piratefiction Chapter 137 Ryo Mochizuki VS Akaya Kirihara
Chapter 137 Ryo Mochizuki VS Akaya Kirihara
Niou climbed up from the recliner, causing the chair beneath him to shake violently. "Piyo~ It seems Akatsuki is serious too."
He glanced sideways at the boy bowing and asking for a challenge before Wang Yueling, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "Seriously, our ace's temper has really evolved. In the past, if someone had predicted he would lose right from the start, he would have jumped up and bitten them."
"really."
Yagyu walked behind Niou and helped him adjust the recliner, nodding slightly. "Akaya's emotional control has improved a lot since a month ago."
"Can we not evolve?"
Marui was chewing gum, and a bubble popped on his nose, but he didn't care and just wiped it off. "For a whole week, Ling has been attacking us every day. Not to mention Akaya, Ling also gave me a thorough dressing down, saying that my net play was like I hadn't eaten."
"I'm no longer bothered by being criticized now."
Kuwabara nodded beside Marui, deeply agreeing, "To be precise, it's not just Akane who's evolving, but everyone who participated in the training camp has evolved."
"Normally sharp tongues are no longer effective against us."
As Yukimura listened to their teasing, he took out the rehabilitation racket that Mochizuki Ryo had customized for him from the bag next to him. The racket body was blue-purple and polished smooth and delicate.
He held it in his hand and tested its feel.
The weight is just right, a little lighter than a regular racket, suitable for his arm which is still in recovery. The grip thickness is also suitable, and the way the sweatbands are wrapped is very professional; they're not just randomly wrapped around, but each one is pressed very firmly.
He rubbed the lined puppy at the end of the tail with his thumb; the pattern felt a little itchy.
She then picked up the wristbands and ankle braces from her bag. The light purple fabric had a delicate calamus pattern, and each braces had a small "S" embroidered on the inside.
They are the initials of his name.
The ankle brace has a unique strap design, with an extra cross strap compared to those sold on the market, which provides better joint stability.
Yukimura put the wristband on his hand and tried to loosen it.
just.
He looked down at the things, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Is it really as exaggerated as you all say?"
Liu sat next to him, opened her notebook, and solemnly explained to him using data.
"According to records from the training camp, we were each scolded an average of 8.7 times a day."
"Ryo Mochizuki gave Kirihara 'technical guidance' an average of four times a day, each session lasting about seven minutes. The criticism covered various aspects such as serve angle, footwork, return shot selection, energy distribution, and mental control."
"I was also the one who got scolded the most, averaging 15.3 times a day."
He turned a page.
"Among them, the criticism of Sanada was the most intense, averaging 12.1 times a day. The longest single criticism lasted 14 minutes, covering eight dimensions including tactical thinking, on-the-spot adaptability, and mental weaknesses."
"In summary, the training camp has a significant effect on psychological development."
Sanada sat on the chair next to her, his hand holding the teacup paused for a moment, and his cheeks flushed slightly.
"Renji," his voice was muffled, "there's no need to mention this kind of data."
Liu closed his notebook, glanced at him, and said, "I'm just stating the facts."
Looking at Sanada's embarrassed expression, Yukimura smirked, "So Genichiro's been scolded that many times?"
Sanada pulled his hat brim down even lower, and his voice became even more muffled, "Too lax."
Liu continued flipping through her notebook.
"After the training camp, the average stress resistance of Rikkai's regular players increased by 41%. Kirihara saw the largest increase, reaching 85%. Sanada's increase was 32%, which is relatively low, but considering that his initial stress resistance was already above average, the actual improvement was significant."
Upon hearing this, Yukimura's smile deepened.
He had heard Yanagi and Sanada analyze Mochizuki Ryo's tennis countless times, and had also watched the video of the ten-ball challenge match during the training camp repeatedly.
On the screen, a blond boy stands on the court, facing attacks from ten players simultaneously, yet his steps remain as leisurely as if he were taking a stroll.
Every swing is clean and crisp, without any unnecessary movements, yet the ball always lands precisely in a corner that the opponent cannot reach.
He really wanted to see the strength of the "Number One in the World" for himself.
"In that case," Yukimura put the wristbands and ankle braces back into his bag, took a sip of his tea, looked at Mochizuki Ryo, and said with a smile, "I'd also like to see what Coach Mochizuki's tennis is like. I'm really curious."
Just as Wang Yueling was about to continue teasing the seaweed, she swallowed back her teasing words upon hearing this. "What are you curious about?"
"I'm curious to see just how amazing you are, this 'Number One in the World'."
Mochizuki Ryou turned her head and met Yukimura's gaze, raising an eyebrow.
She bent down and leaned closer to him.
They were very close, close enough that Yukimura could feel the heat emanating from him, as well as the faint scent of lavender.
"Don't worry." Wang Yueling lowered her voice, her tone carrying a hint of amusement and a touch of arrogance, "I guarantee it will open your eyes to a whole new world."
Yukimura's cheeks flushed slightly, but he didn't back away. He simply turned his face away, picked up his teacup, took another sip, and then coughed softly.
"Then I'll wait and see."
Mochizuki Ryo straightened up, a smirk playing on her lips, a triumphant smile in her eyes. She flexed her wrists and looked at Kirihara's fluffy head.
A sly glint flashed in his eyes.
"Alright. Since Seiichi has spoken, I'll play a match with you. But let me make this clear: if you lose, you're not allowed to cry."
"I won't cry!" Kirihara immediately puffed out his chest and retorted loudly, "I'm not a little kid like Mia anymore!"
No sooner had he finished speaking than a soft laugh came from the sidelines.
"Oh? Is that so?"
Ren-ou had collapsed into a slumped position at some point, his little braid hanging off the back of the chair and swaying back and forth. "I don't know who it was, but when he was in the first year of junior high, he challenged the Big Three and lost. He ran out of the court crying and even lost a shoe in the process."
"Finally, I hid in the bathroom and cried for half an hour."
"That's right, that's right."
Marui chimed in, blowing his chewing gum until it bulged, "I was the one who went to find that shoe for him. And when Jack and I found him in the bathroom, his eyes were swollen like walnuts."
"I didn't!" Kirihara's face flushed red, and his curls stood on end. "You're talking nonsense! That was sweat! Not tears!"
"Sweat dripping from your eyes?" Niou nodded, suppressing a laugh, and drawled, "Your sweat glands are really amazing."
"I... Niou-senpai, why do you always remember these things!"
"Because it's interesting."
Kirihara's face flushed red with anger. He opened his mouth, but realizing he couldn't win the argument with Niou, he turned and glared at Marui. "Marui-senpai, why are you joining in?!"
Marui chewed his gum and blew a bubble. "Because it really happened."
"That happened two years ago!"
"What happened two years ago is also a true story!"
Kirihara was speechless, stomping her foot in embarrassment and annoyance. "I-I'm going to change into my gym clothes!"
After saying that, he turned and ran into the house.
Everyone laughed as they watched him run away in a panic. The laughter wasn't loud, but it was lively and spread throughout the courtyard in the afternoon.
Yukimura held a teacup, a slight smile playing on his lips, his purplish-blue eyes reflecting the distant shadow of Kirihara.
"Akaya is still the same as always."
"Not entirely." Liu closed her eyes and looked at the house, saying softly, "At least now we know to prepare in advance, instead of suddenly realizing we didn't bring our workout clothes."
Marui chewed the gum in his mouth and nodded.
"That's true. In the past, when I let him play in matches, we had to find a racket on the spot."
Listening to their discussion, Mochizuki Ryo smiled, picked up the racket bag placed beside her, and looked at Yukimura.
"Let's go see how much your team has improved."
After saying that, he started walking towards the basketball court. After taking a couple of steps, he turned back and winked at Yukimura.
"By the way, if you feel the grip thickness of your racket isn't right, just let me know and I'll adjust it for you. The little dog pattern at the end is the same as the weighted racket you had before; it's there to help you identify the racket."
Yukimura smiled slightly, said nothing, stood up, took off his coat and draped it over his arm, picked up his rehabilitation racket bag, and followed behind him.
Others also walked toward the stadium in twos and threes.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground. A breeze blew through the yard, carrying the lingering warmth of the barbecue and the fresh scent of flowers and grass.
Marui and Kuwabara walked side by side.
Marui chewed gum as they walked, telling Kuwabara which part of the grilled meat was the best. Kuwabara listened attentively, nodding occasionally, and said they could try different grilling methods next time.
Niou, who was afraid of the sun, quickly ran to the shade of a tree by the court.
He adjusted the chair to the most comfortable angle, crossed his legs, and slumped in the lounge chair, his braid hanging down his back. He held a bottle of ice water in his hand and pressed it to his forehead to cool down.
"Puri~ It's too hot." He squinted, his tone lazy. "I'll just watch from here. You guys do as you please."
Yagyu sat in the chair next to him, holding a cup of black tea, his back ramrod straight, like an old-fashioned gentleman attending a tea party.
Marui, holding potato chips and pudding, and Kuwabara moved two chairs to sit on the edge of the shade of a tree, where they could watch the game without getting sunburned.
Liu walked to the other end of the bench and sat down, already turning to a new page in her notebook, pen tip hovering over the paper, ready to take notes at any moment.
Yukimura chose a seat in the very center, his hands folded on his lap, looking very relaxed. On the small table next to him were a teacup and a tennis racket given to him by Mochizuki Ryo.
Kirihara quickly ran out of the villa.
Wearing a white short-sleeved shirt, dark blue shorts, and gray-blue tennis shoes with the laces tied tightly.
Holding his racket, he ran to the center of the court and stood still. His black curly hair was a little messy from the wind, but his eyes shone like little suns as he stared straight at Wang Yueling, who was warming up on the sidelines.
"Senior! I'm ready!"
His voice was loud enough to be heard throughout the entire stadium.
Wang Yueling took off her jacket and draped it over the back of the coach's chair, revealing a black and white color-blocked sports T-shirt underneath.
He took a red racket out of his racket bag. It had no extra decorations, not even a logo on the frame; it was just pure bright red.
The body of the clapper has been worn smooth and shiny, indicating that it has been used frequently.
"Genichiro, please be the referee."
Ryo Mochizuki walked to the baseline, stretched his shoulders, and then looked up at Sanada on the sidelines. "Let's play the main match without a tiebreaker."
Sanada nodded, walked to the referee's chair and sat down, his hat pulled low and his expression serious. He cleared his throat, his voice deep and powerful.
"Ryo Mochizuki VS Akaya Kirihara, the match begins now!"
The sidelines quieted down.
Marui stopped eating, Kuwabara sat up straight, Yagyu put down his teacup, and his pen stopped on the paper. Niou remained lying down, squinting at the court. Yukimura leaned back in his chair, his violet-blue eyes fixed on Mochizuki Ryo.
"Akaya." Mochizuki Ryo stretched his ankle and swung his racket at Kirihara. "You serve first."
Kirihara nodded and walked to the service line. He took a deep breath, adjusted his breathing, tightened his grip on the handle, then loosened it, then tightened it again.
He looked up at the opposite side.
Wang Yueling stood in the receiving position, her posture relaxed, her knees slightly bent, and her racket held horizontally in front of her.
It looks like he's just standing there randomly, but if you look closely, you'll see that his position perfectly covers all possible landing points for the serve.
Kirihara swallowed hard and squeezed the surface of the ball a few times.
He knew that Mochizuki Ryo was very strong, and he understood that he would most likely lose this match, but he still wanted to try. He wanted to see if his progress over the past week could earn him a point in front of his senior.
He wanted his seniors to see his progress.
He wanted to prove that he deserved the title of "Rikkai's Ace".
"Come on!" Kirihara shouted, tossing the ball into the air.
He leaned back slightly, his arm muscles tense. Then he swung his racket sharply, hitting the ball out.
"Bang!"
The ball traced a strange arc in the air, swaying irregularly from side to side, like a snake writhing in the wind, heading straight for Wang Yueling's inner corner.
"Rioting serve!!!"
Marui's eyes widened slightly on the sidelines.
"Using your ultimate move right from the start?"
Kuwahara nodded without saying anything, but his fingers clenched his trouser leg tightly.
Niou's braid stopped swaying, his eyes narrowed even more, and he stared intently at the ball that had flown away.
Liu's pen touched the paper, but he didn't move; he was waiting for the result.
Kirihara's riotous serve landed on the inside corner line, bounced up, and spun outwards.
Wang Yueling stood still, her feet not moving. With a slight twist of her wrist, she turned her racket sideways. A standard backhand slice, nothing fancy about it.
With a "snap".
The movement was very simple, like a casual swing.
The ball was cut back and landed in the baseline corner of the player's backhand side.
The ball landed with millimeter-level precision, hitting Kirihara's most uncomfortable swing position perfectly. The ball bounced forward to his waist, neither too high nor too low, neither too deep nor too shallow, just enough to prevent him from generating power comfortably.
Kirihara's pupils contracted.
He ran sideways and slashed backhand. His movement was already quite standard, much better than before the training camp; his wrist wasn't excessively turned outward, and his point of force was lower.
However, the quality of the return shot was greatly reduced, and it flew high towards the midfield.
Mochizuki Ryo moved to the net with the lightness of a cat. He raised his hand and made a simple volley, the ball landing out of Kirihara's reach.
"15-0." Sanada's voice came from the referee's chair, very calm.
There was a moment of silence on the sidelines.
Marui paused for two seconds while tearing the bag of potato chips, then slowly resumed tearing.
"It's over just like that?!"
Niou stretched his head out of the recliner, squinting at the court, "Puri~ Akaya's serve was received way too easily."
Liu Sheng sat under the shade of a tree and pushed up his glasses.
"It wasn't that he received it easily; it was that Mochizuki Ryo's return shot was too precise. He deliberately hit the ball to the most uncomfortable position on Akaya's backhand, making it impossible for Kirihara to return the ball comfortably."
Liu opened her notebook, and the pen tip quickly glided across the paper.
"First ball, a chaotic serve. Landing point: inside corner of the backhand side. Ball speed: estimated at approximately 190 km/h. Spin: irregular, three sets of changes of direction."
He paused for a moment, then continued writing.
"Wang Yueling's return shot: Backhand slice. Landing point: Backhand baseline corner, 3 cm from the sideline. Error rate for slice return shot: 100%"
He paused, then looked up at Yukimura beside him.
"Consistent with previous data."
Yukimura didn't speak, but his hand rested on the armrest of the chair, his fingers tapping lightly twice, his purplish-blue eyes fixed on the court.
He watched that ball from beginning to end.
Ryo Mochizuki's movements, swings, and return shots are all clean and precise, without any unnecessary actions.
What surprised him most was that the man's expression didn't change at all from beginning to end.
It seems that catching a riot serve is no different from catching a regular serve.
Yukimura's lips curled up slightly.
interesting.
On the court, Kirihara stood at the baseline, gripping his racket, watching the ball fall behind him, and took a deep breath.
He knew this would be the outcome.
He practiced his riot serve for a week, and even Vice-Captain Sanada couldn't return it. But Mochizuki-senpai, the one who improved his signature move, returned it without even moving his position.
Not surprisingly.
But it's still very discouraging.
He shook his head, clearing his mind, and pulled a second ball from his pocket.
"Again!"
He tossed the ball up and swung his racket again.
It was still a chaotic serve, landing at different angles, but the spin intensity remained unchanged.
Ryo Mochizuki moved a step this time, but still used a backhand slice, and the ball landed in the same direction. Kirihara moved his position in advance this time, judging the landing point before the ball hit the ground.
Backhand smash.
The ball flew back, and its quality was much better than the previous ball, landing in the mid-court of Mochizuki Ryo's backhand position.
Mochizuki Ryo took a step forward and gently flicked the ball with his forehand. The ball landed near Kirihara's feet and bounced very low.
Kirihara bent down to catch the ball, his racket touched the ball, but the ball flew directly out of bounds.
"30-0".
Sanada's voice remained calm.
Kirihara gritted his teeth.
For the third point, he changed tactics. After serving, he went straight to the net, trying to break Mochizuki Ryo's rhythm with a volley.
But Mochizuki Ryo's return shot still landed precisely on his backhand baseline. The ball had a lot of spin, bounced up and then curved outwards, making it impossible for him to reach it at the net.
The ball flew past him, landed inside the baseline, bounced twice, and rolled to the edge of the net.
"40-0".
Niou sat up slightly from the recliner, a hint of worry flashing in his fox-like eyes. "This isn't good. If our serve gets broken, it'll be even harder to play from here on out."
Yagyu adjusted his glasses. "It's not 'if,' it's 'already.'"
Sanada sat in the referee's chair, his dark eyes beneath the brim of his hat fixed on the field. His expression remained unchanged, but the fingers gripping the scoreboard tightened considerably.
Kirihara stood there, panting, his black curly hair soaked with sweat and plastered to his forehead.
He had already used his strongest serve, but still hadn't scored a single point.
The fourth ball.
Kirihara took a deep breath and tossed the ball up. This time, instead of using the riot serve, he switched to a regular flat serve. The ball speed was not fast, but the landing point was tricky, aiming at the outer corner line.
Mochizuki Ryo took a step and returned the ball with her forehand, which landed in Kirihara's deep forehand area.
Kirihara ran over and unleashed a powerful flat forehand shot. The ball was incredibly fast, flying towards Mochizuki Ryo's backhand with a whistling sound.
Mochizuki Ryo turned to the side and gently blocked with her backhand, using the force of the ball to hit it back, which landed in Kirihara's open space.
His movements were concise and efficient, without any unnecessary force. Every return shot precisely targeted Kirihara's technical weaknesses.
Backhand position, baseline deep area, body position.
Kirihara was like a puppet on strings, forced to run endlessly around the court. He tried his best, but he could never hit a high-quality return.
Sweat trickled down his cheeks, dripping onto the field and quickly evaporating.
"Game, Mochizuki Ryo. 1-0."
After Sanada's voice faded, there was a moment of silence on the sidelines.
Marui's potato chip lingered at his lips, he forgot to chew, his purple eyes fixed on the court, his voice a little dry, "Kirihara's serve... is over?"
Kuwabara nodded and placed the genmaicha teapot he was holding on the table next to him.
"Um."
"So fast?" Marui's eyes widened in disbelief. "I only ate three potato chips."
Niou got up completely from the recliner, put his arm on the back of the chair, looked at the court, and said in a tone that sounded like he was joking, but there was no smile in his eyes.
"Puri~ Akaya didn't get a single point."
"That's the difference." Yagyu's gaze fell on the blond boy on the court.
"This week, we tried to break Akaya's full-power, furious serve in practice matches, but we failed. We never expected that this flawless serve would be completely ineffective against Mochizuki Ryo."
Liu glanced at the timer in her hand, the pen tip gliding quickly across the paper, making a rustling sound.
"The first game lasted 1 minute and 20 seconds, which was faster than expected."
"Akaya served four times, scoring zero points. Mochizuki Ryo returned four times, scoring four points directly. Serving return success rate 100%, scoring conversion rate 100%."
He closed his notebook, glanced at Yukimura, and said, "The data is terrifying."
Yukimura's fingers tightened slightly as he gripped the cup, water droplets sliding down his fingertips and dripping onto the back of his hand, bringing a touch of coolness.
His gaze never left Wang Yueling. The boy stood on the court, as if he were born to be a king.
Sunlight fell on his blond hair, outlining his tall and straight figure. His expression was calm, even somewhat nonchalant. It was as if this match was nothing more than a game of pretend play for him.
This person is much stronger than he imagined.
It's not the kind of strength that relies on special moves or explosive power, but the kind of strength that comes from mastering the basic techniques to the extreme, making everything seem effortless.
Every shot was clean and crisp, every landing point precise to the millimeter. There were no superfluous movements, no wasted energy.
Such skill has never been seen before in the world of junior high school tennis in Japan.
Yukimura put down his cup, a hint of seriousness appearing in his blue eyes.
"Let's keep watching."
On the field.
Kirihara stood at the baseline, panting heavily, sweat streaming down his face. He looked down at his trembling hands, not from fear, but from the muscle reaction of overexertion.
He didn't swing his racket or stomp his feet like he used to. He just gripped his racket tightly, looked at the opponent, took a deep breath, and exhaled.
Wang Yueling stood at the service line, ball in hand, waiting for him. Her expression was calm, without mockery or contempt, just a gentle "I'm waiting for you to get ready" look.
Kirihara gripped his racket tightly and nodded. "Senpai, it's your turn to serve."
The second game, served by Mochizuki Ryo.
His serve was ordinary. It lacked impressive speed and strong spin; it was just a basic flat serve.
But every single ball landed precisely in the millimeter-dead corner of the sideline or baseline.
Kirihara skillfully used basic single-leg shuffling steps to run at full speed, his shoes screeching against the ground. His breathing became increasingly rapid, and sweat soaked the curly hair on his forehead.
But he was never able to mount an effective attack.
Ryo Mochizuki's returns were always perfectly timed. Not too close for him to easily smash, nor too far for him to miss. They were positioned just right, requiring him to run at full speed to reach the ball.
He was like a seasoned hunter, patiently wearing down his prey's strength.
"Game, Mochizuki Ryo. 2-0."
Kirihara, supporting himself on his knees, gasped for breath. He looked up at Mochizuki Ryo across from him.
The person remained firmly standing at the baseline, their breathing steady and not a drop of sweat on their face.
Kirihara gritted his teeth.
He won't give up so easily.
He still has a trump card up his sleeve.
……
Watching this scene from the sidelines, Kuwabara sighed softly, "Akaya really gave it his all today."
Marui poured some tea, washed his hands, and nodded. "Yes. If it were before, being ordered around like this and exhausting himself like this would have made him panic long ago. It seems that Ling has really given him a shock."
Niou leaned back in his recliner, watching Kirihara, who was bent over and panting on the court, his little braid twirling between his fingers. "Puri~ It's not just about excitement. The tactical training plan that Mochizuki Ryo gave him is very targeted. In this month, Akaya's stamina and defensive awareness have improved a lot."
"However... why does it feel like Akaya's stamina is being depleted faster than usual?"
Yagyu adjusted his glasses. "It's not that I'm exhausted quickly, it's that my opponent is too good. He has to give it his all to receive every ball. This kind of high-intensity running takes several times more energy than usual."
Liu opened her notebook.
"According to the data, Kirihara's movement speed increased by 12%, his physical reserves increased by 20%, and his backhand stability increased by 35% after the training camp."
He paused, looked up, and glanced at the young boy on the field, who was covered in sweat and still running desperately. His eyes were full of satisfaction.
"These things can't be achieved through talent alone. Akaya works very hard."
Marui pulled out a piece of chewing gum and put it in his mouth, his purple eyes fixed on the court.
"Do you think Akaya can get at least one point?"
Kuwabara thought for a moment, then shook his head. "It's difficult."
Niou tilted his head, took a pudding under Marui's glare, and took a bite. "Puri~ It's not just hard, it's almost impossible. That guy Ryo hasn't even broken a sweat yet."
Yagyu glanced at him sideways. "You're quite observant."
"Of course." Niou swallowed the pudding in his mouth, smiled, and his braid swayed behind his shoulder. "Know yourself and know your enemy. Although we can't beat him, at least we should know just how strong he is."
Yukimura held his teacup, listening to his teammates chatter, a smile playing on his lips.
His gaze was fixed on the court; Mochizuki Ryo remained relaxed, his breathing steady, and even his forehead was dry.
But Yukimura noticed a detail.
Every time Kirihara hits a good shot, Mochizuki Ryo's eyes would light up, and then she would nod slightly. The movement was so subtle that it was almost imperceptible unless you looked closely.
But Yukimura saw it.
This person may have a sharp tongue, but he actually cares a lot. He cares about Kirihara's progress and the growth of every excellent player.
Yukimura put down his cup and smiled.