JSWGAS Chapter 11

The enormous raindrops haphazardly pounded against the car’s windshield, the splashed water fragmenting the reflections of the people inside into countless pieces. It was raining. Kokonoe Taka tilted his head to look out the window, his left hand unconsciously pressing against his abdomen again.

The scenery outside the window flowed by silently, the flickering lights shimmering with eerie and dreamlike colored halos. His thoughts wandered, and he unconsciously thought of his mother at home and her friend he had never heard of.

Is she really okay? He couldn’t help but wonder. In a home that often consisted of just the two of them, his mother often played the role of someone who needed to be taken care of. He stared at the misty glass, his eyes unfocused.

She had seemed a little absent-minded during dinner on Wednesday, mistakenly throwing sugar into the stir-fry pan instead of salt. That night, they had to order takeout. When Kokonoe Taka went out for a night run, he bought rice balls at the convenience store, and even used a box of drinks to shut up Oikawa Tōru, who was standing next to him and laughing loudly.

The car stopped. Kokonoe Taka came back to his senses, his body leaning forward with inertia.

“We’re here.”

Kokonoe Hikohito pulled up the handbrake, and the car quickly stalled. He paused and said to his son in the back seat, “There’s an umbrella behind the seat.”

It was a transparent folding umbrella, with a delicate pendant tied to the bottom, seemingly with a faint fragrance. Kokonoe Taka frowned slightly, but before he could think deeply, Kokonoe Hikohito spoke again: “Taka, be respectful in a moment, don’t talk nonsense. If you’re asked a question you don’t know how to answer, leave it to me.”

He immediately lost his desire to delve into it, and lowered his eyes with annoyance. He opened the car door, held up the umbrella, and walked into the rain.

Kokonoe Hikohito was a little dissatisfied and quickly followed. He scrutinized Kokonoe Taka’s face and frowned, asking, “Didn’t Sumiko make you a proper meal? You look terrible.”

“Mom is fine.” Kokonoe Taka said coldly, “You don’t even come home, what right do you have to say such things?”

Kokonoe Hikohito’s arrogance weakened: “…That’s not related to this!” He said stiffly, “If I didn’t work hard, how would you and Sumiko live!”

“I don’t care.”

“How can you talk to your father like that!”

Kokonoe Hikohito’s face was livid, but the entrance to the venue was close at hand, and he had no choice but to take a deep breath to calm his emotions. After giving a few low-voiced warnings, he stopped there.

Entering the venue felt like entering another world. The lights were bright, warm, and lively. Kokonoe Hikohito slightly straightened his tie, a flattering smile on his face.

Almost as soon as they entered, someone came over with a glass of wine to greet them: “Kokonoe? Oh, it’s been a long time. We haven’t had many opportunities to get together since you retired.”

“Mr. Miyama! You’re here too! How have you been recently?”

A wave of unbearable twisting pain came from his stomach again. It was so uncomfortable, he wanted to run away.

Why could he instantly put on a flattering smile? Why did he have to say subtle and flattering compliments to praise the other person? Kokonoe Taka stared at the scene, as if trying to engrave his father’s smiling face on his retina.

“Thanks to you, I’ve been doing well recently… Mori-senpai and Kawakami-senpai are relying on your training a lot. Not only me, but the people above are also very happy about this.”

“It’s all because the players I encounter are excellent to begin with! It’s very easy for me to coach them.”

“Hahaha…” The man in the dark suit suddenly noticed the quiet boy following behind Kokonoe Hikohito, “Oh, Kokonoe, this is…”

Kokonoe Hikohito quickly replied, “This is my son, Taka. Come on, this is the person in charge of organizing the JR Tournament, Mr. Miyama Masaki.”

A large hand pushed his shoulder, and Kokonoe Taka was pulled out from behind his father and pushed in front of Miyama.

“Hello.”

Kokonoe Taka said expressionlessly.

It was like a product exhibition. The item was polished, packaged, and placed in front of visitors for them to admire, allowing them to see its value. But even with a cold face, Kokonoe Taka’s still young face didn’t have much of a deterrent effect on people who had been in the business world for a long time.

Miyama simply nodded with a smile, “I remember, Kokonoe Taka… the champion of several major tournaments? So you’re his son! Oh, as expected, like father, like son? I envy you.”

“Not at all! This kid only knows how to practice tennis all day long, and he doesn’t have anything particularly outstanding besides that. If we’re talking about excellence, he can’t compare to Mr. Miyama’s son…”

Did complimenting the other person by belittling oneself really make people feel satisfied? What was the starting point?

Perhaps because of the continuous stomach cramps, one idea after another that he couldn’t understand flashed through Kokonoe’s mind.

…He really wanted to escape.

Kokonoe Hikohito walked in front, stopping from time to time to greet other guests at the venue. Kokonoe Taka drooped his eyelids and followed behind, taking the word perfunctory to the extreme.

Kokonoe Hikohito smiled and saw off another guest, then turned his head and frowned: “Hey, what’s wrong with you? Did you eat something bad? More than one person has reminded me that you look terrible.”

“Tsk, luckily I’ve seen almost everyone… There are hot drinks and desserts over there, go over there first.”

What was this, being discarded after being used?

Kokonoe Taka silently moved his heavy steps forward.

He took a cup of hot orange juice and a plate of small cakes, and sat on the sofa in the corner. The sofa was partially blocked by the leaves of the green plants, making it very hidden.

Kokonoe Taka took a sip of the hot drink and looked out through the gaps in the plants.

In addition to sponsors, organizers, and coaches, the exchange meeting was also attended by many tennis players with some fame. There were young players of high school age, and old players with mature faces. Kokonoe Taka’s gaze fixed on his father, who was surrounded by a group of players, then quickly frowned and refocused his attention on what was in front of him.

…It was so bitter. What was this taste? Had it gone bad?

The bright orange juice, with some bubbles gathered on top, emitting steaming white gas, didn’t look spoiled at all. But as the liquid entered his mouth, his throat moved, and after swallowing, the taste feedback he got was a bitterness that made him nauseous.

It was as if the juice had been contaminated by dirt, gall, and rotten things, causing an involuntary desire to vomit. Kokonoe Taka put down the cup and frowned as he put the cake in his mouth.

But the sweetness of the cake was also like chewing on waste paper, and he could no longer feel the joy and satisfaction that sugar brought with each bite. He pushed the roof of his mouth with the tip of his tongue and didn’t move the remaining cake on the plate—Kokonoe Hikohito was walking towards this side with someone.

…

…………

“He cheated.”

Sakagami Mai had to tightly grip Kokonoe Sumiko’s hands to prevent her from continuing to rub the skin on the back of her hands with her fingernails.

Kokonoe Sumiko raised her head, trying to put on a smile. But the stiff facial muscles seemed to be necrotic, her mouth twitching, and finally she gave up and lowered her head. Sakagami Mai reached out and put her arm around the woman, who immediately leaned over as if she were someone drowning and grabbing a piece of rotten wood.

This was a somewhat offensive, overly intimate action, and it shouldn’t have been done by her in the first place. But with Kokonoe Sumiko’s psychological defenses collapsing now, she desperately needed something—it didn’t have to be a person, it didn’t even have to be alive—she just wanted to find something to rely on.

“I—I was originally a violinist.” Her brown eyes looked at her with horror and sadness, the timeline of her story jumping a lot, “Last week, I decided to start trying to play the violin again.”

She paused, her eyes slightly unfocused, “Mrs. Oikawa next door heard about this. She is a very good friend of mine and was sincerely happy for me—so, she invited me to go to a classical music concert together.”

–

September 28th, Wednesday.

“So, let’s go?”

Oikawa Miwako sat in the driver’s seat, fastened her seat belt, and cheerfully announced, “Yay! A double date for Miwako and Sumiko!”

“Come on, Miwako, you’re really something, why are you still like a little girl?”

“Oh, ever since I stopped taking care of that brat in my family, I feel like I’ve gotten more than ten years younger!” Oikawa Miwako said with a grin, “Thanks to your Eagle and the Iwaizumi kid. As a mother, seeing that some———one can finally shut that brat up, I’m really, very———very happy!”

“So don’t keep a straight face, relax a little, okay?”

Kokonoe Sumiko laughed, “I’m a little nervous. After all, I haven’t paid attention to classical music for two or three years, and I was shocked to receive your invitation.”

“It was actually a coincidence. Ryūsei’s friend happened to be a member of the orchestra, and he gave him two tickets. You know, my husband has absolutely———no artistic talent at all, and Tōru has no interest in this at all.”

The car steadily drove onto the driveway, “It just so happened that I remembered that you used to be a violinist, so I invited you with the mentality of giving it a try—it’s a great help that you didn’t leave me alone!”

Even if she said that, Kokonoe Sumiko knew in her heart that Miwako just didn’t want her to feel too burdened. She silently accepted this kindness and began to look forward to the concert.

The concert was very successful, and the songs chosen were all works by famous composers. After the concert ended, Oikawa Miwako left first to drive the car from the underground parking garage, while Kokonoe Sumiko stood at the door waiting for her.

“Eh? Senior Tsurumi?”

At first, Kokonoe Sumiko didn’t realize that someone was calling her. It wasn’t until the voice was right behind her that she hesitantly turned around—Tsurumi, her maiden name before she got married. No one would call her that now.

“Senior Tsurumi!” The other person’s tone was affirmative and surprised.

The person who came was wearing a slightly formal suit, his hair and eyebrows neatly trimmed. He had small wrinkles on his face, was tall, and had broad shoulders, looking mature and sincere. Kokonoe Sumiko subconsciously showed a restrained and somewhat cautious smile, “Uh, are you?”

She racked her brains to search for images related to this face in her memory, but came up empty—seeing the awkward expression on her face, the person hurriedly said, “It’s me—Ibuki, Ibukijima, the pianist from the music club!”

Ibuki?

Kokonoe Sumiko stared at the face that had already grown out for a moment in confusion—“The little Ibuki who fell when he was too nervous to perform on stage for the first time?”

She suddenly understood and hurriedly said such a long sentence. Ibuki showed a helpless expression after hearing it: “…Senior Tsurumi, why do you remember this kind of thing so clearly?”

“Sorry…”

The other person was startled by Sumiko’s expression, “It’s not a big deal, there’s no need to apologize.” He pointed to his back, “After all, I won’t make such a low-level mistake now.”

“The pianist today—could it be, you?” Sumiko asked in surprise.

“Yes, it’s me.” Ibuki touched the back of his head embarrassedly—in her memory, there seemed to be such a tall and thin junior who liked to touch the back of his head when he was embarrassed, “Symphony No. 5 and La Campanella, these are two songs I really liked when I was in high school, and now I’ve finally realized my dream of playing them at a highly anticipated concert.”

“That’s really amazing!”

“Not really…” Ibuki said modestly, “It’s more like Senior Tsurumi… ah, no, I should call you Kokonoe… Back then, we juniors all thought that you would continue to pursue music even after you got married…”

Kokonoe Sumiko was stunned and smiled bitterly: “Ah, that… I haven’t played the violin since I got married.”

“Eh? Is that so?” Ibuki was taken aback, “He didn’t mention it when I saw Senior Kokonoe last time…”

He muttered to himself, then hesitantly asked, “Isn’t Senior Kokonoe the one who brought you here?”

“…Hikohito?”

“I gave him the tickets,” Ibuki said, “Senior Kokonoe said that he would definitely bring you over to support me if he had the time.”

Kokonoe Sumiko was silent for a moment, Ibukijima carefully observing her expression: Could it be that he had said something wrong? No matter how you looked at it, Kokonoe Sumiko’s expression was too strange.

“Sorry.” Kokonoe Sumiko said, she didn’t know why her mind was so clear at this moment, and she didn’t even have the real feeling of standing in this world.

“–Excuse me, when did you see Hikohito?”