It was already past midnight—12:10 a.m. Shirase lay flat on his back, eyes on the ceiling, unable to sleep.
The words Kojima Kana had said earlier still echoed vividly in his mind—completely beyond what he'd expected.
And yet, the more he thought about it, the more inevitable they seemed.
After all, she had never been confident. Her toughness, her composure—just masks she wore to protect herself.
His arrival had clearly disrupted her rhythm. Just as she'd said herself, she was finally living days filled with real happiness.
Others might not have noticed, but Shirase knew: back in those first few days, Kana would rush straight home from work every night—not for anything special, just to be there with him.
Or maybe, it was because she wanted someone waiting for her.
At the start of tonight's talk, Shirase had intended to lay everything out seriously—not to be cruel, but because some things needed clarity.
But she hadn't given him the chance.
Kana had faced him head-on, fear and all, refusing to talk about their "tutoring relationship" directly but boldly confessing what she felt anyway.
I don't care!
That same resolute expression flashed through his mind—earnest, trembling, yet unwavering.
How did that clumsy, soft-hearted woman suddenly find such courage?
Shirase closed his eyes. After seeing her so vulnerable, he couldn't bring himself to say anything that might hurt her.
Let's just leave things as they are for now.
With that thought, he rolled to his side and tried to sleep—but his mind wouldn't quiet.
Eventually, he sighed and muttered to himself, "No wonder I can't sleep—I've mangled my blanket. How's a blanket-burrito king supposed to fall asleep?"
...
In the days that followed, Shirase and Kojima Kana slipped back into their usual routines. Still, he noticed it immediately—she smiled more often now.
Sometimes even grinned in that goofy, carefree way that was so unlike her usual self.
By Thursday—just two days before the next friendly match—Shirase woke up, checked his phone, and saw a new message in the team group chat.
There'd be no training today.
Apparently, the captain had taken a few members to Toritsu High School for on-site scouting.
Shirase frowned. Toritsu's already keeping tabs on us, and you think they'll let you stroll in and gather intel?
Even if they did find anything, it'd be whatever the other side wanted them to see.
The school day itself passed as usual—nothing new, nothing noteworthy.
Except that every time someone greeted him, they followed it up with, "The match is this Saturday, right? How's prep going?"
"Our match is all over the school," Hayama Hayato remarked, chatting with him during lunch. "If we lose now, we'll never live it down."
Shirase glanced at him, a little surprised. Maybe Hayama was finally fired up.
Only Saturday would tell.
With practice canceled, Shirase stayed after school for solo conditioning—running drills, strength tests, reaction work.
After weeks of structured training, his stats had improved across the board. Not superhuman yet, but more than enough for high school-level play.
As he left the building, he caught faint shouts from the tennis courts.
He glanced over—and froze.
Two familiar figures stood on the far-left court. No—very familiar.
Yukinoshita Yukino and Yuigahama Yui.
Yukinoshita… playing tennis? For someone often described as physically fragile, that was unexpected.
Both girls wore standard white tennis skirts, the fabric fluttering lightly with each swing, safety shorts occasionally peeking beneath.
Despite her slim build, Yukinoshita's legs weren't the brittle kind one might imagine. Under the sunlight, her thighs looked smooth and toned, with a soft, natural curve.
Yuigahama Yui, on the other hand, had the kind of lively figure that was impossible to ignore—her every movement full of bounce and energy.
Yukinoshita's side of the court, naturally, had none of that movement.
Shirase hadn't planned to say anything and started to pass by—until both girls noticed him.
Yukinoshita's cool voice carried first: "Just now, where exactly were your eyes looking?"
He stopped, turning toward her. "What kind of question is that supposed to be?"
Yuigahama paused mid-serve, face flushed from exercise. She shyly raised her racket to half-hide her expression. "I-I noticed too, Shirase-kun. Your eyes were kind of… wandering…"
Yukinoshita arched an eyebrow as if to say, See? Even she agrees.
Shirase sighed, genuinely innocent this time. "I only looked over because I heard the sound of a match. As for your claim that my eyes were wandering—do you honestly think I'm interested in girls' safety shorts?"
"…He actually said it outright," Yuigahama blurted, stunned.
Yukinoshita let out a quiet, amused "Oh?" and tilted her head. "You seem quite confident in your defense."
"Because it's the truth," Shirase said plainly.
After all, both girls had been mid-swing. It wasn't as if he'd intentionally stared.
"Shirase-kun, no training today?" Yuigahama asked curiously, noticing how neat and dry his hair looked.
"Captain took a few guys to scout Toritsu High," he replied.
"Eh? Scouting in person?" Yui blinked.
"Yeah. I guess they think more intel will help."
"That's one diligent captain…" she murmured, half admiring.
Yukinoshita's voice cut through, cool as ever. "The match is only two days away. Scouting now isn't what I'd call wise."
Shirase glanced at her. "So, Yukinoshita-san has a special insight?"
"No," she replied evenly. "Just an opinion."
Then her gaze softened, the corners of her lips lifting slightly. "Still, seeing how composed you are, your team must be in good shape. At least you won't panic against stronger opponents."
Her faint smile deepened, eyes gleaming with quiet challenge. "Perhaps those boastful words you said to me before… finally have a chance to come true."
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