JSWGAS Chapter 36

Chapter 36 36.

Chapter 36 36.

36.

Kokonoe Taka makes it a habit to jog for about ten minutes every morning for the past few years.

He woke up promptly at six o’clock. Seeing the unfamiliar ceiling, he was slightly dazed. He blinked for a while before remembering that he was at his maternal grandfather’s house. Kokonoe Taka quickly changed his clothes, folded his quilt, and walked to the window to look outside: the snow had stopped.

He walked out of the room. The mansion was quiet, and everyone else was still asleep.

He sat in the entryway to put on his new running shoes, tied the laces, moved his ankles slightly, and then opened the door. Before leaving, he hesitated for a moment before whispering to the quiet entryway, “I’m leaving.”

It was equally quiet outside. There was no wind, and the accumulated snow had been cleared away. Kokonoe Taka wasn’t familiar with the area around the Tsurumi house, but he was sure he wouldn’t be like a fool and get lost because he didn’t remember the way.

Now, he just needed to focus on moving forward.

There were not many people on the streets. The world was peacefully quiet. When he turned a few corners and ran onto the city’s main street, there were more people: an old man walking his dog, a shop owner opening his shop, and several cars carefully driving on the road, afraid of skidding.

His exhaled breath was quickly left behind, and his heart beat strongly. After running for a while, he felt completely warmed up. Plus, there was gradually more noise and traffic on the street, so he turned again and ran into a small path.

This small path was lined with holly trees, their leaves a rare green in winter. Some snow remained on the branches. He slowed down for a moment, staring at a bird’s nest vaguely visible in the tree canopy, wondering if there were any residents inside. His pace slowed even more, as if waiting for a bird to fly out of the nest.

However, this expectation was destined to be a regretful disappointment. The path was not long, and even at a slow pace, he only ran on it for less than a minute. He didn’t see any birds flying out of the nest before he left it.

At this point, Kokonoe Taka realized that the path led to a community park.

There were many people exercising in the park early in the morning, and Kokonoe Taka didn’t stand out among them. Everyone was focused on the path beneath their feet. Sometimes, people running ahead of him would turn around and leave after a while, or disappear onto small paths he didn’t know.

He adjusted his breathing and quickened his pace. There was a river next to the main road in the park, and the distant scenery was shrouded in a cold mist, so he could only make out the undulating mountains. He ran onto the bridge connecting the two banks, and the air, carrying a hint of water and cold, instantly gripped his lungs.

This didn’t stop him. After running off the bridge, he noticed that there weren’t many people exercising on this side of the bridge; there were more people walking their dogs. The dogs didn’t seem sluggish in the winter, only caring about barking happily and pulling their half-dead owners from one side to the other as if they were having a blast.

The dogs were panting, and the people were panting too.

Kokonoe Taka couldn’t help but smile. When he passed the lively dogs, he deliberately made a face at the animals’ bright black eyes, and then ran past them. Immediately after he passed, constant barking came from behind, mixed with the dog owner’s weak shouts, “Slow down! Beans! I can’t keep up…”

The sky gradually brightened. After running for a while, the scenery on both sides changed subtly. Kokonoe Taka slowed down and glanced at his watch: six twenty-four. If he didn’t go back soon, his mother might worry.

Although he thought so, he hesitated to take another step, stopping completely instead.

What drew his attention was an old tennis court.

Honestly, this was probably the most dilapidated tennis court Kokonoe Taka had ever seen. The entrance was piled with dry grass, the wire mesh separating the tennis court was rusty, the white lines inside were barely visible, and the net was half-buried in the snow. It was clear that no one had visited it for a long time.

Kokonoe Taka walked up the steps, laboriously pulled open the door, and went inside. As soon as he entered the court, his attention was completely captivated.

His fingers circled in the air, as if holding a familiar racket; the other hand also held a non-existent tennis ball. Even though the white lines were blurred, he found the service area by feel.

He closed his eyes, as if he were on a court, with an empty space in front of him and his opponent waiting in anticipation.

His body didn’t feel cold in the chilly wind. His fingers slightly curled…

Just as he was about to ‘toss’ the ball, a loud, rusty creak from behind interrupted the competition scene in his mind.

He abruptly snapped back to reality, the prepared action stopped, and he turned his head warily to look in the direction of the sound—where a wheat-skinned mixed-race boy was standing, awkwardly withdrawing his hand from the iron gate.

Kokonoe Taka: “…” Ah, how embarrassing.

His face stiffened, and he realized what he had just done. He regretted not being able to resist the urge to play tennis—the problem was that he actually did it! And a stranger saw him!

He looked at the visitor, so embarrassed that he wanted to disappear. The other person clearly felt the same way, chuckled twice, “Um, I saw the gate was open, so I came to take a look… I’m sorry for disturbing you!”

…Did he think I was a weirdo?

He thought desperately, and replied: “…No, it’s okay. I was just coming in to take a look.”

He silently walked out of the tennis court, and nodded stiffly when passing the stranger, “Excuse me.”

Kokonoe Taka: …Quick, leave now!

That was the only thought in his mind now.

He stepped back onto the park’s running path, but this time, his mood was completely different from before: if he had been relaxed and content before, now he was uncomfortable all over and wanted to escape immediately.

A strange voice called out from behind: “Hey, mister! Hey! Wait a minute…!”

Kokonoe Taka immediately quickened his pace and ran forward with his head down. The voice shouted a few more times and then disappeared, followed by another series of quick, urgent footsteps. He quickly glanced back as he turned: the mixed-race boy was chasing closely with a fierce look on his face!

Why was he chasing after him?!

Kokonoe Taka gritted his teeth, was provoked, and simply sped up. The person behind him shouted something in Kansai dialect that he didn’t quite understand because he spoke so fast, which Kokonoe Taka left behind as he ran.

As he sped up, the world in front of him seemed to be receding rapidly, chasing after him in reverse. His heart gradually heated up, and the blood flowing through it seemed to be rolling around in magma, flowing through his internal organs, limbs, and bones, dispelling the cold and making him tremble with heat.

This was the fastest speed he could reach. People on the side of the road only felt a gust of cold wind blowing past. A shadow crossed them and ran forward –

“So fast!”

“Is he a professional track and field athlete?”

“I feel like you couldn’t catch up even on a bike…”

Such conversations took place on both sides of the road he passed.

Kokonoe Taka, running, was completely unaware. He was wholeheartedly immersed in the feeling of taking steps and stepping on the earth.

Although he often trained his strength through long-distance running, this was the first time he had rushed forward so recklessly. His breathing was heavy, and the heart in his chest was roaring excitedly to him for the first time in a long time. Pain came from both sides of his waist and abdomen, embracing him in the cold air, and the pain was proof of life. It was a completely different feeling from playing tennis.

He thought.

By the time he finally stopped, the surrounding scenery was already very unfamiliar.

…It seems like I’m lost.

Facts prove that people really shouldn’t make rash statements.

Kokonoe Taka pressed his fingers against his side, looked left and right, and had to admit it. He stood there and adjusted his breathing, intending to call Tsurumi Sumiko to explain that he might be a little late in returning.

“…No way?” But he couldn’t find his phone after searching all over.

Kokonoe Taka stuffed the pockets he had turned out back in: Could it be that he was running too fast just now and his phone accidentally fell out?

He had no choice but to walk back in shame.

He hadn’t walked far before he ran into a familiar face: it was the mixed-race boy who had witnessed him playing tennis in the air at the tennis court.

“Finally…finally, I caught up with you.” The other person was out of breath, propped himself up on his knees, and tremblingly raised a hand to offer something, “Your, your phone fell out, I wanted to give it back to you, but you were running too fast…”

“…”

Crap, how embarrassing.

Kokonoe Taka was silent for a moment: “…Thank you.” He said sincerely, “You’re a really good person.”

The other person waved his hand, looking like he wanted to complain but couldn’t. He finally said: “Your phone rang just now. I answered it. The person who called was named Takeuchi, and he told me to catch up with you…”

“Takeuchi coach?”

Kokonoe Taka opened his phone and saw Takeuchi’s name in the call history: “Did he say what it was about?”

“He said something about a competition…” He recovered his breath, stood up straight, and asked curiously, “Are you a long-distance runner?”

“…No, I’m not,” Kokonoe Taka replied, “I play tennis—at least I still do now.”

“Tennis…but you really run fast. When I was following you, I saw that even several skateboarders behind you couldn’t catch up.” He said with emotion, “Oh, right, my name is Ojiro Aran, and I play volleyball.”

“Kokonoe Taka.” After exchanging names, “Thank you very much, Ojiro-kun.”

After watching the kind Ojiro-kun leave, Kokonoe Taka called Takeuchi back. The phone was answered after only two rings. He continued to walk back slowly, “Takeuchi coach?”

“Yo, Kokonoe, good morning.” The other party’s voice was cheerful, “Although it seems a bit too early…”

“…If you know it’s too early, don’t call at this time.”

Takeuchi laughed twice, “What does it matter? The result is good.”

Kokonoe Taka sighed slightly: “So what did you call me for?”

“Well…actually, it wasn’t me, it was Echizen, Echizen Nanjirō.” Takeuchi pondered for a moment, “He seems to have heard from a friend that I’m your coach, and then contacted me, saying he wanted to meet you.”

“Meet me?”

Although Kokonoe Taka knew there was such a person, he had never met him. He frowned, and his tone became somewhat aggressive: “What’s the point of meeting me? Why would he pay attention to me?”

But Takeuchi laughed again: “Oh, he did tell me the reason. Don’t get angry when I say it, okay?”

Kokonoe Taka said stiffly: “…Please tell me.”

“‘I heard that that guy is very talented and can barely be used as a whetstone for my kid’—that’s the original quote, okay? It seems like he wants you to have a match with his son. By the way, he has two sons now, the older one is about your age, and the younger one is only four or five years old. They’re both learning tennis, okay?”

“…Let me play with the older one or the younger one?”

The devil whispered: “Well, I’m not sure about that. Maybe the older one? Of course, the younger one isn’t impossible either…Echizen Nanjirō has high expectations for his youngest son, you know?”

Kokonoe Taka was about to refuse, but then he heard Takeuchi’s tone sink, pretending to be regretful: “It’s okay if you don’t go, after all, you still have a hand injury, and you haven’t trained properly during this time. You’ve even forgotten how to hit slices, right? It would be a pity if you lost too many points…”

“…” He couldn’t say the words of rejection.

Takeuchi coaxed: “What do you think? Are you going?”

No one could remain calm under such provocation, right?

“…Go,” he finally agreed, grinding his teeth, “When? Where?”

“Don’t worry, just wait until the New Year is over, after you go to Tokyo.” Takeuchi said with a smile, “I’ll send you the address and time by email later—although Echizen is very arrogant, his skills are also top-notch, maybe you can look forward to the student he taught.”

This sudden news disrupted his peaceful life. Tsurumi Sumiko was unexpectedly surprised and pleased to see her son silently pick up his racket again, showing 100% support.

The yard behind the Tsurumi house was quite large. After drawing the approximate range of the court with branches, Kokonoe Taka began wall-hitting training. He hadn’t touched tennis for quite a while, but now that he was starting basic training again, he didn’t seem rusty.

Fifty forehand shots, mainly at the baseline, making sure the ball landed in the center of the wall; rest for a few minutes, and then do fifty backhand shots. Tsurumi Sumiko stood on the porch, closed her eyes slightly, and tapped her fingers to the rhythm of the ball hitting.

Watching Kokonoe Taka’s training was a pleasure. The steady and powerful footsteps, the nearly identical ball-hitting sounds, the refined and concise movements, and the focused and quiet eyes all made this scene a complementary blend of movement and stillness.

Tsurumi Sumiko watched for a while and couldn’t help but hum an impromptu tune that matched his rhythm. The sudden ringing of the doorbell startled her. Tsurumi Sumiko stopped humming, glanced at her son who wasn’t distracted by the bell at all, and hurried to open the door.

Mrs. Miya was standing at the door.

“Oh, why are you here?” Tsurumi Sumiko hurriedly stepped aside to let her in. Mrs. Miya sighed slightly and looked hesitantly behind her—two identical boys jumped out from behind her.

“Actually, we asked Mom to bring us here!” One of them rushed to say.

“Mom said there’s a boy about our age at the Tsurumi’s house, and we want to play with him,” the other one added.

Mrs. Miya held back the two children who wanted to rush into the Tsurumi residence, “That’s it—sorry, I’m bothering you.”

The two children honestly bowed with her. Tsurumi Sumiko waved her hand, “It’s okay!” She squatted down, “What are your names?”

“I’m Yū!”

“…Osamu.”

Tsurumi Sumiko stroked the two boys’ fluffy hair: “Okay, little Yū and little Osamu, you’re very welcome. But Taka is training, so he might not have much time to play with you—”

“Training? Training what?”

“Tennis,” Tsurumi Sumiko said proudly, “That kid is very good at playing ball.”

One of the boys thought for a moment and grabbed his brother: “Can we watch him train if we don’t disturb him?” He raised his hand. Tsurumi Sumiko then noticed that the child was holding a lunch box in his hand.

“This is?”

“It’s rice balls Yū and I made! A gift for our new friend!” Miya Yū answered quickly.

Miya Osamu kicked him unhappily, “It’s clearly what I made with Mom…”

Tsurumi Sumiko chuckled, “Well, then, come in.”

The Miya brothers cheered and rushed into the house, “Excuse us!” Mrs. Miya, following behind them, wanted to grab them back with a cross on her forehead, telling them not to be so arrogant at someone else’s house. However, Tsurumi Sumiko stopped her, “It’s okay, they’re just kids.”

She welcomed Mrs. Miya in: “By the way, I heard from my mother that you’re very good at handicrafts? I happen to have some questions, I wonder if I can ask you about them…”

“Of course! Don’t be polite…”

Miya Yū and Miya Osamu, who rushed into the Tsurumi residence, saw the person training in the backyard without much effort.

Miya Osamu quickly grabbed Miya Yū, “Don’t get so excited.” He whispered, “It won’t be good if Mom and Aunt Tsurumi find out…”

Miya Yū stopped at his tug, looked at the lunch box in Miya Osamu’s hand, “I know.” He put on a straight face, suppressing his flamboyant eyebrows.

—Miya Yū and Miya Osamu’s intentions weren’t as simple as they said.

When the two were lying in bed that night, they slowly realized that being scared by someone pretending to be a ghost was a very embarrassing thing. Especially when the person who scared them said something about ‘dog’ afterwards—Miya Yū swore to Miya Osamu that that person was definitely referring to them, and Miya Osamu’s response was: “You really are Dog Yū.”

But after Miya Yū paid the price of a pudding, Miya Osamu easily defected and joined his prank plan.

The lunch box that Miya Osamu was holding in his hand was the result of their research: rice balls squeezed with at least half a bottle of mustard sauce———this idea was thought up by Miya Yū.

“When will he stop?” He couldn’t wait to see the look on the other person’s face when he ate the mustard rice ball.

Kokonoe Taka was completely unaware of the ill intentions of the visitors.

He repeated the action of swinging the racket, his eyes fixed on the bright color of the tennis ball. He alternated between a set of backhand shots and backhand slices, sending out his right arm after fully rotating his shoulder, his feet moving non-stop, and his movements changing quickly. At this time, he could no longer feel the flow of the wind. The entire world he was watching only had the tennis ball jumping to his heart’s content.

Echizen Nanjirō.

He silently recited the name in his heart. The other person’s competition was extremely powerful, and for a time, the coach used it as a template for him to learn from.

And besides that, he also represented another…

His thoughts stopped there instantly. The original stable rhythm was disrupted, and the tennis ball bounced twice on the ground before he caught it. The grip of the dark red tennis racket was a bit damp. How many minutes had he been playing? He glanced at his watch, longer than originally planned.

The familiar aches came from his arms and legs. Kokonoe Taka took a deep breath, wiped his forehead, and turned to walk towards the house.

As soon as he turned around, he met two pairs of bright eyes.

Two unfamiliar faces.

He asked hesitantly, “You are…?”

One of the two faces had a smile, and the other had a lazy downturned mouth. Hearing his question, the smile on the first face stiffened: “You don’t remember me?” He grabbed the corner of his brother’s clothes incredulously.

“It’s normal not to remember…” The person being grabbed had a somewhat sour expression, seemingly not as nonchalant as he appeared.

Kokonoe Taka walked back to the room. As soon as he got close, the two uninvited guests shivered from the cold air on him. Kokonoe Taka closed the door and heard his mother and another woman talking and laughing in the living room from afar. “Mom’s guests?” he asked.

“Miya Yū.” The smiling one said.

“Miya Osamu.” The other one was a step slower.

Kokonoe Taka picked up the clean towel prepared by Tsurumi Sumiko and wiped his face, “Kokonoe Taka, my name… Oh, it’s you.” He remembered something, suddenly realized, draped the towel over his shoulder, and smiled strangely, “The twins who are afraid of ghosts?”

Miya Yū whispered to the brother next to him: “Can I stuff the thing we prepared into his mouth now?”

Miya Osamu responded in a low voice: “I don’t think you can beat him.”

They both fell silent, recalling the training scene they had just seen.

“Only temporarily,” Miya Yū said stubbornly.

Kokonoe Taka watched the two of them get together and whisper for a long time, interrupting them: “So, what are you two here for?”

Miya Osamu pinched Miya Yū, “We’re here to apologize.” He said in a very sincere tone, “Didn’t this guy hit you during a snowball fight? He felt very guilty after going back, so he asked Mom to bring us to apologize.”

He said it so beautifully that it caused Miya Yū to look at him in surprise. But he was dissatisfied with Miya Osamu using him as an excuse. Before he could protest, Miya Osamu glared at him and said in a low voice: “Do you still want to complete the plan?”

Miya Yū could only admit aggrievedly: “Yes, I’m very sorry for accidentally hitting you that day… But it’s weird that you were sitting in that place! I didn’t even see that there was someone there!” But at the end, his words became a soft accusation.

Miya Osamu closed his eyes in despair.

Kokonoe Taka raised his eyebrows and smiled ambiguously: “So you didn’t realize in the end that I was deliberately scaring you?”

Miya Yū: “…I can’t take it anymore, Osamu.”

Miya Osamu: “…”

Although Miya Osamu also felt his fists itching slightly, he managed to endure it and carried on the script, but his tone inevitably gritted his teeth: “This is our apology!”

He handed out the lunch box without much hope.

Kokonoe Taka glanced at the lunch box and looked at the twins with nervous expressions: “What’s this?”

Miya Yū said reluctantly: “Rice balls.”

Kokonoe Taka grunted and unexpectedly took the lunch box and took out a rice ball from it. The Miya brothers immediately cheered up and watched his movements eagerly: Eat it quickly!

Just then, Kokonoe Taka’s actions, just about to put the rice ball in his mouth, suddenly stopped.

Miya Yū almost couldn’t hold back his expression, while Miya Osamu barely managed to steady his voice: “Is there something wrong?” He thought that he had wrapped the mustard sauce in the rice ball tightly, so it shouldn’t be detected.

Kokonoe Taka leisurely took the rice ball away from his mouth, with an embarrassed expression: “I just suddenly realized, it doesn’t seem good for me to eat alone? These rice balls are so big, we should be able to divide them into portions and eat them together, right?”

Miya Yū: “…Osamu, quickly think of something!?”

Miya Osamu: “…You piece of trash, calm down!”

Miya Osamu racked his brains: “This is a special apology gift we prepared for you,” he quickly glanced at the rice balls, his face faintly green, “How can we compete with you?”

Miya Osamu sometimes used honorifics when speaking, and saying it in a flat tone inevitably made people feel that this person was being sarcastic. Miya Yū quickly interjected, “Yeah, this is all Osamu’s heart!”

“Is that so?”

Kokonoe Taka frowned slightly, put the rice ball near his nose and sniffed lightly, but didn’t catch any strange smell. Miya Yū watched his movements and only felt his heartbeat going up and down. In the end, he simply snatched the rice ball, broke off a small half, and threw it into his mouth: “I, Osamu and I wouldn’t hurt you!” Even though tears were instantly spiced out, he still had to blame it, “Look! Nothing happened to me when I ate it!”

Miya Osamu silently blocked his teary-eyed brother. He thought that Yū was an idiot and he would never try a mustard rice ball, “Did you think we put something bad in it?” But when it came to being aggressive, he was not inferior to Miya Yū at all.

Kokonoe Taka looked at the two of them amusingly. He wasn’t a fool, so naturally he saw Miya Yū’s appearance of not being able to hold back his tears. …Was it chili? Or did they put too much salt?

But if he continued to bully them, his conscience, which he didn’t know where he had thrown, couldn’t help but ache faintly.

So he bit into it without hesitation.

The rice ball was separated in his mouth by his teeth, somewhat cold and sticky. But he didn’t taste any strange or intense flavors———no imagined spiciness, nor any excessive saltiness or sweetness, and not even the aroma of the rice itself. What he chewed and swallowed seemed to be not a rice ball, but a blank piece of paper.

He covered his mouth uncomfortably and immediately realized that something was wrong.

Then he raised his eyes to look at the Miya brothers blinking their eyes: “What did you put in the rice balls?”

He spoke Japanese very standardly, without the twists and turns of Kansai people’s speech, and his voice was much darker than that of his peers. At this time, deliberately lowering his voice and covering his mouth, was in Miya Yū’s eyes the performance of being tricked.

Miya Osamu didn’t have time to stop him. Miya Yū laughed, “It’s mustard!”

“Mustard?”

Kokonoe Taka repeated, absentmindedly putting the remaining rice ball in the lunch box: there was indeed a pale yellow, viscous sauce in the middle.

His tongue pressed against his upper palate, then pressed tightly against his canines, carefully searching in his mouth.

But the conclusion remained unchanged: he did not taste any irritating taste.

Miya Yū was very happy. The success of the prank was enough to make him happy, and even the previous small conflicts could be generously abandoned.

Miya Osamu glanced at the brother who had all his thoughts written on his face, and then turned to stare at Kokonoe Taka’s face. He was much more sensitive than Miya Yū when it came to eating, but he didn’t find a look of discomfort on Kokonoe Taka’s face from being spiced by the mustard sauce.

He showed unexpected stubbornness and asked, “Did you really taste it? Mustard.”

Miya Yū poked him, puzzled: “What’s wrong, Osamu?”

Miya Osamu blinked: “Yū, do you see him having the expression of being spiced like an ugly pig like you?” Not forgetting to bury his brother.

Miya Yū: “Say that again! I’ll really get angry!” He and Miya Osamu stared at Kokonoe Taka together, “It seems… not. Could it be that you put it in wrong, Osamu?”

He simply reached out and hooked a little of the sauce from the rice ball and put it in his mouth: “So spicy!” He gasped, unable to breathe. The pungent taste spread throughout his mouth and nose, and he couldn’t help but shed tears.

Miya Osamu ignored his foolish brother and cautiously opened his mouth: “Could it be that you can’t taste it?”

Kokonoe Taka, who was being questioned by him, was also thinking about this question at this time. He covered his mouth and quickly recalled the biscuit he had recently described as ‘tasting like chewing wax’———pushing the timeline further back, it was the hospital’s patient meal. At that time, most of the reason he wanted to leave the hospital was also because he felt that the hospital’s food had no taste.

What about further back?

The banquet that Kokonoe Hikohito took him to.

He couldn’t help but resist his teeth again, recalling the cup of orange juice that made him want to vomit and the bland cake.

These were a few incidents where he noticed the taste of the food was strange. But he mostly regarded it as the food itself having problems, or simply a coincidence, rather than his own reason. Until now, after tasting the rice ball with mustard in it, he finally understood that there was something wrong with his sense of taste.

Kokonoe Taka then answered Miya Osamu: “It seems so.”

The Miya brothers looked at each other.

Kokonoe Taka didn’t even look at them and continued to think: Only during these times did he obviously feel the abnormality of his sense of taste. At other times, although he would feel that the taste was light, he could still taste the taste of the food.

He suddenly raised his foot and walked towards the living room, startling the Miya brothers.

“What are you going to do?”

“Are you going to tell Aunt Tsurumi?”

Kokonoe Taka took a few steps forward before answering them: “No, confirm something.”

After a pause, he turned back to them and said: “I still need to ask you to do me a favor.”