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

The sharp whistle of the opening whistle of the ninth inning pierced the sweltering air and reached everyone's ears.

Ryo Mochizuki's gaze remained fixed on Tezuka's dangling left arm across the court. The exposed skin outside his uniform was a deep purplish-red, with veins bulging like earthworms, and even his fingertips were trembling slightly involuntarily.

He frowned almost imperceptibly, and his eyelashes drooped slightly.

It would be such a shame to waste such talent as Tezuka Kunimitsu's potential in a Kanto tournament preliminaries.

He wasn't exactly a pushover, nor did he have any interest in meddling in Seigaku's internal affairs. But since he was a junior he admired, he simply watched someone cripple his arm and did nothing about it.

He can't.

Before the whistle blew, Mochizuki Ryo stood up, smoothing the cuffs of her team uniform jacket with her fingertips, her movements slow and elegant. She raised her wrist to signal the referee to leave the field, and after receiving a nod of permission, she turned and walked out along the passageway beside the field.

The soles of my shoes were on the scorching hot plastic floor, and I could feel the heat even through the soles.

He walked into the shadows at the sidelines, took out his phone, swiped the screen, found the butler's number, and dialed it.

It rang twice before being answered.

"Young Master." The butler's voice came steadily, with the faint beeping of instruments in the background.

"Uncle Yuanye," Wang Yueling said, leaning against the cold wall, her voice low and steady, "Have the medical team invite Professor Zhang from China, as well as Dr. Laurent and Dr. Andrew from France, to wait in the medical building. Also, arrange for a stretcher team to be waiting at the sideline entrance, ready to be deployed as soon as this match ends."

"Yes, young master, I'll arrange it right away." Butler Haruno responded, then paused and added, "Young Master Sakaki had to leave temporarily to handle some matters. Young Master Kabaji's examination results just came out; it's just soft tissue contusion and slight periosteum wear, no structural damage. He can start rehabilitation after two weeks of rest, so there's nothing serious."

Wang Yueling hummed in agreement, his fingertips swiping through the medical report the butler had just sent, flipping through page after page. When he saw the line about "periosteal abrasion," his fingertip paused for half a second before continuing to scroll down. All the indicators were within the normal range, and the location of the abrasion did not affect his ability to exert force, so the half-heartedness in his heart subsided.

"How's it going with Takashi Kawamura?" he asked casually.

There was a half-second silence on the other end of the phone. The butler's voice was a bit somber. "It's not very optimistic. It's an avulsion fracture of the lateral epicondyle of the right humerus, a complete rupture of the extensor carpi radialis brevis tendon, and a tear in the elbow joint capsule. The attending physician said that even if the surgery is successful, the range of motion of the elbow joint will only recover to about 60% of the normal level after the operation. It will be limited in terms of power generation in the future, and high-intensity tennis will be basically impossible."

Wang Yueling's fingertips stopped when she heard the words "complete tendon rupture," and her eyes dimmed slightly.

"We've already contacted the green channel at the Department of Sports Medicine at Tokyo General Hospital, and the transfer vehicle is ready. Since Kawamura is still a minor, we've also contacted his father to go to the hospital and wait for him."

"I understand." Wang Yueling replied indifferently. Just as she was about to hang up, a commotion suddenly came from the other end of the line, mixed with a boy's shouting voice, a hint of crying, and the creaking of the bed.

The noise made him raise an eyebrow and move his phone a little further away.

"I want to go to the stadium! I'm okay now! Let me out! I want to cheer for Atobe..."

He is Mukahi Gakuin.

Wang Yueling rubbed her earlobe with her fingertips, looking somewhat helpless.

The butler's voice came through again, tinged with amusement and exasperation, "Young Master, Young Master Xiang Ri has been rolling around on the bed for almost ten minutes, insisting on going to the stadium to watch the match, saying he won't be satisfied if he doesn't see the last game. He wanted to ask your opinion..."

Before he could finish speaking, there was another commotion on the other end, mixed with the nurse's quiet attempts to dissuade him.

There was a few seconds of silence from the butler, who seemed to have gone to inquire about the situation. When he spoke again, his breathing was a little rapid. "Young Master, the ambulance that was just transferring patients was about to leave when Kawamura-kun ran away while the nurses were organizing the equipment. Coach Ryuzaki is looking for him in the hallway. Would you like to send security personnel to help look for him?"

Wang Yueling stopped in her tracks.

He happened to walk to the passageway at the entrance to the stands and glanced up at the fence on the opposite side.

A figure in a loose hospital gown stood at the entrance, his back slightly hunched, his right hand in a sling across his chest, the bandage thickly wrapped, the exposed fingertips gleaming white. He was leaning against the perimeter fence, looking towards the field, his profile taut.

Wang Yueling muttered under her breath, "Idiot."

He said into the phone, "No need to look anymore, he's here at the stadium. Tell the doctor not to rush, and that his parents can come directly to this stand to pick him up when they arrive."

After hanging up the phone, he put it back in his pocket and stood on the steps looking at it for a few seconds.

Some spectators had already noticed Kawamura in his hospital gown, and a murmur of discussion arose. Some pointed, some looked surprised, and the buzzing sounds were like a swarm of bees buzzing in one's ear.

In the Seigaku stands, Kikumaru was clinging to the railing, his eyes fixed on the pitch. Hearing the noise behind him, he turned around impatiently and immediately spotted Kawamura in the crowd.

His eyes lit up, and he took off running towards the spot, his curly hair bouncing with each step. After a couple of steps, he suddenly stopped, slowed his pace, and cautiously approached Kawamura, his eyes red as he stared at Kawamura's arm slinged across his chest.

"Aron! What are you doing here!" Kikumaru's voice trembled slightly. He reached out to touch her but hesitated. "Did the hospital allow you to come out? How's your arm?"

Kawamura Takashi turned around when he heard the sound. When he saw Kikumaru, he twitched the corners of his mouth, trying to laugh. His face was pale from blood loss, and his lips were almost bloodless. His smile was somewhat forced.

Several first-graders heard the noise and squeezed over.

Katsuro leaned in closest, tilted his head back, and whispered, "Kawamura-senpai, is your arm... badly injured?"

Horio elbowed him hard, his voice a bit loud, "Of course you're okay! If you were, why would you run back to the court by yourself! Look how energetic you are, senpai!"

Shengxiong nodded in agreement, echoing, "It'll be fine, senior is so amazing."

Momoshiro and Haitang also came over. Momoshiro reached out to pat his shoulder, but then pulled his hand back halfway through, scratched the back of his head, and grinned, "You rascal, why didn't you stay in the hospital? What are you doing back here?"

Kaidou stood to the side, his eyes beneath his headscarf filled with worry. He opened his mouth, but only hissed before turning his face away.

Several people escorted Kawamura towards the Seigaku training grounds. His teammates gathered around, their faces beaming with joy. Surrounded by them, Kawamura instinctively hid his right hand behind his back, raised his left hand to scratch his head, and pretended to be relaxed.

"It's just a minor strain, nothing serious, I'll be fine after a couple of weeks of rest. I was bored lying in the hospital, so I came to get it checked out."

Fuji walked up from behind the crowd, his usually squinted eyes opening wide, his brown pupils landing on Kawamura's drooping right arm, his tone very soft.

"Are you really alright, Aaron?"

Kawamura met his gaze for a second, then instinctively looked away, chuckling awkwardly, "It's really nothing. I'll be back in training in a couple of days, don't make a fuss."

Upon hearing this, everyone around breathed a sigh of relief.

Kikumaru immediately slung himself onto Daishi's shoulder and swung back and forth, his eyes curving into crescents. "Great! Great! I thought Aaron was going to be lying there for ages!"

Momoshiro patted Kawamura's uninjured shoulder lightly. "After the match, I'll treat you to barbecue! Make sure you get some good nutrition!"

Three first-graders surrounded him, chattering away and asking all sorts of questions, instantly creating a relaxed atmosphere.

Fuji's eyes crinkled slightly, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. Inui stood beside him, his notebook turned to the latest page, the pen pausing on the paper. He glanced up at the bandage peeking out from Kawamura's hospital gown sleeve, but remained silent. Oishi frowned, wanting to say something, but looking at Kawamura's face, he swallowed his words.

Kawamura, oblivious to the subtle shift in atmosphere, glanced around, took a half-step forward, and asked, "By the way, how's the match going? What's the score now, and who's playing?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the cheers around him stopped abruptly.

The once lively crowd fell silent instantly. Several people looked at each other without saying a word.

Kawamura's smile slowly faded, and his heart skipped a beat. He turned to look at the center of the court and finally saw the two people standing at the baseline.

Keigo Atobe stood in the Hyotei half of the court, preparing to serve. His short, purplish-gray hair was soaked with sweat and stuck to the side of his neck, and his back was ramrod straight.

Tezuka Kunimitsu was standing opposite him.

Kawamura's breath hitched for a second.

The minister, whom he remembered as always calm and composed, now had a similar complexion, his lips completely devoid of color. His left arm, gripping the racket, was an unnatural reddish-purple, and even his posture was tense.

He then slowly shifted his gaze to the scoreboard.

5-3.

Youth is lagging behind in learning.

The red numbers were blindingly bright.

Kawamura opened his mouth, but no words came out.

His right arm throbbed with pain, and his heart swelled with it. His mind was a jumbled mess, with only one thought racing through his head.

How could this happen?

The same question lingered in the mind of another person.

At the edge of the netting at the highest point of the stands, Ryuzaki Jin leaned against the railing, panting. Sweat streamed down her forehead, etched into her wrinkles, and her chest heaved. As she straightened up, she caught sight of Atobe tossing the ball onto the field.

My mind went blank.

She had clearly planned out the lineup, and in a one-on-one match, she would definitely take a point against Ninjazuka.

How did it turn into Tezuka versus Atobe?!

She subconsciously looked towards the Hyotei coaching bench, and her gaze met that of Mochizuki Ryou.

The boy stood in the corridor, about to walk towards Rikkai University's viewing area. When he met Ryuzaki Sumire's gaze, he didn't stop, but simply nodded slightly, a very faint smile curving his lips, and his chin slightly raised.

Beneath that polite air of superiority lay a hint of nonchalant provocation, his eyes making it crystal clear:

Unfortunately, your setup is a bit lacking.

Long Qijin's face darkened further.

Wang Yueling didn't look any longer, turned around and walked towards the inner side of the stands. He walked slowly, his posture relaxed as he passed through the aisle, with a touch of nonchalant laziness, as if the surrounding noise couldn't touch him.

Rikkai University's viewing area is located in the middle of the stands, offering the best view.

When he walked over, a few people were huddled together talking.

Yukimura had a black cat carrier on his lap, his fingertips resting on the surface, and he was looking towards the basketball court. Hearing footsteps, he turned his head and saw Mochizuki Ryo walking over, a faint smile spreading across his eyes.

"Finished the call?" Yukimura asked softly, his voice like the wind rustling through leaves.

"Mm." Wang Yueling nodded, sat down in the empty seat next to him, and placed the cat carrier on her lap. The zipper was pulled open a crack, and Luna inside smelled the familiar scent. Her little ears twitched, she raised her head, and looked outside with her round, heterochromatic eyes, meowing incessantly, as if to say, "Human, you're finally back. I missed you."

He then picked up the kitten and cradled it in his arms.

Luna slept soundly and was in great spirits. She clung to his wrist with her paws, her cool, wet little nose rubbing against him. After rubbing against him, she stuck out her pink little tongue and licked his knuckles. Her snoring made his palm go numb.

Che was originally leaning against the railing watching the ball field, but when he heard the cat meowing, he immediately turned his head, moved his butt to the steps next to him, and tilted his head back to get closer.

"Senpai, you're back!" He lowered his voice, afraid of startling the kitten. His urchin-like head swayed with the movement, his eyes wide open. "Was that guy in the hospital gown Kawamura from Seigaku? Wasn't his arm badly injured? Why is he here? Is he really alright?"

Cilang also leaned over, clinging to the back of the chair. His curly hair was messy, and he rubbed his eyes, nodding blankly as he chimed in, "Yeah, yeah, I saw it too. He looked terrible."

Ren-ou leaned back in his chair and chuckled. He twirled an empty peanut milk jar between his fingers, and his silver braid swayed with the movement.

"Are all the people at Seigaku brainless idiots?" he asked sarcastically, with a hint of disdain. "They believe whatever the patient says. That's how it was with Tezuka in the first year of high school, and now it's Kawamura too. Nobody thinks too deeply about it. It seems they're all seriously blind and delusional."

"Would he really need to run around in a hospital gown if he were really okay? His face is so pale it looks like he's wearing three layers of powder; even ghosts would be scared of him. And to take it a step further, the guy who went with him, Kabaji, was less injured than him and hasn't come back yet, but he's the first one to appear here. Isn't that strange?"

"Puri," he added at the end, shrugging.

Liu Sheng pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose, his fingertips resting on the armrest. He sat upright, his voice gentle, yet carrying an undeniable certainty.

"From a sports medicine perspective, the intensity of the last singles match exceeded the arm load limit of a junior high school player. Given the strength of the bones and tendons of teenagers, a severe tear is highly probable. Unless a medical miracle occurs, it's unlikely to be just a simple strain."

He paused, then added, "Forcing himself to run now will only worsen his injury."

Liu sat beside him, her pen scribbling rapidly on her notebook, her voice flat and even.

"The probability that Takashi Kawamura left the hospital on his own is 92.7%, the probability that he escaped due to negligence of medical staff is 81.4%, the probability that he concealed his true condition from his teammates is 89.4%, the probability that he planned to stay until the end of the game before returning to the hospital is 76.2%, and the probability that he was taken back to the hospital by his family after the game is 98.1%."

Sanada sat down next to Yukimura, his hat brim casting a shadow, and uttered a sentence in a deep voice.

"Too lax."

"Not receiving proper treatment and running away on your own is irresponsible to your own health and also to the team."

Wang Yueling listened to their discussion without interrupting, her fingertips slowly tracing down Luna's back, then gently squeezing its soft paw pads. The kitten squinted its eyes contentedly, purring incessantly.

In fact, he thought much the same thing as Niou.

Takashi Kawamura is a passionate and stubborn man who would give anything for his team. But this same drive can sometimes hurt both himself and others.

Seigaku seems to be trapped in this vicious cycle, treating injuries as badges of honor and sacrifices as greatness. Tezuka is like this, and so is Kawamura. But they never think about what will happen after they overdo it.

Luna, having snuggled enough in his arms, turned and saw Yukimura's father beside her. She immediately wriggled and pounced towards him. Mochizuki Ryo loosened his grip, and the kitten leaped into Yukimura's arms, burying her head in his palm and rubbing against him, purring even louder.

Yukimura reached out and caught it, holding it to his chest. The kitten nuzzled against his neck and then began licking his cheeks, its wet little tongue brushing against his skin, making him laugh with ticklishness.

Yukimura tilted his head slightly to avoid the kitten's touch, then tapped the kitten's head with his fingertip.

"Stop fooling around." His tone was tinged with helplessness, but a hint of tenderness softened in his eyes. He gently scratched its chin with his fingertips. The kitten comfortably exposed its belly, its limbs outstretched, limp as a ball of black fur.

Yukimura turned his head to look at Mochizuki Ryo. The boy leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the direction of the stadium entrance, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the fabric of his cuffs, his eyes slightly unfocused.

Yukimura knew he was feeling unwell and was about to say something.

A crisp sound of a ball being struck suddenly rang out from the court.

It was crisp and loud, like a whip lashing through the air, making people's ears go numb.

"ACE, 15-0".

The referee's voice came through the loudspeaker, with a slight, almost imperceptible tremor.

The entire audience was silent for half a second, then a collective gasp filled the air.

All eyes were instantly drawn back to the stadium.

That ball was too fast.

Most viewers only saw a yellow shadow hit the baseline, twist a couple of times, and then stop. They didn't even see when Atobe swung his racket.