Chapter 26: Alone
The summer night arrives slowly. As the last rays of light disappear on the horizon, the night sky of Karuizawa is like a quiet deep sea, and the chirping of insects surges up from all directions like waves.
Fengjian pushed open the door of the court, and the tennis ball just brushed her hair and got stuck in the fence outside. The street lights beside the court were high and bright, and standing at the door was enough to see the entire area clearly.
The brim of her bright grey sports short-sleeved sweatshirt pressed down her hair. The young woman stood opposite the net, her forearms slightly bent like a fully drawn bow. She stepped back and exerted force. The racket face made a 'dong' sound when she received the ball. The force brought by the wind lifted her hair back, and with the sound of the tennis ball landing, it rolled to her feet.
Her eyes lifted from the small ball at her feet and fell on the figure not far away.
His short, gray-purple hair peeked out from under his hat, appearing a faint golden hue under the streetlights. He stood with his arms crossed, "Why aren't you coming over yet? Are you waiting for me to come pick you up?"
"I don't think so," Fengjian curled his lips and muttered softly, but walked towards the field.
As the night deepened, the woods became unusually quiet. The moonlight outlined the lush shadows of the trees, and the light and shadows lingered among the lush branches. The lights on the stadium were as bright as day, casting a faint black shadow under the boy's feet.
"Your knees are too bent, and your shoulders are too stiff." The edge of the racket hit her knees. The cold touch mixed with the upward curve of his eyes was like ice chips hitting her trembling calves.
"And the wrists are too loose, like they haven't eaten enough."
"I said..."
A cross appeared on Kazama's forehead, and his swing froze in mid-air. "Atobe-kun, are you getting the wrong direction? I'm not here to learn how to play tennis, am I?"
"As a tennis data recorder, it would be ridiculous to say that I don't even know the basic tennis knowledge." Atobe paced beside her, the racket in his hand like a teacher's ruler, falling on his shoulder one second, and lightly hitting his knee the next second.
Then there was a sudden snap of fingers, "kabaji."
“Usu.”
The tall and strong Karaichi appeared silently behind Atobe. A mahogany cushioned chair had appeared on the originally empty side of the field without him noticing. A cup of cold drink with a gradient purple color was placed on the round square table next to it.
"You look so lacking in exercise, why don't you practice your shoulders first?"
Atobe sat down, crossed his legs, and looked down at her trembling calves with a look of disgust. "Well, you're not going to tell me that you can't even last ten minutes?"
"That's really disappointing."
Fengjian held on for ten minutes with the belief that she must not be looked down upon. When the time was up, her legs almost gave way and she almost fell.
As a hand supported her, a voice rang out.
“kabaji.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Huadi placed a mahogany soft chair of the same material in front of Atobe.
Feng Jian was stunned for a moment, "Thank you."
There was no expression on that dull and calm face. He stood back behind Atobe like a loyal knight.
"The landing point of the ball during a serve is actually related to the player's swing." Atobe handed her the cardboard he had been writing on. "Judging from the position you were standing and the position you swung your racket, your ball will land in a few places: 1, 2, and 3..."
The gleaming metallic tip of his pen tapped the three marked circles on the cardboard, and a perfect parabola extended from his pen. "Besides that, besides your hand movements determining whether the ball slices or spins, your foot movements greatly influence the control of the ball, that is, whether it lands in or out of bounds."
His clear and magnetic voice penetrated her eardrums, and her thoughts followed the arcs he drew on the paper.
"Therefore, the following types of serve paths can be developed. In addition to the conventional type, the first is Chotaro's powerful serve, which is extremely fast, reaching 212 km/h. This is usually done by standing close to the baseline and swinging the ball with full force;"
"The second is the dance-style tennis played by Taketo and Kikumaru, using the coordinated flexibility of their feet and hands to react faster than their brains..."
"The third one..."
"So the racket swing I just learned is actually the prelude to Atobe-kun's ultimate move, 'Waltz Towards Victory,'" Kazama clenched his palms, suddenly realizing, "Mobilizing your body to control the movement of the ball is actually aiming at the opponent's wrist, waiting for the moment the racket is knocked away and the ball rebounds to counterattack."
She suddenly remembered that when she was recording his serve this morning, the sound of the ball hitting the court was like hitting a drum. It turned out that the arc had long been hidden in the strength of his swing.
"Very good," Atobe finally looked her in the eye, his chin slightly raised, a faint smile in his eyes, "You can actually follow my train of thought."
"Of course." She looked quite proud. In order to learn tennis knowledge quickly, she stayed up until the early morning every night.
"You're feeling complacent with just this little achievement," Atobe scoffed. "You're still far from it."
Feng Jian didn't hear the sarcasm, his eyes lit up, and he spoke like beans, "So that's why you asked me to try swinging the racket just now, so that I can remember the feeling of that moment, right?"
Atobe leaned back on the soft seat and glanced at her lazily. "The physical memory that comes from practice is the most profound. Relying solely on the rigid memory of the brain will turn you into a nerd."
Kazama looked at him, "But aren't you afraid to tell me this, Aoi-kun? Will the Seigaku-kai fight back?"
He scoffed coldly, "Data is static, but people are alive. Thinking you can beat us by relying solely on unchanging data is sheer wishful thinking. Hyotei will only become stronger in the future, stronger than everyone else. We won't lose another game."
Kazama nodded, "We're also looking forward to the chance to fight you again."
Atobe frowned slightly as he looked at her. The teardrop mole under his right eye shimmered like a pearl in the light, and then he looked away. "Okay, I'm tired. Remember next time... don't let me see you write Hyotei's special move wrong again, or I won't mind personally urging you to swing the racket a thousand times."
"A thousand times..." Feng Jian sucked in a breath of cold air. Even for the sake of his own hand, he would never let this happen.
It was neither early nor late at this time. Fengjian put away his notes and left the court. When he passed by a bush, he suddenly heard a strange noise coming from inside.
She stopped abruptly, and before she could react, the next second, the bushes exploded, and seven or eight people rolled into a ball. The green and white uniforms of Qingxue and the ice-purple jackets of Hyotei were tangled together. Momoshiro, who was in the lead, still had unfinished bread in his mouth.
“…”
As they looked at each other, silence was Cambridge tonight.
"Ah well," Atobe's sneer pierced the stagnant air, "Looks like you guys are free tonight, so let's run around the mountain ten times."
"You must be kidding—"
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