Didn’t You Say I Was Just a Stand-In?

The last class of the day was physical education.

If this were in China, our frail and perpetually ill PE teacher would undoubtedly have fallen sick yet again, and the class would have been replaced with math or English.

But this is Japan, and the PE teacher here isn't that fragile. PE class went on as usual.

At Aoba Academy, PE classes are held with three classes together.

After leading the students through warm-up exercises, the PE teacher announced that they were free to disperse.

"Takashi, come on, let's go play!"

Just as Kitahara Takashi was about to sit down under the shade of a tree, Ootani Shota ran over enthusiastically, dragging him off to play table tennis.

"Takashi, do you know how to play table tennis?" Ootani Shota asked after they found an unused table.

Kitahara Takashi casually picked up a paddle, gave it a few test swings, and found it surprisingly comfortable. He glanced down at the paddle.

Hmm, it wasn't a "Double Happiness" brand (a well-known Chinese table tennis brand). Instead, it was a brand called Yasaka.

As he examined the paddle, Kitahara Takashi replied offhandedly, "Not really. I've only played with some old guys in the neighborhood."

Of course, he was referring to the elderly men from his previous life, back in his old neighborhood.

Japan doesn't have the concept of a "neighborhood community" in the same way.

Hearing this, Ootani Shota's eyes lit up.

"Let's settle this once and for all, Takashi! For the honor of being Aoba's best!" Ootani Shota pointed his paddle dramatically at Kitahara Takashi, shouting loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Huh?"

Kitahara Takashi narrowed his eyes, sensing that this guy was up to something.

"Oh? Takashi, are you going to duel Shota?"

"Takashi-kun, do your best!"

Kitahara Takashi was like a spotlight magnet just by standing there.

Many of the girls had already been sneaking glances at him.

Now, with Ootani Shota's loud declaration, even more people came over to watch.

"It's okay if you lose, Takashi-kun. I'll comfort you," said a girl from Class B with a cute bob cut and a doll-like face, cheering him on.

"Makoto, is your 'comfort' going to be appropriate?"

"Ah, stop teasing me!"

The girl named Makoto, embarrassed by her friends' teasing, playfully swatted at them.

"Ugh, you're such an embarrassment to us girls," Uekawa Marie muttered, casting a disdainful look at the fangirl.

Honestly, how shameless can you be, saying such bold things in public?

"Damn it, how dare you act so cocky, Takashi? Watch how I, Ootani-sama, will take you down!" Ootani Shota glared fiercely at Kitahara Takashi.

Kitahara Takashi gripped the paddle with a standard shakehand grip, crouched slightly, leaned forward, and spread his legs, his eyes locked on Ootani Shota. "Bring it on."

How dare you underestimate me, who's evenly matched with the neighborhood grandpas?

Ootani Shota tossed the ball and, with a swift motion, brushed the paddle against the lower edge of the ball, sending it spinning rapidly. The ball floated unpredictably over the net.

For an average player, this would be an excellent serve—spin-heavy and not too high.

Most people, afraid of the spin, would just gently return it.

But Kitahara Takashi wasn't most people.

Like a man spotting black stockings, his eyes sharpened. He shifted his weight, twisted his hips, and swung his arm in one fluid motion.

With a crisp "smack!", the tiny silver ball shot like lightning, landing on Ootani Shota's side and flying far out of reach.

The ball was so fast that Ootani Shota didn't even have time to react.

"You... you said you weren't good at this!" Ootani Shota gulped, feeling like he'd been tricked.

"I'm not really good at it."

Kitahara Takashi genuinely wasn't that great. He used to get beaten by the old men in the park all the time.

He'd never even made it to the top three in local tournaments.

"That was just luck. I was just testing it out, and it worked."

Kitahara Takashi began his忽悠 (talking nonsense).

"Come on, let's keep going."

Ootani Shota felt like Kitahara Takashi was messing with him, but he had no proof.

Plus, with so many people watching, he couldn't back down now.

"Your turn to serve."

Ootani Shota tossed the ball to Kitahara Takashi.

He wanted to see Kitahara Takashi's serve to confirm whether he really was as inexperienced as he claimed.

"Alright."

Kitahara Takashi caught the ball, crouched down, and held the ball in his left hand, glancing up. "Ready?"

"Bring it on!" Ootani Shota shouted loudly, trying to psych himself up.

Kitahara Takashi tossed the ball, twisted his wrist clockwise, and sliced the ball from the lower left, applying reverse spin.

The rubber of the paddle gripped the ball, sending it spinning rapidly. The ball bounced off the table and shot toward the far edge of Ootani Shota's side.

If it had gone just half an inch further, it would have gone out, resulting in a failed serve.

But the ball stayed in, heading straight for Ootani Shota's chest.

Ootani Shota tried to sidestep and counter, but before he could react, the ball hit his chest and dropped lightly to the ground.

"Again."

Kitahara Takashi's tone was calm, but to Ootani Shota, it was dripping with pressure.

He felt like a low-level grunt who'd drunkenly challenged the final boss.

"Your backhand is weak, your forehand is sloppy, your footwork is messy, and your reactions are slow. Nothing about your game is up to par."

Kitahara Takashi shifted to one side of the table, stepped back with his right leg, and unleashed a powerful forehand smash.

The ball slammed into the table and flew past Ootani Shota before he could even react.

"And you think you can compete with me? Keep dreaming."

Kitahara Takashi looked down at Ootani Shota, who was running back and forth to retrieve the ball, with a look of disdain.

"I'm done, I'm done."

Ootani Shota threw down his paddle and collapsed onto the ground.

So what if he looked bad? He never wanted to play table tennis with Kitahara Takashi again.

Screw his table tennis dreams.

If he ever touched a paddle again, he'd be a dog!

"So strong!"

"Invincible Takashi!"

"As expected of the man who stands at the top of Aoba!"

By now, the table was surrounded by three layers of onlookers, both inside and out.

Even the PE teacher had come over to watch.

Everyone knew Kitahara Takashi was academically brilliant, but no one expected him to be this good at table tennis.

"Who's next?"

Kitahara Takashi was thoroughly enjoying crushing his opponent and was even starting to feel a bit unsatisfied.

He cast a mischievous glance at the boys from his class and others.

The students he looked at avoided his gaze like they were dodging a teacher's question, either looking down or up—anything but meeting his eyes.

No way.

Ootani Shota's humiliating defeat was still fresh in their minds. Who would willingly subject themselves to that?

"Teacher, want to play a round?"

Kitahara Takashi smirked at the PE teacher.

"Ah, my stomach suddenly hurts. I need to go to the bathroom."

Well, it seems Japanese PE teachers are starting to develop mysterious illnesses too.

"How lonely it is to be invincible." Kitahara Takashi put down his paddle, shaking his head in a way that was both smug and infuriating.

Damn it, he's really showing off.

At that moment, every boy in the vicinity shared the same thought.

They wanted to show off like that too!

Just as Kitahara Takashi was about to stretch and loosen up, Uekawa Marie charged at him like a bull, slamming into his back.

Crack!

Kitahara Takashi thought he heard a faint sound coming from his bones.

Maybe, just maybe, he was imagining it.

"Takashi, you're amazing!"

Uekawa Marie wrapped her arms around Kitahara Takashi's waist, looking up at him with an excited, radiant smile.

"Calm down. Can you keep your hands to yourself?" Kitahara Takashi glanced down at the hand sneaking between the buttons of his shirt and said irritably.

"Ugh, you're such an embarrassment to us girls."

Makoto spoke up, voicing the thoughts of every girl present.