When Tezuka stepped through the Gate of All Worlds and back onto the Bamboo Staff, he was surprised to find the ship bustling with far more activity than during his previous visit. The familiar voices of the Kasukabe Defense Force echoed across the deck, and it appeared they had encountered some new playmates during his absence.
Shin-chan and his friends had indeed crossed paths with Conan and Ai, who had returned for another visit. The moment Conan first laid eyes on the energetic kindergartener with the distinctive potato-shaped head, he felt an inexplicable chill run down his spine—as if he'd encountered a natural enemy.
Shin-chan, however, had an entirely different reaction. Looking at this boy who appeared slightly older than himself but carried himself with obvious intelligence and composure, he was immediately reminded of his frequent target back home.
"You know, Conan," Shin-chan said with his characteristic mischievous grin, "you remind me a lot of my friend Kazama. You both have that same stuffy, know-it-all attitude."
"Stuffy?" Conan bristled slightly at the comparison. "I'll have you know that intelligence and proper behavior are admirable qualities."
"See? Just like Kazama!" Shin-chan laughed delightedly.
After the initial introductions were completed, Shin-chan decided to test his hypothesis using the same tactics that had proven so effective against his kindergarten rival. While Conan was distracted, examining some of the ship's more interesting technical features, Shin-chan crept up silently behind him.
"Fuu... fuu..." He blew gently into Conan's ear.
"WHAT?!" Conan jolted as if he'd been electrocuted, his entire body going rigid before he stumbled forward. Starting from his ears and spreading across his entire face, a bright red flush bloomed like spilled paint. His usual composure completely shattered.
"What do you think you're doing?!" he demanded, spinning around to glare at the grinning kindergartener.
"Hehehe, just as I thought!" Shin-chan twisted his hips in his signature victory dance. "You really are exactly like Kazama!"
Upon hearing this comparison, both Conan and Kazama—who had been watching the entire exchange with horror—looked at each other with mutual recognition. There was indeed something similar in their personalities, though both were far too proud to admit such a thing aloud.
Despite this rocky beginning, the expanded group of children soon found themselves getting along remarkably well. It was then that Nene, who had been observing the social dynamics with the calculating eye of a future soap opera director, made her fateful suggestion.
"Now that we're all friends," she announced with barely contained excitement, "let's play super realistic house!"
"Super realistic house?" Conan and Ai exchanged curious glances. They were familiar with the concept of playing house, but this variation sounded intriguingly different—and potentially more sophisticated than typical children's games.
Their curiosity was not shared by the Kasukabe Defense Force veterans. The moment those words left Nene's lips, Shin-chan, Kazama, Masao, and Bo-chan all visibly shuddered, their faces draining of color as traumatic memories surfaced.
"Oh, Shin-chan, Kazama, Masao, Bo-chan," Nene's voice took on a dangerously sweet tone as she noticed their attempts to edge toward the stairs. "You wouldn't want to disappoint our new friends by refusing to play super realistic house, would you?"
The temperature around them seemed to drop several degrees. Her voice carried undertones that would have made ancient demons proud, and the four boys froze in place like rabbits confronted by a particularly cunning predator.
"Of course not, Nene!" Kazama managed with a strained smile, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "It's just that, well, Conan and Ai are new to our group. Perhaps we should start with something simpler?"
"Nonsense!" Nene clapped her hands together with enthusiasm. "Playing super realistic house is the perfect way to build deeper friendships quickly! I've actually been developing a new scenario that would be perfect for today!"
Before anyone could object further, she had already begun assigning roles with the efficiency of a professional casting director.
"I'll play the role of a hardworking and devoted housewife," she announced, her eyes gleaming with creative fervor. "Kazama, you'll be my husband—a successful senior executive at a prestigious company who works long hours to provide for our family."
Kazama's face went through several distinct color changes as he processed this assignment.
"Masao," she continued relentlessly, "you'll play my childhood friend who has harbored secret romantic feelings for me throughout the years. You love me deeply but can never confess because you want me to be happy, so you suffer in noble silence."
Masao's rice ball-shaped head seemed to deflate as he contemplated this tragic role.
"Bo-chan, you'll be mine and Kazama's precocious child who somehow understands more about adult relationships than he should."
Bo-chan simply sniffled and nodded with his characteristic stoicism.
"Shin-chan," Nene's smile turned particularly wicked, "you'll play our family pet—a mischievous but lovable dog."
"Why do I always have to be the pet?!" Shin-chan protested, though they all knew resistance was futile.
"Now for our new friends," Nene turned to Conan and Ai with the enthusiasm of a director who had just discovered perfect casting. "Conan, you'll play my husband's colleague—a charming younger man who falls hopelessly in love with me at first sight when you escort my drunk husband home after a company party. Your unrequited passion becomes a constant source of tension in our household."
Conan's mouth fell open as he processed this assignment. "Wait, I'm supposed to be in love with—"
"And Ai," Nene steamrolled over his objection, "you'll play my best friend since childhood. On the surface, we seem to have a wonderful relationship, but secretly you've always been jealous of my happiness. You're plotting to steal my husband away from me through subtle manipulation and feminine wiles."
Ai blinked slowly, her analytical mind struggling to process how a five-year-old had concocted such a byzantine relationship drama.
"The basic plot," Nene continued with obvious relish, "involves the gradual revelation of everyone's hidden feelings and secret agendas. There will be misunderstandings, confrontations, tearful confessions, and ultimately, heartbreak and redemption!"
"How does a kindergartener even know about these concepts?" Conan whispered to Ai, who could only shake her head in bewilderment.
But before either of them could voice further objections, Nene had already launched into the opening scene, and somehow—through a combination of her magnetic personality and the group's inability to resist her dramatic vision—everyone found themselves swept into their assigned roles.
Gustave had been standing on the deck's edge, arms crossed and wearing an expression of pure entertainment as he watched Nene's theatrical production unfold. The complexity of the relationships and the complete seriousness with which the children threw themselves into their adult roles was both hilarious and oddly impressive.
It was during this performance that Tezuka emerged from the stairwell, drawn by the sound of animated voices and dramatic proclamations. Seeing Gustave absorbed in the spectacle, he decided not to interrupt and instead positioned himself where he could observe both the performance and Gustave's reaction to it.
At first, Tezuka assumed he was watching a relatively normal children's game. However, as the plot progressed and he began to grasp the intricate web of romantic tensions, secret attractions, and emotional betrayals being portrayed by elementary school children, his analytical mind struggled to process what he was witnessing.
"My darling husband," Nene was saying in an exaggeratedly mature voice, "you've been working such long hours lately. I worry that you're not getting enough rest."
"The company demands dedication," Kazama replied stiffly, clearly uncomfortable with the domestic intimacy but committed to his role. "I must provide for our family's future."
Meanwhile, Masao lurked in the background, occasionally sighing wistfully while gazing at Nene with theatrical longing. Conan, despite his obvious discomfort, had somehow been convinced to portray his character's growing infatuation with subtle glances and awkward attempts at conversation.
The most disturbing element for Tezuka was watching Ai seamlessly slip into the role of a manipulative friend, her naturally analytical nature lending an unsettling authenticity to the performance of subtle social undermining.
"How can children this young conceive such complex relationship dynamics?" Tezuka found himself wondering, his academically-trained mind boggling at the psychological sophistication on display.
When the performance reached its climactic confrontation scene—involving accusations of betrayal, declarations of forbidden love, and what appeared to be a dramatic fainting spell from Nene—Gustave could no longer contain his amusement. He turned away from the group, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.
"Oh, Tezuka!" he managed when he spotted the tennis captain standing nearby. "I didn't notice you arrive!"
"I didn't want to interrupt the... performance," Tezuka replied carefully, still processing what he'd witnessed.
"Quite something, isn't it?" Gustave grinned, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "Nene's super realistic house playing is legendary around here. She puts soap opera writers to shame."
"I had expected you would bring your teammates," Gustave continued, his expression shifting to more serious concern. "It's been over a week since your first visit. Where are the others?"
"I encountered some complications when I returned to my world," Tezuka replied, his voice carrying the weight of recent events.
Over the next several minutes, he recounted the entire story—Takei's deliberate assault, Coach Ryuzaki's inadequate response, his teammates' principled resignation from Seigaku, and their collective transfer to Yamabuki Junior High School.
"You all transferred to Yamabuki?" Gustave's eyebrows rose with genuine surprise. This was definitely not how he remembered the Prince of Tennis storyline developing.
"Yes," Tezuka confirmed with a slight nod. "Coach Banji proved to be everything that Coach Ryuzaki was not—supportive, strategic, and genuinely committed to developing his players' potential. When he repeatedly invited us to join his program, we unanimously agreed."
"That's quite a development," Gustave mused, already considering the implications for the tennis world's competitive balance.
"There's something else," Tezuka said, lifting his bandaged left hand slightly. "Would it be possible for Tom to examine my injury? I'm prepared to pay whatever fee he considers appropriate."
"Of course! That shouldn't be a problem at all," Gustave replied immediately. "As for payment, that's between you and Tom—he sets his own rates for medical consultations. But I have a feeling he'll be very reasonable."
"Thank you. However, that's not my only request today."
"Oh? What else can we help you with?"
Tezuka took a deep breath before continuing. "In addition to bringing my five Seigaku teammates as originally planned, I was hoping to ask permission for four of our new Yamabuki teammates to join us as well—Coach Banji, Sengoku, Higashikata, and Minami."
Gustave paused, considering the request carefully. As someone familiar with the Prince of Tennis world, he knew that its characters were generally good people with strong moral foundations. Moreover, if Tezuka and his friends were going to compete as part of Yamabuki, having their full team train together would make for a much more interesting dynamic—potentially even allowing them to challenge the dominance of defending champion Rikkaidai University.
The prospect of witnessing a clash between two perfectly balanced super-teams was genuinely exciting.
"The four additional people wouldn't be a problem," Gustave said slowly. "After many guest that came, I got information that you can bring more people, expanding Gate permissions beyond the standard five but it requires approval from both Po and Tom. Let me discuss it with them."
"I understand completely, and I'm grateful for your consideration."
"Don't mention it. Why don't we go find Tom right now? We can take care of your hand examination and get his input on the expanded group at the same time."
They found Tom in his favorite afternoon napping spot, curled up in a patch of sunlight streaming through one of the ship's large windows. Gustave gently woke him and explained the situation.
Tom examined Tezuka's injury with surprising thoroughness, his cartoon anatomy somehow not preventing him from demonstrating genuine medical expertise. After a careful inspection involving gentle manipulation of the hand and assessment of Tezuka's range of motion, he gave a confident thumbs up.
"This injury is well within my capabilities to treat," Tom said using rarely heard deep voice. "The damage is primarily to soft tissue and minor bone displacement—nothing that proper technique can't address."
"What would you require as payment?" Tezuka asked formally.
Tom's eyes lit up as he held up two fingers, then proceeded to mime eating with obvious enthusiasm.
"Cheese and ham," Gustave translated with amusement. "Those are Tom's favorite foods. Bring him a nice piece of each, and he'll be delighted to help you."
Regarding the expanded guest permissions, both Po (after being roused from his own afternoon rest) and Tom readily agreed. If Gustave believed the additional people would contribute positively to the training environment, they were happy to accommodate the request.
"Excellent," Tezuka said with obvious relief. "Then I'll return to my world immediately—first to acquire Tom's payment, and second to bring everyone here to meet you."
So, with arrangements finalized and medical treatment scheduled, Tezuka prepared to return to the Prince of Tennis world to gather both his promised payment and his expanding team of training partners.
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