'Looks like that middle schooler on the other side specializes in net play. Definitely well-suited for doubles... but the two of them don't seem to have great chemistry.' Jonathan glanced at the ball lying on the court, quietly analyzing the situation.
Kaji didn't think much of Niō's shot. To him, the French team's overall strength was mediocre anyway, so letting his junior partner show off a little wasn't a big deal.
Soon, Kaji launched his second ultra–high-speed serve. But this time, Edgard had anticipated it. Reading the trajectory early, he successfully returned the serve. Kaji had already appeared at the net, swinging hard to intercept. The ball sliced through the air, heading for the right sideline.
Jonathan reacted immediately, stepping sideways to intercept, but Kaji's timing threw him off. His prediction of Kaji's speed was off by just enough that the ball grazed past the tip of his racket. It looked like it would hit the baseline and bounce out, but suddenly, Edgard's figure appeared—he returned it with a high lob.
Niō leapt up, his left hand raising the racket as if for an overhead smash. Jonathan instinctively backed away—but in midair, Niō's body spun sharply halfway around, and he backhanded the shot downward.
Though it was still a smash, the angle and trajectory completely caught Jonathan off guard. He could only watch the ball fly past him. Edgard had no chance of catching up either.
"30–0!"
"Hey, hey, Momo! You see that? That's my Kikumaru Bazooka!" From the stands, Kikumaru grabbed Momoshiro by the arm, shouting excitedly.
"I saw it, I saw it! Kikumaru-senpai, stop shaking me! I'm gonna puke~" Momoshiro groaned, looking nauseated.
"I get it now—Niō's pretending to be a nimble net-play type, tricking that data-collecting middle schooler into misreading his playstyle!" Inui adjusted his glasses, speaking in a tone that suggested he'd seen right through everything.
"That's right. The chance of the opponent collecting false data is 100%," Yanagi replied calmly beside him.
"That's because the French players haven't mastered the true essence of data tennis," Mitsuya said gently, advising both of them. "You can't just rely on numbers—you have to see the logic beneath them."
"As expected of the court's trickster. I almost feel bad for those two now~" Irie sighed dramatically, pulling out a handkerchief to dab at the corners of his eyes.
"You're the last person qualified to say that, Kanata~" Tanegashima said flatly, giving him a look.
While the Japan Team bench was deep in conversation, Niō and Kaji were completely dominating on court. Kaji's lightning-fast footwork kept him ahead of every shot, while Niō's unpredictable, dance-like movements let him return balls from bizarre angles.
"Game! Japan! 3–0!"
"Hey, you're not planning to transform into anyone this match?" During the timeout, Kaji asked, glancing sideways at Niō.
"Well~ it's not time yet," Niō said with a grin, his tone light.
"Tch, whatever. It's not like the opponents are anything special anyway. I could handle this alone," Kaji said indifferently.
Coach Mifune frowned at Kaji's attitude. His bad habit was surfacing again. He turned to Kurobe, who immediately understood and nodded, signaling that he'd handle it.
Before the timeout ended, Kurobe leaned close to Niō and whispered a few words. Niō blinked in surprise, then glanced at Kaji. A mischievous smile crept onto his lips as he nodded to Kurobe in acknowledgment.
The fourth game began with Jonathan's serve. He didn't have any special serving technique—just a simple diagonal serve. Niō returned it easily.
Then Kaji exploded into motion, unleashing a relentless offensive. His silver hair streaked across the court like lightning, dazzling the crowd with every movement.
Edgard and Jonathan tried to hold their ground, but they couldn't keep up with Kaji's overwhelming speed. Even the most agile player on their team, Auguir, couldn't move that fast.
With Kaji continuing to ramp up the pace, the French duo gradually lost their ability to respond. They could only watch helplessly as points slipped away. Still, though their faces showed frustration, their eyes remained calm—they had expected this outcome from the start.
"Game! Japan! 4–0!"
"Game! Japan! 5–0! Change sides!"
In no time, Kaji's sheer speed had earned two more consecutive games. Inside, a dangerous sense of arrogance began to stir. Meanwhile, Niō had faded almost completely into the background, only stepping in occasionally to cover a few shots for support.
"How's it going? You've gathered all the data, right?" During the break, Edgard asked Jonathan directly.
"Of course, Edgard-senpai~ That middle schooler's movements are a bit tricky, but they follow a pattern. As for that high schooler—yeah, he's fast, really fast—but his personality flaw will be his fatal weakness!" Jonathan spoke confidently, sounding completely different from the timid boy he'd been earlier.
"Good. But I still think you need a little color," Edgard said, staring thoughtfully at Jonathan's face.
"I refuse! That would look way too—" Before Jonathan could finish, Edgard's hand-chop landed squarely on his forehead.
Jonathan was struck by Edgard's hand-chop.
Meanwhile, at the Japan Team's bench, Kaji sat down casually, gulping down water. The last two explosive games had eaten into his stamina, but he didn't seem to care at all.
"Looks like we'll wrap up this first set soon. The next one won't be much trouble either. So, how does it feel to win your debut match, Niō-kun?" Kaji grinned smugly, his arrogant nature showing through completely.
"Naturally, it feels great~ I'll be counting on you for the rest of the match too, Kaji-senpai," Niō replied with an easy smile—one that resembled a sly white fox.
The break ended quickly, and after the side change, the match resumed. The sixth game was Edgard's serve. Standing at the baseline, his aura suddenly shifted. A faint transparent air current began swirling around his racket.
"He let Japan take five games on purpose so that Georges could collect enough data. Then, they'll reverse the situation in one burst, showing Japan the vast gap in strength. Classic Delacroix style—Edgard Theater is about to begin!" Camus chuckled softly from the French bench.
"But isn't that risky? What if he actually loses the match?" Tristan frowned. He and Timothée had been completely crushed by Japan earlier, after all.
"If Edgard's doing this, it means he's confident. And even if he does lose this one, we'll still crush Japan in the three singles matches afterward," Prounce said confidently.
On court, Edgard began moving his racket in smooth, fluid motions, as if painting through the air. The transparent current followed the racket's path, drawing twisted arcs that shimmered faintly.
Edgard's Art Tennis.
With a sharp thwack, Kaji suddenly saw an antelope leap gracefully past him. Before he could react, the ball had already landed beyond the baseline. His expression immediately soured.
"Ace! 15–0!"
Edgard's next serve came in instantly. Kaji flashed to the landing spot, but just as he was about to return it, a frigatebird suddenly swooped before his eyes. It dodged his racket with eerie agility and then transformed back into a ball, bouncing out of bounds.
"Ace! 30–0!"
"What the hell was that?!" Kaji stared at the ball behind him, disbelief written all over his face.
"Your data's been collected, Kaji-senpai. They're using your shot habits to craft targeted serves," Niō said as he walked up beside him.
"Data tennis, huh? But with my speed, even Mitsuya can't score that easily against me!" Kaji protested, clearly annoyed.
"Well~ we'll have to observe a little longer to see the full picture," Niō replied, his tone uncharacteristically serious.
Edgard's third serve shot toward Niō's right side. When Niō reached the landing point, a massive mammoth suddenly charged at him. The impact sent his racket flying from his hand.
"Ace! 40–0!"
"So it's a power-based serve now? That's gonna be a pain~ Puri," Niō muttered, frowning as he picked up his racket.
While Niō focused intently on Edgard, the fourth serve came flying in. In his eyes, a huge gorilla appeared this time, its enormous fist smashing through the space where his racket had been.
"Game! France! 5–1!"
After taking the game, Edgard struck a dramatic pose at the baseline. It seemed like every member of the French team had some kind of compulsion—they couldn't score without showing off afterward.
Posing Edgard.
"Edgard-senpai! Didn't we agree the last one would be a chimpanzee?" Jonathan said, walking up with an indignant look.
"Hmm? What's the difference? They're both primates," Edgard replied casually, still posing without missing a beat.
"They're not the same!!! That was a baboon, not a chimpanzee! That completely—"
Another hand-chop silenced Jonathan before he could finish.