Chiba Municipal Sobu High School. Lunch break had long since ended, and the afternoon classes had already begun.
The missing girl had returned.
She expressed her gratitude and apologies to those who were worried, explaining that she had suddenly remembered something important and had to rush back to her apartment.
Of course, one girl claimed to have seen her disappear with her own eyes, but she insisted it was an illusion—a misunderstanding caused by Yui Yuigahama's imagination.
She even sincerely apologized for pushing Yui down earlier.
It was simply that she'd been too worried about the snow sprite back at the apartment—she had forgotten to prepare its lunch. In her rush to get back, she accidentally shoved Yui.
Now, it was time for P.E. class in the afternoon. The activities were tennis and soccer.
Someone, citing health reasons, was excused from strenuous activity, meaning he didn't have to participate. That gave him the perfect chance to do what he wanted with his free time.
Sitting on a grassy slope under the warm sunlight and gentle breeze, he was fully absorbed in his sketching.
For someone who, less than an hour ago, had experienced something on the scale of world destruction—an event that would seem mythological to any normal person—he had already tossed it aside like it was ancient history.
He wasn't thinking about it at all.
Suddenly, he frowned. The previously quiet area had become noisy.
Sensing something, he looked up—only to see a green tennis ball enlarging in his vision before it smacked him in the side of the face.
His expression darkened slightly. The nearby tennis court, which was supposed to be unused, now had people on it.
Apparently, the group had stopped using their original court for some unknown reason and came all the way to this worn-down, isolated one instead.
"Ah, are you okay? I'm so sorry, really sorry~"
A girl ran over, her face full of apology.
She seemed concerned about whether he was hurt, but he could see through the poorly hidden disgust and schadenfreude in her eyes—or rather, the joy of revenge.
In other words, she had intentionally hit him with the tennis ball.
Very well. Was Yazuki the kind of person who just silently swallowed such things?
"No problem. If it's okay, would you mind if I joined your training?"
"Eh? Oh, sure~"
She looked surprised at first, but quickly put on a welcoming face. However, Yazuki clearly saw the malice in her eyes.
Most likely, she intended to mess with him further during the match, maybe hitting him a few more times with "accidental" shots.
Of course, the so-called tennis training was co-ed doubles, so Yazuki would need a female partner.
Who to ask? The available options in his class were few, and none were nearby.
Everyone around him was a stranger. If he didn't pick someone himself, the group using the court might helpfully assign someone to him—likely another troublemaker from their circle.
For reference, P.E. was typically held with three classes together, and these people who didn't like him seemed to be from Yukino's class.
"Yo, short a partner? Want me to team up with you? I don't have a teammate either."
A crisp voice called out. A blonde girl waved to him from the slope nearby.
She had the kind of energetic, sunny, and innocent vibe.
Tilting her head slightly, the braided strand on the left side of her forehead swayed gently, and her lake-blue eyes sparkled.
"OK!"
Good, no need to look any further.
Judging from the reactions of the troublemakers, they didn't seem familiar with the blonde girl either, and looked a bit surprised.
"I'll cover the front, you take the back!"
"No problem~?"
She answered cheerfully and playfully, holding her racket lightly as she walked into the court. Her movements were so light it was as if she had no weight at all.
Very well. It was his turn to serve.
Tossing the ball, jumping, and smashing—he looked like a beginner. The ball landed in an easy spot for the opponent to return.
Smack!
The ball sliced through the air and bounced back to his side with a low thud, flying swiftly toward the blonde girl's left side—a reachable spot for her dominant right hand.
"Heiyo!"
It looked like she would miss, but instead, she stepped forward with her left foot as a pivot, twirling her flexible body like she was dancing a waltz. Then, with a reverse grip, she struck back—her sharp move resembled a samurai's iai slash.
The ball shot back, barely grazing past the foot of the girl who had "apologized" earlier, narrowly missing her cheek after bouncing.
The girl let out a shriek of fright.
"Point!!"
The cheerful blonde girl flashed a bright grin and held up a victory peace sign.
She was clearly very good at tennis, while Yazuki was average. Still, by calculating force and incorporating his battle instincts imprinted in his soul, he could exert enough pressure to make the opposing side scream.
In the blink of an eye, two games passed, and the score was tied.
Yazuki had lost all the points on his side, not scoring a single one, but that was fine.
His expression showed some frustration, but it was only a mask hiding his brewing ferocity.
Tossing the ball and watching it fall, he slightly crouched—his posture like a drawn bow.
The moment the ball bounced, he stomped and jumped, twisting his body. The rotational force flowed into his arm and channeled into the racket for a vicious smash.
BANG—!
The racket made a loud noise as the ball howled through the air, slamming into the ground about 20 centimeters in front of the girl he'd marked, then bounced up and struck her shin.
"Ugh—!"
She cried out in pain. Probably not serious, just an external injury—like tripping during a sprint.
But for a girl, that kind of scrape still really hurt.
"You okay?"
"Y-Yeah... I'm fine."
Good. Then we can continue. Let's see how many hits it takes to cover you in bruises.
By the fourth game's final ball, Yazuki executed a cross-slash-like finishing move. The ball bounced hard and nailed the girl right in the cheek.
WHACK—!
"Waaaah! Ugh ugh ugh~~~"
She cried. Loudly. Real tears.
By now, a crowd had gathered around the court, and it was obvious this was intentional. A couple of "accidents" were forgivable—but five or six? Yeah, clearly deliberate.
That said, not everyone blamed him.
Some had noticed the girl's malice from the first two games. So, it could only be said she brought it on herself.
In the end, they couldn't continue the match. The group of girls left angrily, glaring at him with unwilling eyes, while the onlookers slowly dispersed.
Naturally, Yazuki returned to his own business. But after walking a short distance, a wave of soreness hit him—proof of what happens when you skip warm-ups.
His stamina was about drained too.
What a waste of time. He should've just slapped them from the start.
Still, that sunny blonde girl really was the embodiment of cheerfulness and cuteness from a normal person's perspective.