Prince of Tennis: Shocking! Hyotei's Demon King is a Yukimura fangirl!

When a normal person picks something up, they will subconsciously use their dominant hand. Unless... their dominant hand is uncomfortable and they don't want to use it.

No wonder he felt Tezuka's backhand was a bit stiff when receiving serves in the last game. He thought it was because he hadn't played for a long time and his touch was off, but now it seems that his elbow couldn't support the ball.

Atobe stared at Tezuka across from him, his gaze gradually turning cold.

No wonder he wanted to avoid fighting and play one-on-two.

……

"This is getting interesting." On the sidelines, Shinobu tapped his fingertips lightly on the railing, his dark blue hair falling down to partially cover the corners of his eyes. "The return distance of the Zero-style short ball is shorter than in the last game."

Shishido, standing beside him, frowned and turned her head, looking at him with a puzzled expression. "Shorter? What does that mean?"

"That means he's not using his wrist properly." Shinobu looked away, adjusted his glasses, and became serious. His tone was no longer casual. "A standard zero-style slice requires extremely high precision in the backspin. Even a centimeter difference makes a big difference in spin. That last shot was at most 20 centimeters. It's not a matter of feel, but rather that his power generation was restricted."

"What does that mean?" Feng's eyes widened, her tone tinged with confusion. "Is it because my stamina has decreased?"

Renji didn't answer directly, but just smiled. "The decline in stamina affects positioning, not spin accuracy. Just now, he even subconsciously avoided using his dominant hand when picking up the ball, which shows that the discomfort is already quite strong."

"Either you misdirected your force or your form became incorrect, or..."

He finished speaking, his gaze drifting to Tezuka's left arm, the rest of his meaning self-evident.

Taki flipped through his tactics notebook, quickly jotting down numbers, his fingertips darting across the pages. "Since the start of the game, Tezuka has hit thirteen Zero-Shiki short balls, with the roll distance decreasing each time. At this rate of decline, he'll reach the critical point in three games. At that point, he can easily receive them by simply moving forward a little. Tezuka should know that he's trying to finish the game quickly and use his Domain to win this game."

Jiro clung to the railing, blinked, and said, "So that means his special move is almost useless?"

"Pretty much." Shinobu smiled slightly. "And the more he uses it, the worse his elbow gets."

"Trying a quick victory?" Niou listened to their conversation, leaning against Yagyu's shoulder, his silver braid sliding down his shoulder. He twirled the end of his hair with his fingertips, his fox-like eyes curving into a cunning arc. "Tezuka probably didn't expect that Atobe is least afraid of head-on confrontation. Puri~"

Yagyu pushed aside a fox, took a sip of his cool tea, and then, behind his glasses, looked at Atobe's position on the field. His tone was calm as he said, "The core of the domain is spin guidance. As long as the spin intensity of the return exceeds the threshold, gravity will fail."

"Atobe's serve spin is already capable of exceeding the standard, it just depends on whether he is willing to bring it out in advance."

Liu closed his eyes, his pen gliding rapidly across the notebook, stopping at the words "right hand picking up the ball." He paused for a few seconds, then wrote, "Zero-style short ball spin intensity decreased by 37%, landing point deviation was 10 centimeters. Left arm rotation speed change frequency increased by 40% per unit time, muscle load increased year-on-year."

He stopped writing, his eyelashes fluttered, and he said, "Data-wise, using a range of techniques supplemented by short balls is indeed his current optimal solution."

Marui, having finished eating and wiping his mouth, raised an eyebrow and remarked, "Is it really declining that quickly? It's only the fourth inning."

"Because he's been using the 'Zero-style short ball' all along." Liu looked up at the blue and white figures on the court, then glanced sideways at Sanada beside him. "When Mochizuki Ryo criticized Seigaku at the Metropolitan Tournament, he cited Tezuka's short ball as an example. Have you forgotten?! In other words, every time you hit a Zero-style ball, the burden on your elbow increases. That's one of the costs."

"The intensity of the drop shot from the zero-ball technique just now does not conform to the normal physical decline curve. After the racket vibration dropped, he still consciously used his non-dominant hand to pick up his personal belongings... This usually means that the dominant hand has limited function."

Niou, with a peanut milk straw dangling from his lips, his silvery-white braid swaying, said, "Of course, it's definitely a problem with his arm."

"Injured?" Marui, holding a tissue, looked at Yanagi with his mouth agape. "Tezuka is injured? I've never heard of that."

Niou stroked his chin, his eyes gleaming with contemplation. "The junior high tennis scene isn't that big. If there really was an injury, it's impossible for nothing to get out of it. Unless it was suppressed. Piyo~"

Yagyu's gaze also fell on Tezuka's left hand, his brows furrowing slightly. "Don't jump to conclusions without concrete evidence."

Jack rubbed his bald head and said sheepishly, "Maybe he just hasn't been performing well lately?"

Kirihara squatted on the steps, clutching half a mung bean cake in his hand, his eyes wide. "If there's something wrong with my hand, then Tezuka's domain will be..."

"The domain relies on rotational control," Yagyu said calmly. "If the force exerted by the wrist is limited, the upper limit of rotation will be locked. The suction force of the domain will be reduced."

Sanada's expression darkened, and he tightened his grip on the railing. He didn't speak, but stared at Tezuka's back on the field, his eyes filled with disapproval and a complex mix of emotions.

Yukimura turned his gaze from the field to the cat carrier. Inside the mesh, Luna rolled over, clutching her beloved polka-dot fish, fast asleep, her little belly rising and falling with her breath.

He lightly tapped the mesh with his fingertip, the premonition in his heart slowly sinking, but not completely settling down. His voice was very soft, as if he were talking to himself: "It's not certain yet. Maybe it's just a matter of physical fitness."

Despite saying that, the look in his eyes became more serious.

At the beginning of the month, Guan Yuechu of St. Rudolph opened his fan with a "whoosh," the fan covering half of his face, revealing only his fingertips wrapped around his bangs.

"Something's not right... the backspin intensity of the Zero-style short ball has dropped too abnormally." He frowned, quickly going through Tezuka's match data in his mind, somewhat puzzled. "It was quite stable during last year's tournament, could there be some problem with my recent training?"

Akazawa stood beside him, scratching his head. "Maybe he wanted to take advantage of Atobe's inability to adapt and win the first round?! Or maybe Atobe put too much pressure on him, and he didn't perform well?"

"He wouldn't have deviated this much even if he hadn't played well. He activated his Tezuka Zone, which means he's in good form; there's no reason he'd make a mistake on a short ball." Mizuki shook her head, drawing a question mark next to the name "Tezuka Kunimitsu" with her pen, clearly unsure herself. "I suspect it's a problem with his power generation structure, not his form. When he returned the ball just now, his left shoulder looked unnaturally tense..."

In the stands of Shonan Jōsei Stadium, Aoi Hanamura rested her chin on her hand, her wine-red curly hair hanging down her shoulders.

She stared at Tezuka's swing for a long time, tapping her fingertips on her sketchbook. "Strange... his slicing motion is faster than in the video."

"You collected it quickly?" Kajimoto turned to look at her.

"The power wasn't fully exerted." Hanamura Aoi chuckled, drawing an arc on her sketchbook with her fingertip. "Either she was holding back, or she was afraid to use her full strength. Logically speaking, there's no reason for her to hold back against an opponent of Atobe's caliber."

If Ren came back after flirting with the junior, he heard this and came over, "Coach, do you mean... his hand is uncomfortable? That can't be right, the one on the field is Tezuka Kunimitsu, who's been hyped up by everyone in junior high schools, the pillar of Seigaku."

Kajimoto's gaze swept over Tezuka's dominant hand. "It could also be an old injury. Middle school students are in the process of bone development, and their recovery from injuries is not complete. High-intensity matches can easily cause a relapse."

"Old injuries? That Ryuzaki Jin is quite the talent. Everyone on the team is a 'heroic martyr'." Hanamura Aoi chuckled, tapping the trajectory of the Zero-style short ball on the paper with her fingertip, her tone playful. "I thought Tezuka Kunimitsu was some kind of impenetrable wall, but it turns out he has weaknesses too."

Yamabuki's companion, fanning himself with a palm-leaf fan, moved a little slower than before. He gazed at Tezuka's retreating figure on the field, a knowing glint in his cloudy eyes.

He sighed softly.

"It's the same old problem again... Old woman Ryuzaki, still the same old thing."

Sengoku blinked, not quite understanding, but seeing his companion's expression, he knew it wasn't good news. He leaned closer and asked, "Coach, what do you know?"

"I don't know." The old man shook his head and started fanning himself again. "I just feel that this child is indeed worthy of being the minister chosen by that old woman."

In the stands of Seigaku, Fuji's eyes, which had been curved in a smile, opened a crack. His brown pupils fell on Tezuka's left arm, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the patterns on the railing, his fingertips brushing against the cold metal, and his heart sank.

"Tezuka..." he murmured, his voice quickly drowned out by the cheers around him.

……

On the coaching bench.

Ryo Mochizuki leaned back in her chair, watching Tezuka's retreating figure as he walked back to the service area, her azure eyes devoid of warmth.

The fourth game went to a 30-30 tie, which took a little longer than he expected. Tezuka's willpower was indeed strong; even as his wrist started to falter, he managed to maintain his domain.

But willpower can't heal old wounds.

I reached out and unscrewed the cap of the tea drink, taking a sip. The cool tea slid down my throat, suppressing the frustration that welled up inside me from the disappointment.

"Idiot!" he cursed in his mind in French.

That blow from Guo Yi must have been quite severe. Even after the bone heals, the tendon strain, fascia adhesions, and the memory etched deep into the nerves—each of these is a ticking time bomb buried in the body.

Physical scars may heal, but psychological trauma is not so easy to erase.

When I was picking up the racket just now, my left hand reached out halfway and then pulled back, switching to my right hand instead. That almost imperceptible pause was a subconscious reluctance to exert force.

Because he was afraid of overusing his hand and ruining the game; afraid of losing the game because of his own actions; afraid of letting down the hand that Kawamura had sacrificed.

Unfortunately... such a small action turned out to be the most obvious flaw in the eyes of the opponent.

Sigh... I'm really being held back by the title of "pillar of Seigaku".

Ryou Mochizuki tapped the bottle with her fingertips, her eyes full of mockery, and muttered, "In the end, it's still Seigaku's rehabilitation system that's too bad."

There wasn't even a proper rehabilitation assessment; the players had to tough it out on their own. Ryuzaki Jin has been in the coaching position for decades, and besides relying on his past experience coaching Echizen Nanjiro to act superior, what else can he do?

No... Back when Nanjiro was there, Seigaku didn't achieve any decent results. Now, however, there's no training plan, no rehabilitation follow-up, and no psychological counseling. All the pressure is being placed on one child.

If Tezuka, this pillar, breaks, is she planning to let that brat Echizen take his place?

With his limited skills, he hasn't even figured out how to play basketball properly yet, and he's still playing cosplay as "his dad," so he doesn't have time to be his "little pillar."

Ryo Mochizuki glanced at the Seigaku coaching bench not far away. Ryoma Echizen sat in a chair, his hat brim pulled low, twirling a tennis ball with his fingers, looking arrogant, but he didn't say a single useful word for a long time.

It must have been tough on him.

He's only a first-grader, but he's got good talent. But coaching isn't about talent; it's about experience, vision, and control over the entire game.

Long Qijin turned and left, abandoning this mess to a child. How could she do such a thing?

Wang Yueling withdrew her gaze, too lazy to think about it anymore.

No matter how bad Seigaku is, it's none of his business. All he needs to do is manage Hyotei and Atobe.

He looked up towards Rikkai University, and Yukimura was also looking in his direction. Their eyes met briefly in the air, and Yukimura nodded slightly, his eyes holding a hint of confirmation.

Wang Yueling raised an eyebrow in response.

It seems quite a few people... have figured it out.

That's true; people who can stand in that position must have excellent eyesight.

The few people with good eyesight on the sidelines fell silent at this moment.

Irie stopped twirling her sunglasses, and her smile deepened.

Tokugawa looked at Tezuka on the field, his brows furrowing slightly. "It's probably a recurrence of an old injury. This style of play is too reckless."

On the court, Tezuka, holding the racket he had retrieved, returned to the baseline, adjusted his grip, and his expression remained unchanged.

But Atobe's gaze had turned completely cold.

Do all these guys at Seigaku, from top to bottom, take pride in getting injured?!

The moment that thought popped into his head, a fire ignited in Atobe's heart.

He asked me about it when we shook hands before the match, and he also subtly brought it up after the first game.

What did Tezuka say? Enough to finish this match.

So you came to fight him with old injuries?

Do you think he can beat Atobe Keigo even when injured, or do you think Atobe is not worthy of fighting Tezuka Kunimitsu in his prime?

good very good.

Atobe's lips tightened into a straight line, and the atmosphere around him became even more tense. His fingers gripped the racket more tightly. "Since you insist on playing injured, then I'll play with you properly. Let's see how long your elbow can hold out."

Tezuka loosened his wrists, tossed the ball, and served, his movements still standard.

But Atobe had already figured out his methods.

Atobe played with great patience on this point. Instead of rushing to attack, he deliberately pulled the ball to the baseline, creating wide angles to the left and right, forcing Tezuka to run a lot of ground. Every ball was sent to the backhand side, all of them were slice shots with strong sidespin, which would curve outwards after hitting the ground, making it difficult for Tezuka to generate power from his elbow, leaving him in an awkward position.

Tezuka activated his Tezuka Zone and could barely manage to pull the ball back. But with each backhand slice, his wrist had to endure an extra bit of strain.

The quality of the Zero-style short ball kept declining. One ball, after landing, only rolled back less than ten centimeters before Atobe quickly stepped forward and easily flicked it diagonally.

"40-30. Hyotei is in the lead."