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

Haitang's words were like a spark, instantly igniting a fire in the hearts of several first and second graders nearby.

Arai stood at the front of the first-year students' line, his face flushed with excitement, and his voice shrill and piercing.

"That's right! I knew something was off about them a long time ago! During Kawamura's match, their coach came over and said some strange things. Now that I think about it, it was all on purpose!"

"Exactly!" Satoshi Horio pushed forward, nodding in agreement, his hand trembling as he gripped the support flag. "Their captain is even worse! He has absolutely no sportsmanship! Knowing his opponent had an old elbow injury, he still pushed them to the limit. It's so malicious!"

Katsuo muttered to himself, "Is that really true...? That's terrifying... Kawamura-senpai's hand was like that, and now the captain's old injury has flared up again. Even if Hyotei wins, it won't be a fair victory!"

Arai crossed his arms, looking indignant. "I've always felt something was off about the Hyotei guys. They all act so arrogant, but when it comes to a real fight, they rely entirely on dirty tricks. What's so great about having a substitute coach giving advice from the sidelines? Our coach just isn't here, otherwise, they wouldn't have the right to be so cocky."

The group of people took turns speaking, their emotions rising, their voices growing louder and more self-righteous, their statements becoming increasingly outrageous, even including statements like "It was Tezuka who was deliberately injured by Hyotei before the match."

The surrounding Seigaku support groups also began to echo this sentiment.

Their words were like sparks falling into a haystack, instantly igniting pent-up emotions.

"That must be it!" Haitang's anger flared even more from their teasing. Her fists clenched so tightly they cracked, and her eyes were so fierce they looked like she wanted to devour someone. She took a step forward and slammed her hand hard against the railing, making a loud thud.

"They did it on purpose! They were targeting the minister's elbow, trying to cripple him to win the game! I will never accept this kind of victory!"

Momoshiro nodded in agreement, tossed the support flag aside, clenched his fist so tightly his knuckles cracked, and exclaimed, "That's outrageous! Who plays basketball like that?!"

Kikumaru sniffed and nodded in agreement.

His mind was in turmoil. On one hand, he felt that his opponent hadn't done anything wrong, and on the other hand, he felt sorry for Tezuka. His chaotic emotions were all mixed up, and in the end, he just went along with what Kaidou said.

"It's just... knowing that the other person's hand is uncomfortable, they still deliberately chose to hit with their backhand. That's just too much of a bully."

They made quite a commotion here, which was clearly heard in Hyotei's rest area.

Shishido, who was unscrewing the cap of a sports drink, turned icy cold upon hearing this, with veins bulging on his forehead. He slammed the bottle aside, immediately bristling and getting up to head towards Seigaku.

"Say that again if you dare!"

When Hiyoshi heard his two most respected seniors being maliciously insulted, his face instantly darkened, and he took a step forward, his aura turning several degrees colder.

"Speak with respect."

"Hey, hey, don't be impulsive." Taki reacted quickly and grabbed Shishido's arm.

Feng quickly grabbed Hiyoshi's wrist, shaking his head anxiously, "Shishido-senpai, Arakawa, there are rules in the arena. The referee is watching."

"They've already bullied us to the point of blatant disregard for the rules!" Shishido struggled, his eyes fierce. "On the field, everyone relies on their own abilities. Seigaku can't stand losing, so they resort to biting people randomly. It's just too ugly."

"Ugly?!" Momoshiro's anger flared even more upon hearing Hiyoshi's words. "Who's ugly here?! You all knew our captain had an elbow injury, yet you kept hitting him to his backhand, forcing him to use the zero-style short ball frequently. Is that what you call playing by his own skill?"

"Otherwise what?" Shishido sneered. "Are we supposed to avoid hitting his left hand? When you Seigaku play a match, are you going to deliberately let your opponent have a weakness?"

"You did this on purpose!" Satoshi Horio shouted at the top of his lungs. "You forced Kawamura-senpai into this situation before, and now you're trying to harm our club president!"

The two sides, separated by several meters, argued more and more fiercely. Feng and Taki desperately tried to pull Shishido away, while Oishi was also trying to stop Momoshiro and Kaidou; the scene was chaotic. The surrounding audience all looked over, and the murmurs grew louder.

Just then, Shinobu adjusted his glasses and slowly walked over from behind. His dark blue hair fell down, partially obscuring the corners of his eyes, and he wore his usual faint smile, though his eyes held little warmth.

He reached out and placed his hand on Shishido's shoulder, pulling him back half a step, and then stood at the very front himself.

Momoshiro and Kikumaru squeezed over from the opposite side, while Arai led three first-year students to support them from behind, each with their necks stiff, looking as if they had suffered a great injustice.

"Please be patient, everyone. Since we're going to talk about this rationally, let's take it slow."

As he spoke, Shinobu took two more steps forward and stood by the fence. His gaze swept over the few Seigaku students who were making the most noise on the other side. His tone was slow and deliberate, but he enunciated each word clearly, just enough for everyone on the other side to hear.

"Before you all speak, could you please recall the previous singles match?"

Shinobu lightly tapped the railing with his fingertips, his smile unchanged.

"When Kawamura injured his wrist, our acting coach, Mochizuki Ryo, specifically went to remind him to stop immediately and seek medical attention, otherwise it would worsen. You guys insisted on finishing the match, talking about burning passion, and now you're blaming us for conspiracy theories? Isn't that a bit unreasonable?"

Haitang immediately retorted, her voice rough and hoarse, "Who knows what he's up to! Maybe he's just saying a few polite words on purpose!"

"Just polite words?" Shinobu chuckled at this, shaking his head. "If it were just polite words, why would he risk being accused of interfering with his opponent's progress by going over to remind him? Kawamura ruined his hand by insisting on hitting the Hadouken himself, and he was the one who hit the ball. Should the blame be placed on Hyotei?"

Horio's voice cut in from behind, carrying an almost obsessive certainty: "You're talking nonsense! That's exactly how you guys ruined Kawamura-senpai!"

"We forced him to do it?" Shinobu's voice was as cold as ice. "Don't you know how much Kabaji threw the last few rounds of that match? If he had played seriously, there wouldn't have been any Gun Seven."

Momoshiro knew he was in the wrong, but he still immediately retorted, his voice booming, "We're saying that your Hyotei captain is targeting someone's wound, which is despicable!"

"Despicable?" Shinobu chuckled, a glint in his glasses. "In a competitive arena, if you don't exploit your opponent's weaknesses, are you going to deliberately throw the game? If you really did throw the game, Seigaku would say Hyotei is looking down on them, wouldn't they? You're getting to say both sides?"

He paused for a moment, glanced at the various expressions on the faces of the Seigaku students, and then continued.

"And then there's Tezuka Kunimitsu's injury. His old injury is from his first year of middle school, almost three years ago. You guys spend every day together, training as a team, and yet not a single one of you noticed anything was wrong. Now you're blaming the opponents for noticing? If word gets out that, people will just think that the Seigaku tennis club has pitifully weak team spirit."

"Oh, by the way, Tezuka, as the captain, even hides his health condition from his teammates. Don't you guys think you should ask yourselves what you've been doing all this time? How can you make him, your friend, teammate, and captain, distrust you so much?"

Momoshiro wanted to refute, but couldn't utter a word.

Horio wanted to shout more, but after being given a dismissive glance by Oshitari, he inexplicably backed down.

"And then there's what you all say about the unfair victory." Renji pushed up his glasses, his tone laced with undisguised sarcasm. "If you really think it's unfair, then let your captain score a few more points. It's 5-1 now, the final game. You're arguing all over the place, do you think you can change the score? Instead of wasting your time gossiping, let your captain go back and play a few more games. Maybe he can last two more games next time."

These words were like a slap in the face, making the faces of the Seigaku members turn pale and then red.

"You!" Haitang's face flushed with anger, and she took a big step forward. "Say that again!"

"Did I say something wrong?" Oshitari raised an eyebrow, his smile fading slightly. "Tezuka playing with an injury was his choice, and our giving it our all is a sign of respect. If you really think it's unfair, let your coach come out and say something. Oh, by the way, where's your coach again? I don't think I've seen him since Kawamura came off the field."

"Look... our substitute coach. Coach Mochizuki sat on the bench, only talking to his own team members about tactical adjustments, never saying a single trash word to your Seigaku, and never interfering with the match. Compared to some people sitting in the stands barking... he's much more respectable."

His tone remained calm throughout, even with a polite smile, but every word he uttered struck at the heart of the matter.

"If we're really talking about an unfair victory, then Seigaku's actions of concealing the players' injuries, the coach's absence from the game, and forcing the captain to play through injury are definitely worse."

These words struck a nerve with Seigaku, leaving everyone furious.

Kikumaru's face turned red with anger, wanting to retort but not knowing where to begin. Momoshiro clenched his fists, shouting "What nonsense are you talking about?" and charged forward. Kaidou's temple throbbed with veins, wanting to rush over, but was held back tightly by Oishi.

Shinobu felt it wasn't enough, and whether unintentionally or intentionally, he glanced at Fuji Syusuke standing behind them, and slowly added a sentence.

"If your own classmates haven't noticed anything wrong, are we, from other schools, supposed to keep an eye on your teammates' health? Tezuka is your captain, not ours. It's ridiculous that you blame the opponents for being too serious when your own people aren't paying attention."

Arai and Horio wanted to say something, but Oshitari didn't give them a chance to speak.

"If you're not as strong as your opponents, you say they won unfairly; if a teammate gets injured, you say the opponents are cold-blooded; if the coach isn't there, you say it's unfair that we have a coach. You throw all the problems you don't want to face outside, blaming Hyotei, blaming Atobe, blaming Mochizuki Ryo, but have you ever thought about why Kawamura's hand was injured like that? Why did Tezuka's elbow injury drag on for two years? Who made those decisions? Where was the coach? Where were the teammates?"

Momoshiro's face turned a deep shade of liver: "Shut up!!!"

"Momoshiro," Shinobu said, fixing his gaze on him, "when Kawamura was injured, you shouted 'Hang in there!' the loudest. Did you ever consider whether your shout of 'Just hang in there!' was helping him or hurting him?"

Momoshiro's mouth was open, but no sound came out.

"You say Atobe is cold-blooded," Oshitari's voice remained calm. "But at least Atobe would push his teammates off the field when they couldn't hold on. What about you? You pushed him onto the field, and then, after he collapsed, you cursed the opponents for being ruthless. Who's the cold-blooded one?"

The Seigaku students stared at him with bloodshot eyes.

Just as tensions between the two sides were about to spiral out of control, the referee's whistle suddenly blew, its sharp sound echoing throughout the stadium through the loudspeaker.

"Spectators, please remain quiet! Do not disrupt the game! Any further disputes will result in suspension for disrupting the game!"

The referee's voice came through the loudspeaker, carrying an undeniable seriousness. Both sides remained defiant, neither willing to concede, but ultimately stopped arguing loudly.

At that moment, a clear, cold voice came from the sidelines.

"Haven't you argued enough yet?"

Tezuka had walked over at some point and was standing below the Seigaku stands. He was holding a racket in his right hand, his face was paler than before, his lips were almost bloodless, but his eyes were still sharp as he swept over the few people who had caused trouble earlier.

The air pressure was frighteningly low.

"Haitang, Momoshiro, Arai, and the three first-year students. After you get back, run 200 laps around the track and swing your racket 1000 times. Haitang and Momoshiro, as regulars who led the trouble, will have to do an extra 100 sets of shuttle runs."

Momoshiro and Kaidou stiffened their necks, lowered their heads unwillingly, and dared not utter another sound. The three first-year students from Horio huddled together, not daring to even breathe.

Tezuka's gaze shifted to Oishi, his tone becoming more stern, "Oishi, as the vice-captain, you failed to manage the team properly, allowing everyone to maliciously speculate about the opponents. You bear the responsibility. Go back and write a 3000-word self-criticism, and double your training load."

He glanced at the crowd again, his tone flat and monotone.

"My playing with an injury was my own choice, and it has nothing to do with Hyotei. The loss was a matter of skill. If you keep talking nonsense, you don't need to stay here."

Having said that, without waiting for anyone's reaction, he turned and walked back to the edge of the field with an unyielding and unyielding air. His left hand hung at his side, and his back remained ramrod straight.

The students from Seigaku were all dejected, standing there with their heads hanging low.

Horio lowered his head and put away the support flag. Kato Katsuro clutched his clothes and remained silent. Arai buried his face in his hands. Momoshiro's fists were still clenched, but he no longer intended to raise the support flag. Kaidou let out a very low hiss and sat back down in his chair, his headscarf askew and he didn't straighten it. Kikumaru was still standing by the railing, but his shoulders had slumped.

Daishi lowered his head, his fingers clenching the seam of his pants, and replied softly, "Yes, I understand."

Fuji lowered his eyes, his fingertips lightly tracing the railing, lost in thought. Gan flipped through his notebook, his pen hovering over the line "old injury relapse," not moving for a long time.

Ryoma Echizen had been staring at Tezuka's direction ever since the argument started, his amber eyes filled with complex emotions, and the tennis ball he was twirling in his hand fell to the ground.

The noisy atmosphere at Hyotei also subsided.

Reclining Mochizuki leaned back in his coach's chair, glancing at Shishido and Oshitari. A hint of amusement flickered in his azure eyes as he lightly tapped his fingertips on the armrest, offering an approving look. Then, taking advantage of the fact that no one was looking, he quickly gave a thumbs-up, immediately withdrawing it—a very subtle gesture, only noticed by Oshitari and Shishido in the front row.

Shishido's tense face relaxed a little, she snorted, turned her head away, but her ears felt a little hot.

Atobe, standing at the edge of the field, happened to catch a glimpse of this scene. His icy blue eyes swept over his teammates, and the corners of his mouth turned up almost imperceptibly, before quickly suppressing it again. He still maintained that arrogant demeanor, as if to say, "I was never wrong."

However, his aura softened somewhat.

The feeling of his teammates unconditionally protecting him wasn't particularly strong, but it was like warm water flowing over his heart, very comforting.

"Tch, a bunch of unglamorous guys."

Atobe muttered something under his breath, twirling his racket between his fingers, and the gloom that had risen in his heart from the rumors circulating on the sidelines earlier dissipated.

Shinobu strolled back to his seat, and as soon as he sat down, Jiro grabbed his arm, his eyes sparkling. "Yuushi, you're amazing! You've got such presence! They couldn't even talk back!"

Niou appeared out of nowhere, nudged Shinobu's shoulder with his elbow, and said with a sly smile, "Not bad, Shinobu. Your smooth talk is almost on par with Mochizuki Ryo. Puri~"

Shinobu raised an eyebrow: "I was just telling the truth."

"Telling the truth is the best way to kill someone, Pupina~" Niou chuckled and patted him on the shoulder. "But I admire it."

Kirihara watched the entire verbal battle in stunned silence, then excitedly leaned over, looking up at Oshitari with eyes full of admiration. "Oshitari-senpai, you're amazing! Were those lines something you came up with on the spot or prepared beforehand? Can you teach me...?"

Shinobu smoothed his dark blue hair, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Of course, it was all improvisation. After all, a genius's mind is always working. Let me tell you, dealing with these unreasonable people is pointless; you have to pinpoint their weaknesses. You can't let them really throw dirt on you."

He added another sentence, speaking very softly.

"Ahem... I've been spending a lot of time with him, so I've picked it up from what I've seen and heard. He's a professional, and I was just saying it offhand."

After saying that, he puffed out his chest, looking completely nonchalant.

Shishido rolled his eyes and got up to get a towel. Feng smiled and shook his head, then followed to help the captain prepare rest supplies after the match.

Hiyoshi turned his face away and muttered "flashy" under his breath, but didn't refute him. Taki rubbed his forehead, feeling a little helpless.

Ren-ou was speechless. He chuckled and turned to stroll back to Rikkai University, muttering "What a show-off."

On the stands of Rikkai University, Liu closed his eyes and wrote rapidly on his notebook with his pen, stopping a few seconds later.

"The emotional accusations from the Seigaku team are a classic example of attribution bias. They attribute their own injury problems, team negligence, and the disadvantage caused by the gap in strength entirely to the opponent's malicious tactics. Essentially, they cannot accept the current defeat and need an external outlet to vent their frustration."

"Of these, 70% stemmed from the frustration of being behind in the score, 20% from avoiding responsibility for their own dereliction of duty, and the remaining 10% from group emotions incited by younger students."

His voice was steady as he presented all the information in data form, outlining it in the form of a report.

After listening to his analysis, Marui blew a bubble gum, which popped with a "pop." He licked his lips and clicked his tongue twice: "Wow, you can do that? If you can't beat someone, you accuse them of winning unfairly. I've learned something new."

"They can't stand losing, huh?" Niou, having just strolled back, leaned on Yagyu's shoulder and added, "They have a ton of problems within their own team, but they're quick to blame the opponent. Anyway... when they win, it's all because they're good; when they lose, it's all because the opponent is despicable. Piyo~"

Yagyu gently nudged his arm, his tone mild, "Masaharu, speak more politely. It's just a competition; everyone has their own perspective."

Niou shrugged, offering no rebuttal, but the smile on his lips still carried a hint of mockery.

Yukimura remained silent, his gaze fixed on Tezuka's direction at the sidelines. Luna stirred in the cat carrier on his lap, awakened by the earlier commotion. Her little paws scratched at the mesh, and her fluffy head peeked out, her heterochromatic eyes peering warily, her ears perked up.

Yukimura reached out a finger and gently pressed its little head back in. The kitten was unhappy, circled around in the bag a couple of times, then tried to crawl out through the mesh, its little tail swishing back and forth.

"What, you heard people arguing and want to join in the fun?" Yukimura gently poked its nose with his fingertip, his voice soft. "Don't worry, your captain didn't suffer any losses. Wait a little longer, the competition isn't over yet."

The kitten tilted its head, saw that the familiar two-legged creatures were all alright, rubbed against his palm through the netting, and purred twice. It didn't try to crawl out again, obediently lying back down, resting its chin on its paws, its ears perked up, always pointing towards the sports field. Not long after, its eyes half-closed again, looking like it was about to sleep again.

Yukimura gently placed his hand on the side of the cat carrier, his fingertips able to feel the kitten's even breathing. His gaze returned to the field, his eyes deepening slightly.

"Tezuka was right to switch to his right hand for serving."

He spoke softly, only a few people around him could hear, "Switching to your right hand to serve, although the quality has dropped, at least you can still keep your arm. If you continue to use your left hand, that hand might not last the next shot."

Sanada abruptly turned to look at him, a hint of surprise in his eyes beneath the brim of his hat. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but ultimately no sound came out.

Yukimura met his gaze, his eyes calm. Beneath that calmness lay something Sanada knew well.

Only those who have also stood in the position of minister can understand the helplessness and the need to gamble everything.

"He chose this path, and he'll see it through to the end." Yukimura's voice remained soft. "It's useless to say whether it's worth it now. The game isn't over yet."

Sanada clenched and unclenched his fist twice. His Adam's apple bobbed, and he turned back to look at the arena.

Tezuka was holding his racket in his right hand, standing in the receiving area, his left arm hanging quietly at his side, like a superfluous decoration.

He just felt it was a pity.

He hasn't yet had a fair and square match against Tezuka Kunimitsu in his prime.

It would be too frustrating to end things like this, with the old injury recurring.

A gust of wind, carrying a wave of heat, blew over and lifted the edge of his hat. Sanada pursed his lips, his entire face tense, and the atmosphere around him was frighteningly oppressive.

Kuwabara touched his bald head, sighed blankly, and said, "It's been so tough for everyone."

Kirihara squatted on the railing, gnawing on the remaining half of a canelé, his mouth bulging.

"Being a minister is so tough..."