On the two buses heading to the hotel, the junior high players stared excitedly out the windows. This bus was filled with people who had specially come to Australia to cheer them on, while the bus in front carried the competing players and coaches.
"Hey, hey~ I heard tomorrow's exhibition will pair high schoolers with junior high players for doubles. There'll be three matches in total. I wonder if I'll get a chance to play!" Kirihara said with longing.
"You're being far too careless, Kirihara! Even if it's just an exhibition, it's still important! Who goes on court is for the coaches to decide!" Sanada scolded harshly.
"Come on, you should relax a bit, Genichirō. This is our first time stepping onto the world stage, so it's natural for Kirihara to be excited," Yukimura spoke up, stopping Sanada from continuing his lecture.
"Hmph! Akashi, what's your plan?" Byoudouin, sitting in the first row, snorted when he heard the talk behind him and asked Akashi directly.
"Whether it's the exhibition or the preliminaries, players can be switched before the match starts. So it depends on the opponents. If they're from lower-ranked countries, it could be a good chance to give everyone some international experience," Akashi replied calmly.
"Don't underestimate the world! The place we're heading to isn't just some stage—it's hell!" Byoudouin snapped, clearly irritated by Akashi's indifferent tone. But he was no longer Japan's No. 1.
Akashi didn't argue. He didn't really care who the opponents were, but he still carried the necessary caution. He simply felt Byoudouin hadn't let go of his obsession.
"By the way, Yukimura, I heard Rikkai's next captain isn't Kirihara?" Fuji suddenly asked from the back.
"Tch! With his weak personality, there's no way he could be captain! If it weren't for…" Kirihara started to grumble, but when he saw Sanada's glare, he shut his mouth instantly.
"You're really well informed, Fuji. Rikkai's next captain will be Tamagawa Yoshio. Kirihara will be the vice-captain," Yukimura answered with a smile.
"Tamagawa Yoshio, huh? That's a new name. He must have something special about him," Fuji said thoughtfully.
"What's this? Digging into Rikkai's info already? Worried about Kaidō and Momoshiro?" Yukimura countered smoothly.
"Kaidō will make a fine captain. I have no doubt about that. And Momoshiro is the perfect choice for vice-captain," Inui suddenly joined in.
"Hiyoshi will also be the best successor for ore-sama, right, Kabaji?" Atobe added to the discussion.
"Usu!" Kabaji responded as always.
But Oshitari and Mukahi beside him exchanged odd looks, remembering the day Atobe and Hiyoshi did their handover. Hiyoshi must have seen something strange that day—he went to an eye doctor right after.
"You guys sure are lucky, having such solid successors. Zaizen's talent is good, but his personality…" Shiraishi sighed, clearly worried about Shitenhōji's future.
"Don't worry, Shiraishi. Zaizen's already started training in the art of comedy!" Ishida Gin said, trying to reassure him.
"So, has Fudomine decided on its next captain?" Yanagi asked Chitose.
"Of course. Akashi decided Yūta will be captain, with Kamio as vice-captain. Next year Fudomine will keep holding onto the national title~" Chitose replied with a grin.
"Oh? I thought Akashi-kun would choose Ibu as captain. Didn't expect Yūta to take it. As his brother, I didn't even know!" Fuji said with interest.
"That's what we thought too, but who'd have guessed Yūta suddenly broke through so strongly? He even suppressed Ibu in a practice match. Right now, aside from Kintarō, no one can beat Yūta easily in singles," Tachibana Kippei said with praise.
"You've got quite the little brother, Fuji," Tezuka said, even showing a rare smile.
"Thanks, Tezuka. But once we enter high school, let's have a proper match," Fuji replied, eyes burning with fighting spirit.
"No problem. But for now, let's put all our focus on the World Cup," Tezuka nodded, his tone turning serious.
As everyone chatted about their schools' futures, the bus finally reached its destination. They all got off and checked in at the hotel. Akashi and Atobe had booked out the entire place in advance, leaving no other guests besides Japan's players. Akashi could have handled it alone, but Atobe insisted on stepping in.
Once everyone had settled their luggage, they gathered in the hotel's conference room. Seeing all the suited figures, Mifune felt deeply moved. This year, Japan's team would shake the world!
"Tonight there'll be a drawing ceremony for the exhibition match. Each country must send two representatives, one main player and one junior high representative. Decide among yourselves who will go," Mifune said straight to the point.
"Tch, don't boss me around! I've got no interest in boring stuff like that," Akutsu refused first. He didn't want to take a junior high spot, but by name he was still a main player.
"I still need to adjust my condition, so I won't join the drawing either," Oni also turned it down.
"Since Akashi is our No. 1 now, let him represent Japan," Byoudouin said casually, glancing at him.
"Fine. Let me meet the top players from other countries first. As for the junior high rep… Atobe, how about it? Join me," Akashi replied, turning toward Atobe.
"Hah? Don't tell me you're scared and need ore-sama to give you courage, Akashi?" Atobe teased.
Akashi ignored the provocation. He knew Atobe well—if he said that, it meant he had already agreed. With Atobe's pride, he wouldn't refuse anyway.
"You two sure are bold, sending two junior high players to the draw. But I'll say this—well done! It's decided," Mifune said without concern.
———
At the venue for the exhibition, Akashi calmly led Atobe into the grand hall for the drawing. Though they were still only third-year juniors, their heights over 175cm kept them from looking small.
Inside, many national reps had already arrived. Akashi scanned the room, spotting familiar faces—France's Camus and Jonathan seated not far away.
Across the hall, Switzerland's Amadeus and the noble Henry Nobel III were deep in conversation. Greece's Heracles and Laertius stood silently in the aisle, like two living statues.
Akashi stared at the Greek players. Their faces were so bizarre, like sketches of statues come alive. Their whole team looked like that, even their coach posed like a thinker sculpture.
No one paid attention to Akashi and Atobe, too unfamiliar despite the Japan emblem on their suits—until a familiar voice spoke behind them.
"Akashi-senpai, Atobe-senpai! Long time no see!" Ryōma, wearing a suit with the American crest, walked up.
"Oh? Echizen Ryōma. So you've joined the American team, huh," Atobe said, unsurprised. He already knew Ryōma had gone to the US.
"Since you've chosen America, pray you don't meet us on court, Echizen Ryōma," Akashi said calmly, glancing at him.
"I doubt that's possible. After all, we'll face each other in the finals, won't we, Akashi-senpai?" Ryōma answered, eyes burning with fighting spirit.
"Should I take that as a declaration of war, Echizen Ryōma? Looks like joining America gave you plenty of confidence," Akashi said, acknowledging his words. He didn't believe the US would reach the finals, though.
"You must be Japan's reps? Surprised it's not Byoudouin. And you—didn't we meet once in France?" Reinhardt approached, speaking warmly.
"Good memory. Seems you've completely reshaped the American team. I look forward to seeing what you can do," Akashi nodded in greeting.
As the four spoke, the hall suddenly went silent. Everyone turned to the entrance, where a bald giant and a strong young man entered—it was Germany's Volk and Frankensteiner.
"Germany, the nine-time consecutive champions. Their aura is overwhelming," Reinhardt said solemnly.
"Champions Germany? Hah! They'll fall soon enough. This year, the crown belongs to Japan—with ore-sama leading!" Atobe sneered.
"I can't agree. The champions will be us, America!" Reinhardt countered, full of confidence.
Once all the nations had gathered, the host gave a short speech, then started the draw. Representatives from each team stepped up as the attendants guided them.
Soon it was Japan's turn. Akashi signaled Atobe to go, curious if his luck would pull Germany again, just like in the original setup.
Atobe, fearless and stylish as ever, pressed the draw machine's button with a confident smile. The white balls spun rapidly inside until one popped out, marked with the number 7.
"Seven!" the attendant called out. The big screen lit up, showing Japan's opponent for the exhibition—Germany!