Golden Era (Book 2)

60. The Winner

Everyone was cheering for Ryoma from the get-go.

Realistically, a quarter of the attendees signed up only after his registration was publicized. In the realm of Japanese athletics, Echizen Ryoma had been elevated to a god-like status. With his win streak and his father being Samurai Nanjiro, his fame blazed like the midday sun. Meanwhile, Fuji Shuusuke was virtually unknown to the world. Even for those who knew tennis, he was nothing short of a faded star—another forfeited athlete past his prime.

Pandemonium spread when the referee announced that starting score was readjusted upon the players' request. The game would begin at 3-2, with the first service granted to Echizen Ryoma.

Oblivious to the uproar of confusion, Ryoma and Fuji entered the coliseum and the match kicked off.

Confusion only heightened as the game went on. Far removed from the crowd's anticipation, it became clear that their match would involve zero special techniques.

When spectators caught on, they were bewildered. Both players were renowned for their techniques: Fuji Shuusuke for his flawless counters and Echizen Ryoma for his uncanny tennis sense and ability to adapt to a wide range of playstyles.

"What kind of game are they trying to play?" Noa was nonplussed as the rally went on. "I'm no tennis expert, but even I know their skills are beyond getting the ball over the net."

Inui, although mildly disappointed for the lack of data to pilfer, saw beyond individual hits. "Ami-san, this game is more complicated than it appears."

"Complicated?! It looks like grade-school tennis to me!"

"It looks effortless like they're just batting the shots back and forth... In reality, this isn't a game ordinary players are capable of."

Watching Noa's expression twist and turn, Atobe elaborated, "Inui's trying to say the simplicity of this game is planned. Looking at it closely, you'll be able to tell that the speed of their shots, their pace, and their clean execution aren't skills that amateur players can pull off. They're deliberately bringing tennis to its rawest form."

"Atobe couldn't have explained it better," agreed Shiraishi. It was like reliving his "Bible Tennis"—the textbook playstyle implemented with little effort. This, he realized, was even more minimal than his craft. "Looks like this game is also highly personal."

Atobe nodded, so did Inui, but neither said a word.

Turning to Ayuna, Noa said with raised eyebrows, "Do you have a clue what these guys are trying to get at?"

Suddenly, all eyes were on her. Unknowing what sort of expressions were on her face, Ayuna said slowly, "They're trying to settle something personal through this game. To keep themselves protected, they've made the game incomprehensible to outsiders."

Sensing there was an alternate plot at work, Noa pressed, "Well, sounds like you might know—do you?"

Giving her head a small shake, she said evasively, "I don't. This is strictly between them."

***

Nobody knew about this additional clause: Ryoma and Fuji had agreed to renounce all techniques.

They wanted the game to have absolute fairness, meaning there would be no extraneous influences to cushion them except for the primitive elements of tennis. All they had to use were the basics: it was strictly a competition of speed, strength, agility and precision. They were whittled down to a naked playstyle, distilling tennis to its very essence, tantamount to fighting bare-handed. To outsiders, it would seem tedious—stupid, even. To them, it was the most fitting conclusion.