Chapter 245: The U17 Trial (Part 3)

Hyotei Tennis Club.

After the finals, Coach Tōru Mizuki announced a break, allowing the team to rest until the start of the fall semester.

However, influenced by Ishikawa, training had become a part of daily life for the Hyotei team members. Except for a few who couldn't make it due to personal reasons, almost everyone showed up.

The spacious tennis club was alive with activity, with players training in every corner.

In the office, an old record player spun gently, filling the room with soothing, melodic music. Mizuki sat in his chair, eyes closed, lightly tapping the desk as he savored the relaxed, triumphant feeling after their championship win.

"Coach."

The door opened, and a tall figure with lavender-gray hair walked in—Atobe.

"Take a seat," Mizuki said with a nod. Once Atobe sat down, Mizuki smiled and asked, "I heard from the school board that your mother wants you to study abroad in England?"

"Word travels fast, huh?" Atobe frowned slightly.

The thought of his mother, who always made decisions for him and simply informed him afterward, made him uncomfortable.

"It's true," Atobe admitted, looking up. "We've won the national championship, and with you and Ishikawa here, my presence isn't as crucial anymore."

"England is a good choice," Mizuki acknowledged, but then he slid a piece of paper across the table to Atobe. "But unfortunately, if you'd come half an hour earlier, I might have agreed."

"Huh?" Atobe picked up the paper and glanced at it, his expression turning puzzled. "He's taking a leave of absence? For a whole month?"

The paper was Ishikawa's leave request. He mentioned having something important to attend to and asked Mizuki to handle the school paperwork. He also entrusted the team to Atobe and Mizuki.

"I don't know the details," Mizuki said, shaking his head. He gazed out the window at the training players and added softly, "Even if you're leaving, you should say goodbye properly, don't you think? After all, you're the 'King of Hyotei.'"

"Right," Atobe nodded.

Mizuki was correct. Even if he were to leave, there was no need to rush. This place had been his home for three years, filled with countless memories and efforts.

As for Ishikawa...

Atobe's eyes gleamed at the thought of him.

Though he didn't know where Ishikawa had gone, it was likely related to tennis.

"He's already so strong... yet he still pushes himself like this," Atobe murmured, his competitive spirit reigniting. The thrill of winning the finals had begun to fade, but thinking of Ishikawa brought it back in full force.

"Fine," Atobe thought to himself. "I'll wait for you for a month."

He made up his mind. Over the next month, he would train harder than ever. When the time came to leave, he wanted to face Ishikawa in one final match.

Somewhere on a Shinkansen train from Kamakura to Tokyo...

A young man with orange curly hair leaned against his seat, staring out the window in a daze.

"I can't believe Seiichi and Sanada lost in the national tournament..."

The young man, Ryouma Mori from Rikkai Dai Fuzoku High School, sighed deeply.

When he heard the news yesterday, he was shocked. He knew how strong the middle school team was, with Seiichi, Sanada, and Yanagi leading a group of incredibly talented players.

That lineup should have been enough to dominate the nation.

Yet, they only made it to the semifinals, not even securing second place.

"I heard they lost to Hyotei..."

Thinking of Hyotei, Mori's mind immediately conjured up the image of a towering figure. Instinctively, he rubbed his temples.

"Wait... wasn't that guy from Hyotei?"

Then, he remembered a black-haired boy.

The memory of that terrifying match sent a shiver down his spine.

"If it's him, then it's no surprise."

After all, that boy had gone toe-to-toe with the national high school champion, Echizen Nanjiro, and held his own!

Witnessing that match had driven Mori to train relentlessly, pushing his limits every day.

Two months later, Mori's skills had improved dramatically. He had even considered challenging that boy at Hyotei's high school since he was a third-year and would graduate soon.

But before Mori could make the trip, a mysterious letter interrupted his plans.

"A world-class tennis training base?"

The letter mentioned a highly secretive training facility for high school players. Eager to grow stronger, Mori didn't hesitate to set off.

"According to the letter, there are only two trains a day to that place."

After arriving in Tokyo, Mori followed the address in the letter and took a taxi to a remote parking lot.

The lot was filled with buses, and tour guides were bustling about, herding tourists. After some searching, Mori finally found the bus he needed and boarded just before it departed.

"Phew..."

Mori breathed a sigh of relief. The letter had emphasized that there were only two buses daily. Missing this one would have meant waiting until afternoon.

"Lucky guy," a teasing voice came from behind him.

Mori turned to see a red-haired boy smirking at him.

"A high schooler from Kyoto's Maizuru West?"

Recognizing the school emblem on the boy's uniform, Mori raised an eyebrow. Maizuru West was a regular at national tournaments but never ranked high—more like a team Rikkai could easily crush.

Mori, being laid-back and non-confrontational, chose to ignore the comment.

But then, something caught his eye, and he froze.

"Is that... him?"

Mori's gaze locked onto a black-haired boy sitting in the corner of the bus.

"Ishikawa Shin!"

Instantly, Mori's mind flashed back to the Kantō Tournament and that unofficial but utterly terrifying match.

One side was the national high school champion, Echizen Nanjiro.

The other was this boy from Hyotei, Ishikawa Shin, a middle schooler!

"Why is he here? Did he get the invitation too?"

Mori was stunned. As far as he knew, the training base only recruited high school players. But Ishikawa was just a first-year middle schooler!

"What's with that look?"

The red-haired boy from Maizuru West was getting annoyed, thinking Mori was giving him attitude.

"Hey, Maizuru West," a lazy voice interrupted. "I'd advise you not to mess with him."

The red-haired boy turned, his expression shifting when he saw who it was.

"Genichirou Sanada from Rikkai?!"

As a member of last year's Kansai regional semifinalist team, the red-haired boy knew better than to provoke Sanada.

"Looks like he's here too," Sanada muttered, glancing at Mori.

He recognized Mori as Rikkai's regular player. Last year's national tournament had seen Mori defeat Rikkai's star player, handing them a crushing defeat.

But this year, Mori had been absent from the national tournament. Sanada had assumed Mori had quit tennis after entering high school, but it seemed there was more to it.

"If he's here, then this place might not be full of idiots like that Maizuru West guy," Sanada thought, a faint smile on his face.

But then, he noticed Mori's gaze shifting.

Mori wasn't reacting to the red-haired boy's taunts or looking at Sanada. Instead, his eyes were fixed on the back of the bus.

"Is there another strong player here?" Sanada wondered.

But when he glanced back, he didn't see anyone particularly noteworthy—just a black-haired boy who stood out a bit.

Sanada didn't sense any pressure from him, though. The boy seemed ordinary, aside from being good-looking.

"Maybe I'm overthinking it," Sanada thought, frowning slightly.

The bus fell silent as it left the city and entered the mountains.

After about half an hour, they arrived at a secluded parking lot deep in the forest.

"Everyone, we've arrived," the driver announced. "Please disembark."

About 30 people got off the bus, which then turned around and drove away.

A group of staff members in black jackets and white caps approached.

"Welcome to Japan's U17 training base," the leader said. "Here, you'll receive the best tennis training in the world. You might even get the chance to represent your country on the national team."

The national team?!

The high schoolers, who had been feeling drowsy from the ride, suddenly perked up, their eyes filled with excitement.

"However," the leader continued sternly, "this base doesn't tolerate slackers. To enter those gates, you must pass an initial test."

He gestured to a room covered by a black curtain.

"Inside, there are 10 ball machines. Each machine has a target. Your goal is to score 200 points in one minute."

"If you succeed, you'll earn the right to enter the U17 base."

"If you fail, you'll be deemed lacking in talent and must leave before sunset."

"Um... excuse me," one of the high schoolers whispered nervously. "The bus is gone. If we fail, how do we leave?"

The leader smiled faintly.

"Simple. You walk back."

The high schoolers' faces paled.

Even Mori and Sanada felt a chill run down their spines.

Any illusions they had about this training base were shattered in an instant.