Yukino let out a sharp hum at Haruki’s polite gesture. She didn't hesitate, stepping onto the court with her chin held high.

  "Haruki’s ability to fight is well-known, but sports aren't a matter of raw violence," she began, her voice cool and clinical. "Victory isn't decided by speed and power alone. Besides, I doubt a normal person could even survive Haruki’s personal training methods."

  She turned her sharp gaze to Saika. "Therefore, to improve your game, Totsuka-kun, we must start with your greatest weakness: muscle mass. Biceps, deltoids, pectorals, abdominals, obliques, ts, and quads. To condition these effectively and efficiently, the push-up is the ultimate exercise."

  She pointed to the ground. "Get down. I want you to keep going until you feel like you’re actually going to die."

  Saika’s jaw dropped. Even Yui and Hachiman looked stunned.

  "Isn't that a bit extreme?" Yui whispered.

  "Not at all," Yukino replied. "When muscle fibers are damaged, they repair themselves and grow back stronger. This is known as super-compensation. In other words, by pushing yourself to the brink of colpse, your physical baseline will skyrocket."

  "Give me a break," Hachiman muttered. "He’s a tennis pyer, not a Saiyan."

  "While he won't sprout muscles overnight, this is essential for boosting his basal metabolic rate," Yukino continued.

  "Basal what?" Yui asked, her head tilting in confusion.

  Yukino sighed, her expression practically screaming 'Do you people know anything?' She crified, "In simple terms, we are making his body 'fit' for exertion. A higher metabolic rate allows for faster energy conversion. It makes the body a more efficient engine."

  "I... I think I get it, but I also definitely don't," Yui admitted.

  Saika, however, was desperate enough to try anything. "I-I’ll do it! I’ll try!"

  "I'll practice with you!" Yui chirped, wanting to prove her worth as a member of the Service Club. She dropped to the ground beside Saika.

  "One... two... ngh!"

  "Haa... haa... wait... mmm!"

  Within minutes, the two of them were red-faced and dripping with sweat. Their arms shook violently. It was clear that their stamina was nowhere near the level Yukino expected. Saika barely managed five before his chest hit the pavement.

  "Is this really going to help?" Hachiman asked, watching from the sidelines. "I don't py tennis, but I'm pretty sure it’s not just a powerlifting competition."

  "Strength is the foundation of all movement," Yukino insisted, sounding like a drill sergeant. "If you don't have the core power to stabilize your frame, how can you expect to return a high-velocity serve with any accuracy?"

  She eventually gave up on the push-ups and brought over a cart of tennis balls, firing them at Saika with punishing speed and difficult angles, demanding he return every single one.

  The training was grueling but ultimately ineffective. Saika didn't ck the physical ability to hit the ball; he cked the fundamental "flow" of the game.

  Yui and Hachiman could see the frustration building, but they didn't know how to stop Yukino. Finally, they turned to Haruki with pleading eyes.

  Haruki stepped forward. "That's enough. This meaningless training ends now."

  "What did you say?"

  Yukino’s expression turned wintry. To anyone else, her gaze would have been paralyzing. Haruki didn't even blink.

  "I said your training is pointless. It's not making him a better leader or a better pyer. You’re just wasting time."

  "Haruki... you know I don't take kindly to being provoked."

  "And you should know by now, Yukinoshita, that I have my own set of principles."

  The two stood in the middle of the court, Ice and Fire cshing in a silent battle of wills. Hachiman, Yui, and Saika huddled together on the sidelines, afraid to even breathe.

  "Haruki, you’re being arrogant!" Yukino snapped. Her temper was usually cold, but Haruki had a way of making it fre white-hot.

  "Arrogance is assuming everyone can follow your logic, Yukinoshita," Haruki countered, his voice as steady as a stone. "Everyone is an individual. You can't just force your ideology onto a person and expect them to change. That’s not training; it’s a vanity project."

  "I’m not forcing him to be like me," she argued. "I’m trying to push him toward the 'correct' path. He says he wants to be strong, but he’s doing nothing to achieve it."

  "And you think your path is the only 'correct' one? That everyone else is just wrong?"

  "I never said that!"

  The deadlock was total. Neither would budge an inch.

  "Ouch! Saika-kun, are you okay?"

  Yui’s cry broke the tension. Saika had colpsed on the court, clutching his ankle. It was swollen and red—a clear sprain from the sudden intensity of Yukino’s drills.

  "I'm fine... let's keep going," Saika whispered, forcing a smile through the pain.

  Yukino looked at the injury, then at Haruki. She fell silent, her brow furrowed in thought.

  "Are you sure you want to continue with your 'correct' method?" Haruki asked. He wasn't mocking her; it was a genuine, blunt question.

  "My logic is sound," Yukino said, her voice sounding uncharacteristically quiet. "But... it seems Totsuka-kun needs a break."

  Without another word, she turned and walked away toward the school building, her back rigid.

  "Did I... did I disappoint her?" Saika asked, looking dejected.

  "No, that's just how she is," Hachiman said, trying to be helpful. "She hasn't even called you a 'useless bottom-feeder' yet, so she’s probably in a great mood."

  "I think only you get called that, Hiki-kun," Yui pointed out.

  "It’s definitely my fault," Saika sighed, looking at the ground. "I’ve practiced for so long and I still can only do four push-ups..."

  "I don't think that's the case," Haruki said, surprisingly defending Yukino. "She didn't leave because she was disappointed in you."

  "Then why?"

  "Only she knows the answer to that." Haruki didn't have the patience to py psychiatrist. He looked at Hachiman. "Are we continuing?"

  "If the President didn't give the okay to switch instructors, I guess we're on standby," Hachiman replied.

  "Oh! Someone's pying tennis! Tennis!"

  A loud, boisterous group began walking toward the court. Hachiman and Yui immediately stiffened. It was the css elite—the clique led by Hayato Hayama and Yumiko Miura.

  To the "bottom-tier" Hachiman, this was like a herd of predators entering his territory.

  "Hey! Isn't that Yui?"

  Yumiko Miura, the "Fire Queen" of the css, spotted them. She walked over, ignoring everyone else to look at Yui. But her attention shifted quickly to Saika.

  "Totsuka, we’re borrowing the court for a bit."

  "Miura-san... I'm not pying... I'm practicing," Saika stammered.

  "What? I can't hear you. Speak up."

  Yumiko’s domineering aura silenced the boy instantly. He looked at Hachiman and Yui for help, but they were busy trying to become invisible. Finally, Saika’s eyes nded on Haruki.

  "..."

  Haruki had no interest in high school hierarchy, but this was a Service Club matter now. He stepped forward.

  "This court is currently being used for an official club activity. We’re training Totsuka. Outsiders should stay clear."

  "Haruki? You’re here too...?"

  Because of the angle, Yumiko hadn't noticed him at first. In the cssroom, Hayato was the star and Yumiko was the queen, but Haruki Aizawa was the "Grey Wolf"—a predator that existed outside the pack, one that no one, not even the elites, dared to cross.

  But surprisingly, Yumiko didn't look annoyed. In fact, her expression softened, a hint of genuine interest lighting up her eyes.

  "Oh, whatever," she said, her voice lose its sharp edge. "I thought you were above school clubs, Haruki. I've never even heard of this 'Service Club.' Fine, since you’re here, I’ll help out. I’m actually a pretty decent pyer myself. Let me show Totsuka how a real elite pys."

  "Huh?"

  Haruki was genuinely surprised. He expected hostility or fear. Instead, Miura was being... helpful?

  Hachiman and Yui shared a look of pure shock. They had never seen the "Queen Bee" act this friendly toward anyone outside her immediate inner circle.

  Yumiko Miura’s sudden cooperative attitude left everyone stunned—including her own clique.

  "You're sure you want to help train him?" Haruki asked, double-checking her intent.

  "Why not? If Yui and... whatever that 'dead-fish-eyes' guy is called... can help, then I certainly can," Yumiko said, reverting to her usual arrogance for a moment.

  "I’m a member of the club, Miura," Hachiman muttered. "This is officially 'outsourced bor' for me."

  "Ugh, whatever. You talk so much and say nothing," she snapped. She then looked back at Haruki, her gaze lingering. "So, are we doing this or what?"

  ***********************************************

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