker out of mind. He'd heard much the same speech at the Tokai tournament, and at the Gifu prefectural tournament before that. It was little more than a formal pep rally speech, "do your best" dressed up in more flowery language. Thankfully, it was over soon enough, and the teams were dismissed to prepare for their respective matches.
As the assembly broke up, the Hida team turned as one to go back the way they had came, only to see Ando-sensei standing a little ways off from the exit, on the sidelines of the court. He waved them over and, instinctively, the whole team broke into a jog to reach him. Daisaku's hamstrings protested, still burning from his practice with Kurari, but he shoved the pain to the back of his mind and stayed in step with the others. Daisaku stopped with the rest of the team, arrayed in a semi-circle around the coach. Hirohito barked out a short command, and everyone gave a quick bow to Ando-sensei.
Ando flipped open a spiral notebook and ran his finger down one of the pages, as if searching for some particular information. His finger stopped, and his head snapped up to regard the team. "Okay, first round matches start in fifteen minutes. That's not a lot of time, so let's review the schedule fast. First: Hirohito, Tetsuya. Who are you watching in the first round?"
Daisaku's attention turned to the team captain and vice-captain. Tetsuya, usually so quick to respond, wore a dark expression and stood a couple steps back from his brother. Hirohito answered quickly, though. "Osaka Tennoji and Rokkaku."
"Right," returned Ando, "And we play the winner of that match, so make sure you keep a good eye on their play styles. Tennoji and Rokkaku will be on court seven. That's where we'll be playing too, next round. So everyone, when the matches you're watching finish, go to court seven! Let Hirohito know what happened. Now, you two, get over there and watch!" Ando-sensei stabbed a finger at the opening the team had entered through, and the Ito twins jumped into a fast jog, heading for the Tennoji / Rokkaku match. "Next: Iwasa and Kawakami!"
Shouta Iwasa seemed oddly energized for once, as if the impending tournament had fanned some spark of life to new flame. He stepped forward, surprisingly, and his usual slouch was hardly noticeable. "We've got Miyake 'n Doshisha, sensei. Don' worry. We'll make sure they ain't got no s'prises fer us."
Shouta shot the club advisor a grin that looked both insolent and predatory, and Ando-sensei, surprisingly, grinned back. "Glad to hear it, Iwasa. You and Kawakami will be on court four. That's just north of here. Now get over there! Next: Kamishimizu and Yamaguchi!"
Even as Seiichi was stepping forward to answer, the Doubles Two pair darted off, Kurari squeaking inquisitively at Shouta. Shouta's response was to slug Kurari in the shoulder again, prompting a yelp, although neither player's steps slowed until they were out of sight. Meanwhile, Seiichi was giving a crisp response to Ando-sensei. "We have Nagoya AIT versus Hyotei, Ando-sensei."
Ando nodded. "Court eight. I don't expect the match will last all that long, but see what you can learn. We'll be playing AIT again in the second round, and they were our hardest opponents at Tokai. I don't want to go home after losing to a team we already beat. Now move it!"
Daisaku and Seiichi gave quick bows and started off at a run for the court's exit, leaving Ando-sensei and Sunama talking together. Daisaku's legs still felt like lead, but he thought maybe the pain was starting to fade a little. Maybe. But there was still plenty of time before the second round, time for him to rest.
Off the court, the concrete hallways of the stadium seemed more crowded than they had just a few minutes ago, when the Hida team filed in. Still, in a short time Daisaku and Seiichi had wound their way out into the open air. Daisaku spotted a signboard telling the locations of the courts and jogged over, Seiichi right on his heels. Skidding to a stop in front of the board, Daisaku began a focused search for court eight.
Seiichi's voice was sharp, cutting through Daisaku's concentration. "I don't think this match is going to be as simple as Ando-sensei says. Sunama talked to me yesterday, when we were going up to our hotel room. He told me a bit more about Hyotei." Surprise must have etched Daisaku's face at the prospect of Sunama volunteering information. Seiichi paused a moment for the words to register with Daisaku, and then continued. "They lost in the first round of the Kanto tournament, but they lost to the champions, Seigaku. And the match went six sets; I looked into it a little myself last night. AIT was strong, but this Hyotei might be a match for them, whatever Ando-sensei says. I know Sunama thinks they might win."
That was enough for Daisaku. Sunama was rarely, if ever, wrong about these things, and the Hida team had learned to pay close attention to anything he had to say. "Okay then, Seiichi. We'll stake 'em both out." Returning his attention to the map board, Daisaku traced his finger along until he found the eighth court, and then nodded to himself. "First things first, though. We need to get over to Eight if we're gonna watch, and Eight is clear over there." With a throwing motion, Daisaku indicated a place on the far side of the Court One stadium.
Seiichi simply nodded his head and broke into a jog around the south side of the stadium. Daisaku didn't hesitate, jumping into motion himself and jogging beside his friend. Still, it took nearly five minutes to get to court eight, and another five to push through the crowds and find a place to sit and observe the match. By the time Daisaku eased himself onto the bench, glad to relax his legs again, the AIT players and their Hyotei counterparts were already filing out onto the court.
Nagoya AIT was dressed in the forest green jerseys Daisaku remembered from the Tokai tournament. He recognized most of the players in the AIT line, though one or two faces might have been new since Tokai. AIT had a deep roster, and some of the players who lost at the regional tournament might have been replaced by other players of a similar level. A tall, long-haired player on the end of the line nearest Daisaku, however, was very familiar. Yuutaro Kusamaru had been Daisaku's opponent at Tokai, probably the strongest opponent Daisaku had ever played, excepting members of his own Hida team.
The match against Kusamaru at Tokai had been grueling. Daisaku had been lucky; his service game had been very clean and, despite having to make a tough fight of it a couple times, he had managed to avoid giving Kusamaru a single break point opportunity. Daisaku himself had been pressed just as hard by the other player's serve. He had only seen one break chance in the entire set, late in the tenth game. He had managed to convert it, to everyone's surprise, including his own. That break had been enough to win Daisaku the set, and in the end, to give Hida the Tokai championship. If AIT had kept their roster in roughly the same order, Kusamaru would probably be playing the first set, as the Nagoya Singles Three.
The two teams, now lined up, greeted each other and bowed. Six of the seven players on each team filed off the court and took up places to watch the match. As expected, Kusamaru turned instead toward the play bench and retrieved his racket from a black tennis bag. Opposite him, the Hyotei player did the same. Hyotei's singles three was dressed in the same blue-sleeved white jersey as the rest of his team, with a blue baseball cap turned backwards and covering very short black hair. Hyotei fished a Yonex racquet from his bag and came back to meet his opponent at the net.
Kusamaru rested his racquet head on the ground. "Which," he asked, already spinning the racquet and letting it drop.
"Smooth," called Hyotei's blue-cap, balancing his racket so it stood on the tip of his index finger.
Kusamaru's racquet clattered to the ground, and he bent to pick it up. "Oh, too bad. Looks like its rough. I'll serve first." Kusamaru shot a smile at the chair judge and scooped up his racquet. He turned his smile, now a bit more toothy, toward the Hyotei player, but blue-cap was already striding to the back-court to take his position. Slightly deflated, Kusamaru turned and walked back to his own service line.
As Kusamaru reached his line and turned, the voice of the chair judge rang out across the stadium. "Aichi Institute of Technology Daifuzoku versus Hyotei Gakuen. The best of one set match. Nagoya AIT to serve!" A hush fell over the crowd at the judge's words, and every eye turned to Kusamaru. The AIT player tossed the ball high overhead and bent back, following its trajectory with his eyes. Then, uncoiling like a spring, he snapped erect and cracked his racket in a downward arc. The ball shot across the net and into Hyotei's service court. Blue-cap stood poised on his toes, his racket centered. He watched as the ball zoomed toward the outside corner of the court, and lunged after it, stretching his racket in front of him. But not fast enough. Kusamaru's serve rebounded off the hard surface of the court and bounced away before Hyotei could get under it. "Fifteen, love."
Daisaku didn't blink. He still remembered facing Kusamaru's serve. Tokai had only been a few months ago. The AIT player had a stunning arm, and it had taken Daisaku almost two full games to master getting under those serves well enough to return them with any degree of accuracy. That the Hyotei player fared no better didn't surprise him at all.
Hyotei himself seemed unfazed. He shrugged his racket up to his shoulder, turned, and strode toward the opposite side of his court without even pausing to look at where the ball had gone. When he had reached the other side, blue-cap squared his stance again and stared across the net at Kusamaru.
Again, Kusamaru tossed a ball in the air. It flew straight up and hung for a moment, suspended, until the AIT player's racket careened into it. The ball flew, pointed this time at the center line. But as it crossed the net, Daisaku could hear a faint popping noise, and the ball's trajectory shifted. It hit nearer the center of the service court, and flew past the Hyotei player's head. Again, the voice of the chair judge boomed over the crowd. "Let. First serve, again."
Undeterred, Kusamaru lobbed another ball into the air and came crashing down on it with all the force he could muster. The serve looked faster than anything Daisaku had faced at Tokai. Kusamaru must have used the intervening months to work on training his speed. The ball crossed the net, with centimeters to spare this time, and came down just where the last one should have, at the middle corner of the service court. It was a beautiful serve. Even Seiichi must be impressed by that. Daisaku turned his eyes toward the chair judge, waiting for the call.
He wasn't disappointed. The judge's voice rang out only a moment later.
"Fifteen all."
Daisaku's breath caught, and he turned back to the courts. Kusamaru was standing just where Daisaku had last seen him, but Hyotei was in the middle of the backcourt, his legs stretched in a lunge and his racket pointing straight at the AIT player. Daisaku thought he could just make out a smile creasing blue-cap's lips, the first expression he'd seen on the Hyotei player. Blue-cap's voice called out in the quiet after the call. "Next."
A hush had come over the crowd. As Hyotei moved to receive again, Daisaku heard the watching AIT players begin to whisper incredulously to one another. Kusamaru himself seemed to regard the return ace as an aberration, and tossed another ball into the air as soon as blue-cap was in position. This serve was aimed for the center of the service court, probably to give Kusamaru more leeway in case power cost him some accuracy. The ball flew a bit to Hyotei's right, putting it close to the outside edge of the court. Daisaku focused his eyes on the Hyotei player. He was in motion the moment the ball left Kusamaru's racket, moving up to a position just past the point where the ball would bound up. So it would be a rising shot. Daisaku nodded to himself unconsciously. His suspicion was confirmed as blue-cap swung his racket in an upward arc, starting from the level of his calf. The racket connected just as it came parallel to Hyotei's body, and the ball, now loaded with topspin, flashed back across the net. This time, Kusamaru was watching for it, but Hyotei's return came back almost as fast as the original serve, and even as the AIT player stretched to intercept the ball, it sped past him. "Fifteen, thirty."
Kusamaru was moving stiffly now. He lobbed a ball and reached back, mustering all the force he could. His racket slammed home, and the ball sped like it had been shot from a cannon. It cleared the net, bounced, and… again, flew by the Hyotei player, who was standing rooted to the spot. There was some brief commotion near the chair, and then the judge's voice called out, "Fault." Blue-cap nodded slightly, as if confirming the call to himself. The serve must have hit long, but not by much. Daisaku hadn't been able to see the error from where he sat.
A low growl emerged from Kusamaru's throat as he tossed his second serve into the air. Again, he tried to bring as much force down behind the ball as he could, and again, the ball leapt away with phenomenal speed. This time, Hyotei was moving, advancing to near the edge of the service court, preparing to catch the ball just after it bounced. But at the net, the ball struck the tape with a loud thwack and bounced ponderously to the ground. "Double fault. Fifteen, fourty."
Silence, now, from everyone including the AIT players. Hyotei's footsteps were audible as he paced back to the other side of the court and, once again, took up position to receive Kusamaru's serve. Without hesitating, Kusamaru let fly. He wasn't trying for his fastest, this time. He aimed for the outside corner again, the one that had netted him that first service ace. But blue-cap stepped up, as before, and sent the ball back cross-court. This seemed to be what Kusamaru had expected. The AIT player was already in motion, rushing toward the center-line to intercept the shot. He caught it and spun it back toward the middle of Hyotei's backcourt. Blue-cap had to dash to reach it in time, and caught the ball with a desperate lunge, but catch it he did.
The ball flew up in a long arc toward Kusamaru's baseline. With his eyes trained overhead, the AIT player paced backwards, tracing the ball, his racquet poised behind his back, ready to deliver a smash. Just as the ball came to about serve height, Kusamaru's arm slammed forward. The ball zoomed back across, to the same spot where Kusamaru's serve had just struck, on the outside corner of the service court.
But blue-cap seemed to be a step ahead. As Kusamaru's eyes descended, along with his racquet, they fell on the Hyotei player standing balanced to return the smash. The ball came toward blue-cap, and now Daisaku was sure he could see a smile on his face. Again, the same rising shot motion, and the ball went back across the net with all the speed of Kusamaru's smash. It bounced centimeters from the toe of Kusamaru's right shoe and crashed into the wall behind him.
There was half-second pause as the chair judge gathered his breath, in which not a sound could be heard from the crowd. Then, "Game, Ryou Shishido. One game to zero, Hyotei lead."
A droning filled the stadium, like a hundred bees all buzzing in unison, in some minor key. "Hyo-tei! Hyo-tei! Hyo-tei! Hyo-tei!"
Suddenly, Daisaku wondered just how wrong Ando-sensei might have been.
