BOOM!
Atobe kicks off with his signature Tannhäuser Serve—ball screaming like it's got a personal vendetta.
"Faster than the clips I've seen," Sanada mutters, heart skipping. But he's already there—crack—ripping it back the second it bounces.
He lunges forward to seize offense, but Atobe's diagonal laser forces him scrambling to the baseline. Tannhäuser's raw juice lets Atobe dictate like a king on his throne.
Sanada's getting yanked side-to-side, sweat flying. Subtly? He slips into Immovable as a Mountain—a freaking fortress. Even in marathon rallies, he's not budging an inch.
Twenty-plus shots traded. Suddenly Atobe crouches low, racket face down—slice—a nasty drop shot hugging the baseline.
Sanada charges, forehand explodes.
But Atobe's already at net, sneaky as hell—short ball. Barely clears the net, plummets straight down.
Sanada steps… then freezes.
No way he's reaching that without Thunder. And even then? It's five centimeters from the center—too tight for a clean Thunderbolt.
"15-0!"
"Damn, what a chess match," Inoue gasps, wiping forehead sweat. These two? National level. Rikkai's Sanada, Hyotei's Atobe—names about to echo across the whole damn scene.
"Muroto, you snapping this?" he barks at his intern, Shiba Saori, who's full fangirl mode.
"On it, senpai! More pics!" She giggles, camera click-click-click.
"Atobe's moves are crisp today!" Kasuga yells, hyped. That slice into the surprise drop? Chef's kiss—snatched the point clean.
"Crisp is right," Kawamura nods. "But neither's gone full arsenal yet."
Baseline instincts, court smell, point prediction, execution—both are elite.
"Yo, speaking of—Atobe's holding back that monster smash from last time," Ninomiya chimes in. Ana told him: friendly match, Atobe unleashed a smash even Giant Bear Counter couldn't touch.
!!
"15-15!"
Sanada pulls the exact same stunt—Xu Ru Lin into a filthy drop shot. Atobe's court.
!!
"30-15!"
Next ball: Tannhäuser amped. Sanada misreads—ace. No touch.
BOOM!
"30-30!"
!!
"40-30!"
!!
"Game, Atobe! 1-1!"
Atobe holds serve smooth.
Rallies crank into overdrive. Score stays neck-and-neck.
!!
"Game, Rikkai! 2-1!"
!!
"Game, Hyotei! 2-2!"
Till 3-2: Sanada unleashes a blazing smash like wildfire—secures his service game.
Break time. Both collapse into chairs, gulping air like fish.
"Atobe's sprinting too damn much upfront. Sweating buckets," Ana frowns, checking his watch. Five games? Thirty-plus minutes. Normal matches end in snacks. These two? Deuce every game, ironclad holds.
"Hmph—why the long faces?!" Atobe stands, glaring at Hyotei's cheer squad. Snap of fingers. Eyes burning, not tired—thriving in the grind.
"Atobe! Atobe!"
"Victory for Atobe!"
Cheers erupt like thunder.
"You see it, right?" Tarou leans on the bench, cool as ice. "His D is ironclad, O is airtight. But humans crack. You've both been pinging corners from jump—equal stamina drain."
"Even with his tank, he can't outlast you."
Tarou lays it bare: Atobe's ace? Endurance. Outstrips Kawamura, even Ana. All thanks to that freaky breathing he honed in England.
"Oh? Then this ain't even fun yet," Atobe smirks, picturing Sanada's Thunder. Dude's holding back too—just like him.
"Don't sleep!" Tarou warns. "Time to steal the wheel."
Atobe grins, fist clenched. "All according to keikaku."
---
Other side: Sanada slouched, towel over eyes, sweat soaking in. His stamina's beast-mode, but he's still eating dirt.
Atobe's got infinite recovery—England's gift. As long as he doesn't collapse, he resets fresh.
"That Atobe kid's got gas left. Out-endurance him? You'll tap out, Vice-Cap," Mouri drawls, lazy AF.
Yukimura, Renji watching—same vibe. Practice matches showed: Sanada's defensive returns? Atobe eats 'em. Only Fire overwhelmed him before.
Fire's useless now. One move left.
But Atobe's holding his trump too.
Both waiting for the kill shot moment.
"Players to court!"
Round six.
Smash!
Atobe serves Tannhäuser—lower arc, faster heat.
Sanada bolts, swings—
Whiff. Bounce a centimeter lower than expected. Mid-game and this dude's focus is god-tier?!
"15-0!"
"Hey, Sanada—legs turning to jelly?" Atobe taunts, another Tannhäuser.
Lesson learned: Sanada chases, barely slices it back—racket low, desperate.
"Sanada Genichirou! Step into the abyss!"
Atobe leaps—mid-air lob, smash screaming at Sanada's wrist.
Sanada squints, racket down—forces it back high.
Then—
Atobe second jump—Two-Stage Smash!
Sanada lunges… wrist numbs. Racket flies on contact. Ball lands clean.
"30-0!"
"Two-Stage Smash," Ishihara breathes. Looks simple—two jumps. But that first blast? Aimed at the wrist. Sanada blocked, but the shockwave lingered.
"Even sword-trained beast like Sanada lost the power battle," Yukimura mutters. Momentum? Atobe's bitch now.
"Can't we end this already?! I'm dying here!" Miura gripes. Sanada had openings—why defend and drag into endurance hell?!
"No shot," Renji says flat. "Atobe matches him. Rush attack? Exposes flaws. He'd feast."
BOOM! BOOM!!
Atobe guns it—rhythm his. Drags into his beloved war of attrition.
Sanada forced to attack. Defense shattered.
BOOM!
"Game, Atobe! 3-3!"
Sanada tanks the game outright.
Break swap—he resets.
Huff… huff…
Sanada glares. This guy's stamina? Freakish.
Deep breath. Eyes steel: "Gotta force the pace. That move."
"That's…" Kawamura spots the milky-white aura swirling.
Low stamina? Still popping Selfless State. Means ditching mountain D for all-out blitz.
"Smart call," Tezuka nods. JR tourney—Sanada cracked the limit under pressure, entered Selfless. But like Yukimura, ditched it for higher peaks.
Still? Instant 5D boost. Adapts skills on fly—as long as they don't exceed base stats.
"This dude's got it too?!" Atobe's cocky mask cracks. Last match? No Selfless. Plot twist.
CRACK!!
Sanada serves—faster. Pale yellow blur.
!!
Ball pins the line.
"Xu Ru Feng!"
Selfless amps it—wind on steroids.
"Fast," Atobe grunts, scrapes a slice return.
"Invade Like Fire!"
Sanada spins, leaps—fire ignites the aura, inferno smash. Ball slams Atobe's court, flames trailing.
Tap… tap…
Atobe reaches—barely touches.
ZZZZT. Racket vibrates off.
"15-0!"
"Heavy," Atobe flexes his hand, grinning through the sting.
Selfless 5D spike, huh?
Game on.