19 Asahi's War Flashback

In Karasuno, it was a typical Wednesday afternoon. The school grounds were bustling with students engaged in various club activities. The autumn sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm and inviting glow over the campus. The leaves of the trees had started to take on shades of red and gold, signaling the arrival of the fall season.

In one corner of the school, the volleyball club members were practicing their serves, spikes, and receives. The rhythmic sound of the volleyball hitting the floor and the voices of the players filled the air. Some students were diligently perfecting their techniques, while others took a break, chatting and enjoying snacks.

As the afternoon wore on, a few students, their club activities finished for the day, began to make their way home. They walked down the tree-lined paths, their backpacks slung over their shoulders, sharing stories and laughter as they headed toward the school gate.

Meanwhile, at one of the tennis courts, the atmosphere was intense. Three players were engaged in a spirited match. The sun's rays glistened on the green surface of the court, casting long shadows as the players moved swiftly across the court.

Sora, one of the players, had just served an impressive ace, clocking in at 125 miles per hour right down the T.

Hideo, his opponent, had been unable to return the powerful serve. Sora couldn't hide his excitement and grinned, celebrating his successful shot with a self-made fist bump.

"Game, set, and match, Hinata!" the umpire declared.

The score stood at 6-2 and 6-1, making Sora the clear winner of the match. Sora and Hideo, still catching their breath, made their way to the net.

Hideo was perspiring heavily from the relentless flat hits delivered by Sora. He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Hinata, you should've gone easy on me."

Sora shook his head, his determination evident in his expression. "I don't go easy on anyone. I view all of my opponents equally."

Sora had learned a valuable lesson from his previous life: never underestimate his opponents. He had faced embarrassment when he underestimated a qualifier and suffered a loss. That experience had shaped his competitive spirit and commitment to treating all opponents with respect.

Hideo smiled at Sora's response. "You're very humble, Hinata," he said, acknowledging the young athlete's dedication and sportsmanship.

Ichigo Mikoto, their fellow member of the Boy's Tennis Club, couldn't help but express his amazement. He gracefully descended from his umpire's seat, his impressive 6'3" frame casting a shadow over the court.

"Honestly, Hinata," Ichigo began with a hint of playful disbelief, "you're just 16, yet your service is not only fast but incredibly powerful. I stand here, a full 6 inches taller than you, and you serve even better than I do."

Sora, bashfully, scratched his cheek and felt his cheeks redden. "Well," he stammered, "I don't really know what to say about that, Ichigo-senpai."

Ichigo Mikoto, with his striking black hair and mesmerizing pink eyes, exuded an air of confidence that matched his impressive stature. As a second-year high school student, class 4, he was a respected presence both on and off the tennis court, embodying the spirit of Karasuno's Boys' Tennis Club.

Hideo couldn't help but chuckle as he observed Sora's enthusiasm on the tennis court. "I honestly thought you'd be emotionless during tennis practices," he admitted, a playful glint in his eyes. "It seems the rumors were false."

Throughout the practice match, Sora's face was often adorned with a wide grin each time he won a point. His genuine excitement and passion for the game were evident, and this unexpected display of emotion left both Hideo and Ichigo pleasantly surprised.

Sora grinned as he scratched the back of his head. "Well, it's just a practice match," he explained with a carefree attitude, "it doesn't have to be all serious, you know? Tennis should be fun, too."

If this was a real tennis match, Sora would be 100% focused and disregard any tiny amount of distraction.

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In one of the Karasuno hallways, a tall and imposing figure made his way through the school. It was Asahi Azumane, easily recognizable by his strong and commanding presence. At 6'2", he cut an imposing figure with a sturdy build, his dark hair neatly combed, and his glasses perched on his nose, adding an air of intellect to his appearance.

He carried a towering stack of books, a weighty burden of knowledge that he was diligently delivering to the school's faculty.

Swoosh!

However, amid the quiet hallway, a sudden and thunderous "swoosh" pierced the air. Asahi halted in his tracks, his curiosity piqued by the unfamiliar sound.

His gaze was drawn toward the source of the sound, a nearby window. Through the glass, he saw Sora preparing to serve a tennis ball. The anticipation in the air was palpable, and as Sora's racket made contact with the ball, a colossal boom resounded through the corridor.

Asahi's eyes widened in astonishment as he watched the tennis ball hurtling across the net with incredible speed. "That was fast," he muttered under his breath.

The deafening boom of the service triggered a distant memory in Asahi's mind. He couldn't help but be reminded of his own time on the volleyball court, the feeling of spiking the ball with power and precision. The sensation of sending the ball soaring over the net, the resounding impact, and the satisfaction of a well-executed spike flooded his thoughts.

Asahi's reminiscence brought forth memories of facing the formidable Date Tech High School volleyball team. He vividly recalled the frustration of his spikes being mercilessly blocked by their imposing blockers, the feeling of defeat and helplessness that had washed over him.

Asahi shook his head. He doesn't want to remember those memories. 'I don't want to play volleyball again."

With his past firmly tucked away, he continued his walk towards the faculty, determined to focus on his academic responsibilities and put aside the memories that had momentarily resurfaced.

The distant boom of Sora's tennis serve, which had briefly triggered his recollections, faded into the background as Asahi pressed forward, leaving behind the world of sports and embracing his current path.

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Meanwhile...

In the renowned Oakwood Tennis Academy, a famous tennis school in America, a middle-aged man with striking blonde hair sat in his office, engrossed in a video of Sora's incredible performance during the Japan Middle School Tennis Tournament.

As the video played on, the man's eyes remained fixed on the screen, his expression a mixture of amazement and intrigue. "A scary serve for someone so young like him," he mused aloud, his voice filled with admiration.

Aware that the video he was watching was from a year ago, he couldn't help but imagine how much Sora's skills had likely improved since then. A young talent with such potential was a rare find, and the man found himself growing more and more interested in the prospect of coaching him.

He leaned back in his chair, contemplating the idea. "I'm genuinely interested in coaching him," he said to himself, his tone reflecting a sense of excitement.

"A young tennis genius is precisely what we need in today's competitive tennis world." With that, he made a mental note to explore the possibility of reaching out to Sora, eager to see if he could help nurture the promising talent he had witnessed on the screen.