JSWGAS Chapter 96

“——Is this the method you came up with?”

“…Ugh.”

“So,” Iwaizumi Hajime was not at all misled by Oikawa Tōru’s feigned pitiful appearance, “What exactly did you say to Taka?”

“Anyway, telling Iwa-chan is useless. It wouldn’t be good if he got a fever before the match from thinking too much!” Oikawa Tōru perked up and raised a smile full of superiority, “Besides, this is a secret between me and Taka!”

Iwaizumi Hajime calmly turned around and grabbed a volleyball. When Oikawa Tōru felt a bad premonition, he turned back and smashed it down, “Secret my ass!”

Oikawa Tōru shouted and fell directly to the ground. Just as Iwaizumi Hajime was about to continue using a combo move to wake up this guy who never learns from his mistakes, Matsukawa, with quick eyes and hands, grabbed him from behind.

“The preliminaries are tomorrow!” he shouted sincerely, “Although I also agree with you, Iwaizumi, using your ‘Iwa-punch’ to fix Oikawa’s smart mouth, it’s better to leave it until after the match—”

Hanamaki then strolled past the two, reaching out to Oikawa Tōru who was lying on the ground: “Is there some kind of program in you that starts fanning the flames as soon as Iwaizumi gets close? Or are you a masochist? Are you uncomfortable if you don’t get hit?”

“That’s so mean!” Oikawa Tōru gritted his teeth, “Also, if you’re going to pull me up, don’t suddenly pull your hand back!”

Hanamaki finally surrendered after reaching out and pulling back his hand several times. After pulling Oikawa Tōru up from the ground, he touched his chin: “But it’s rare, not seeing Kokonoe.”

He and Matsukawa hadn’t heard the previous exchange between Oikawa and Iwaizumi.

The day before the match, coaches at basically every school would give the players a day off to recharge their batteries. However, for the training maniacs who report no matter the wind or rain and treat the gym as their second home, this day of rest was nothing more than converted into independent training.

Oikawa was one, Kokonoe was one, and Iwaizumi usually played the role of supervisor, dragging the two workaholics home – although he sometimes joined the other two.

Adding it all up, it was quite rare to be missing one of the training maniacs from the training field at this time.

“Could they have had a fight?”

The half-joking guess was not denied. Oikawa Tōru slowly picked up the volleyball that Iwaizumi had just used to hit him. He didn’t look at Matsukawa, who had asked the question, nor did he speak up to refute, but instead focused his gaze on the ball basket half a court away. The other two couldn’t help but stiffen their expressions: “No way.”

But thinking about it carefully, maybe some traces had already been revealed from a certain day. However, the most important thing was: “It’s definitely Oikawa’s fault, right.”

The unison of Hanamaki and Matsukawa made Oikawa, who had just thrown the ball into the basket, abruptly turn his head, “Huh? Where did you guys get that conclusion from!”

“Stealing the tamagoyaki from Kokonoe’s plate, deliberately laughing loudly and trying to take pictures when Kokonoe made a mistake. Oh, and during home economics class, knocking over the ingredients that Kokonoe had prepared, causing Kokonoe to get a low grade…”

“Too numerous to count.”

“Unforgivable.”

Oikawa Tōru felt that Hanamaki Takahiro and Matsukawa Issei were singing a duet, one serious and one joking, which made him clench his back molars, “That thing in home economics class – I didn’t do it on purpose! It was an accident! I just accidentally bumped into it!”

Hanamaki said, “So the others were indeed intentional?”

Matsukawa said, “Indeed intentional.”

Iwaizumi Hajime sneered at the right time, filled with the mocking implication of ‘how many times have you not done it on purpose.’

Oikawa Tōru was furious, but he didn’t dare to go to Iwaizumi Hajime, who was watching intently for a chance to beat him up, so he turned his spearhead at Hanamaki: “When Hanamaki-chan was called out by a girl a few days ago, he thought he was going to be confessed to! He was awkwardly thinking about how to reject her nicely! As a result, he found out that the other party was there to give Taka a love letter, and he petrified on the spot, uhhhhhhh!”

Hanamaki Takahiro’s pupils shook, and he pounced on him to cover Oikawa Tōru’s mouth, screaming, “How do you know ahhhhh!”

“Of course, because I was there!” Oikawa Tōru struggled out, shouting, “‘Hanamaki-kun, can I talk to you? It’s a very important matter, only you can do it’——”

The tone was exquisite and vivid, pinching his throat, just like the cute high school girl herself. Seeing that he was about to continue imitating her, Hanamaki Takahiro’s face turned all sorts of colors, and his expression looked like he was about to vomit: “Stop talking!!!”

Matsukawa watched the two wrestling into a ball and retreated again and again. He didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until he came to Iwaizumi Hajime’s side, thinking that he wouldn’t be dragged into the melee this way. He listened with relish to Hanamaki and Oikawa exposing each other’s scars, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Iwaizumi Hajime looking down and pressing on his phone screen, his expression focused and serious, even forgetting to publicly sanction the elementary school students fighting in front of him.

So he was shocked and guessed, “Girlfriend?”

Iwaizumi Hajime looked up at him strangely, “Huh? …It’s Taka.”

After saying that, he typed a few words and sent them before hurriedly turning off the screen. He looked up at the court, took a deep breath, and the veins on his forehead twitched uncontrollably. He started to breathe fire: “How long are you going to make a scene?! Go practice!”

He also threw the towel placed next to him accurately as a cannonball at Oikawa Tōru’s handsome face.

With this accuracy, it was hard to say whether it was because he was too skilled or deliberately retaliating.

……

…………

Kokonoe Taka had a rare lie-in today.

He opened his eyes promptly at six o’clock in the morning, staring at the ceiling for half an hour – then he heard the sound from outside through the not-fully-closed window seam. Lively, brisk tones and impatient curses rang out one after another. Without guessing, he knew who each of the two voices belonged to. When the voices disappeared, he closed his eyes again, reached out and grabbed the blanket, wrapping himself up tightly, and fell asleep again.

When he woke up again, the hour hand of the clock on the bedside table was almost halfway through nine. Outside the window, he occasionally heard the roar of car engines and the conversations of neighbors. Kokonoe Taka sat up from the wrinkled bed. His back and T-shirt were stuck together. It was sticky and uncomfortable to move.

In addition to that, his stomach also let out dissatisfied groans.

He got out of bed, no longer looking at the wrinkled sheets to avoid getting annoyed. The weather in early June had already started to become muggy, and it didn’t feel cold to stand barefoot on the wooden floor. Grabbing the corner of his clothes, he lifted them up, first his head came out of the collar, then his two arms.

After breaking free from the fabric, the sticky sweat all over his body rapidly absorbed the cold dampness from the outside. Kokonoe Taka opened the cabinet and randomly found a set of clean clothes to change into, then walked into the shower room to wash up. With his head up and eyes closed, he stood under the shower. From the eye sockets along the bridge of his nose to the lips, from his chest to his feet, the warm water flowed all the way, washing away the heavy feeling all over his body.

Opening his eyes, he let out a breath, reached out his palm, and swept all the wet hair up. He had a dream. A dream that wouldn’t come true. And now it was about to be flushed into the sewer by the rushing water.

Turning off the faucet and walking outside, he stopped in front of the mirror. Toothpaste was squeezed onto the toothbrush, and it entered his mouth again. Kokonoe Taka stared at the person in the mirror, watching him brush his teeth, rinse his mouth, and wash his face expressionlessly. When he looked up again, the sideburns on both sides were resting on the sides of his face, and a layer of water droplets hung on his eyelashes. But that couldn’t soften the overly cold gaze and sharp outline of the person in the mirror. Kokonoe Taka smiled at him, only to get a slightly creepy smile – forget it, what am I doing.

After tidying himself up, he threw all the dirty clothes in the laundry basket into the washing machine. Then he went to smooth out the wrinkled bed that he had rolled around on. Only then did Kokonoe Taka go downstairs to prepare breakfast – or maybe lunch. But anyway, by the time he finally drank a mouthful of steaming porridge, the hour hand had already pointed to half past ten.

“Stay up less, I saw the game completion screenshot you sent when I got up in the morning.” Clicking on the unread message in the communication software, the things revealed between the lines almost allowed people to see the expression on the other person’s face when he said this. “I don’t know when you’ll be able to get up. There’s something hanging on the doorknob, remember to get it. Me and Oikawa are practicing at the municipal gymnasium.”

“…So reliable.”

Kokonoe Taka got up and went out, picking up a paper bag. Inside were sandwiches and rice balls, as well as a bottle of slightly cool milk – the origin of the sandwiches and rice balls remained to be investigated, but the brand of the milk was very familiar, often seen Iwaizumi frowning and unwillingly chugging it.

After eating, he finally felt alive. But before long, he started to feel bored again – lazily leaning against the sofa, his ankles touching the corners of the coffee table, aimlessly thinking that he had finally completed the game yesterday, and all the homework had been done, and the time was piled up to the brim. But after everything was done, what should he do again?

No one answered him in the quiet room. Only the clock ticked, and the steady rhythm was inexplicably irritating.

At this time, he should be playing ball in the gym.

Kokonoe Taka couldn’t help but change his posture: this idea made him feel a little dumbfounded, especially since he then couldn’t help but recall Oikawa Tōru’s words. The taste of being told the truth, of being exposed, still reverberated in his heart. …Stop it, that’s enough.

Kokonoe Taka stood up and looked around.

He sighed softly, “It’s so deserted.”

He put on his coat, treading on his own shadow, and fled the empty room.

Walking out of the dark house, a fresh array of colors filled the world outside the door. Kokonoe Taka stood on the porch, his gaze falling on the few roses that were quietly climbing in from next door along the wall. The annoying brilliance was the same as some guy he was having a cold war with. He didn’t want to see them… Just find something to do.

He tugged at the corner of his mouth and lowered his head to open his contacts list.

“Takeuchi?”

“A rare guest, why are you calling me?”

“I want to play tennis.” Kokonoe Taka’s tone was flat and impeccable, “Do you know anyone in Miyagi?”

Takeuchi, who suddenly received the call, was a little surprised. He guessed based on his intuition: “Too tired? Want to relax? …You really know how to pick a time. Those who are free and good in Miyagi don’t have much time… Wait, I remember I have an acquaintance who seems to be staying in Miyagi these days, let me ask if he’s still there.”

Kokonoe Taka went to find the acquaintance in Takeuchi’s mouth empty-handed. The latter’s tone was mysterious when he called back, saying that his relationship with this person was quite deep—Nishikiori Koshi, the name did sound a bit familiar.

Perhaps it was the same for the other person. The steady middle-aged man was on the verge of collapsing when he went downstairs to pick up the person who he received a phone call from. Right when the person came downstairs he ran into the scene of his contact being intercepted by several members of the club.

“I’m sorry.” Facing the pathetic girl’s request for his phone number, Kokonoe Taka rejected her indifferently. However, from Nishikiori Koshi’s perspective, it looked like he was trapped in the middle of several young ladies, looking like he couldn’t escape even if he had wings – especially when the girls stepped forward, he stepped back.

The middle-aged man who liked to watch the excitement paused his steps, changing his pace to a leisurely movement like an elderly person taking a walk. Occasionally, two or three passers-by passed through the lobby of the tennis club, all with the same teasing expressions as him. He even saw the front desk secretly laughing – and when he finally walked in front of the group, he happened to hear the stiff-faced boy being annoyed by the entanglement, blurting out: “I already have a girlfriend.”

The leading woman shook her head, her eyes amused: “You shouldn’t be this attitude if you have a girlfriend—”

Kokonoe Taka had a wooden face. At this time, he especially missed the scoundrel who attracted the bees and butterflies: at least when that guy was around, he rarely became their target. And his other friend had an aura that kept strangers away. Hiding next to him could avoid most of the interactions he wasn’t good at dealing with.

Just as he began to wonder if he had made a mistake in coming out today, and that he should still grow mushrooms at home, the middle-aged man who had been watching the excitement for a long time finally spoke to break the siege: “I’m sorry, this kid is here to find me. Miss Murakami, let him go.”

Miss Murakami suddenly understood and laughed with her companions behind her. If they had initially come to strike up a conversation, they later found the other party’s reaction to be really interesting, so they couldn’t help but want to tease him a little more.

“Is he Mr. Nishikiori’s guest? You should have said so earlier.” Miss Murakami smiled, tiptoed, and quickly patted Kokonoe Taka on the shoulder – she had originally wanted to pat his head, but he was tall, and she couldn’t reach him even on tiptoes. Just as she was feeling regretful, she noticed that the boy, who had been surrounded by them and was eager to escape the scene, sighed with an expression that was difficult to describe, and actually bent down as if he had guessed her thoughts.

When she retracted her hand, Miss Murakami was in a daze. She looked up and asked the person who couldn’t wait to escape the scene seriously: “Seriously,” her tone was sincere, “Don’t you really need a girlfriend?”

Kokonoe Taka: “…”

Imperceptibly taking a step back: “I don’t need one.”

Miss Murakami, who left with a sigh of regret, was wondering if her judgment was wrong. Otherwise, why would this person bow his head so skillfully – and Kokonoe Taka breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a little guilty: I’m sorry, I treated you like an elder – the elders around him seemed to like to pat his head, but after Kokonoe Taka’s figure gradually became upright, they could only sigh in disappointment. Over time, he developed this habit.

Nishikiori Koshi didn’t know what he was thinking: “Well, long time no see, Kokonoe.”

“…Long time no see?”

“Have you forgotten me?” Nishikiori Koshi laughed, “I haven’t forgotten you. After all, you were the first person to reject me, and also scolded yourself for not being clear-headed – didn’t that old drunkard Echizen mention me to you?”

Kokonoe Taka stared at his face. Remove the wrinkles, and dye all the hair mixed with some gray and white black… Ten years, maybe it was already the grand slam winner from twenty years ago. He was kindly asking him something in the brightly lit hall, and he answered him with a vile and hateful smile.

“Nishikiori…” he murmured, “It’s you.”

Nishikiori Koshi nodded readily, “By the way, I’m still quite sorry that you didn’t follow Echizen to play tennis.” Adults always believe in stopping when they’ve made their point. Nishikiori Koshi walked in front to lead the way, no longer mentioning anything else. Kokonoe Taka was silent for a moment, then didn’t pursue it further: “Where are we going now?”

“I’m going to my lounge to find you a racket.” Nishikiori Koshi smiled, “You’re the first kid I’ve ever met who comes to play tennis without bringing his own racket.”

“…Who am I playing with? You?”

Nishikiori Koshi shook his head: “Old arms and legs, I can’t run anymore. It’s a kid who came here to play in a match, his train is in the afternoon… Well, if he hurries, he should still have time to play a game.”

What Nishikiori Koshi said about ‘finding’ really meant finding. As soon as he entered the door, he saw all kinds of different rackets displayed on the display shelves next to him, which was dazzling. In addition to these, he also casually said that if none of them fit, he could go to the store to take a look.

“This one will do.”

Kokonoe Taka chose one of the rackets placed on the shelf. Bright dark red paint, black handle, sheep intestine line.

“The other kid you’re playing with is younger than you. He’s in his second year of middle school this year, and he’s preparing for the Kanto Tournament that starts in July.” Nishikiori Koshi introduced, “That kid’s level is amazing, and he’s known as the ‘Child of God’ – speaking of which, you were the first person to refuse to become my student, and Yukimura was the second.”

Kokonoe Taka raised his eyes, “Hmm?”

Nishikiori Koshi stroked his small mustache and smiled: “Your reason for rejecting me back then was ‘this sport is not pure’, and this kid is too purely pursuing a higher realm, and must find his own path. …I don’t hate this arrogant idea. If you’re curious, you can probably understand after playing a match!”