My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As Expected

Page 26

Yukino's department is unusual, and almost no one knows her true nature. Moreover, her beauty and the air of mystery surrounding her make her seem unapproachable. Talking to her is less terrifying and more like doing something you shouldn't.

So Yuihama, who easily broke this taboo, was indeed incredibly courageous, and also because she was incredibly stupid.

But her straightforward and honest personality, along with her frank gentleness, touched Yukinoshita. No one but Yui could have dragged Yukinoshita here. For the sake of the strong-willed Yuii, Yukinoshita is fighting with all her might. If I were to ask her for help, she probably wouldn't agree.

Before long, the score gap was closed.

Yukinoshita moved across the court like a fairy, her footwork a dance, the best performance on the stage. As for me, a mere extra, I could only offer feeble counterattacks occasionally. Every time I swung my racket, the audience's eyes seemed to say, "Get out of the way," which was truly hurtful.

Now it's Yukino's turn to serve again, and the audience's expectations have finally been met.

She gripped the tennis ball tightly and tossed it high into the air. The ball seemed to be sucked into the blue sky, veering off course towards the center of the court, far from where it lay beneath the snow.

At that moment, everyone thought she had made a mistake.

But they began running beneath the snow.

She stepped out with her right foot, then her left, and finally pushed off with both feet. Her steps were so light and quick, like a staccato melody.

She leaped gracefully into the air, like a soaring eagle, leaving every spectator deeply moved. It was a pure beauty, and incredibly fast. No one dared to blink, wanting only to etch this moment forever into their memory.

*Thud*—the sound was exceptionally loud. The tennis ball had rolled to the ground, but I, the audience, Hayama, and Miura were all frozen in place.

"...Jump serve."

I was almost stunned; Yukina's unprecedented actions left me speechless. Not only had she single-handedly caught up, but she was now leading by two points. Just one more point and we would win.

"You're too strong; you can easily take the victory this way."

I frankly expressed my inner thoughts, but Yukinoshita frowned.

"I really want to... but it's too late now."

Just as I was about to ask her what was wrong, Hayama was already preparing to serve.

It doesn't matter, as long as she hits an ace, we'll win. I wasn't being careless; I simply believed we would win, so I calmly waited for her serve.

Hayama appeared dejected; his serves were not as powerful as before, merely average serves with slightly faster ball speeds.

The ball flew between me and Yukina.

"Under the Snow".

I handed the ball to Yukinoshita to deal with, but she didn't make any move. As a result, the ball bounced listlessly between us with a "bang".

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Hachiman, may I boast a little?"

"What's wrong? And what happened to that ball just now?" J Yukinoshita ignored my questions, sighed, and sat down on the court.

"I've always been able to learn everything quickly since I was a child, but I haven't been able to stick with anything for long."

"What nonsense are you spouting all of a sudden?"

"Someone once taught me to play tennis, but I beat him after only three days of instruction. Most sports—no, not just sports, but also things like music—I can learn them in just three days."

"Isn't this a disguised form of giving up halfway? No, you're actually showing off! What are you trying to say?"

"...The only thing I'm not confident about is my physical strength."

Bang—the tennis ball bounced weakly past the snow beside me.

It seems too late to say this now.

Yukinoshita is practically omnipotent, so she has never persisted in anything or maintained perseverance. This has resulted in her being extremely lacking in physical strength, to the point that it has become her fatal weakness. Therefore, during lunch break practice, she was merely observing from the sidelines. A little thought reveals that this makes perfect sense. If you want to become stronger, you will practice; with enough practice, your physical strength will naturally improve. But if you are already proficient in all eighteen martial arts from the start, you won't practice consistently, and your physical strength will never improve.

"Wait a minute, you're speaking so loudly..."

I looked at Hayama and Miura, and sure enough, the Beast Queen revealed a ferocious smile.

"I heard everything!"

Miura's tone was aggressive, as if he wanted to vent his pent-up anger, and Hayama laughed beside him.

The situation is terrible. We had only been in the lead for a short time, and then the score was tied again.

Our group of newbies has slightly different rules. Once we enter the deuce phase, we have to win when one side is two points ahead.

Yukinoshita, whose stamina was completely depleted, was unable to continue, and the opposing team knew this. Previous matches had proven that my serves were ineffective against them. Even when I served a good ball, they would easily return it.

"You guys were so arrogant just now, now you're out of luck, aren't you?"

Faced with Miura's provocation, I had nothing to say. Yukinoshita was no longer able to participate in the match, and was even so exhausted that she swayed back and forth and dozed off. Are you Hiei?

Miura let out a strange, chuckling laugh from deep within her throat, looking at us with disdain. She was pondering how to deal with us, her eyes like a snake's. So, where exactly did you come from, you giant python?

Hayama sensed something was wrong and tried to ease the tension.

"Everyone has already worked so hard, there's no need to take it too seriously. Everyone had a lot of fun, so the match is a draw, right?"

"What nonsense are you talking about, Hayato? A match is all about making decisive moves!"

In other words, Miura wants to defeat us and rightfully take the tennis court from Totsuka. But her use of the phrase "made a decisive move" is terrifying... Will I be punished? No, I'm terrified of pain.

Just as I was observing how the situation would develop, I heard a click of the tongue from the side.

"Can you please be quiet?"

Yukinoshita's voice sounded very displeased. Before Miura could retort, she continued:

"This guy will win, you guys should just admit defeat."

Everyone doubted whether they had misheard, including me, and I was the most surprised person.

All eyes turned to me. In the past, my presence or absence made little difference, and I was even questioned about why I was even there. Suddenly, my value as a person increased dramatically.

I made eye contact with the timber pedestal. Why are you giving me a thumbs up?

I made eye contact with Totsuka. What are you expecting?

I made eye contact with Yuihama. Don't cheer me on so loudly, it's so embarrassing!

I made eye contact with Yukino, then she turned her head away and tossed the ball to me.

"You know what? I can swear and say really nasty things, but I never lie."

The wind stopped, so I heard that sentence very clearly.

Yes, I know. Only I and they are the ones who lie.

× × ×

In the almost unnatural silence, the only sound was the "thump, thump" of tennis balls hitting the ground.

In this unique tension, I focused my consciousness into the deepest part of my heart.

I can do it, I can do it—I must believe that to myself. No, I must believe in myself.

Because I will not lose.

Campus life was full of sadness, pain, and unpleasant things; there wasn't a single good thing. But I still got through it all alone. I endured those miserable and dreary years of youth all by myself. So how could I possibly lose to someone who received so much support along the way?

Lunch break is coming to an end.

At this time of day, I should be next to the infirmary in front of the tennis court, having just finished my lunch.

The place and time when Yuihama spoke to me, the place where I first talked to Totsuka, flashed through my mind.

I focused my attention on my ears.

Now I can no longer hear Miura's sarcasm or the clamor of the audience.

call out……

I heard it. For a whole year, I'm probably the only one who heard that sound.

In that instant, I served the ball.

This shot was weak and lacked power, and even felt somewhat floaty.

I saw Miura rush over excitedly, and Hayama quickly came to her aid. I also saw the disappointed expressions on the faces of the audience, and Totsuka lowered his gaze slightly. I ignored Zaimokuza's clenched fists and met Yuihama's gaze as she clasped her hands in prayer. Finally, what I saw was Yukinoshita's triumphant smile.

The tennis ball lacked power, leaving a weak trajectory.

"OK!"

Miura made a snake-like sound as he arrived at the ball's landing point.

Just then, a gust of wind blew up.

Miura, you probably don't know this.

Every afternoon, a unique sea breeze blows near Zongwu High School.

The ball, affected by the sea breeze, changed direction drastically, veering off from Miura's position and landing on the edge of the court. However, Hayama had already run towards it.

Hayama, you probably don't know either.

This gust of wind blew more than once.

Only I, who spent the past year there alone, without speaking to anyone, in quietude, know this. Only the wind understands my loneliness and that silent time.

This is a "magic ball" that no one else but me can hit.

The ball bounced up and was changed direction again by a second gust of wind.

Thump—the tennis ball landed in the corner of the court and rolled out of bounds.

Everyone fell silent, their ears perked up and their eyes wide open.

"Oh right, I've heard of it... the legendary technique that allows one to freely manipulate the wind, 'Eulen Sylpheed, the Successor of the Wind'!"

Only the woodworker spouts nonsense; he's utterly clueless.

Please don't pick random names, okay? You've ruined the atmosphere.

“How is it possible…”

Miura muttered to himself in astonishment, and the audience began to squeak, eventually escalating into shouts of "A prank by a wind spirit?" "A prank by a wind spirit!" Please, don't take it seriously.

"I lost... It really is the 'Moneyball'."

Hayama smiled at me, as if I were an old friend. Looking at his smile, I could only grip the tennis ball tightly and stand still.

Because I really don't know what to say.

As a result, I blurted out something completely unfounded.

"Hayama, did you play baseball when you were a kid?"

"Yes, I do it quite often. Why do you ask?"

Hayama seemed surprised by the sudden question, but he answered me anyway. Perhaps he really is a good person.

"How many of you are fighting?"

"Huh? Baseball requires a full team of eighteen players, right?"

"That's true... but I often play baseball alone."

"Huh? What does that mean?"

Even if I explained it to you, you wouldn't understand.

And that's not the only thing.

Can you understand the pain of cycling to and from school alone in the sweltering heat of summer and the freezing cold of winter? You guys just get together and talk about how hot it is, how cold it is, and how unbelievable it is to try and change the subject, but I endured it all by myself.

Can you understand how you can't confirm the exam scope with anyone, and can only silently bury yourself in your studies, bearing the horror of the exam results alone? You guys just get together to check answers, compare scores, and laugh at each other for being stupid or a bookworm to escape reality, but I face it all alone.

How about that? That's my resilience.

I enthusiastically assumed the serving stance.

I bent my body, as if drawing a bow before shooting an arrow, then tossed the tennis ball high into the air, gripping the racket tightly with both hands and pulling it behind my neck.

The azure sky, the soon-to-end spring, and the approaching early summer—I want to banish them all far, far away.

"Damn youth"

I swung the falling ball upwards with all my might.

The ball struck the hardest part of the racket frame with a "click" sound, and then flew upwards as if it were being sucked into the blue sky.

The ball flew higher and higher, until it became a tiny dot, smaller than a grain of rice, in the distance.

"That, that's... 'Meteor Strike, the God of Destruction Soaring Through the Skies'!"