bestfiction Chapter 75, the lottery, is on the grassland.
Chapter 75, the lottery, is on the grassland.
Atobe stepped forward slowly, lightly touching his beauty mark with his fingertip, exuding a magnificent aura. He didn't rush to reach out, but first glanced at the lottery bucket, then snapped his fingers crisply.
"Snapped!"
"Um~ I'll go first."
He reached into the ball barrel with an elegant motion, as if he were taking gold coins from a treasure chest. The ball he pulled out was blue, and on the back of the ball was written an opponent's number.
He glanced down, raised an eyebrow, and then flipped the ball over for Takiginosuke to register.
Sanada then stepped forward.
He lacked Atobe's flamboyant sense of ceremony; he simply reached out silently, swiped the ball, and glanced down at it.
pink.
There were two sets of numbers on the pink ball; the numbers on the left represented his partner, and the numbers on the right represented his opponent. Sanada stared at the two rows of numbers, his breath slightly catching in his throat, and the corners of his mouth visibly tightening.
The moment Rikkai's vice minister drew the pink ball, everyone's hearts were in their throats.
Genichiro Sanada, the emperor of Rikkai University, is undoubtedly strong, but in doubles... he is a complete black hole, with a teamwork ability that can only be described as disastrous.
To put it simply, Rikkai University's tennis club has an unwritten rule: when drawing lots, don't be paired with Sanada, whether it's singles or doubles.
Liu's expression became subtle for a moment. He quickly stepped forward to hit the ball, and when he saw that his doubles number was not Sanada's teammate, but his opponent, he breathed a barely perceptible sigh of relief.
Their eyes met briefly before they simultaneously turned their gaze to Kirihara standing beside them.
Kirihara was rubbing his hands together, ready to draw a lot, when he suddenly felt two pairs of eyes on him. He looked up at the vice-minister's pink ball, then at Yanagi-senpai's pink ball, and his face turned pale instantly.
"No way," he said softly.
He took a deep breath, reached into the ball bucket and stirred it several times, his expression as solemn as if he were about to perform some kind of sacred ritual. Then he suddenly pulled out a ball and held it up to his eyes.
blue.
He quickly pressed it to his chest, let out a long sigh of relief, and muttered to himself, "Thank goodness, it wasn't a doubles match..."
Marui leaned closer, glanced at the number in his hand, picked up the ball in his own hand and shook it, "What a coincidence, Akaya, your opponent is me."
Kirihara immediately looked up, his eyes sharp, and raised his chin. "Marui-senpai! Although you're a senior, I'm Rikkai's ace! I won't lose! Momoo is mine!"
"You think you can beat me? It's not that easy. That genius Momomoto is definitely going to win." Marui raised an eyebrow, his tone carrying the confidence of a senior.
Kuwabara drew the pink ball for doubles. He glanced down at the number; the partner and opponent numbers were clearly written. He turned around, looked around the crowd, and then saw Urayama Shiita.
The boy with rosy cheeks was standing on tiptoe, peering in their direction, clutching his racket, his face a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. He froze when he saw his senior walking towards him.
Kuwabara patted him on the shoulder, his voice gentle: "Don't be nervous. The most important thing in doubles is to cover for each other. You do what you're good at, and I'll take care of the rest."
Urayama nodded vigorously, his cheeks flushing even redder, but the tension in his eyes lessened somewhat: "Yes, Kuwabara-senpai!"
Chotaro Ootori drew the pink ball. He looked down at the number, then looked up at Niou, who had the same number not far away.
Niou straightened up, a slow smile playing on his lips—a smile that only appeared before a successful prank. He beckoned to Feng, his voice drawn out and soft: "Nice to meet you, Feng-kun. Puri~"
Feng gripped her racket tighter, trying to keep her voice calm, but a hint of nervousness still crept in: "Please, please guide me. Senior Ren-ou."
Shishido drew the pink ball, and his partner was Yagyu Hiroshi. Yagyu adjusted his round glasses, walked towards him, and bowed slightly, his posture elegant: "Shishido-kun, nice to meet you."
Shishido nodded and replied briefly, "Mm."
Then he saw that Renwang was whispering something in Feng's ear. Feng's expression changed from tense to confused, and then from confused to both amused and exasperated.
Shishido looked away and exchanged a glance with Yagyu. Neither of them spoke, but their eyes conveyed the same message: Niou is definitely going to cause trouble.
Jiro and Mukahi drew their balls almost at the same time. They were still competing with each other when they reached into the ball bucket, but when they pulled them out, they both found it was a blue ball.
"Gakuto, are we playing singles?" Jiro held the ball and looked at it over and over again to make sure he wasn't mistaken.
"It seems so." Xiang Ri crossed his arms, slung his racket over his shoulder, and looked quite excited. "Perfect! I'm going to show you my new move! I've been training for it for ages!"
"Oh." Jiro yawned and rubbed his eyes. "I'll go find Bunta after I'm done."
"...Can't you show some fighting spirit?!"
"I'm determined," Jiro yawned again, his reddish-brown curly hair trembling slightly. "So I need to finish this quickly."
Xiang Ri took a deep breath and decided not to argue with the little lamb. He turned his gaze to the giant peach that was glittering in the sunlight, silently binding the two things, "winning the game" and "eating the peach," together in his mind.
The draw proceeded quickly.
One by one, the small balls in the lottery box were drawn away, and the boys from Hyotei and Rikkai University formed pairs, some from the same school and others from different schools. The older students led the younger students, exchanging harsh words or simple glances, creating a lively and enthusiastic atmosphere.
Wang Yueling stood at the front of the line, watching with amusement as they drew their lots and then circled the large peach like a cat circling a fish tank.
My fingertips unconsciously traced the edge of my phone.
The screen was lit up. He had taken a few close-up shots of the giant peach during the break between the draws, as well as a few candid shots of Kirihara and Marui exchanging harsh words, and Niou pulling Oo aside to discuss a plan with a sly smile.
With its unique angles and spot-on expressions, each photo is a masterpiece.
He sent it to Yukimura.
[Ling]: Seishi, your little seaweed is about to go after Marui for this Peach King I have. And that fox Niou, I wonder what tricks he's plotting. I'll record the match for you later.
[Ling]: Oh right, I also saved a super big peach for you, about the same size as this one. Don't be envious of them, I'll bring it to you when I get back. (Golden Retriever making a heart shape with its hands.jpg)
After sending the message, he put his phone back in his pocket, clapped his hands, and walked away without looking back.
"Have you all finished drawing lots?"
"The main stadium isn't this way, follow me."
The group followed him along a gravel path around the right flank of the lake. The branches of pine and cypress trees formed a natural sunshade overhead, and occasionally, when a breeze blew, the low cypress trees along the roadside would rustle.
It took about six minutes to walk.
"arrive."
Wang Yueling stopped and stepped aside to give way to his view.
What appeared before everyone was six neat and orderly grass tennis courts.
Water droplets, not yet completely dry, still clung to the blades of grass, gleaming moistly in the sunlight, like a piece of jade crushed and spread on the ground.
A mountain breeze blew across the lake, carrying moisture and the scent of peaches. The tips of the grass bent slightly in the direction of the wind, then bounced up again.
There was a moment of silence, and then...
"Grass...grass field?" Xiang Ri was the first to speak, his eyes wide like copper bells.
"It really is a meadow."
Shishido crouched down and reached out to touch the grass, his fingertips feeling its cool, damp texture. He stood up, his expression complex. "The height of this grass... it was specially trimmed for the competition."
Marui's chewing of gum slowed slightly. He looked around, his voice filled with undisguised surprise: "Six plots of grass? Not a single hard surface?"
"And it looks like it's newly laid." Kuwabara gently rubbed the ground with the sole of his shoe, the grass rustling under his feet.
Kirihara gasped, his tousled curly hair swaying in the wind: "Grass! I've never played a match on grass before!"
"Me too." Jiro was full of energy, squatting down and poking at the grass with his finger. He looked up at Marui, his eyes sparkling. "Bunta, Bunta, have you ever played with grass before?"
Marui blew a bubble, shook his head without answering, but his gaze darted back and forth between the grass and the racket several times.
The ordinary members of Rikkai University were also whispering among themselves.
The courts where they usually train and play matches are almost all hard courts. Grass courts are extremely rare in junior high school tennis; the maintenance costs are ridiculously high, and no school would build a grass court specifically for junior high school students.
Now they have six pieces in front of them.
Each piece was trimmed neatly, the white lines were clean and crisp, the net was brand new, and the white net surface was stretched taut.
The issue is.
They haven't practiced on grass, so how to adjust their movement, how to find the hitting point, and what their bounce will be like are all unknowns.
A subtle tension spread through the crowd.
Liu stood at the front of the line, his gaze sweeping from the first pitch to the last. Unlike the others who squatted down to touch the grass, he stood there, scrutinizing the color of the turf, the direction of the mowing, and the precision of the sidelines on each pitch.
Then he opened his notebook, tapped the pages with his fingertips, and delivered precise data in a steady tone.
"The hard ground has a medium to fast speed, a regular bounce, and an upward rebound angle of about 60 to 65 degrees after landing, making it suitable for an all-around playing style."
"On grass courts, the ball speed is the fastest of all surfaces, the bounce is low and irregular, and the proportion of the ball sliding forward after landing is much higher than the proportion bouncing upward. The shorter the grass, the faster the ball speed and the lower the bounce."
The faces of the Rikkai University employees surrounding him turned pale upon hearing this.
"A more offensive style of play has an advantage, but a defensive counter-attacking style will struggle." Liu turned to the next page of his notebook and continued reading the data he had collected to supplement his notes.
"In terms of equipment, hard-ground shoes don't have enough grip on grass, so gliding is basically unusable. Therefore, you need special grass shoes."
"Also, the Wimbledon grass court rules require all-white attire, but since we're currently in a training camp, that shouldn't be necessary."
He closed the notebook, opened his eyes which were usually half-closed, and his brown pupils swept over the white border lines at the edge of the grass field.
"In summary, players who are used to training on hard courts are 80% more likely to make mistakes on their first time on grass."