The sky was still dark when Ren dragged his body through the gates of Court 3. His uniform clung damp with yesterday's sweat, shoes half-soaked from the morning dew. Every step echoed in his ears like a reminder: you lost, and the whole world saw it.
But the HUD's quest still burned in his vision.
[Quest: Court 3. Dawn. Don't be late.]
A figure stood waiting on the court, arms folded, cap pulled low. The same man who had stopped him in the tunnel after the humiliating match. Daigo Kenzaburo.
"You came," Daigo said, voice rough and unimpressed.
Ren bowed, out of habit more than respect. "I—I don't know why I'm—"
"Shut up," Daigo snapped. "Feet first. Words later."
He pointed to chalk lines drawn in sharp triangles across the court. "Step. Split. Recover. Again."
Ren stumbled into the drill. His sneakers squeaked against the painted lines, legs heavy like sacks of wet sand. The first shuffle nearly sent him tumbling.
Daigo's eyes narrowed. "Your feet are lying. Again."
Ren bit down on his lip. My legs aren't even mine anymore...
He forced himself through another set. Then another. By the fifth, his lungs wheezed. His knees buckled, but Daigo didn't move to catch him.
"Again."
Ren swallowed back bile. "Sensei, I—"
"Again."
The word struck harder than any serve.
When Ren collapsed by the baseline, Daigo walked past him without pity. He struck a ball against the glass. It ricocheted back at a wicked angle.
"Watch the seam. Hear the bounce."
Ren raised his racket too late—the ball skidded past him. Another ball followed. Frame-hit. Out.
Daigo fed him again. Ren lunged, strings finally catching the ball. It kissed the glass and came back alive. His arm trembled, but he blocked again.
Two. Three. Four.
His lungs screamed, but he kept it alive until the ball finally died into the net.
Daigo's eyebrow twitched—not quite approval, but not dismissal either.
The last torture came with a ball in Ren's palm. "Your toss is garbage," Daigo muttered. He adjusted Ren's wrist with a sharp flick. "Lift with your fingers, not your palm. Throw it like you're trying to hit the sky, not shoo a fly."
Ren exhaled. The ball arced higher this time. His racket rose, clean contact ringing against the morning air.
The HUD flickered faintly.
[Stamina +1]
[Reflex +1]
Ren blinked, chest heaving. It... actually worked.
Daigo didn't smile. "One clean serve doesn't make you a player. Tomorrow—double load. Bleed after practice, not during."
Ren collapsed onto the bench, body shaking from exhaustion. His chest burned, but deep inside, a spark flickered.
I'm still standing.
Meet The Character :
Daigo Kenzaburo
Role: Coach
Age: 58
Nationality: Japanese
Appearance: Gruff, scarred, unshaven, always with a cigarette.
Personality: Harsh, no-nonsense on court; secretly kind off it.
Signature Shot: "Iron Wall" Defense
Known For: undiscovered yet
Quirks:
Calls everyone "brat" or "weakling." Hates technology, prefers analog drills.
Love Language: Acts of Service (like throwing balls at your head).
Birthday: January 1
Goal:
Short-term: Toughen Ren.
Fun Fact: Once defeated an entire squad of ranked players alone... wearing sandals.
Racket Name: 「Tetsu no Kabe」 (Wall of Iron)
An old wooden racket with carved kanji, in a world where everyone else uses carbon fiber. Trait: Absolute defense — opponents' smashes lose spirit against its relentless returns.