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

Atobe had just reached the bottom of the steps at the edge of the field when he heard this and paused for half a second.

He turned his head, his icy blue eyes sweeping across half of Seigaku's court, and let out a soft hum. His short, purplish-gray hair, still damp with a thin layer of sweat, brushed gently against his neck in the breeze.

He raised his hand and tugged at the collar of his team uniform, without turning around, and simply walked towards the stands.

Kabaji followed behind him, carrying Atobe's racket bag and water bottle, his steps steady. Jiro and Mukahi skipped along beside him, muttering about the trophy. Shishido and Ootori walked a little behind, while Hiyoshi, carrying his racket, brought up the rear, his eyes occasionally glancing towards the center of the court.

"Sasha..."

The hissing sound of the referee testing the microphone came from the sidelines' loudspeaker; the faint electrical hum pierced my eardrums for a moment before being swallowed up by the wind.

In the front row of the stands, Luna was clinging to Yukimura's wrist, her two little front paws gripping the fabric of his sleeve, her neck stretched out, her ears perked up as she peered down the court. Her black tail was taut and straight, the tip swaying gently, and her round, heterochromatic eyes locked onto the greyish-white figure emerging from the players' tunnel.

"Meow~"

It cried out, the last syllable of which was drawn out.

Yukimura glanced down at it and was about to pull Luna closer when the little black cat was already dangling in mid-air, its front paws desperately reaching forward and its hind legs kicking against his forearm. If he hadn't been supporting its bottom, it would have fallen right off.

The Hyotei fans, who had just walked from the players' tunnel onto the stands, heard soft, meowing sounds, gentle and cheerful.

Atobe subconsciously looked up.

Half of the front row seats at Rikkai University were empty, where Mochizuki Ryo had sat before. Yukimura sat in the very center, holding a cat. The little black cat on his lap clung to his wrist, its little head constantly peering in his direction, its tail wagging rapidly.

"Meow meow!"

Luna recognized the "fragrant two-legged beast" and grabbed Yukimura's arm with her paws, trying to jump down. Her little paws made his arm feel slightly heavy, and she kneaded him repeatedly, looking very anxious.

Yukimura pressed his fingertip against the tip of the kitten's swaying tail, his eyes crinkling as he looked at Atobe and his group approaching.

"If Atobe-kun doesn't mind, please sit here." He pointed to the few empty seats next to him, "These are the seats where Ling sat before; they have a good view."

Atobe paused, his icy blue eyes sweeping over the empty seats before looking up in the direction of the sound, his gaze immediately landing on the black fur ball dangling in mid-air, its four paws kicking wildly.

Seeing him coming closer, Luna got even more excited, meowing and wagging her tail like a rattle, her whole body screaming "Come on, come on!"

Atobe stood there for two seconds, raised an eyebrow as if he wanted to say something, but then swallowed it back.

Oh well, it's the last game anyway, it doesn't matter where I sit.

Besides, Rikkai's stands do indeed have the best views, directly facing the center line, offering a panoramic view of the entire stadium. It's perfect for watching how Oshitari plays up close.

He didn't refuse any further. He raised his chin, walked to the chair first, and added the sentence as he sat down, his tone somewhat reluctant.

"Oh, well, I'll reluctantly sit for a while then."

He moved gracefully, his back ramrod straight, and as soon as he sat down, a weight pressed down on his legs.

Luna went completely wild the moment Atobe sat down.

It leaped out of Yukimura's arms, took a few steps and landed on Atobe's legs. Its two hind legs stood straight, and it patted the "0" team emblem embroidered on its chest with its front paws. Then it raised its paws and gently patted the back of Atobe's hand. Its little head bobbed up and down, and its meows were drawn out.

"Meow...meow meow."

That expression was exactly like saying, "Minister, you did a great job, this cat is very satisfied."

Atobe looked down at the human-like cat on his lap, head held high and looking completely serious. He paused for two seconds, then his lips twitched: "...Are you trying to say that I did a good job?"

"Meow!" The tail stood even straighter.

A muffled laugh, barely suppressed, came from the sidelines.

Shinobu was standing in the warm-up area very close by, glancing over from a distance, his smile still on his face.

Atobe glared at him, while Oshitari raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and turned back to continue stretching his shoulders.

"You little thing, you dare to comment on me?" Atobe looked away, raising an eyebrow. He stretched out his index finger and gently poked the kitten's round belly, landing right on the "0" icon.

"That's quite a grand affair."

The force was very light. The kitten lost its balance and fell backward. Its four paws flared in the air a couple of times before it lay face up on Atobe's legs, its belly exposed, its four legs curled up. It was stunned for several seconds before it came to its senses.

It let out a small "ha," opened its mouth to reveal a bit of its pink tongue, and looked a little angry.

A few low laughs came from the surrounding area.

Niou leaned back in his chair, elbows on the armrests, his shoulders shaking with laughter: "Puri, this cat is too easy to bully."

"Atobe-kun, bullying a kitten isn't very elegant," Yukimura added gently.

Sanada, sitting next to him with his hat pulled low, turned his head to look at him when he heard this, his lips twitched, but he didn't say anything.

Atobe snorted and was about to say something when Luna rolled over and shook her fur. She stared at Atobe for two seconds, as if she had thought about it, and finally decided that "a kitten doesn't hold grudges against adults" and wouldn't bother with this two-legged creature.

Turning its head away, flicking its tail, it turned around and ran back to Yukimura's side on its short legs, plunging into the cat carrier and rummaging around for a while.

It picked up something and ran back.

The small metal tags hanging around their necks clattered together.

It ran back and forth, carrying small cloth fish, small cloth fish bones, kitten biscuits, star-shaped tweezers... and several other small trinkets whose purpose was unclear, one by one, and placed them on Atobe's lap. After running back and forth seven or eight times, the kitten was panting heavily, its tongue sticking out a little, and it lay down next to Atobe's lap, panting heavily.

Atobe looked at the mess of little things piled on his lap, then at the kitten's trembling back as it panted heavily. He reached for the mini baby bottle lying next to him, tested the temperature with his fingertips, and brought it to the kitten's mouth.

"You're so stupid. Why are you running so fast? Nobody's going to take it from you."

Despite his complaints, he handed over the bottle with a steady hand.

Luna immediately rushed over, clutching the bottle with her two little paws, and gulped down several large mouthfuls, her tail wagging with satisfaction. Once she had enough, she released her grip, licked her lips, nudged the pile of little toys on her legs with her paws, took two steps back, puffed out her little chest, and pointed proudly at the pile of treasures with one of her little paws, then pointed at Atobe.

Its heterochromatic eyes are round and bright, as if to say, "Choose one, they're all my treasures."

He had such a generous demeanor, like a little king who possessed a treasure trove.

Atobe's lips curled up slightly at the amusement of the toy, and he reached out to ruffle the pile of crumpled toys, his tone carrying his usual arrogance, "I don't care for these crumpled things."

The kitten, who was drinking milk, immediately stopped and tilted its head upon hearing this. When it realized the other person disliked its gift, it was shocked, its round eyes widening as if it couldn't believe its treasured possession was being rejected.

It hesitated for a long time while holding the bottle, reluctantly letting go of the nipple, and finally, as if it had made a huge decision, pushed the bottle towards Atobe.

The cat held the bottle in its two little paws and offered it to the bottle, its ears drooping slightly, looking every bit the reluctant parent. It was as if to say, "This is my favorite, you can have it, okay?"

His adorable expression made the people around him burst out laughing.

"puff."

Niou couldn't help but laugh out loud, leaning forward and saying in a teasing tone, "Oh dear, the young master of the Atobe Group, actually stealing a kitten's milk bottle. This will definitely make headlines."

Atobe glanced at him sideways, his icy blue eyes filled with displeasure.

"...Mind your own business."

Yukimura's fingertips traced the kitten's back as he smiled gently, but his words carried a hint of sarcasm. "Atobe-kun, it's a bit too heartless of you to refuse even a kitten's feelings. It's been saving these treasures for a long time..."

"If you don't accept it, it'll probably be sad all night. This child is stubborn; once a gift is given, there's no reason to take it back."

His tone was calm, but it carried a hidden barb; the subtext was that if you don't accept it, you're bullying a kitten, and I'll get you.

When Luna heard Yukimura's father speak up for her, she chirped at the opportune moment and drooped her ears a little.

"Based on the data I've collected," Liu leaned out from behind, adding a timely data point, "Kittens are extremely possessive of their food bowls. Willingly sharing their bottles is a very high level of recognition. This behavior occurs less than 7% of the time. Moreover, according to Mochizuki Ryo, this goat milk powder is incredibly rare; Luna usually only drinks two bottles a day. It's very commendable that she's willing to share. If Atobe-kun refuses, it will negatively impact her socialization."

Sanada frowned, his eyes beneath the brim of his hat showing disapproval, and his deep voice came through: "Atobe, don't betray its trust."

Niou laughed even harder, leaning on Yagyu's shoulder and shaking. It was rare to see Atobe attacked by a mob, especially over a kitten; this was quite a spectacle.

Atobe: "..."

How did he become someone who bullies cats?

He looked down at the kitten on his lap. The little guy was still holding the bottle in mid-air, tilting its head back and looking at him expectantly, its heterochromatic eyes wet, as if covered with a layer of mist.

Atobe paused for two seconds, then reached into the pile of trinkets and picked up the yellow star-shaped lamp. It was made of plastic, and the lamp surface was worn and old, with a few small teeth marks on the edge—clearly, it had been chewed by a cat.

It lights up when you squeeze it, and it definitely looks like something kids would like.

Atobe pinched the kitten's head between his fingertips and shook it gently, then tapped the kitten's head lightly with his fingertips.

"Okay, this one will do."

Luna was startled by the tap and blinked, confused.

"Your dad..." Atobe paused here, as if considering his words, and finally changed his words, "That guy Mochizuki Ryo won a bet with me and will provide you with food, clothing and shelter for five years. Consider this star as compensation."

Luna tilted its head, clearly not understanding. Seeing that Atobe had accepted the fairy light, it happily wagged its tail twice, lowered its head, picked up the pacifier, put it in its mouth, and sucked on it several times, its cheeks puffing out.

Hearing the phrase "five years' worth of food, clothing, and lodging," Yukimura's smile deepened. He looked up at Atobe, his tone thoughtful: "So, what you and Ryo were betting on... was whether Tezuka would play in singles match number two?"

"...Ah." Atobe stuffed the fairy light into his pocket, his tone reluctant to admit it. "He insists Tezuka will definitely play. I think as long as he has the captain's pride, he won't. The bet is five years' worth of food for each of our cats and dogs."

"You lost the bet." Yukimura's eyes crinkled into a smile.

"Ah, well, I just didn't expect Tezuka to be that stupid." Atobe turned his face away, reached out and poked Luna's little belly again, this time much lighter. "...Alright. From now on, your cat food, cat litter, and cat food are all mine."

Luna made a muffled "mmm" sound while sucking on the pacifier. It was unclear whether she understood it or not, but she seemed quite happy.

On the steps behind, Jiro and Mukahi, unable to contain themselves any longer, quietly moved next to Marui and Kirihara. The four of them squatted in a small circle, their heads very close together, whispering in hushed tones, but unable to hide their excitement.

"Did you see that trophy Ling took out?!" Xiang Ri exclaimed first, her eyes sparkling. The bandage on her head was slightly askew from the movement. "It's all crystal! It's so dazzling in the sunlight!"

Cilang nodded vigorously, his curly hair swaying wildly. "It's so beautiful! There are words on the base too, carved by Ling herself! I peeked at it when I passed by just now, and it said—'The Ultimate Genius.'"

"The greatest genius..." Marui chewed gum, leaned on the railing and looked towards the coach's bench, his eyes fixed on the crystal trophy, muttering to himself.

"Hmph, what a clever name. The real genius is right here, isn't he? The other two on the field are just so-so."

He patted his chest, tossed his hair, and looked confident.

Once Oshitari gets the trophy back, he'll definitely challenge him to a fight and snatch it away. How could the title of genius be left out of Marui Bunta's name?

Upon hearing Marui's words, Kirihara immediately jumped up from the steps, his eyes still fixed on the trophy, filled with longing: "Marui-senpai, you've got it wrong! Rikkai's ace is me! The title of greatest genius should of course be mine too! Next training camp, I'll ask Ryo-senpai to challenge Oshitari-senpai, and if I win, the trophy is mine!"

"Hey, hey, hey, what are you saying!" Marui reached out and ruffled his hair, making his already messy seaweed-like hair even more frizzy. "When I was playing tennis, you were still wearing open-crotch pants! You're trying to steal my genius title, are you asking for a beating?"

"That's for sure!" Kirihara shoved his hand away, his eyes wide. "I've been training really hard lately! Even Yanagi-senpai said I've improved! I'll definitely surpass you in six months!"

"Renji said that's how he talks about everyone who makes progress."

"No, that's not true..."

The two started arguing, their voices growing louder and louder, attracting the attention of several rows of spectators nearby. Kuwahara stood in the middle, trying to stop them from either side, but to no avail. In the end, he simply took a half-step back and let them argue.

Jiro leaned closer, tilting his little face up to look at Marui with eyes full of admiration, "Bunta was really good. His net play was so cool."

He paused for a moment, then frowned with a hint of worry. "However... it seems very difficult to get the trophy from Ling."

"Alright, alright," Mukahi, leaning on the railing with a thick bandage on her head, interjected, "Stop arguing. That trophy belongs to Yuushi."

"Why should I?!"

"that is!"

"Because Ling prepared it for him." Xiang Ri rolled his eyes. "Unless you let Ling test your skills first, don't even think about it. Have you forgotten the Peach King Competition at the training camp a while ago? Those peaches looked delicious, but winning them was difficult. This trophy is just like those peaches—it looks tempting, but it's actually very tough!"

Upon hearing this, Kirihara and Marui both fell silent for half a second. They exchanged a glance, simultaneously recalling the "Peach King Tournament" during their training camp. After their defeat, the training sheet printed with cartoon peaches contained a whole week of doubled basic training, extra physical conditioning, and tactical reviews written until the early hours of the morning.

Marui was the first to look away, chewing his gum with a loud smacking sound: "...Hmph, it's not like I necessarily want it."

Kirihara also shrank back, muttering softly, "That trophy...that trophy wasn't that great..."

Jiro was laughing so hard he couldn't stand up straight, grabbing Atobe's arm and shaking it twice: "Hahahaha, you guys were just saying you were going to steal it!"

"Shut up, Cilang!"

"that is!"

The four little ones chattered amongst themselves, their conversation ranging from the trophy to desserts, and then to the fun of the training camp. They got along better and better as they talked. Kirihara even pulled out a game cartridge from his pocket and exchanged strategies with Jiro, completely forgetting his earlier sadness.

Sanada frowned deeply, about to say that they were too lax, when he heard the referee's whistle from the center of the field.

"Beep~"

A sharp whistle pierced the air, and the murmurs in the audience gradually subsided.

"Singles Match Number One, please enter the arena now. Both players, please take your positions."

The referee's voice, tinged with a static crackling, came through the loudspeaker and echoed throughout the entire stadium.

The stands immediately erupted in commotion, with everyone's eyes turning towards the players' tunnel.

Fuji Syusuke stepped out first, his chestnut-brown hair brushing against his forehead, a gentle smile playing on his lips, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons—he still looked as gentle and kind as ever. He walked to the Seigaku coaching bench, whispered a few words to Ryuzaki Jin, and then turned and entered the field.

On the other side, Yuushi Oshitari's short, dark blue hair was neat and clean, and his black-rimmed glasses reflected the sunlight. He walked at a leisurely pace, his hands in his sweatpants pockets, still with that lazy and casual demeanor, but there was a hint of seriousness in his eyes than usual.

The two players walked to the net, nodded briefly in greeting, and the referee walked over with a coin to decide which side it was.

The results came out quickly.

"The match officially begins. Fuji from Seishun Academy serves."

The referee's voice carried clearly.

The entire venue fell silent instantly, and even the wind seemed to slow down.

Oshitari stood at the baseline, adjusting his glasses with his fingertips. He glanced towards the Rikkai Grandstand and saw the little black cat on Atobe's lap, happily licking its baby bottle.

He then shifted his gaze to the direction of the coaching bench.

Wang Yueling sat in the coach's chair, his fingertips casually tracing the rim of the crystal trophy. Sunlight fell on the crystal, refracting into tiny spots of light that flickered across his face. He looked up, his azure eyes holding a hint of amusement, and a touch of seriousness.

Seeing him look over, she raised an eyebrow slightly.

There were no extra movements, and he didn't say anything.

But the meaning was clear: I'm watching.

Oshitari's lips curled into a faint smile. He tightened his grip on his racket, his gaze passing over the net and landing on Fuji Syusuke on the other side.

He took a deep breath, his fingertips brushing against the strap of the racket handle. For two months, he had been training in front of the ball machine until late at night every day. Ling had been with him, scrutinizing every detail of his movements, even breaking down the angle of force application.

Today is the day to verify the results.

He not only wants to win, but he wants to win beautifully, to be worthy of the trophy, and to justify all the nights he's stayed up.

"I'm sorry, Fuji-kun."

His voice wasn't loud, just loud enough for the other person to hear; his tone was lazy, yet full of confidence.

"Hyotei has claimed this victory. It's time for the title of genius to change hands."

As soon as he finished speaking, the entire room fell silent for a moment, then erupted into a small uproar.

That's arrogant enough.

Fuji's smile faded slightly, but he didn't get angry. He weighed the tennis ball in his hand, twirling it between his fingers, and calmly focused his gaze on Shinobu.

"yes."

He said softly, "Then we'll have to give it a try."

That's what he said, but he didn't really take the other person seriously. He knew Shinobu's strength from the tournament; although his technique was comprehensive, he didn't have any particularly outstanding killer moves. It's only been two months; even with guidance from Nozomi Ryougi, how much improvement could he possibly make?

In today's match, he will slowly find the opening and then strike decisively.

Before he finished speaking, he tossed the ball, jumped, and swung his racket.

The movement was fluid and seamless; the yellow tennis ball, spinning powerfully, hurtled straight towards Shinobu's backhand. It was a standard high-speed flat serve, very fast and without much fancy technique.

He practiced this kind of shot for three years, and he could hit it to the most difficult position with his eyes closed.

The ball goes over the net, lands, and bounces.

The ball speed was a bit faster than when it was at the Grand Prix.

The thought flashed through Shinobu's mind, but he didn't move. He stood in front of the landing point, waiting for the ball to bounce, then swung his racket and hit it with a backhand.

The movements were swift and decisive, without the slightest hesitation.

The effects of two months of weight training were fully demonstrated at this moment. The racket made a crisp sound when it hit the ball, and the ball speed was almost twice as fast as it came, with a strong flat spin, heading straight for the dead corner of the baseline.

Fuji's pupils contracted slightly.

That ball is so heavy.

Moreover, he hadn't seen the ball's arc, spin, or landing point clearly; it was too fast. So fast that before his instincts could even send commands to his body, the ball had already hit the baseline and bounced extremely low.

He hastily reached out to catch it, and the moment the racket touched the ball, a tremendous force traveled up the handle, making his hand go numb.

With a "click".

The racket flew out of his hand, traveled half a meter, and landed on the plastic court with a dull thud.

The ball bounced off the baseline and landed within the bounds.

"Score! Hyotei scores! 15-0!"