The atmosphere in the Grand Zenith shifted from a bunker to a high-pressure valve. The "United Front" was back, but this time, the enemy wasn't their father—it was someone who played the game better than they did.
Shino was at the center of the living room, her face illuminated by the harsh blue light of a projected email. It had no subject line. No text. Just a single video file attached.
"I’ve scrubbed the metadata," Shino said, her voice unusually tight. "It was sent from a burner server in Northern Academy's jurisdiction. They aren't hiding who they are."
She hit Play.
The video was crisp, high-definition footage from the abandoned cannery. It showed Mikoto on the cracked court, moving with a fluid, terrifying speed. It showed him coaching Karen, his hand on her shoulder, his mouth moving as he dismantled her technique. Then, the camera zoomed in on Mikoto’s face—clear, recognizable, and undeniably the "Ghost" of the Junior Circuit.
The video cut to a close-up of a girl sitting in a leather chair. Ren Kurosawa. She had sharp, fox-like eyes and a smile that didn't reach her pupils. She was spinning a tennis ball on her index finger.
"Hello, Karen. Hello... Ghost," Ren’s voice was like silk over sandpaper. "I see you've been busy playing 'Rocky' in the slums. It’s a touching story. Truly. But the University Board has very strict rules about 'Professional Consultation' during the blackout period. One click, and the 'Iron Ace' is disqualified. One click, and the Ghost is banned from every court in the country."
She leaned forward, her eyes locking onto the camera.
"But I like a challenge. I don't want a forfeit. I want to see the Kodakawa pride crumble on center court. So, here is the deal: Mikoto Asada will be my personal ball-boy during the televised warm-ups at Nationals. He will stand in the corner, he will fetch my misses, and he will show the world exactly where a 'failure' belongs. Do this, and the footage disappears. Refuse... and I’ll make sure the 'Ghost' finally fades away for good."
The screen went black.
"I'm going to kill her," Karen whispered, her hand trembling so hard she dropped her water bottle. "I'm going to find her and I'm going to—"
"No," Mikoto said. He was standing by the window, looking at the city lights. His watch was silent. His heart rate hadn't spiked. Instead, he felt a cold, crystalline focus. "She wants a psychological edge. She thinks that by humiliating me, she breaks you. She thinks I’m your weakness, Karen."
"You aren't a weakness!" Marin cried out, standing up. "You're the reason we're even standing!"
"Then let's use that," Mikoto said, turning around. "Ren wants a 'ball-boy.' She wants the world to see the 'Ghost' at her feet. So, I’ll give her exactly what she asked for. I’ll stand on that court. I’ll fetch her balls."
"Mikoto, you can't!" Shino protested. "The physiological toll of being back in that stadium, under those lights, being mocked by a rival... you'll have a total systemic collapse."
"Not if it’s a performance," Mikoto said, looking at Marin. "Marin, you taught me that a mask can be a shield. If I'm 'acting' the part of the broken servant, she can't get under my skin. And while she's busy gloating over me..."
He turned back to Karen.
"You're going to use that time to map her serve. Every toss, every flick of her wrist. I'll be three feet away from her. I'll see everything. Every ball I pick up, I'll be looking for the tell. By the time the actual match starts, she won't be playing against a 'Prodigy.' She'll be playing against a girl who already knows every move she's going to make."
"It's too dangerous," Karen said, her eyes filling with tears. "I can't watch them do that to you."
"You won't be watching," Mikoto said, stepping forward and taking her hand. "You'll be winning. For the first time, Karen, don't play for your father. Don't play for the brand. Play for the guy who's fetching the balls."
Karen looked at him, her "Iron" facade finally melting into something human, something fierce. She squeezed his hand back.
"I'll destroy her, Mikoto. I'll make her wish she never heard the name Asada."
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and then Add to home screen.