Chapter 17

During spring break, I watched two of Tezuka's matches, both of which were thrilling victories, and even I could tell that he wasn't having an easy time.

Bass had mentioned to me before that the first year after turning professional was the hardest to adjust to. Not only was he injured in the arm, but he was also not yet seventeen years old. He had only just achieved some results in some tournaments in Germany, and the clay court season was about to begin. He did not want to give up the opportunity to participate in the French Open junior division.

Of course, I don't know much about tennis; I'm just an outsider who knows the rules. Tezuka told me all this in an email.

Generally speaking, he is a very taciturn person, and he may not tell me many things unless I ask him.

Actually, I'm not that good at caring about others. At most, I'm just a little curious. At first, I said a few extra words because of my master. Later, I met his coach, Bass. Perhaps it was Tezuka's personality that made him seem like a stubborn rock. Whenever the coach couldn't figure something out, he would come to me to discuss countermeasures.

I said I couldn't understand that stone head of his either, but Bass said that Tezuka was at least like a teenager in front of me, and much easier to communicate with.

Perhaps the best job for me would be Tezuka's manager, but I don't know if his team is still hiring.

After all, peers who grow up together always have a natural understanding, which is unavoidable. For example, Sanada and I have been fighting since we were little, so even now, it is still an easy thing for me to prank the young master.

There was less of that childish rivalry between Tezuka and me; we were more like fellow students. Although he himself had no interest in judo, his master had forced him to come to the judo dojo countless times when he was a child, but his attention was always on that little yellow ball. However, he would always cheer for my matches unconditionally.

Therefore, in return, I will maintain the same attitude no matter what decision he makes or what he wants to do.

This match was crucial for the next stage, so as soon as the live stream ended, I sent him an email. The content was nothing more than congratulating him on his victory and offering some of the usual concern. I also asked him why he insisted on using his right hand in the second half, whether his left hand was not in good condition or something. I knew that nothing I asked would offend him, so I just asked whatever I wanted.

"I want to try and fail more, and if I fail, I'll try again," he explained in the email.

"Are you still the Kunimitsu I know, my friend?" Isn't being cautious and meticulous a family motto of the Tezuka family?

"I've always been the Guoguang you know." He answered me so seriously.

"Yes, yes, it's always been our Xiaoguang." I can already imagine his expression when he sees me say that.

After sending the message, I didn't get a reply immediately, so I put my phone aside. It was almost midnight, and the late-coming sleepiness overwhelmed my wakefulness. I stood up and yawned twice. The phone rang unexpectedly. I glanced at the caller ID and forced back my third yawn.

I pressed the speakerphone button and said with a smile, "I'm listening, Xiao Guang."

"Sorry, it must be very late where you are." If he were truly sorry, he wouldn't have made this call.

"Anyway, I just finished watching your match and I'm not ready to sleep yet, so..." I teased, "Is Xiao Guang here to ask for praise?"

"No," he sighed, then hesitated for a while before finally saying, "I was watching the sunset."

"Oh—so you remembered me?" I blurted out, unaware that my words had crossed a line.

"Yes," he replied decisively, making it even less clear what the transgression meant. "I just felt that someone should speak up at this time."

"This is so unlike you," I laughed. "Xiao Guang, listen to me, go and make some friends."

Tezuka paused for a moment and then explained, "I do have friends, at least."

His answer was exactly the same as what we said when we watched the sunset in Odaiba last year. He was stunned after he said it. We were both silent for half a second, and then I heard him laughing on the phone. He called my name several times but couldn't stop me.

However, being the first person my friends think of when watching the sunset really makes me happy; it feels good to be cared for.

So I took two deep breaths to calm myself down and said, "I'm sorry, I won't laugh anymore, I really won't laugh anymore."

Hearing another sigh from the other end, he added, "But Guoguang, time difference isn't a problem. You can still call me next time."

"I will," he replied.

Everyone has moments they want to share with another person. If one has always processed things alone, they wouldn't feel anything. However, when Tezuka Kunimitsu was winning, he could only think of one person as he faced the sunset, and that person was not himself.

The phrase "I'm watching the sunset" is simply someone who isn't good with words saying "I miss you," so how can it be considered overstepping boundaries?

As the holiday drew to a close, the spring rains in Fujisawa arrived late, and the sea seemed shrouded in a layer of mist. The roads were slippery and I couldn't run, so I had to stay cooped up in my room for three days straight. After lunch, I would sit cross-legged on the balcony door, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain outside, which made me yawn incessantly. This kind of leisure time without training or school was really not for me. Why doesn't the judo club have a tradition of holiday training camps?

Students from sports clubs at nearby schools often come to "Hechuan." Yesterday afternoon, Niou, Marui, and Kirihara came to eat ramen there. However, Niou usually doesn't come for ramen; the three of them looked like they had just come from a manga store, and Kirihara's backpack was full of several books. Seeing that it was my classmate again, my dad called me downstairs to help. After taking their order, I borrowed a book and sat down next to them, casually flipping through it.

The three of them, having nothing to do while sheltering from the rain, finished their noodles and watched the Spring Festival Gala with the other people in the shop.

Niou, who had only ordered a small snack, rested his chin on his hand and ate quietly while watching TV. Marui was chatting enthusiastically with an older man at the next table, saying that pitchers would be tricked if they kept throwing like that. Kirihara, seeing that I had just turned to an exciting part, was particularly enthusiastic in explaining the plot to me.

Actually, I was daydreaming. Well, not completely daydreaming, but part of my attention was on the sound of the rain outside, part on the comics, part on the TV, and the last part was on everyone in the store. I couldn't concentrate, so it seemed like I wasn't paying attention to anything.

The rain stopped before the live broadcast ended. Marui and Kirihara both said their families were urging them to finish, but Niou wasn't in a hurry at all. He even continued to sit at the table and watched the rest of the match.

"How come I didn't know you were so interested in baseball?" I asked.

"No, I don't understand baseball," he said, shaking his head.

"Then why did you keep watching until the very end and not go back?" I was both amused and exasperated.

"I'm just bored and have nothing to do, Puri," Niou glanced at me, "I think you're the same."

"Everyone feels this way when it rains." There weren't many people in the store at this hour. I picked up the remote and randomly flipped through a few channels, but nothing seemed interesting. "Are you leaving? I'm going out for a walk."

"Is it appropriate to rush customers like this?" Niou joked.

"Then you can sit down," I stood up. "I've already been very generous to you, letting you have a small snack all afternoon."

"Merchants are the most ruthless of all." He looked at me and shook his index finger.

"Thank you for your kind offer." I patted his arm and walked out the door first.

The sky was still overcast. I walked with Renwang to the station. He waited for the train on the platform, while I continued walking. I wandered around until it got dark and started raining before I hurriedly ran home.

Fortunately, after several days of doing nothing and wishing I could do all the math competition problems like Nioh, my second year of high school finally began.

Before the start of the new semester, the student council will hold a meeting of department heads to discuss recruitment and welcoming activities, and also to allow the newly appointed department heads to get to know each other.

I am now the head of the External Relations Department. My senior recommended me to take over before graduation. Yagyu and several other members of the same grade, including seniors from the year above, all voted in favor. Sanada was also promoted in his second year, just like me. We have been rivals since we were young, and I am satisfied to know that I have not fallen behind him.

After the meeting, I strolled back to the External Relations Department office, not expecting anyone to be there. As soon as I opened the door, I saw Liu Sheng sitting in a chair reading a book. He was probably engrossed in it and didn't even turn around to look at me.

I tiptoed up behind him, intending to scare him, but he suddenly stood up, which startled me. I took a step back, and if he hadn't reached out and pulled me back, I would have fallen on my bottom.

"I know I've embarrassed myself, so don't say anything." I frowned and told him not to laugh at me.

So Yagyu simply smiled and pointed to the window, then put down his book and very gentlemanly pulled out the chair next to me.

"Forget about it," I said, realizing my mistake and changing the subject. "I glanced at the schedule for your team's selection competition, and it coincides with the student council interview. You can go to the competition then, and I can handle the interview."

"I didn't even know when this happened," Yagyu said, slipping the bookmark into the page he had just been reading. "What superpower did you use this time?"

"Just have better eyesight," I raised an eyebrow slightly. "When I went to hand in my form, there happened to be your tennis club's form on the table."

"Then you'd better be gentle during the interview; the external relations department is short-staffed," Liu Sheng said.

"I still think it's better to have nothing than something bad." As I said this, I reached for the book next to him, but Liu Sheng, who is usually very generous, insisted on teasing me today and pushed the book to the side, so that I couldn't reach it even with my outstretched arm.

There was a smile in the man's eyes; he seemed to find it amusing.

After trying twice more, I pretended to give up, and Liu Sheng finally moved the book back. Then I immediately turned around and placed my hand on the back of his hand, looking at him triumphantly, as if to say with my eyes—I got it after all.

He smiled helplessly, then gently took my hand and handed me the book.

In that instant, I vaguely sensed that something was different from the past, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It was as if Yagyu and I had been maintaining a distance before, not by me, but by him, but now that distance was getting smaller and smaller.