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

The discussions continued even in the stands of Rikkai University.

"It's an old wound," Yukimura sighed softly, his gaze darkening. His earlier premonition had been confirmed. He wasn't surprised, but rather felt a strange mix of emotions.

Both were ministers, and both chose to persevere despite their injuries.

Sanada suddenly looked up at Tezuka on the field, his eyes under the brim of his hat filled with shock. "Tezuka Kunimitsu and Kuniichi were injured? How come I've never heard of that?"

Not only was there no information he had collected, but even his grandfather, who was a policeman and a close friend of Tezuka's grandfather, never mentioned it.

"Seigaku kept it under tight control at the time, and not a single word leaked out."

Liu took out his phone and scrolled through it, speaking calmly about the data he had collected. "When I was collecting data through secret channels, I saw a few scattered records, but I didn't take them too seriously. After all, it's been more than two years, and everyone has assumed everything is fine."

"Found it. Back then... Tezuka Kunimitsu's outstanding performance in the Jr. Tournament during his first week of school caused dissatisfaction among the third-year regulars, and during a practice match, he was deliberately hit on the elbow with a racket, resulting in an injury to his left arm and causing him to miss 23 days of training. It was announced to the public that it was a training accident, and the news was strictly controlled within the school."

"The school did not issue a public statement afterward, but only dealt with the senior student involved internally. He had perfect attendance for the next two years and did not miss any games or training sessions due to illness. There were no abnormalities related to his elbow in the publicly released medical examination report."

He paused for a moment, then added, "Looking at the match data after his return, his backhand slice success rate has indeed dropped by seven percentage points compared to before the injury. I initially thought it was a technical adjustment, but now it seems..."

"You're rushing back to the team before your injury has fully healed, huh?" Niou finished watching Sanada's change of expression with great interest, then picked up where Yanagi left off, "You've just entered junior high school, it's your time to shine, how can you afford to lie down for too long? What if someone takes your spot on the regular team later?"

"So, what Atobe said is true, Tezuka really did have an injury? It was just from when he was in his first year of middle school." Marui's eyes widened, ignoring the tissue that had fallen to the ground, and she spoke angrily, "That upperclassman of theirs went too far! He did something so cruel just because he was jealous?"

Kuwabara picked it up for him, nodding sheepishly, "Yeah! That's so mean."

"Didn't they say it was two years of perfect attendance?" Kirihara scratched his head, completely confused. "And didn't that egghead guy on their team say he's fully recovered? Maybe the injury wasn't that serious back then."

"Perfect attendance doesn't mean you're cured." Liu Sheng patted him on the shoulder, explaining, "Many chronic injuries aren't noticeable unless you exert yourself intensely. If you don't use that kind of special move, like the Zero-Style Short Ball, much less in regular training, it won't recur."

Niou scoffed, his tone laced with sarcasm: "Regardless of how serious it is or whether it's fully healed or not. The most pathetic thing is that the captain played for two years with an old injury. The whole team spent every day with him, but only Oishi Shuichiro knew the details. The others didn't even notice."

Marui blinked. "Really? They're teammates who train together every day. How could they not see that he was injured?"

Kuwabara was startled by Sanada's ashen face beside him. After hesitating for a long time, he finally spoke, "Perhaps... Tezuka hid it too well?"

"No matter how well it's hidden, there will always be flaws."

Upon hearing this, Niou glanced at Yukimura not far away. His eyes turned cold, and he pursed his lips, tossing his braid behind him. "To put it bluntly," he said, "nobody in the team really cares. They all think he's the captain, the pillar, someone who can hold the sky up even if it falls. Who cares about his pressure, his pain, or his injuries…"

"Enough. Niou Masaharu!" Sanada interrupted him in a deep voice, his brows furrowed. "Didn't Seigaku say he's fully recovered? As people from other schools, we shouldn't speculate about other people's injuries."

Just as Niou was about to retort, Yukimura spoke softly.

"Masaharu, Genichiro..."

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried weight: "Atobe wouldn't speak without reason."

Sanada pursed his lips, about to argue, when a meow of "Little Thunder" came from the cat carrier.

"Meow~~~ (The cat is awake, let the cat out!!!)"

Luna was fully awakened by Sanada's loud voice. She rubbed against herself in the bag, peeking out through the air vents in the mesh fabric, revealing her fluffy little head. Her heterochromatic eyes were fogged up with moisture, and her ears drooped listlessly; she was clearly grumpy from being woken up.

The little paws were still tugging at the zipper, trying to get out.

Yukimura immediately softened his expression, reached out and pulled the zipper open a little, gently pressed his fingertips against the back of its neck, and slowly stroked the fur down its back.

"Sweetie, it's noisy outside, why don't you sleep a little longer?"

He spoke very softly, as if coaxing a child.

The kitten rubbed its fluffy head against his palm, yawned widely, and purred comfortably twice, but still tried to push its way out for some fresh air.

Yukimura had no choice but to take it out and place it on his lap.

The kitten was wearing a mini Hyotei team uniform, its little tail swishing back and forth, its heterochromatic eyes shining like jewels in the sunlight. It had just woken up and was still a little dazed, turning its little head this way and that, looking at the noisy crowd around it, then looking up at the familiar Yukimura and the others, as if asking why it was so noisy.

Niou's eyes lit up, and he couldn't resist the urge to poke the kitten's paw with his finger. He was met with a stern look from Sanada.

"Don't get distracted while watching the game."

Niou reluctantly withdrew his hand and pursed his lips. Kirihara, who was squatting on the steps, had his hand halfway out when he quickly pulled it back, pretending to be watching the game intently, but his ears were perked up.

Yukimura gently stroked the kitten's fur. Luna lay on his lap, squinted, yawned, curled up into a small ball, and prepared to continue sleeping.

The surrounding noise seemed to become its lullaby.

"Atobe wouldn't joke about something like this. If he said it, there must be a reason." Seeing that it fell asleep instantly, Yukimura helplessly put the cat back in the bag and looked at Sanada. "We'll find out soon enough."

Kirihara squatted on the steps, continuing to munch on his canelé, but his eyes kept glancing towards the cat carrier as he muttered to himself, "The Seigaku people are so pitiful... injured and still have to play matches..."

Kuwabara patted him on the shoulder without saying a word.

On the other side of Fudomine, Tachibana Yoshihira crossed his arms, his expression complex.

Back when I was studying in Kansai, the tennis club had a similar tradition, and it was common for freshmen like them to get injured or beaten. I just never expected that Tezuka Kunimitsu would have such an experience.

"Brother..." Tachibana An's eyes widened, she covered her mouth, and whispered, "Poor Tezuka-kun... did he get hit by his senior?"

"What's there to be pitiful about?" Kamio kicked the steps, looking indignant. "Anzu, don't you remember why we were suspended last year? Seigaku was so secretive because they were afraid of being suspended. What's the use of playing the victim now? You chose this path yourself, who can you blame?"

Standing to the side, Ibu looked gloomy, thinking about the unpleasant things that had happened to the tennis club in the past two years. He couldn't help but start muttering to himself again: "That's right... Doesn't he pity us? We were suspended for a year last year because we fought with those weak teams... Why is it that Seigaku gets suppressed for fighting and can still participate in the competition? They're so lucky..."

On the stands of Shonan Jōsei Stadium, Aoi Hanamura rested her chin on her hand, a cold smile playing on her lips.

"Ryuzaki Jin is really something. It's a real shame that Tezuka fell into her hands."

Kajimoto stood beside her, nodding in agreement: "Indeed, first year of junior high school is a critical period for the physical development of teenagers, and his signature move relies heavily on his elbows. Using it frequently before his old injuries have fully healed is tantamount to slow self-harm. If the coach were responsible, he should have limited his use of it long ago."

"It's more than just restrictions." Hanamura Aoi rested her chin on her hand, looking regretful. "Rehabilitation training, force correction, tactical adjustments—which of these doesn't require a coach to oversee? Ryuzaki Jin, on the other hand, just washes his hands of everything and doesn't care about anything."

"If it were in my hands, let alone two years, I could have nurtured it to a good condition in six months, and its technique could have reached another level. By the time it reaches the second year of national competition, it would be my most perfect creation."

The man, with a straw in his mouth, swung his leg and clicked his tongue twice: "Coach, you've tried poaching talent from Seigaku again?"

"What, it won't work?" Hanamura Aoi smiled, a hint of regret in her eyes. "Talented kids should be with knowledgeable coaches. It's a shame to waste them on some old lady who's just coasting along."

After waiting for her to finish expressing her regret, Ruo Ren aimed her empty drink bottle at a nearby trash can, tossed it aside, and then asked with great interest the question she most wanted to know: "If what Atobe said is true, wouldn't Hyotei be guaranteed to win?"

Aoi Hanamura didn't answer, but looked at the blond boy on the Hyotei coaching bench, her smile deepening.

With a coach like that around, Atobe Keigo's trump cards will only increase, not decrease. On Tezuka's side, his elbow is crippled, he can't use his Domain and Zero Style, and he doesn't even have anyone to properly guide his tactics. How can he win?

At St. Rudolph's, Michizuki flipped through his notebook with a rustling sound, his pen rapidly recording new data on the "Tezuka Kunimitsu" page.

"I see... I see."

He muttered to himself, "No wonder the spin on the zero-ball short ball dropped, no wonder he didn't use the area in the first two games... it turns out he was afraid of putting extra strain on his arm."

Akazawa frowned, his face serious. "Wouldn't Tezuka be in great danger? Atobe dared to say it so bluntly; besides psychological interference, it's definitely not just empty talk. Won't continuing the fight worsen his injuries?"

"Whether Atobe is lying or not, we'll know after watching two more games. Old injuries are most vulnerable to continuous exertion. Atobe clearly has no intention of stopping." Mizuki glanced at him sideways. "As for... whether it's dangerous or not, that's his own choice. You've known Seigaku's ways for a while now."

"The higher-ups tacitly approve, and the lower-ups stubbornly resist—it's an old tradition."

Yuta clung to the railing, listening to the surrounding chatter, his heart filled with mixed emotions. He recalled his time at Seigaku, when Captain Tezuka was always very serious and demanding of everyone. He had always thought Captain Tezuka was incredibly strong, like a mountain, capable of bearing anything.

Only now do I realize that this mountain already had cracks.

Sengoku of Yamabuki rested his chin on his hand and clicked his tongue. "Another one injured. What's wrong with Seigaku? They're all fighting injured one after another. It's like a general mobilization of wounded soldiers."

The old man fanned himself more slowly, sighed, and his voice carried a hint of vicissitude.

"Ryuzaki Kin, Ryuzaki Kin, he was just like this back when Yamato Yuta was captain. Now that Tezuka is in charge, he's still the same. He hasn't improved at all."

"She's wasted all those promising young talents."

Tanta blinked, looking confused. "Captain Yamato? Was he the former captain of Seigaku?"

"Yeah, their previous captain." Sengoku answered his question absentmindedly, then, with a gossipy look on his face, he quickly turned to the side, grabbed the armrest, and asked, "Coach, are you saying that Coach Ryuzaki hasn't really managed the team much from the beginning until now?"

"Why should I care?" The old man curled his lip. "Her philosophy is that the players have to fight for themselves. If they win, it's because she taught them well; if they lose, it's because the players are bad. Back then, Echizen Nanjiro was so talented that he could win even if he played haphazardly, and she actually thought it was all her doing."

Some things are too deeply ingrained to be changed.

Akutsu leaned against the back railing, his Adam's apple bobbing, his eyes practically overflowing with disdain.

"idiot."

Is Kawamura's brain made of mush? To put his arm around a wounded minister and pin his hopes on him is utterly incompetent.

Kentaro Aoi from Rokkaku Junior High clung to the railing, his face contorted in a frown. "Why are you playing ball when you're injured? If it hurts, you should rest."

Saeki ruffled his hair without saying a word.

Children don't understand.

Sometimes, people can't just rest whenever they want.

Standing to the side, Tengen Hikaru suddenly blurted out, "Playing with injuries, mainly relying on enduring pain and carrying a heavy burden. Pfft~"

Kuroba slapped him on the back with a "smack". Tengen rubbed his back and shut his mouth, looking aggrieved.

On the Hyotei coaching bench, Mochizuki Ryo listened to the murmurs around him, twirling a cold beverage bottle between his fingers, a faint, mocking smile playing on his lips.

Cured?!

He sneered inwardly. These Seigaku guys probably have some kind of misunderstanding about the word "recovery."

If there's really no problem, after being injured for almost three years, is it really necessary to go for a check-up before the match?

Furthermore, the doctor said playing tennis was fine, but he didn't say playing high-intensity official matches was fine, nor did he say hitting eight or nine short balls in a game was fine.

Can a regular rally serve and a high-intensity slice serve put the same strain on the arm?

Tezuka himself didn't understand?!

Guo Yi was injured, but returned to the team in three weeks.

They say he's recovering from an injury, but the swelling probably hasn't even completely gone down. The school is suppressing the news, the coach is urging him to return to the team, and he's being accused of missing training. What does a twelve or thirteen-year-old know about rehabilitation training? He only knows he can't hold the team back, so he grits his teeth and goes for it.

Isn't it natural to leave behind lingering health problems?

It's laughable, really. Tezuka wanted to leave after the incident, but Ryuzaki and Yamato downplayed it all. They called it "the team needs you, be strong," but it was just manipulation, using people as tools.

"Strong my foot, it's just that nobody cares."

However, it became a psychological burden that Tezuka couldn't shake off.

In the previous few games, Tezuka hit nearly twenty zero-style short balls in order to secure points. The high frequency of wrist twisting could cause problems even for someone without a problem, let alone someone with an old injury.

……

Watching the two players on the court respond with ease, Wang Yueling unconsciously tapped the bottle with her fingertips, making a crisp sound, and slowly assessed the gap between the two players in her mind with the eyes of a professional tennis veteran.

Physically, Guo Yi's old injury is a ticking time bomb.

Even if the surface heals, the body will subconsciously pull back and dodge during high-intensity combat. Coupled with the high frequency of short, zero-ball shots, even the best body can't withstand that kind of strain.

From a technical standpoint, Tezuka's system was too simplistic.

The entire playing style relies entirely on Tezuka's territory and Zero-style chop, with very few offensive options.

They rely entirely on counter-attacks to wear down their opponents, lacking any killer moves to score proactively. Once the spin of their offense is broken and their zero-ball technique is anticipated, the entire offensive and defensive system collapses, rendering both their sharpest weapons dull.

They didn't even have a backup scoring strategy, and the more they played, the more passive they became.

Needless to say, the training aspect is even more crucial.

Ryuzaki Jin is getting old, his energy is waning, his tactics are outdated, and he pays little attention to the injuries of his teammates. He's also been largely absent from his duties, leaving all the club's miscellaneous tasks and training plans to Tezuka alone. Training can only be squeezed into his rest time, fragmented and inefficient. Even when injured, he has to bear it alone, with no one to oversee his recovery.

Although both were team captains, Atobe was much luckier.

Hyotei has a complete medical team overseeing everything, and their training plans are tailor-made for each individual. If they get injured, they immediately stop training for rehabilitation, ensuring that minor ailments don't escalate into major problems. It's no wonder their strength, serve, and control have improved across the board in the past two months.

Ultimately, it wasn't that Tezuka lacked talent, but rather that the team behind him couldn't support his talent.

Ultimately, it comes down to personality.

That's too rigid.

What kind of pillar of Seigaku is this? What kind of bullshit "responsibility" is this? What kind of not being able to let down the sacrifices of teammates? It's all just shackles you put on yourself.

Kawamura fought hard despite his injury, and as the team captain, he felt he couldn't back down even more. Even though his elbow was already sore, he insisted on playing zero-ball, determined to exhaust himself to fulfill his duty.

Otherwise, I would be letting my teammates down.

The logic is completely twisted.

If you really want to be worthy of your teammates, you should protect yourself and save your body for more games. Instead of forcing yourself to finish this game, causing old injuries to flare up completely, and your teammates to each lose an arm and be unable to play, that would be a real loss.

To put it bluntly, it's still a legacy issue from Seigaku's history. There's a lack of coaches, outdated systems, and a misconception that self-sacrifice is an honor, or that simply pushing through is a responsibility.

Only the entire Seigaku community still considers this a spirit of hard work. And so it is—from the department head to the members, everyone is the same.

If you sacrifice your health in the end, who will be responsible?

Is it Ryuzaki Kin?

She probably didn't even know how serious Tezuka Kuniichi's injury was.

Wang Yueling screwed the bottle cap back on, scoffed, and muttered something to herself.

Imbécile! (You idiot!)

If Tezuka weren't such a rare talent, he wouldn't have bothered wasting his brain cells on making sarcastic remarks.

Pity.

Despite his immense talent, he was ruined by an unreliable coach and an outdated team culture.

But... everyone chooses their own path. Competitive sports never pity self-pity.

He looked up at Atobe on the field. The boy's back was straight, his short, purplish-gray hair was soaked with sweat and stuck to the side of his neck, but he still exuded a flamboyant spirit.

Fortunately.

His "distinguished disciple" doesn't have to suffer this hardship.

With this new coach around, Atobe can just charge forward, and the logistics, tactics, and medical support will all be taken care of.

We will absolutely not let him end up like Tezuka.