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

The wind blew past my ear.

The cheers continued in the distance, a cacophony of applause, slogans, and camera shutters, surging in like a tide. The Hyotei supporters were particularly enthusiastic, the words "Atobe" bouncing off the fence before drifting away again.

Reporters, cameras in hand, rushed towards Hyotei Stadium, their long lenses and tripods aimed at the boy surrounded in the middle, the shutters clicking incessantly. Some reporters casually patted the stretcher on the side, and took pictures of the dejected crowd in the Seigaku stands.

He muttered something to himself, saying something about "some people are happy while others are sad".

The stretcher slowly moved along the passageway by the field. As it passed under the stands, the chatter above drifted down with the wind, sporadically reaching our ears.

"That was a really exciting match! My palms were sweating." A junior high school coach's voice was slightly out of breath, as if he had just finished shouting. "The last few rounds were absolutely amazing. Tezuka broke through to the second realm in a desperate situation, and Atobe even had the complete version of Tannhäuser and the Throne of Ice. This is no junior high school match; even a professional match wouldn't be this good."

"You bet. It's only been a little over an hour, but it feels like two or three hours. My neck is stiff from all the rotations I've made with the ball, I can't even turn it anymore." Another person chimed in, "Hyotei is really strong this year, the coach's tactics are precise, and the captain's skill is even more frightening. Tezuka gave it his all, but they still couldn't turn it around."

"The difference in strength is obvious; the score difference is there. Some people said before that Hyotei's victory was unfair, but now it's clear that there was no unfairness in the victory; it was a pure crushing defeat."

No sooner had these words been spoken than someone nearby objected, raising their voice, "So what if the score difference is big? Captain Tezuka played through the injury to the very last ball, and even when he heard his teammates cheering him on, he still managed to break through one more time. That's sportsmanship! That's responsibility! No matter how good Atobe is, does he have that kind of willingness to risk everything for the team?"

"Going all out means risking your arm?" The middle-aged man who had spoken earlier scoffed. "Kawamura's hand was almost ruined in the last match, and Tezuka is injured like this now. Is fighting to the point of breaking your arm considered responsible? This is a middle school match, not a professional league where lives are at stake. If you really ruin your career, who will take responsibility?"

"Exactly, they're corrupting children."

Someone nearby chimed in, "I used to think Seigaku was pretty positive, but what's wrong with them now? They're all using their bodies as bargaining chips. Winning is glorious, losing is tragic, so health is the least important thing, huh?"

"That's not how it works..."

The argument between the two sides grew increasingly heated, and their voices carried far on the wind.

Tezuka on the stretcher had his eyes closed, as if he hadn't heard. Only his fingers, hanging at his sides, curled up very slightly.

-

In the crowd celebrating at Hyotei not far away, Atobe caught a glimpse of the stretcher at the entrance of the passageway out of the corner of his eye.

The smile on his face faded slightly, and his icy blue eyes glanced in that direction before quickly returning to their original position.

The team members around him were still making a ruckus. Jiro clung to his arm and chattered incessantly. Feng handed him a towel and water, and Shishido patted his shoulder and laughed.

Atobe took the towel and wiped his face, but his mind wandered for half a second without stopping.

They're all on stretchers, so the injury must be... pretty serious.

"Minister, what are you daydreaming about?" Feng asked softly when she saw him lost in thought.

Atobe immediately snapped out of it, raised his chin, and resumed his arrogant demeanor. "It's nothing."

He paused, then glanced casually toward the coaching bench.

Wang Yueling stood next to the coach's bench, on the phone, twirling his phone between his fingers. His profile looked soft in the sunlight. After hanging up, he looked up and met Atobe's gaze. He raised an eyebrow slightly and mouthed, "It's all arranged."

Atobe looked away and gave a soft hum.

Who's worried?

I just think that if I really break my hand, it will be difficult to find a decent opponent in the future.

With his arms crossed, Shinobu watched Atobe's seemingly calm back and couldn't help but curl the corners of his mouth into a smile.

Stubborn on the outside but soft on the inside.

Only he himself thought he was putting on a convincing act.

Beside the coach's bench, Wang Yueling hung up the phone and stuffed it back into her pocket.

He looked up in the direction the stretcher had gone, his azure eyes showing little emotion, but he sighed softly in his heart.

Dommage. (What a pity.)

What a promising talent! His talent, perseverance, and temperament are all top-notch...

Sigh, I've done more than enough. The rest is up to Tezuka's own fate, and whether Seigaku can learn from this experience.

only……

He turned to look in the direction of Seigaku's stands, where the group of people were still gathered together, talking about something, and their emotions seemed to have calmed down a bit.

Wang Yueling scoffed, a hint of mockery flashing in her eyes.

I guess they're just indulging in self-congratulation again, waiting for the next chance for Fuji to turn the tables.

Yes, that's always been their way.

Losing isn't scary; as long as you win the next game, all the sacrifices you made before will be worthwhile.

As for the injured?

Let's put it aside for now, and go "visit" after we win, while also praising the team spirit.

It's the same old trick.

He looked away, too lazy to look anymore. He turned and walked towards his teammates. After taking only two steps, he heard a small commotion coming from the Seigaku stands, as if someone was cheering, and the voices were quite unified.

Wang Yueling didn't stop walking, but a very faint smile appeared on her lips, which was quite cool.

really.

Even if the sky falls, there's always the next game to hold it up.

A teammate's injury?

Let's talk about it later.

……

The atmosphere in the Seigaku stands had indeed eased considerably.

Daishi took a deep breath, suppressing his frustration and self-blame, and clapped his hands to attract everyone's attention.

"Don't be discouraged, everyone." He kept his voice steady, with a reassuring tone. "We only lost the singles match two. We still have a chance. In the next singles match one, Fuji will play. If we win, we can still advance."

As soon as he said that, the people around him slowly raised their heads.

Momoshiro scratched his head, clenched the crumpled support flag in his hand again, and nodded emphatically, "Oishi-senpai is right! It's just one game lost! We still have Fuji-senpai!"

"Exactly!" Kikumaru sniffed, wiping the tears from his eyes, and regained some of his usual energy. "Fuji is our genius! He'll definitely beat Oshitari!"

The three first-graders squeezed to the front and nodded repeatedly.

Satoshi Horio gripped the small flag and shook it vigorously. "Fuji-senpai is so amazing, there'll definitely be no problem!"

"That's right! Only Atobe is good at Hyotei, the others are no match at all!" Katsuro chimed in, his face flushed red.

Katsuo, standing to the side, added in a low voice, "Shinobu-senpai is pretty good too... but he definitely can't beat Fuji-senpai."

The group chatted amongst themselves, and the atmosphere gradually warmed up, the frustration of the earlier loss largely dissipating. It seemed as if victory was a foregone conclusion as long as Fuji played.

Seeing everyone regain their spirits, Oishi felt a little relieved. He turned his head and looked at Kawamura Takashi, who was standing at the very front of the fence.

Kawamura stood with his back to everyone, still wearing a large hospital gown, his right hand hanging at his side, a bandage peeking out from his sleeve, its whiteness glaringly obvious. He stood ramrod straight, staring at the medical building across the stadium, seemingly lost in thought.

Daishi walked over, his heart clenching. He raised his hand and gently patted Kawamura's uninjured left shoulder, the touch very light.

"Aron, don't overthink it." His voice was gentle, with a hint of comfort. "When Fuji plays in the next round, he'll definitely be able to carry on your and Tezuka's legacy and win together."

When he said the name "Tezuka," his voice paused, sounding a little weak.

He subconsciously turned his head to look at Fuji Syusuke, who had been standing silently to the side, his eyes filled with a desire for approval.

"Right, Fuji?"

Fuji Syusuke slowly turned around.

His brown pupils reflected the expectant gazes of his teammates, his expression calm. Hearing Oishi's words, the corners of his mouth curved slightly, and he nodded slowly.

"certainly."

His voice was soft but firm: "I will bring victory back to Seigaku."

These words were like a reassuring pill, and a wave of relief instantly swept through the area.

"I knew Fuji-senpai would be fine!" Momoshiro pumped his fist, grinning and showing his white teeth.

"Great! Great!" Kikumaru jumped up, his curly hair bouncing. "With Fuji around, we're sure to win!"

Everyone chattered amongst themselves, smiles returning to their faces, as if victory was already in sight.

Daishi also breathed a sigh of relief and subconsciously glanced across the court.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw that scan.

The half of the Seigaku stadium was completely empty; there wasn't a soul in sight.

Where's Tezuka?!

His heart sank. He had been so focused on comforting everyone that he had completely forgotten about the minister.

He hurriedly took two steps forward, grabbed the fence and looked down. The Seigaku field was empty, with only staff picking up balls and tidying up equipment. There was no sign of Tezuka.

"Where's Tezuka?"

His voice trembled as he frantically turned to Ryoma Echizen on the coaching bench and asked, "Echizen! Have you seen where Tezuka went?"

Ryoma Echizen sat in the coach's chair, his hat pulled low, twirling a tennis ball in his hand. Hearing the question, he looked up, a hint of confusion in his amber eyes, and shook his head.

"I don't know."

He was so focused on the match, on Tezuka's level of skill, on Atobe's serves, that he didn't even notice when the other person left.

Daishi panicked even more.

"How could I not know! He just finished a match, and his arm is still injured!" His voice was urgent, and sweat beaded on his forehead. "How could he just disappear?"

His shout brought the people around him to their senses.

"Huh? The minister is gone?" Momoshiro was taken aback, then looked into the arena as well. "Really? Wasn't he just standing there a moment ago?"

"Could he have gone to the restroom?" Kikumaru asked, tilting his head.

"That's impossible, his arm is injured like that..." Daishi paced anxiously, sweat pouring down his forehead. "What do we do? Where did he go?"

A group of people were in a panic, looking at each other, none of them knowing the answer.

Just then, a nonchalant, slightly mocking voice came from the stands behind, "Looking for someone now? Isn't it a bit too late?"

Everyone turned around.

Cheng Chengxiangnan's Wakato Hiroshi leaned against the railing in the back row, his hat askew, a mocking smile playing on his lips. He shook the bottle in his hand and slowly added, "Never mind, I'll tell you out of kindness! The person was already taken to the Mochizuki family's medical building on a stretcher. They looked pretty badly injured. You guys were probably too engrossed in your conversation to see."

After he finished speaking, he chuckled, turned around and sat back down in his seat, still muttering to himself.

"No wonder no one noticed that our captain played with an injury for two years. They were all blind to it. It's quite a failure to be a captain like Tezuka."

The sound wasn't loud, just enough for the people from Seigaku to hear.

Momoshiro's face flushed red instantly, and he clenched his fists, trying to back away. "What did you say?!"

"Never mind, Momo." Oishi quickly pulled him back, his face a little pale. "Let's not talk about this now... Tezuka went to the medical building, we..."

He stopped halfway through his sentence.

Everyone looked at each other, a little awkwardly.

Should we go see the minister at the medical building?

But the next singles match is about to start, and Fuji is about to go on stage. Everyone has left, so who will cheer for Fuji?

Besides... even if I went now, I wouldn't be of much help.

Inui Sadaharu pushed up his glasses, flipped through the notebook in his hand, and broke the silence with his voice.

"According to the data, although pushing oneself to the limit will increase the physical burden, the power of the realm will buffer the damage, and the aftereffects of acute injury will not immediately manifest. Tezuka is doing his best, so there won't be any major problems for the time being."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Momoshiro immediately chimed in, as if he had found a reason. "Senior Inui is right! The club president is so steady, he'll definitely be fine! There's no use in us going there now, we can only worry and disturb his rest."

"Exactly!" Kikumaru nodded in agreement. "After the last game, let's go see him with the good news of our victory. He'll be even happier!"

"Besides," Momoshiro scratched his head, "the medical staff on the sidelines didn't come to notify us, which means the injury isn't serious. If it were really serious, they would have called us long ago."

With each person chiming in, they quickly resolved the issue.

Oishi frowned, still feeling a little uneasy, but seeing everyone else saying the same thing, and glancing at Fuji who was about to go on stage, he finally nodded.

"That's true." He forced a smile. "Let's watch the game first. Once Fuji wins, we'll go to the medical building together."

Everyone nodded, as if they had finally let go of their burdens and turned their attention back to the upcoming singles match.

Nobody suggested going to the hospital immediately.

Nobody said that it would have been enough to send two people over; the whole team didn't need to wait.

It seems that as long as we wait until we win the game to go, the previous oversights won't be considered oversights, and the previous indifference won't be considered indifference.

Takashi Kawamura remained silent.

He stood by the railing, his eyes downcast, looking at the bandages sticking out from under his hospital gown. When he heard Tezuka being carried to the medical ward, his heart skipped a beat; he felt a pang of panic.

But when I heard everyone say that we should wait until we win, it made sense.

Going there now wouldn't really be of much help.

Moreover... he ran away secretly. If he went to the medical building now, he would definitely be caught by the doctor and taken back, and he wouldn't be able to watch Fuji's match.

He bit his lower lip, feeling a little confused.

Just then, Horio suddenly shouted, "Fuji-senpai is going on stage!"

Kawamura also looked up at Fuji's composed back, and the unease in his heart suddenly dissipated.

Yes, win the game first.

After winning the match, I'll go see Tezuka, then go back to the hospital.

That's correct.