Chapter 4

The three of them spent the entire day roughly clearing out the courtyard. The path leading to the front yard began to take shape—it was safe to say they had made great progress.

The cost, however, was that they went out in the morning clean and tidy, only to return as a trio of little ruffians, accompanied by a cat whose contribution to cleanliness was zero.

When their father and mother saw the three covered in grass juice and mud, they were taken aback.

With a voice weaker than if she had worked five days straight, the eldest daughter said, “Dad, Mom, we’re back.”

Her mother was the first to react, calmly telling her daughter, “Suiko, you’re grown up now; don’t roll around on the ground like your brothers.”

“???”, Suiko blinked in confusion.

Renji and Hizuki also exchanged puzzled looks.

The three felt wrongly accused.

Before they could say anything, their mother subtly stepped back and spoke gently, “You’ve worked hard today. Go take a bath; you’ll feel better afterward.”

The siblings thought, Mom, are you serious about stepping back like that?

“Also, give Summerflower a wash too. Don’t let her down for now,” she added, stepping away with a pace that looked elegant but was actually hurried.

The big ginger cat in Renji’s arms had black paw pads, its pink tongue still licking its dirty fur.

The three humans looked at each other, while the cat remained oblivious.

It was obvious—they had been rejected.

“Don’t mind it, Hizuki. Aunt Liu just likes things clean,” their father explained.

Hizuki smiled awkwardly. “I understand.”

Suiko was dissatisfied with such differential treatment. “What about Renji and me? Dad, won’t you comfort our wounded hearts?!”

Just as she was about to sit down, a sharp command halted her: “Don’t move!”

“W-what’s wrong?” Suiko froze in place.

“The sofa is hard to clean,” her father said coldly.

“Oh,” she replied with equal coldness.

Hizuki felt guilty inside but really wanted to laugh.

The three took turns washing themselves clean, completing a grueling cat-washing operation. If someone didn’t know better, they might think a cat massacre was underway—heartbreaking to hear, amusing to watch.

After dinner, Hizuki went to his room to pack. Tomorrow was Monday, and he had to report to school.

With Renji around, he wasn’t nervous about facing a new environment. However, there was one small complaint.

“Get up at 6:20?!” Hizuki’s bright eyes showed disbelief as he humbly asked, “Isn’t school at Rikkai University Junior High supposed to start at 8:30?”

Renji explained, “The tennis club has morning training. I’ve already taken two days off, but I can’t be late tomorrow. If you don’t want to come, you’ll have to go to school by yourself.”

Remembering that Renji had taken leave to help him, Hizuki lost his confidence and said, “Alright then.”

Renji smirked slightly and went back to busying himself with a tablet.

“What are you doing?” Hizuki asked curiously, since it didn’t look like homework.

“It’s the tennis club’s new training menu.”

Hizuki then learned that Rikkai’s tennis club rotated training plans weekly, and training varied by individual.

More dauntingly, the intensity rivaled the physical training classes he had sneaked into with his cousin’s group.

He glanced again and remarked, “No wonder you guys can win championships.”

“Of course—we’re aiming for a national three-peat,” Renji suddenly recalled something and paused before adding, “There are no weak points in Rikkai’s victories.”

His tone was calm, but anyone could hear the unshakable determination behind it.

Akira Echizen was like this, and so was Renji... A glimpse revealed the exceptional cohesion of Rikkai’s tennis club and their resolve to fight for the same belief.

“I believe in you,” Hizuki smiled. “Renji always strives for perfection in everything—tennis must be no exception. Actually, probably even more.”

After all, Renji truly loved tennis.

*

The next day, the two boys boarded a bus and arrived at Rikkai University Junior High after twenty minutes.

At the school gate, Hizuki spotted a familiar seaweed-like hairstyle. Akira Echizen was crouching, eyes darting here and there, sneaking around like a school ghost, only to be met with a stern scolding.

A tall, stern-faced boy harshly reprimanded Akira for his sneaky demeanor and then criticized his crookedly tied tie for lack of seriousness.

Poor Akira was scolded like a quail and had to fumble awkwardly to fix his tie.

Hizuki said, “Oh no, Echizen-kun’s facing the black-faced demon again.”

Renji hesitated, unsure, “Black-faced demon?”

Hizuki had no reply.

Without needing him to answer, Renji, with his high intelligence and gathered info, concluded, “You mean Sanada? Who even said that about him?”

He was sweating bullets.

Feeling guilty, Hizuki glanced at the person who had become the center of attention at the school gate. Though subtle, Renji caught it.

“Is it Akira?”

It was a statement, not a question.

Sorry, Echizen-kun, I’ve betrayed your trust!

Hizuki quickly added, “Actually, Echizen-kun respects Sanada a lot; he just has a unique way of showing it.”

It was true. Even though Akira often acted rebellious, he felt a filial-like admiration toward his tennis seniors, especially toward the strict Sanada.

Besides, “Akira told me he really likes you,” so you can’t report on him.

Renji understood the implication and casually said, “Oh.”

Meanwhile, the two reached the school gate.

Sanada’s sharp gaze pierced them. “Why aren’t you wearing the school uniform?”

The boy looked mature, his tone severe and authoritative—the kind that terrifies teenagers.

But Hizuki was fearless. Other than an empty wallet, nothing could shake his heart.

“Because I just transferred today and haven’t gotten my uniform yet.”

Sanada’s expression softened, but it didn’t matter. His imposing presence still intimidated people, making them avoid eye contact or even take detours.

Sanada nodded at him and said, “Welcome to Rikkai, Hizuki-san.”

The black-haired boy smiled with eyes curved. “Thank you. But, Sanada-kun, how do you know me?”

Actually, Hizuki knew the answer: probably because of Renji.

Sanada’s gaze flickered slightly. “Akira told us about meeting you yesterday.”

Hizuki felt a bit uneasy and cautiously asked, “What did Akira say?”

Thinking of Akira’s rambling nonsense, Sanada decided to skip the details: “He said you helped him. As his senior, I want to thank you.”

Hizuki remained skeptical but waved it off. “It’s nothing—we just happened to meet.”

Renji checked the time. “Morning training starts in ten minutes. Let’s go. Akira, come with us.”

Sanada agreed.

Only after leaving far behind did Akira finally relax and speak cheerily, first expressing gratitude to “Senior Liu, you’re really a good person,” then curiously asking, “Senior Hizuki, are you here to check out the tennis club?”

Hizuki thought for a moment. “Hmm, something like that.”

“Do you play tennis too?” The seaweed-haired childhood friend redefined the term. “Since you and Senior Liu are so close, you must be really good. Can you play a match with me?”

His tone was eager.

Wow, what a logically flawed deduction!

Hizuki ruthlessly shattered his fantasy. “Sorry, Echizen-kun, I don’t play tennis at all.”

Then he pretended to be surprised and covered his mouth, “Oh no, does that mean I can’t be Renji’s best friend anymore? How sad.”

Akira was dumbfounded by the combo, scratching his head before looking toward Renji, who had just issued the “good person” card. “Is that true?”

Renji: “...” As if that’s any of my business.

Childhood friends are such a headache.

The junior’s naivety was even worse.

Though thinking that, Renji played along, “No, whether or not you play tennis, you’re still my best friend.”

“Wow, I’m so touched,” Hizuki wiped away imaginary tears.

Akira felt compelled to say something. After thinking for two seconds, he said, “Senior Hizuki, no matter if you can play tennis or not, you’re the senior I respect most!”

“And what about your Senior Liu?”

“Uh...”

“And what about Senior Yukimura?”

Akira blushed deeply. “They’re all number one!”

After saying that, he glanced at Renji, who showed no special reaction, easing his embarrassment a little.

Hizuki gave Renji a “See? I told you so” look, then turned back to tease the seaweed-headed junior: “Echizen-kun’s ‘number ones’ are so many, they’re cheap.”

“Eh?!”

“B-but... I... you...” Akira’s mind was in turmoil.

“Just kidding, I’m happy,” Hizuki praised, “Echizen-kun, you’re a good kid.”

Akira’s large, clear blue eyes tinted with shyness. “Hehe, I’m not that good~ Senior Hizuki, let me show you around. If you want to learn tennis, I can teach you!”

“No,” Renji pulled a sheet from his folder. “This is your training menu for the week. If you double it, you’ll need to hurry to finish.”

Akira: “...” Almost forgot he was punished with double training by Vice Captain Sanada.

Life’s so tough.

Hizuki sympathized deeply with Akira. Just last night, he watched Renji add, add, add to that training list—heartlessly and steadily. Hizuki nearly suspected the seaweed-headed boy had offended his childhood friend.

Hating physical training, he deeply empathized at this moment.

“Echizen-kun, completing this training will bring you one step closer to defeating the three giants!”

Pure-hearted and passionate, Akira’s eyes blazed with fire. “Oh—!”

Renji, one of the three giants, thought: “Could you not say that in front of people?”

When they reached the tennis club, Hizuki, who claimed to be there for a tour, didn’t enter the court. Instead, he found a large tree, sat down at its base, resting his back against the trunk and propping his face with his hands as he watched the young athletes sweat and practice.

Soon, drowsiness swept over him; his eyelids began to droop uncontrollably.

The fresh morning air and gentle sunlight, even the sounds of the boys training, became a soothing white noise.