What?!
Both Marui and Ōtsuka stared at Tokugawa in shock. Neither had expected that the leader of Court 1 would challenge Ishikawa the night before the ranking matches.
Weren't they both part of the second string? Shouldn't they be allies?
"No problem."
Yet, to everyone's surprise, Ishikawa accepted the challenge without hesitation.
Others might not understand, but Ishikawa knew—Tokugawa's goal was never the badge or a spot among the top players. His target had always been Byōdōin.
After witnessing Ishikawa defeat Oni, Tokugawa feared that Ishikawa might also defeat Byōdōin. If that happened, all his training over the past year would become a joke.
So, he had to play this match—regardless of the outcome!
"Hey..."
Marui, standing nearby, spoke up. Seeing that the two were serious about the match, he volunteered, "If you're really going through with this, I'll be the referee!"
"Sure, thanks."
Ishikawa smiled, and Tokugawa nodded in agreement.
"Damn, too slow!"
Ōtsuka inwardly cursed. Being the referee would have given him the best vantage point to analyze their techniques and strategies. But Marui had beaten him to it.
With a sigh, he stepped back to the sidelines.
Meanwhile, Ishikawa and Tokugawa took their positions at the baseline. Since this was an unofficial match, they skipped the usual coin toss for serve.
"Senior," Ishikawa said, "this is Court 3, so you should serve first."
"Fine."
Tokugawa didn't argue. At their level, who served first hardly mattered.
Tap… Tap… Tap…
He pulled a tennis ball from his pocket, bouncing it a few times before tossing it high into the air.
With a sharp flick of his wrist, he struck the ball with precision.
"Game start, first to six!" Marui announced from the umpire's chair. "Tokugawa to serve!"
Whoosh!
The ball shot forward at blistering speed—then, mid-flight, it vanished.
"What?!"
Marui and Ōtsuka stiffened in disbelief. The ball had disappeared mid-trajectory, leaving no trace of its path.
"Starting off serious, huh?" Ōtsuka muttered, his expression darkening.
Thwack!
But then—a crisp return.
Ishikawa had intercepted the invisible serve with ease, his racket barely twitching as he sent the ball rocketing back toward Tokugawa's backhand corner.
"That control…" Tokugawa's eyes narrowed.
Watching from the sidelines was one thing, but facing Ishikawa directly was entirely different. His serve had been fast—fast enough that Tokugawa had half-expected Ishikawa to misjudge it and lose the point.
But reality proved him wrong.
Thud!
Tokugawa reacted instantly, darting to the side and slamming a return toward Ishikawa's own backhand.
"An eye for an eye?" Ōtsuka mused.
The captain of Court 1 was nothing if not direct. There would be no warm-up—this match was going straight into high gear.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The rallies grew faster, the exchanges more intense. Soon, the ball was moving too quickly for Ōtsuka's eyes to track. He blinked—and when he opened them again, he could no longer see the ball at all.
"Impossible!" His heart pounded.
Even in the dimming light, his vision had always been sharp. Yet now, all he could perceive were their swinging rackets and the echoing thwacks of impact.
Crack!
Tokugawa's next strike carried even greater force, the ball kicking up a storm of dust as it landed, obscuring Ishikawa's figure.
"Tch."
Marui wiped sweat from his brow. For a moment, he regretted volunteering as referee.
But the thought passed quickly. His eyes locked onto the swirling dust clouds—proof of the sheer power behind their shots.
"So this is what happens when high-level tennis pushes beyond normal limits…"
Marui had long surpassed national-level play, reaching the realm of elite high schoolers. But he still lacked direction. Maybe this match would show him the way forward.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
On the court, Tokugawa gritted his teeth. Each return from Ishikawa felt heavier than the last. Even his grip, hardened by years of training, was starting to ache.
"His strength is unreal…"
Watching Ishikawa battle Oni had been one thing. Facing him was another.
Tokugawa switched tactics, unleashing a barrage of spins, slices, and power shots—anything to break Ishikawa's defense.
Yet no matter what he tried, Ishikawa returned everything flawlessly.
Crack!
A sudden misstep—and Ishikawa's return landed squarely on the baseline before ricocheting off the wall.
"0-15!" Marui called.
Tokugawa's expression tightened.
Ōtsuka sighed. Losing the first point on his own serve was a bad sign. The gap between them was already clear—and if Tokugawa couldn't even hold serve, this match would be over before it began.
But Tokugawa remained composed. Unlike others, his skills were perfectly balanced. If technique and strength failed him, he'd rely on stamina and sheer will.
Boom!
Another serve. Another rapid-fire exchange.
"Nothing's working…"
No matter how Tokugawa varied his shots, Ishikawa countered them all. Worse, the numbness in his hand was returning.
"I can't keep this up."
He had to escalate—now.
Thwack!
But the moment his racket connected with the next ball, Tokugawa froze.
"This feeling… Huh?!"
His grip felt… empty.
He glanced at his left hand, a chilling realization dawning.
"My… my sense of touch is gone?!"
The impact of the ball—the vibrations, the pressure—none of it registered.
Crack!
Ishikawa's return shot past him, landing cleanly.
"0-30!" Marui announced.
Tokugawa's face paled.
Marui and Ōtsuka exchanged glances. The usually unshakable Tokugawa looked… rattled.
"His ability… is this part of it?" Tokugawa's voice was barely a whisper.
Touch—one of a player's most critical senses. Losing it mid-match was catastrophic.
And if Ishikawa could strip that away…
"Again!" Tokugawa snarled, hurling another serve with reckless fury.
His calm had shattered. Now, he swung with desperate, wild strikes—each one carrying enough force to make Marui and Ōtsuka flinch.
Yet Ishikawa returned them all effortlessly, as if swatting away flies.
Swish!
Then—darkness.
Tokugawa's vision blurred, the edges shrinking inward until everything went black.
"My… sight?!"
He stood frozen, the world around him swallowed by shadows.
Thump.
Ishikawa's next return hit the court—Tokugawa didn't need to see it to know it had landed perfectly.
"Not just touch… Now my vision too?"
A strange calm washed over him. Without sight, his focus sharpened. He could still rely on sound, on instinct—
Silence.
All at once, the world went mute.
No ball bounce. No wind. No voices.
Just… nothing.
Tokugawa's breath hitched.
He was alone.
Trapped in a void where nothing existed.