Reality proved one thing—
Oni Juujirou had indeed been gaslit.
Before approaching Oni, Mifune Inshou had already considered recruiting Yoru—after all, this was the guy who shut out Byoudouin without dropping a single game.
But when he learned about Oni's connection to Yoru, he decided to use that as leverage.
If he could get Oni on board, maybe Yoru would follow.
However, after receiving a flat-out refusal, Mifune dropped the idea. He wasn't the type to obsess over a single player.
For Yoru, Oni joining U17 was actually good news.
U17's systematic training would unlock Oni's physical potential and push his strength to new heights.
Right now, Yoru relied heavily on Oni's feedback loop to maximize his own five-dimensional stats.
And for the foreseeable future, Oni's growth would remain crucial.
Sure, QP's stats would eventually surpass Oni's—but that wouldn't happen until high school, when QP reached his final form.
---
Two days later.
9:00 AM.
Shimori Sports Park.
The new National Tournament season had officially begun.
First stop: District Preliminaries.
At the park entrance, a middle-aged man with a camera slung around his neck was already snapping photos of every team stepping off their buses.
Inui Mamoru.
In the world of Prince of Tennis, he was second only to Horio-sama in terms of sheer hype-man energy.
He'd arrived early not just to document the schools, but to get closer to Seigaku.
Just as he was getting into the groove, a group of middle schoolers nearby started complaining.
"Ugh, being in the same bracket as Seigaku is just unfair. There are only two advancement spots, and they're basically hogging one by default!"
"As national champions, they should get an extra slot or something. This screws over the rest of us!"
"Relax, most of Seigaku's regulars graduated. Only one regular, their captain, and that foreign exchange student are left."
"You think that's nothing? Their captain is called the best in middle school, and that exchange student hasn't lost a single match! And the remaining regular? No way they're weak!"
"Plus, who says Seigaku won't reload? Winning nationals means top talent will be lining up to join!"
Inui couldn't help but marvel at how far Seigaku's reputation had soared compared to last year.
Then—
"They're here! Seigaku's here!"
A commotion erupted as a blue-and-white bus rolled to a stop, the words "Seigaku" emblazoned on its side.
"Finally!"
Inui raised his camera, zooming in on the bus doors.
Click—
The doors slid open.
First to step out was their new coach—Hanna Eisinger.
The crowd buzzed with confusion.
"Who's that? Seigaku's new coach?"
"She looks so young… and really pretty!"
"Another foreigner? First their players, now their coach. Is Seigaku going global?"
Hanna ignored the chatter, leading the team forward.
Behind her walked Yoru, draped in his signature jacket, followed by QP and Yamato.
Familiar faces—no surprises there.
But when Tezuka and the others emerged, the crowd stiffened.
Their heights alone betrayed their status as first-years—still lanky, still fresh-faced.
"Wait, Seigaku's this desperate? They're fielding kids?"
"They look all serious, but come on—they're just first-years!"
"You forgetting something? Last year, their captain was a first-year too."
"That was one freak exception. You're telling me Seigaku's newbies are all monsters? Yeah, right."
The skepticism grew louder, but the team paid no mind, heading straight for registration.
Meanwhile, Inui was more concerned about Seigaku's coaching change.
Last year, he could at least talk to Ryuzaki Sumire.
But this new coach? She didn't look like the chatty type.
Maybe… try approaching Yoru again?
His last attempt hadn't gone well.
But curiosity won out.
As soon as Yoru finished registering, Inui rushed over.
"Yoru-kun!"
He fumbled for his press badge. "You might not remember me, but—"
"Inui Mamoru. I remember."
Yoru cut him off, then smirked. "What do you need?"
…Huh?
Inui blinked.
Since when were you this polite?!
As if reading his mind, Yoru chuckled. "Last year, Seigaku was trash. I wasn't in the mood for interviews—plus, it was my first nationals. Call it youthful arrogance."
"Seigaku was trash."
Meaning this year…?
Inui's eyes lit up. "So you're saying this year's team is…?"
Yoru grinned.
"This year's Seigaku is terrifying."
"Really?!"
Inui nearly dropped his camera. "Can I get an interview?"
"Fire away."
Relief washed over Inui.
Guess the kid really has matured.
Truthfully, Yoru still hated media attention. But Nanjiroh had drilled one lesson into him:
"You want leverage? Make sure people see your value."
This was all groundwork—for U17, and beyond.
"First, congratulations on leading Seigaku to its first national title—and with a historic scoreline, no less."
"Thanks."
"With Kirihara and the others graduating, I see a lot of new faces. All first-years?"
"Yep. Aside from me, QP, and Yamato, the rest are rookies."
"Isn't that risky?"
"I was a first-year last year."
---
By the end, Inui had enough material to fuel a month's worth of articles.
One last question lingered.
"Final question—what's your personal goal moving forward?"
Yoru didn't hesitate.
"Three-peat the nationals. Two-peat the World Cup. Then go pro and become the best."
His eyes burned with absolute certainty.
(…And maybe, just maybe, take down Nanjiroh.)
Not out of spite—just curiosity.
What kind of system reward would popping his old man even give?
According to the system, defeating Echizen Nanjiroh would unlock its highest-tier prize.
Now that was worth aiming for.
---