"Ah." She watched as the ball flew by, her racquet just missing it by a few centimetres. Her eyes grew wider when she saw the ball hit the metal fence at her end of the court, and stick there, the speed of the ball so high that it dented the fence. Raising her eyebrow and murmuring to herself, "thank goodness I didn't catch it..." she turned to Takashi on the other end of the court, and gave a smile. "Kawamura-sempai... I think you won this game too..."
"YES! Great Game!" came the strange loud English from Takashi. He waved his racquet in the air and gave a wide grin at his former opponent. Gone was the shy, retiring Kawamura-sempai she was used to seeing the past weeks. It was as if he changed into another person when he started playing tennis, she mused. This version of Kawamura-sempai was very different. Very loud, very strong, very...alive.
The sun was high above their heads when they had started playing. Now it was more on their sides, the time had passed quickly when they were playing. She smiled indulgently at the happy teenager on the other side of the net, and put down her racquet, feeling the adrenaline drain out of her. Leaning against the metal fence, and plucking out the ball beside her thoughtfully, she could feel her body returning to normal, her heart pumping hard to return energy to where it belonged.
I forgot...
Without warning, she felt a sharp pain at her chest. Biting her lips, she turned slowly away from Takashi's viewpoint, and pressed her throbbing heart with her left arm. Her voice trembled when she shouted across the net that she was going to take a shower, but Takashi was too far away to catch anything but the meaning of the words, and he shouted back that it was what he was going to do too. Nodding silently, she picked up her racquet with her other arm, and slowly made her way to the clubhouse, her pained expression hidden by her long black bangs.
The water showered down on her noisily in the almost empty ladies bathroom. She was stooped down in the cubicle, both her hands pressing hard down on her heart, her breathing uneven and loud, as she desperately sucked in air with her open mouth, the water streaming down the sides of her head, running like a river down her long braid. She had not had time to undo her braid yet. Feeling her heart give another huge pump, she sucked in a large breath painfully, and staggered out of the cubicle naked, digging into her sports bag. Her trembling and wet fingers filed through clean clothes and found the pillbox. She popped two of the white pills quickly into her mouth, and swallowed with difficulty.
Undoing her braid carefully, she walked slowly back into the cubicle, the shower still on, and let the cool water wash away the dirt and sweat, her breathing more normal now. The gushing of the shower on her face upturned calmed her down, and soon she was out of the cubicle again, this time done with her shower, and she dressed quickly, knowing that she had taken a long time and that he must be waiting for her now. A smile came unbidden to her lips when she remembered him, and she left her bag in the bathroom, walking out to the courts to find him.
Iroi saw his crouching form at the courts, and something about the way he was sitting made her slow down her footsteps, and watch him carefully. She watched the trickle of water down his smooth back. He was sitting on the courts, staring at the tennis racquet in front of him, a towel over his head, hiding his expression. As she walked over to him from the clubhouse she could sense that there was something intense about his posture towards the racquet, as if he really wanted to touch it, but was holding back with all of his might. He looked lost in his skin.
She ignored the urge to rush over and touch him, but instead, kept her footfalls silent and kept watching the water on his back. She had never seen his bare back before, and it intrigued her, the curve of the muscles supporting it, the surprisingly hairless texture of it, how the drops of water would slip and slide over it. She studied the curve of his back, and let her eyes lazily travel the length of it, all the way to the jeans that hung off his hips.
Almost too soon, she had reached where he was sitting. She saw him move just a bit, as if realising she was there, and then she sat down next to him, curling her thighs up to her chest, her head resting on her knees, tilted towards him, her blank expression quietly studying the towel that hung over his head. He smelt of clean water, and of soap, as did she. Her long damp hair she tossed to her back, and it dried in the late afternoon sun, leaving snaking wet prints on the back of her blouse and the top of her loose pants.
"Did you have fun?" His voice was a lot lower, almost inaudible, and the head beneath the towel did not move.
She nodded her head, silently. Realising he could not see her reaction, she added. "Hai. Tanoshii desu. [1]" Her voice was soft too, but gentle. She could tell that he was feeling emotional about something, and did not want to venture too far, lest she hurt him. She's never really felt the need to shield anyone from pain, except for herself, but she felt that need now, towards the strange person beside her, who had been so shy and gentle until he picked up the racquet just now.
"That's good." He spoke, almost choking it out, before falling silent again. Though she could not see it, she could sense his gaze being directed to the tennis racquet. Suppressing the urge to bend over and peek at his face, she stayed in that position, silently waiting.
The silence seemed to gnaw on him. With every passing moment he seemed to crouch over more and more, until she could see his back muscles straining against themselves to keep his shoulders pushed forward. Her urge to just reach out and touch him grew too, but she restrained herself, hoping, wishing that he would be the one who would respond first. She had no idea what kind of consequences would occur if she made the first move.
"I'm sorry." His voice was soft, and yet, a multitude of guilt came across in those two words. She could almost taste the remorse in the sound. Tilting her head, waiting for more to follow, she was rewarded with silence. Thinking that it would be okay to press on now, she opened her mouth to speak.
"Sorry for?" Her face looked puzzled, and that was reflected in her speech.
"For what happened just now." His soft reply came, his head still hanging down, the towel still covering his emotions, like a blanket.
"What happened?" Her voice was really puzzled now. She was confused. Thinking back, she could not remember anything he would be sorry for. If anything, she was amused and surprised by the other side of him who only showed up when he was playing tennis.
"I...I turned into him." The way he had pronounced ?him' was as if the ?him' was an evil monster. "I can't help it, I just can't help turning into him whenever I play. I thought... I thought after not touching tennis for two years, maybe... maybe I'll be alright now." His hands lifted and grabbed the ends of the towel, tugging them down, stretching the wet towel over his head. "But I was wrong."
"Him?" Her voice lilted naturally into a question. "You mean when you play tennis?" She paused and thought for a while, an almost puzzled expression on her face. "But I thought he was interesting. You don't like that side of you?"
He shook his head, almost resignedly. "He... I could have hurt you just now. I don't control him at all, I can't control my power... if..." At this he stopped gazing at the tennis racquet, and his head tilted slightly towards her, though the towel still covered his wet head. "If you had caught that last ball, you would most definitely have been hurt." His head went back to staring at the tennis racquet.
So intense. So kind. He is deeper than I would have thought him to be. She chose to sit there silently, without giving him a reply. Her eyes were drawn to the head and the towel, and then they travelled down his strained neck muscles to his back, arched and stretched almost painfully, as he bent over, almost trying to hide himself. Finally unable to help herself, her small hand snaked out, almost touching the last drop of water balanced on his back, and stopped, just before coming in contact with it. In that position she stayed for a while, feeling the warmth of his back reaching her index finger, still precariously close to the water drop.
He shifted. Her finger came in contact with his bare back.
She inhaled sharply, and quickly retracted her hand, whilst he seemed not to have noticed the small touch. He glanced up at the sound of her sharp breath, his remorseful face finally coming into view when the towel slid off the top of his head and landed around his neck. His brown hair was slicked back due to the towel, and the new hairstyle threw his sharp features into high relief. She glanced at his face, suddenly struck by how attractive it was at close range. Feeling herself blush, she quickly turned to the floor, trying to hide her expression.
What am I doing? Stealing a glance at him, she realised that he had misunderstood her reaction. He was back to staring at the tennis racquet with that remorseful look on his face. The look soon turned into anger, and then, suddenly, he used his foot to kick the racquet. It slid across the rough court floor, and skittered to a stop near the net. A bit shocked by his sudden vehemence, she turned directly to look at him. He looked like he wanted to do something violent to himself. She glanced at his face, and then at the racquet.
Standing up from her seat on the court, she brushed off the bottom of her pants, and stretched, her long black hair almost totally dry in the early evening breeze. She didn't look down when she saw from the corner of her eye he had looked up at her, and just walked slowly towards the discarded racquet. Picking it up, and looking at it this way and that, she brushed off the dirt that had collected on one side of it, and smiled at it.
Turning back to Takashi, she pointed the racquet at him. "Neh, Kawamura-sempai. Taka-san wa tokubetsu desu ga, ano kare mo tokubetsu desu yo. [2]" Smiling at the stunned expression that came over him, she dropped her hand, letting the racquet hit the side of her thigh as she walked over, she stopped right in front of him. Setting the racquet firmly on the ground beside him, she squatted down, her face level with his. "Kawamura-sempai... you are not complete unless you have both Taka-san and ?him'. Only then, would you really be ?Kawamura Takashi'." She tried a big grin, and found that it was easier than she thought. "At least, that's what I think."
He looked at her, his face a little sad, a little empty, an expression she saw on her face far too many times in the mirror. Her grin faded into a wistful smile. "Neh?" She watched as his expression changed a bit, and his anguish seemed to fade away slowly from his tense face. He gave a shy smile, and looked down at the racquet, still beside him. Laughing softly to himself, he looked up, straight into her face, and smiled.
"Thank you."
The sun shifted, and started to sink into the horizon behind her. She smiled back at him, as she watched her own shadow on the floor in front of her lengthen gradually. It was getting late. The sun shone from behind her, throwing her face into shadow, and turning her hair golden brown.
"Kaerimshou ka? [3]"
Glossary [1] - Yes, it was enjoyable. [2] - Taka-san is special, but so that "he". [3] - Shall we go home?
. sempai --- senior . neh --- used here as an expression similar to "Right?"
chiiyo's comments :
The reason why I skipped three whole chapters to write chapter 5 was because I was running out of inspiration for the entire story. I desperately wanted to write this chapter, because I had it all in my head, the interaction, the emotion, the thickness of the air. I wanted to write the tension between Iroi and Takashi, and I really wanted to start writing Iroi's attraction to Takashi. They are so sweet together, I wanted to skip all those intermediary chapters altogether and get to the meat... *grin* Call it impatience.