GBP Chapter 81 If you can't handle losing, don't stand on the court.
Chapter 81 If you can't handle losing, don't stand on the court.
The members of Rikkai University exchanged glances.
Kuwabara stood next to Jiro, rubbing his bald head with his broad hands. He suddenly chuckled sheepishly and said in a deep voice, "So that's how it is."
Wang Yueling's gaze swept over everyone present, and then he said, "If anyone was frightened by his two moves..."
He paused for a moment, then raised his voice slightly, "Then you've already fallen into Kirihara's trap. The more panicked and afraid you are, the easier it is for you to get hurt."
As he said this, his gaze swept over the students from Rikkai University. There was no reproach in his eyes, but those whose gazes were met couldn't help but lower their heads.
"Do you guys get scraped during practice matches and think his shots are scary?"
Wang Yueling withdrew her gaze and, without waiting for their reply, said in a calm tone, "The main reason is not that his ball was particularly fierce or powerful, but that you yourselves panicked first, your footwork became disordered, and your bodies stiffened, so of course you couldn't receive the ball well."
"If you're not careful, you'll get a scratch, and the next time you try, you'll be even more afraid, and the fear will make you even less likely to do it well, creating a vicious cycle."
He leaned back in his chair, raised his chin, and suddenly raised his voice so that everyone in the stadium could hear him.
"Those who cry out in horror at the slightest scratch or bump are simply mentally weak and have terrible skills."
There was a moment of silence at the edge of the stadium.
Even the two groups of players on the court were a beat slower than expected.
"Unable to return the opponent's ball, unable to withstand the opponent's aura, instead of looking for weaknesses in their own abilities and honing their skills, they simply blame the opponent for their losses. What's the point of labeling the opponent with a seemingly terrifying 'violent tennis' tag?"
Wang Yueling spoke at a steady pace, but each word seemed to fly outwards like a needle.
"What's wrong with violent tennis? Japanese tennis doesn't ban violent tennis; in fact, it's a mainstream style."
"In the end, it's not that the opponent's fighting style is so brutal, it's just that you are too weak. So weak that you dare not face the strength of the strong, and can only rely on slandering the opponent and creating rumors to cover up your incompetence."
"If you can't handle losing, don't stand on the court. Being less skilled than your opponent and resorting to spreading rumors is the most despicable behavior."
As soon as he finished speaking, the area around the field was so quiet that you could hear the wind rustling through the grass.
The members of the Hyotei team who had just been discussing the matter blushed as if they had been scalded by boiling water, each hanging their heads and not daring to look up. Rikkai wasn't much better off; several second-year students gripped their rackets, their lips pressed into thin lines, their ears burning hot.
Then, without prior arrangement, they all dispersed.
No one spoke; no one had the courage to look at the coach's bench again.
Footsteps echoed softly as they walked towards the sides of the field, each finding their own spectator spots and standing upright, not daring to even whisper to each other.
Atobe sat next to Mochizuki Ryo, his fingers resting on the rim of his teacup, glancing at him slightly. His icy blue eyes held a hint of surprise, but more than anything, an indescribable meaning.
"You're really irritable today." He put down his teacup, his voice so low that only the two of them could hear. "This isn't like you at all."
Wang Yueling leaned back in her chair, unconsciously touching her throat with her fingers, and took a sip of the iced tea beside her.
"I usually say that too." His voice returned to normal volume, even softer than before, "but I just happened to catch him today."
Atobe didn't reply, he just glanced at him and then turned back to continue watching the game.
That glance probably meant, "Say what you will."
On the court, Kirihara's racket drooped down.
The senior colleague spoke up for him.
The senior said his tennis style was not violent tennis.
The senior colleague said he's been trying hard. He's not a bad kid, it's just that his body sometimes can't control itself. He really held back today, several times, he held back several times.
The senior saw it, the senior saw it all.
Kirihara's mouth twitched, and his eyes gleamed with a bright light, as if he were about to turn into an egg flower in the next second.
"Aka!" Marui's return shot had already cleared the net.
Kirihara snapped back to his senses, hurriedly shifted his feet, slipped on the grass with small, shuffling steps, lost his balance, and landed hard on his bottom.
The ball landed inside the service area, bounced twice, and rolled to the edge of the net.
"Marui, 40-0."
Marui blew a bubble, walked to the net, looked down at Kirihara sitting on the ground, hands on his hips, eyebrows raised high.
"Akaya, you didn't faint just because Ryo praised you a little, did you?!"
Kirihara scrambled to his feet, frantically brushing the grass clippings off his bottom, his face flushed red to his ears: "I didn't! I just slipped!"
"You slipped? You're sitting on the ground, and you're still being stubborn."
Marui slung his racket over his shoulder, turned and walked back to the baseline, his tone light and irritating, "Your service game is almost over, how about Marui-senpai kindly lets you have a game? If you lose, you won't get a chance at Momoo."
"No need! Marui-senpai, you wait, I'll win back in no time!"
Marui waved his hand without turning his head, his tone light and irritating: "Then hurry up, I want to go see if the doubles over there is finished yet."
Kirihara gripped his racket and stood up, suppressing all the emotion and embarrassment he had just felt, his eyes regaining their sharpness.
He took a deep breath and served the ball with his knuckles again.
This time, the serve landed further off-center, almost just along the sideline. Marui had to move two steps laterally to reach it, compressing the angle of his return and slowing down the speed of the ball.
This is what Kirihara was waiting for.
He took a step forward and hit a forehand shot with great speed, landing in the gap where Marui couldn't defend in time.
"Kirihara, 40-15."
Kirihara won back a point, giving himself no time to catch his breath, and immediately served his next ball. He tossed the ball up, turned his body slightly to the side, and used his knuckles to serve.
The ball hit the outer corner of the service area, bounced up, and then spun outwards.
Marui lunged forward, his racket barely touching the ball, and the angle of his return shot went astray. Kirihara met the ball with a forehand straight shot, nailing it into the back corner.
"Kirihara, 40-30."
"Sure, Akaya." Marui straightened up, chewing gum, and tilted his head to look at him. "Your hands feel pretty good today."
Kirihara didn't reply, but his eyes shone even brighter than before.
He then rallied to score two points in a row, holding onto his serve.
"Game, Kirihara. 2-1. Change of serve."
Kirihara squatted on the ground, panting, sweat dripping from his chin into the grass.
He held his serve.
Mochizuki Ryo leaned back in the coach's chair, twirling a pen between her fingers, watching Kirihara squatting on the ground panting, a soft light rising in her azure eyes.
The little guy played terribly on the grass in these three games. His knuckle serves were too loose, and his error rate with small, one-footed steps was much higher.
To his surprise, Kirihara Shin has never entered demon form from the beginning until now.
Before the match, Seiichi specifically entrusted him to take good care of Kirihara and supervise him to control his emotions and prevent him from using demonization. At the time, he replied, "Don't worry, leave it to me," and was prepared to intervene at any time.
Now it seems that he doesn't need to do anything at all.
He said that Xiao Hai was a very well-behaved child.
There's absolutely no need to worry about it.
Kirihara is now like a cat that has just learned to tuck its claws in. Before, it would scratch people when it got impatient, but now, although it still gets all pricked up, at least it knows to hide its claws.
Mon dieu, what's this? Is it just a baby filter?
"Keigo." Mochizuki Ryo nudged Atobe, who was drinking red tea next to him, with his elbow, and gestured with his chin toward Kirihara.
"Look at this child, how well-behaved he is. He said he wouldn't use demonization, and he didn't. I heard he even secretly practiced a new technique. For the past two weeks, he's been getting acupuncture, giving up cake and snacks, and he hasn't complained once."
Atobe, holding his black tea, glanced at him sideways: "You're not his coach, what are you so happy about?"
"Who says you can't be happy if you're not a coach?"
Wang Yueling leaned back in her chair, put her hands behind her head, and gently swung her toes, her expression completely matter-of-fact.
"Seiichi asked me to take good care of him, and I'm a man of my word. Besides, look how good this kid is. He plays basketball seriously, he never gives up, and when he said he wouldn't use the demonization, he didn't. He's so obedient."
He became more and more engrossed in his speech, his tone increasingly resembling that of an old father praising his son.
"Tsk, where can you find such a good kid?"
Atobe placed the black tea back on the table, the cup making a crisp sound as it hit the tray.
He raised his hand and rubbed his temples, saying in a tone that said, "If you like it so much, go ask Yukimura to bring Kirihara to our Hyotei. I won't refuse."
"Keigo...you want to hurt me...waaaaah..."
"Seriously, when he comes, I'll give him the title of 'Hyotei's Ace' too."
Wang Yueling chuckled a few times, picked up the scoreboard and continued watching the game, unable to suppress the smile on her lips.
Meanwhile, the doubles match was already nearing its end.
With perfect tactics and tacit cooperation, Yanagi firmly controlled the rhythm. Sanada tried his best, but still could not make up for the doubles weakness.
The final whistle blew, and the score was 6-2.
The Liu group achieved an overwhelming victory.
Sanada, devastated by the defeat, had a horribly gloomy face, gripping his racket tightly in his hand, his gaze beneath the brim of his hat chilling and menacing. Aoyama Yota followed behind him, head bowed, his entire body tense, like a child who had done something wrong.
Ryo Mochizuki stood up from the coach's bench, slowly walked to Sanada, a mocking smile on his lips, but his eyes were devoid of any warmth.
"Vice-Captain Sanada, this doubles match was truly 'wonderful'."
Sanada suddenly looked up, his dark eyes flashing with anger: "What do you mean?"
"The literal meaning."
Mochizuki Ryou chuckled, hands in her pockets, a lazy posture on her face. She took a step forward, tilted her head and looked at Sanada, her tone filled with undisguised sarcasm.
"You should really be glad you play at Rikkai. Rikkai has two pretty good doubles teams, otherwise..."
He stopped there, letting out a cold laugh.
The laughter was short and clear, and everyone present heard it.