For several days, Byoudouin remained absent.

As a result, rumors about his condition—even whether he was still alive—became a hot topic among the U-17 high schoolers.

Ishikawa paid no attention to the gossip. As long as Byoudouin wasn't dead, that was enough. After all, in the original storyline, this was a man who had survived being struck by lightning and even declared dead by doctors before reviving.

As Coach Mifune put it: As long as the flame of life still burns, Byoudouin will rise again.

To Ishikawa, this "flame of life" was simply a manifestation of sheer willpower—an unbreakable resolve, whether it was refusing to lose, leading his team forward, or becoming a professional player.

For Byoudouin, whose mental fortitude was already monstrous, neither victory nor defeat could shake his conviction. But there had to be something that could influence him—otherwise, tennis would hold no meaning for him.

As for Ishikawa himself, he spent these past few days consolidating the power he'd gained from comprehending [Ālaya Vijñāna]. After intense training, he had fully absorbed this newfound strength.

However, this ultimate power was a forbidden technique—one he wouldn't use unless absolutely necessary.

Compared to the mysterious and dangerous Ālaya Vijñāna, abilities like [Sword Intent] were far more suitable for development. Unlike tennis techniques, special abilities couldn't be enhanced with skill points.

At this stage, Ishikawa, like everyone else, had to refine these abilities through relentless effort. Fortunately, with his breakthrough in mental strength and the heightened perception from his mastery of Go, his progress would be much faster than others.

He had a feeling that soon, his special abilities would reach a new level.

But this morning, after finishing his usual training routine, Ishikawa changed clothes and went to the second-floor office to request leave from the three coaches.

"Leaving already?" Tokugawa raised an eyebrow. "Given your current condition, your physical stats still have room for improvement."

"A few days won't make a difference," Ishikawa replied with a smile. "Besides, I promised the tennis club's coach and seniors I'd return after a month."

"Fine." Tokugawa nodded. "With your discipline and judgment, you won't slack off no matter where you are."

"Come back soon," Saitou added with a grin.

"Mm." Ishikawa glanced at Kurobe, exchanging a silent nod before turning to leave.

"Ah, what a good kid," Saitou sighed as he watched Ishikawa's retreating figure. "It's rare to find someone so strong, talented, and still polite."

"True." Tokugawa agreed.

Given Ishikawa's status, he didn't have to inform them before leaving. Back in the day, Byoudouin never even acknowledged them.

"Hm?" Noticing Kurobe's thoughtful expression, Saitou tilted his head. "What's wrong? Weren't you the one who kept trying to drill manners into Byoudouin?"

"Don't you think it's strange?" Kurobe mused, gazing at Ishikawa's distant figure. "From the day of the match until now, he's never once asked about Byoudouin's condition."

"Now that you mention it…" Saitou frowned. "You think…?"

"He probably already figured it out," Kurobe said, narrowing his eyes.

"Well, that's no fun," Saitou groaned, waving a hand dismissively. "I was looking forward to surprising him."

Kurobe ignored him and changed the subject. "It's about time we sent out the invitations to those fledglings."

"Oh?"

Saitou and Tokugawa exchanged glances before grinning mischievously.

Meanwhile…

After leaving U-17, Ishikawa took a train back to Tokyo.

He'd only informed Marui and Genichirou of his departure, along with the three coaches—more as a formality. As the No. 1 and a key figure in U-17's order, he was expected to join the team for overseas expeditions when necessary.

This trip wouldn't be long.

Besides, he had a feeling the middle schoolers would soon receive their invitations to U-17.

10:00 AM – Hyotei Academy

A month had passed since Ishikawa left. Summer break was over, and classes had resumed.

Since it wasn't club activity time yet, the tennis courts were empty. With nothing else to do, Ishikawa wandered the campus.

Peeking into classrooms, he saw front-row students diligently studying while those in the back passed notes.

"Even in a prestigious school, there are slackers," he mused with a chuckle.

Just as he was about to head back to the tennis club, he heard a commotion near the restrooms.

"P-Please! I already gave all my money to Akutsu-senpai!"

"Akutsu?" A rough voice sneered. "That bastard's stealing our business now?"

"Hurry up, hand it over! Next semester, Ryouya's taking over as the middle school boss—once he replaces Atobe, no one'll dare mess with you!"

"Interesting." Ishikawa shook his head.

Even in an elite school, delinquents existed. Wealth didn't eliminate hierarchy—and where there was hierarchy, there were power struggles.

Atobe had been an exception, single-handedly suppressing all dissent. But now that he was leaving, the suppressed tensions were boiling over.

Just as Ishikawa was about to intervene, a familiar figure approached from the opposite hallway.

Spiky silver-white hair. A wild, untamed glare. Pale, almost sickly skin.

An unmistakable aura of danger.

Akutsu Jin.

"Well, this just got interesting."

As expected, Akutsu entered the restroom, and a scuffle broke out. Moments later, a group of dyed-haired boys scrambled out, howling in pain.

One had a bloody nose, his face swollen like a balloon.

"Run! This guy's insane!"

"Never mess with him again!"

They fled in terror. Shortly after, a shorter boy—one eye bruised—emerged, clutching his bag.

Akutsu followed, wiping his hands.

"T-Thank you, senpai!" The boy bowed deeply.

"Tch." Akutsu scoffed. "If you don't wanna get bullied, toughen up. You're too damn short."

"Senpai…" The boy grimaced. "I tried joining clubs, but no one would take me because of my height."

Akutsu paused.

The kid reminded him of his old underling at Yamabuki. He wondered if the boy was still getting pushed around after he left.

That was why he'd stepped in this time.

But as he'd said—he couldn't protect the kid forever.

"Hey."

A voice interrupted his thoughts. "If you want to join a club, try the tennis team."

"Huh?" The boy blinked. "Who are you—?"

"You're back?" Akutsu's voice cut in, sharp as a blade.

The boy froze.

Akutsu's entire demeanor had shifted—his presence now suffocating, like a beast baring its fangs.

"G-Gulp." The boy swallowed hard.

This… This is Akutsu-senpai's real aura?!

But what shocked him more was the stranger's reaction—completely unfazed, smiling as if nothing was wrong.

"Senpai," the stranger said, shaking his head. "I thought you'd stopped this kind of thing after transferring. But I guess if you're taking money, you'd better do the job right."

"Is he crazy?!" The boy's eyes widened.

Akutsu hated being told what to do. People who tried usually ended up worse off than the guys who'd just fled.

But to his shock, Akutsu didn't explode. Instead, his glare deepened.

"I do what I want. Don't lecture me."

"Wait, no!" The boy quickly intervened. "Akutsu-senpai didn't take my money! He just told me to use his name if I got into trouble!"

"Oh?" Ishikawa raised an eyebrow.

Akutsu—helping someone?

"Hey, senpai." Ishikawa grinned. "Feel like a match?"

Akutsu's foot, mid-step, halted.

The boy gasped as Akutsu's aura surged—like a sleeping predator awakening.

Hyotei Tennis Courts

The usually empty courts now echoed with the sound of rapid-fire exchanges.

Two figures darted across the court, their movements almost inhuman. The boy watching from the sidelines could barely keep up.

"T-This is tennis?!"

The sheer intensity was overwhelming—every shot carried enough force to send dust flying, like a battlefield in motion.

Thwack!

Ishikawa's racket flashed.

The ball bulleted toward Akutsu, landing perfectly on the baseline before rocketing into the wall—spinning violently even after impact.

"Incredible…" The boy whispered.

The match was unlike anything he'd ever seen.

"Senpai," Ishikawa called, smirking. "Enough warm-up. Let's get serious."

"W-Warm-up?!" The boy's jaw dropped.

But Akutsu didn't deny it. Instead, his stance shifted—preparing for the real fight.

And for the first time, the boy noticed something unsettling.

Behind Akutsu's fierce expression…

Was that… fear?