By the time the two left, the tennis court was utterly destroyed.
While the playing surface itself was intact, the surrounding walls and wire fencing were completely wrecked.
---
About an hour later...
Two elderly men arrived at the court, grinning from ear to ear.
"Hah! Finally sneaked out. Time for a proper match!"
"Remember—loser buys the drinks. No running away!"
"Tch, who do you take me for? Unlike you, I don't resort to underhanded tricks!"
"Hm? ...This doesn't look like our court."
"Of course not. Ours isn't this run-down!"
"No, this is our court!"
The two old men gaped at the devastation before them.
Had Tezuka and Sanada been present, they'd have recognized them immediately—their grandfathers.
Due to their age and declining health, their families had strictly forbidden them from playing tennis or drinking.
So, they'd secretly built this private court to settle their rivalry in peace.
The winner earned a feast of fine food and alcohol, and life was good.
Money wasn't an issue for either of them, so they'd used only the highest-quality materials.
The last time someone vandalized the court's fencing, the two had nearly popped a vein.
Now, history had repeated itself—and their blood pressure was soaring.
---
Meanwhile, the culprits—Yoru and QP—were happily munching on street food as they strolled home.
With Rinko and Nanako still traveling, and Nanjiro's questionable cooking skills, eating out had become their default.
Back at the temple...
QP headed straight for the shower.
The man was a machine of discipline—every minute of his day was meticulously scheduled: bathing, reading, sleeping.
Sometimes, Yoru wondered if QP was actually a robot.
Too damn disciplined.
"You're back, brat?"
A calm voice called out.
Yoru turned to see Nanjiro sitting in the main hall, sipping tea and gesturing for him to join.
Yoru frowned.
Nanjiro was never this... normal. Something was off.
He sat cross-legged. "Old man, why the sage mode? Did you just 'reward' yourself?"
"Pfft—!"
Tea sprayed everywhere.
Nanjiro coughed. "Damn kid, you'll be the death of me."
"You're acting weird. Spit it out." Yoru shrugged. "But no asking for money."
To curb Nanjiro's weekly magazine addiction, Rinko had given Yoru control of most household funds—leaving Nanjiro with just enough to survive.
Nanjiro sighed. "...What do you think about your birth mother?"
Yoru froze—then smirked. "So she came to see you?"
"Huh?!" Nanjiro blinked. "How'd you know?"
"Was it that hard to guess?"
Nanjiro's face had looked like he'd swallowed a fly the moment Yoru walked in. Coupled with the sudden mother question?
Please. Yoru had consumed enough novels and dramas in his past life to see this coming.
"I don't care about her," he said flatly. "As long as she doesn't disrupt my life, fine. But if she pays me, I'll meet her."
Following tropes, she'd show up eventually anyway. Might as well get paid for it.
He wasn't poor, but who'd say no to extra cash?
In a happy adopted family, a birth parent's role was simple: money and resources.
Never talk feelings. That's bad for business.
Nanjiro stared.
His son's mindset had always been... unique. All his prepared speeches evaporated.
"Do you... want to hear what she told me?" he ventured.
"Nope!" Yoru cut him off. "Just answer two questions: Did she abandon me and my dad for her dreams?"
"...Yes."
"And did she ever lift a finger to raise me?"
"...Not really, but—"
"Then we're done." Yoru waved dismissively. "Don't feed me excuses. A world-class tennis queen has more power than most. If she wanted to do something, she could've—just like how she found us now."
He'd seen all the tropes. Those two reasons were enough.
"If she comes again, tell her my terms. Now..."
Yoru pulled out his racket and a ball.
Nanjiro grabbed his wooden racket and followed.
---
Thirty seconds later—
BOOM!
A blinding light erupted across the court, followed by a deafening impact.
The temple's clay court suffered under the force, though Nanjiro returned the shot effortlessly.
"I figured you'd learned it after giving Ryoma that cross-string racket," Nanjiro mused. "But you've mastered it fast."
"Old man, I need your advice..."
Yoru had a new goal: his own version of the Glowing Shot.
Training with QP had exposed a harsh truth—Ryoma's future "Hope Glow" was years away, and the basic Glow might not cut it in this Diamond Generation era.
But creating a new Glow wasn't simple.
Most of his skills came from Ryoma, QP, or copied techniques. Forcing them into a Glow felt... off.
Few knew this, but Nanjiro was the first in the series to perform a Glow—during Ryoma's training, he'd used a wooden stick to smash a rock with Glow-level force.
His expertise was unmatched.
After hearing Yoru out, Nanjiro chuckled. "Kid, you're overcomplicating it. You need to change how you see it..."
What followed was a masterclass—one that shattered Yoru's understanding and revealed just how terrifying Nanjiro's tennis IQ truly was.
---
Meanwhile...
Mizonokuchi Junior High (Kansai Region)
Even after defeating Rikkai, Byoudouin still wasn't satisfied.
The real battle awaited in the finals.
His gaze drifted toward a desolate mountain, as if weighing a decision...
---