APTnovel Chapter 198 Atobe's Angry Revenge: Who Will Bear the Responsibility?
Chapter 198 Atobe's Angry Revenge: Who Will Bear the Responsibility?
The atmosphere in Hyotei's rest area was much colder.
As soon as Kabaji stepped off the stage, he stood straight in front of Atobe, his eyes lowered, like a silent tree. His right hand was behind his back, his knuckles slightly white, and the muscles in his forearm twitched uncontrollably twice.
Atobe sat in the coach's chair, his right leg crossed over his left, his fingertips tapping the metal armrest. The tapping was slow, but it made one's heart tighten. His gaze fell on Kabaji's hands behind his back, his brows furrowed, and his expression was not good.
"Take it out."
Hua Di didn't move, his lips pressed into a straight line.
"I'm telling you to take it out." Atobe's tone became more serious, and he tapped his fingertip on the armrest, the crisp sound standing out clearly against the noisy background.
Kabaji slowly pulled his right hand out from behind his back. His palm was red from being rubbed raw by the racket handle, and his wrist was slightly swollen from the impact of the few powerful shots he had just received.
Atobe stared at the redness and swelling for two seconds, then scoffed, his tone barely concealing his anger: "You've gotten quite the expert, huh? Mukahi just went into the medical ward, and you want to join in the fun?"
When Kabaji heard Atobe's question, he nodded obediently: "...No, Lord Atobe."
"Don't know what you're talking about." Atobe rarely swore, his brow furrowing as he looked at Atobe's still-twitching hand, his voice lowered: "What did I tell you before the game? Don't try to catch dangerous balls, don't get injured. What were you doing just now?"
Kaba stood before him, looked up at his words with a hint of confusion in his eyes, then glanced down at his trembling right hand, his fingertips still slightly numb, and said in a muffled voice:
"That ball... I can catch it. My hand... is fine."
"Nothing wrong?" Atobe raised an eyebrow, his lips tightening into a straight line. He gave a cold laugh, his tone carrying an imposing, authoritative air. "Your wrist is shaking like this, and you're telling me you're fine? Do you want to be carried out once before you learn your lesson?"
Kaba opened his mouth, his Adam's apple bobbed, but he ultimately remained silent.
Atobe stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly stood up, his gaze level with Kabaji's. His tone lowered slightly, not as aggressive as before, but the undeniable authority remained.
"It's not that I don't want you to fight. It's true that you can't win tennis without fighting."
As Atobe spoke, he reached out and tapped Kabaji's wrist. His fingertips didn't touch the skin, but Kabaji instinctively curled his fingers.
"But you need to distinguish between what it means to 'give it your all' and what it means to 'trade your health for points.' In your current state, those last few shots were already using the ligaments in your wrist to hold the ball down. Do you want to play like that in the next game?"
Kaba lowered her eyes, her eyelashes casting a narrow shadow on her cheekbone, and replied sullenly, "...No more."
"You won't learn? Don't try that with me." Atobe crossed his arms again, a slight smirk playing on his lips, but it wasn't a real smile. "I'll give you a 50% discount on your 'you won't learn'. Listen... from the next game onwards, you're not allowed to try to catch those high-speed spinning ripple balls again."
Your primary task is to protect your hands.
If your opponent hits the ball, return it if you can, otherwise just let it go. What I want is for you to be able to walk off the court on your own after this match, not to have to be carried off. Losing a game is no big deal, but losing your arm in the process is something I can't afford to do.
you understand me?"
Kaba looked up at him, a hint of hesitation in his eyes: "But, the score..."
"I know the score better than you do." Atobe interrupted him, casually grabbing a towel draped over the back of the chair and tossing it at him. "You have me and Oshitari behind you, you're not all alone. But if you cripple your hand, who will play in the National Tournament? Hyotei won't be able to compete without you, Kabaji Takahiro, who will take your place?"
He paused after speaking, then added, "This is an order."
Kabaji was silent for two or three seconds, then nodded, his voice low and steady: "Yes, Lord Atobe."
Atobe snorted and looked away. He turned his head and glanced at the stands behind him.
Ryo Mochizuki was sitting in the row where the Rikkai and Hyotei stands met, or more precisely, to the right of Seiichi Yukimura. He had one leg crossed over the other, his elbow propped on his knee, and his chin resting on the back of his crossed hands, looking in their direction.
The moment their eyes met, he gave Atobe a playful wink with his left eye and raised the corners of his lips.
"This guy can't be serious for more than three seconds."
Atobe watched his action, his lips twitched, he let out a very soft "humph" through his nose, rolled his eyes without any attempt to hide it, and turned back to continue tapping the armrest.
As I tapped, the rhythm of my fingertips slowed down by half a beat.
He didn't say it aloud, but he had already changed his mind.
No wonder Mochizuki Ryo insisted on having him sit on the coach's bench before the match, saying things like "the captain's presence gives him a strong aura." He even complained at the time that the other guy was prioritizing women over friends, refusing to sit in the coach's seat and instead squeezing in with Rikkai's people. Now he completely understands; this guy had clearly calculated Kabaji's stubborn temperament.
If it were Mochizuki Ryo sitting on the coach's bench, Kabaji might not have held back at the crucial moment.
But if I speak up, Kabaji will definitely listen.
So leaving him here is like providing the last safety net for the birch trees.
This guy's risk predictions are so accurate they're infuriating.
"Hmm, you do have some good taste," Atobe muttered to himself, turning back to look at the venue and lightly tapping the armrest with his fingertips.
Kabaji had already changed to a spare racket and was standing up to stretch his shoulders. The tremor in his right hand was less severe than before, but you could still see the veins on the back of his hand were taut when he gripped the racket.
Atobe caught a glimpse of the hand out of the corner of his eye, and instead of saying anything harsh, he simply said in a low voice, "Remember what I said."
He added, his tone turning colder: "Also, don't hold back just because your opponent is injured. He's responsible for the path he chose. You just need to stick to your bottom line."
Kaba turned to look at him and hummed in response.
……
Over here, Wang Yueling withdrew her gaze and looked down at the kitten in her arms.
Luna was pawing at the Elizabethan collar around her neck with her little paws. Her head tilted back and forth, trying to bite the edge of the collar with her teeth. After a couple of attempts, she couldn't reach it and angrily kicked the side of the cat carrier next to her with her hind legs.
Yukimura gently pressed down on the back of its head: "Don't bite anymore, just wear it until tomorrow."
Luna tilted her little head up to look at him, her little mustache twitching, and she opened her mouth and meowed as if in protest.
Yukimura didn't let go, but just rubbed the base of its ear with his fingertip. Luna's ears twitched, it struggled for two seconds, and finally gave up resisting, resting its chin on the edge of the cat carrier, looking utterly resigned.
Wang Yueling glanced at it, reached out and straightened its bread ring, and whispered, "If you keep licking your wound, I won't let you take it off next month."
Luna turned her head away and buried it in Yukimura's arm, leaving only her round back of her head facing him.
Yukimura's lips curved into a smile as he looked up at the field. The referee had already signaled that the match was ready, and Kawamura and Kabaji returned to their respective positions.
"You said..." Yukimura turned his head to look at Mochizuki Ryo, his voice not loud, "Will Kabaji really listen to Atobe?"
"Yes." Mochizuki Ryo leaned back in her chair, her blond hair swaying slightly in the wind. "Kabaji has never disobeyed Keigo's orders."
"So do you think Kawamura will listen to Coach Ryuzaki?"
Mochizuki Ryou didn't answer immediately. She paused for two seconds, staring at Kawamura's back on the field, then shook her head: "No."
Why?
"Because Coach Ryuzaki didn't tell him to forfeit," Mochizuki Ryo said calmly. "She might have said not to play, but she didn't say 'it's the coach's order.' She left that choice to Kawamura himself."
Yukimura didn't reply, but just glanced down at the kitten in his arms. Luna was peeking her head out from under his arm, curiously watching the two big guys running back and forth on the field, her tail swishing back and forth.
"She couldn't do it," Mochizuki Ryo added. "With Coach Ryuzaki's personality, after Kawamura clearly stated that he wouldn't forfeit, she wouldn't be able to forcefully stop the game. The players are already injured; she's afraid that if she stops it and they lose, no one will take responsibility."
Yukimura gave a soft "hmm" and said nothing more.