"This…"
Both Yukimura and Sanada were sharp enough to grasp the implication behind Yoru's words.
After a brief hesitation, Yukimura awkwardly replied, "We've decided to enroll at Rikkai Dai…"
"I see. That's fine."
Yoru wasn't disappointed—he'd expected this answer.
The distance between Kanagawa and Seigaku was too great, and given their age, transferring simply wasn't practical.
While their addition would've strengthened Seigaku, it would've also ruined the fun of future Nationals.
Having Yukimura and the others at Rikkai meant there'd still be a good show to watch.
If they all joined Seigaku? Where's the drama in that?
Besides, there was Ryoma to consider.
These two were essential "experience boosters" for the protagonist.
Thanks to Ryoma's "never-lose-in-official-matches" protagonist halo, facing off against Yukimura and Sanada in official matches would trigger his next major power-up.
But if they were all on the same team, there'd be no official matches between them.
---
At the train station, Yukimura hesitated before asking:
"Senpai… I heard you possess a sensory manipulation ability, like Johanna Langmann?"
"Yeah."
"So during Nationals… when Tooyama Kippei acted like that, was it sensory deprivation?"
Yoru shook his head. "Not entirely. I was testing something new—alternating reality and illusion. A different application of sensory control."
"Most of what he saw and heard was real. But at critical moments, I'd feed him false sensory input."
"Mixing truth and lies makes it harder to detect or guard against."
"That's why, on TV, you saw him unleash powerful shots—only to send them flying out of bounds."
"It's mostly an innate talent, though."
He didn't bother hiding it.
Before Nationals, when his progress had stalled, he'd focused on refining his Ten'i Muhou (Divine Sense) applications.
His conclusion?
Alternating reality and illusion was the most insidious and devastating approach.
Back then, the technique hadn't been fully polished—hence why Tooyama could sense something was off.
But now?
Tooyama wouldn't even realize he'd lost until the match was over.
"Amazing…" Yukimura couldn't help but envy him.
His own style leaned toward Ten'i Muhou as well.
But without Yoru's mental天赋 (innate talent), he could only rely on flawless play and gap exploitation to induce Yips.
According to tennis records, only two people possessed sensory manipulation:
1. Johanna Langmann.
2. Yoru.
This ability wasn't just another mental quirk—it was in a league of its own.
---
"It's getting late. You two should head back."
As the train approached, Yoru smiled.
"If you're at Rikkai, I hope we'll meet at Kantō or Nationals."
"Yes, Senpai!"
The two bowed deeply.
Today's visit had given them plenty to digest.
Once their bodies matured, their skills would leap forward.
After seeing them off, Yoru checked the distance home and decided to walk.
Waiting for the next train would take just as long…
---
Meanwhile—Ryōgoku Temple (Yoru's Home)
Pushing open the gate, Yoru frowned at the pitch-black interior.
"Did they go out to eat without me? …Should've grabbed something on the way back."
Then it hit him.
His foot froze mid-step.
Nanjirō and Rinko would never leave him out. And Nanako always informed him beforehand.
"A prank, huh?"
Eyes narrowing, he closed the door and muttered:
"Old man, I don't know how you talked Rinko-mom and Nanako into this… but you're underestimating me."
With a flicker, he vanished—slipping silently toward the kitchen window, a smirk playing on his lips.
---
Inside the Darkened Hall
A stunning face peeked out from behind a pillar, watching the shut door.
"Uncle… why didn't he come in? Did you mess up?"
From behind the TV, a voice grumbled: "Impossible! Absolutely impo—"
"MILLENNIUM KILL!"
"GYAAAAAAAA—!!!"
Before he could finish, a sharp whoosh cut through the air—followed by Nanjirō launching from his hiding spot, landing butt-up, faint smoke rising from his rear.
"U-Uncle?!"
"Old man, you alive?"
Rinko and Nanako rushed out as Yoru emerged, calmly wiping his fingers with a tissue.
"Relax. I've practiced this move—clears blockages without permanent damage~"
Turning to the women, he raised an eyebrow.
"Since when do you two humor his nonsense?"
"We wanted to surprise you!"
Rinko proudly presented a tennis-racket-shaped cake, kicking Nanjirō aside (as per family hierarchy).
Nanako began singing: "Happy~~ Birthday to You~~"
"My birthday?"
Yoru blinked, pulling up his system screen.
Sure enough—he'd just turned 13.
Five more years till I can legally hit up Kabukichō!
---
Under the moonlight, laughter filled the Ryōgoku residence.
Ryōga and Ryōma sent birthday wishes, while gifts piled up:
- A tennis uniform (clearly from Nanjirō/Rinko).
- A tennis-themed figurine (Nanako's taste).
- Cat-paw gloves (Ryōma's signature weirdness).
- A tangerine hat (Ryōga's "I-tried" energy).
But one package stood out—a sleek, carbon-fiber racket from Switzerland.
No prizes for guessing the sender.
"Tch."
Yoru wanted to refuse…
But the racket's design—its weight, balance, everything—was perfect.
(And yes, he could afford his own gear. But this was personalized.)
"…Guess I'll use it."
He stuffed it into his bag with practiced nonchalance.
With the new term approaching, he looked forward to Tezuka and the others joining Seigaku.
"Now… we wait for school to start."
---