Forgive me, Ayana. Maybe next time. (Please vote and add to your favorites!)

"Wait... So there's an activation condition for the Ultimate Autonomous Will Technique." Songyuan Mingyi murmured in surprise. If this kind of setup appeared in the original work, it would be understandable, but to have such a bizarre rule in the world of Prince of Tennis? It's sheer poison.

He'd assumed that, with the system, he'd enjoy all sorts of privileges. Even the cheat he acquired through his own efforts required unlocking with the proper posture—where was the justice in that? Stupid system, it's doomed!

Songyuan Mingyi wasn't complaining out of arrogance due to favoritism with his Anime Bullet Task System, but requiring a massive stimulus to unlock the first stage? Isn't that just like the conditions to awaken the Sharingan? This really is forced data analysis copy-pasting from Naruto.

Setting aside the matter of copying Naruto, Songyuan Mingyi's immediate problem was where to find such a huge stimulus. Surely he couldn't let someone do something to his most treasured person right in front of him?

The condition for unlocking the second stage seemed easier—recapturing the joy of tennis, the original motivation. Form is emptiness, emptiness is form; this, at least, Songyuan Mingyi was confident he could achieve. But the first stage's requirement was truly unreasonable.

At the entrance of Silver Blossom Middle School, four young men stood in a row, clad in deep green uniforms.

The one on the far left had short, black, center-parted hair. Next to him was a slightly chubby boy with short brown hair, and beside him, a boy with short blue hair.

“This is Silver Blossom Middle School. The environment here is really nice!” The tallest, standing on the far right with dreadlocks, remarked as he admired the towering, verdant trees surrounding them.

These four were Suzuki Fangjian, Tashiro Yuu, Fukushi Man, and Domoto Eisuke, childhood friends since elementary school and now just starting their first year of junior high.

Because their own school's tennis club was weak, the four decided to transfer together to the enigmatic powerhouse Silver Blossom, hoping to find worthy opponents.

Today was their first day at Silver Blossom.

Arriving at the tennis courts, finding them empty, Suzuki Fangjian clicked his tongue. “As expected of a famous tennis school. Not a soul on the courts outside club hours. Unlike my old school, where everyone rushed to the courts and club members had nowhere to play.”

“Look, there aren’t just one, but four courts—just enough for each of us to have one!” Tashiro Yuu pointed excitedly.

“But... Even if it’s not club time, why is the storage room wide open, and all those cardboard boxes are empty? Not a single ball in sight.” Fukushi Man, approaching from a distance and sensing something off, gestured behind him with a thumb.

“No way...” The other three exchanged glances, each seeing disbelief in the others’ eyes.

“It’s true... Not a single ball in any of these boxes... And the plastic baskets and carts for transporting tennis balls are gone too...” Following Fukushi Man to the storage room, the tall Domoto Eisuke peered in and muttered blankly.

...

That evening, returning home, Songyuan Mingyi saw smoke rising from the kitchen. While taking off his shoes, he called out, “I’m home.”

“Oh, dinner’s almost ready. Come eat.” A man in his thirties with close-cropped hair and stubble poked his head out.

This middle-aged man, busy with dinner and bearing some resemblance to Songyuan Mingyi, was his father, Songyuan Sho.

As a teacher at the school run by Mingyi’s grandfather, Songyuan Ibaraki, Songyuan Sho was not a scholar of vast learning, but he was certainly knowledgeable. He loved promoting his educational philosophy and had even lectured abroad.

“Yes.” Songyuan Mingyi watched his father return to the kitchen and nodded expressionlessly.

“Welcome home, Mingyi.” A beautiful woman in her thirties with center-parted short hair emerged from another room, smiling.

“Mom... You’re home early.” Songyuan Mingyi was surprised upon seeing his mother.

This woman, whom Mingyi called mother, was Meimura Mitsuka. Though in her thirties, she was so well-maintained she looked as youthful and petite as a high school girl.

“Today is your first day at Evergreen Academy. Your father wanted to celebrate, so he cooked dinner himself, and I came home early to tidy up.” Hearing this, Songyuan Mingyi’s mouth twitched. It was just a transfer, not admission to a famous school—what was there to celebrate?

Meimura Mitsuka walked to the stairway, her delicate hand gently at her lips, and called upstairs, “Come down for dinner, Miho, Ayana! Mingyi’s home!”

With the sound of doors opening upstairs, two girls descended one after the other.

The first was a quiet girl with long, straight black hair and violet eyes.

Behind her was a lively girl with golden curls and tea-colored eyes. These two were Mingyi’s elder sister and younger sister.

The former, Songyuan Miho, was four years older than him; the latter, Songyuan Ayana, one year younger.

Seeing her brother return, Songyuan Miho paused gently, a soft smile blooming, “Welcome home, Mingyi.”

“Yeah, sister.” Songyuan Mingyi replied with a light smile.

“Brother! You’re back!” Before Ayana had fully descended the stairs, she shouted loudly and leapt down halfway, startling Meimura Mitsuka and Songyuan Miho, as she wrapped her arms around Mingyi’s head.

Accustomed to Ayana’s usual antics, Mingyi was prepared, quickly supporting her slender waist and stepping back a couple of steps to set her down safely.

“Ayana’s getting bigger. If you grow much more, I won’t be able to handle you.” Mingyi laughed wryly as he straightened his hair and clothes, thinking that Ayana was heavier than before.

“No, I want brother to always hold me.” Seeing Ayana’s willfulness, Mingyi shook his head with helpless affection, “Alright, whatever Ayana wants.”

Gathered around the dinner table, Songyuan Sho glanced at the tennis bag in the entryway, “How was school today?”

“It was alright.” Mingyi replied casually, head down, eating.

“I really don’t see what’s so great about tennis. After junior high, you could attend your grandfather’s high school. Whether you become a teacher like me or eventually take over as principal, it’s a much better future than playing tennis.”

Hearing this, Mingyi didn’t pause his chopsticks. Whether he’d crossed worlds or not, there was always one parent like this.

“Alright, dear, you supported Mingyi by arranging his transfer, and grandfather encourages him to choose his own path. Don’t complain anymore.” Meimura Mitsuka gently advised.

“Hmph. If you don’t make a name for yourself in tennis, you’ll obediently attend grandfather’s school and inherit the family business. Got it?” Songyuan Sho grumbled, sounding both annoyed and vaguely like reverse psychology.

“Yeah, yeah...” Mingyi finished his last bite, replying with casual indifference.

Ever since the transfer process began, he’d heard this lecture from his father countless times: if he didn’t focus on tennis, he’d have to inherit the family estate. Frankly, Mingyi’s ears were calloused from repetition.

But parents are parents; no matter how tiresome their nagging, it wasn’t reason enough to show excessive dissatisfaction or rebellion.

“I’m done eating.” Mingyi put down his bowl and chopsticks, pushed back his chair, and headed upstairs. Ayana quickly wiped her mouth and left the table as well.

“Brother!” Halfway up the stairs, Mingyi heard a sweet voice behind him and turned.

“Ayana really wants to play tennis like you. Will you teach me?” Faced with his younger sister’s hopeful gaze, Mingyi smiled after a pause, “Brother is tired today.”

“Brother can’t be tired...” Ayana lowered her head with a pout, “Do you not like me anymore? Every time I ask you to teach me tennis, you make excuses.”

“Of course not. Ayana’s so cute and obedient—how could brother not like you?” Mingyi smiled indulgently, gently stroking her soft golden hair.

“Forgive me, Ayana. Next time.” Mingyi extended a finger and tapped her forehead lightly before returning to his room.

Hearing the door close, Ayana pouted unhappily, rubbing her forehead.

Back in his room, Mingyi sighed in relief, rubbing his chest.

Since he started playing tennis, his clingy little sister asked him every day to play with her. If he’s being honest, does he even look like someone who can play tennis?

He could show off with cheats, but teaching kids tennis? Might as well put him out of his misery.

It wasn’t that Mingyi disliked children; he was genuinely afraid he’d slip up while teaching Ayana and expose himself.

If he messed up, his perfect, heroic image as an older brother would collapse instantly.

With that thought, Mingyi became even more determined not to teach his sister tennis.