Chapter 3: Cherry Blossoms After the Rain
In late spring, the cherry blossoms in front of the teaching building had long since shed their pink hue. Green leaves clustered on their branches, forming a swirling sea of green. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled light across the corridor like a sprinkling of gold.
"When he was young, his uncle embezzled his family property, so he became wary of others... Kazama-san, you read the next passage."
"yes!"
Someone dozing behind a book heard their name and stood up reflexively, their chair scraping against the floor with a sharp, tearing sound. After a brief silence, the classroom erupted in laughter, like a beehive being punctured.
The teacher's helpless voice drifted over from the stage: "Kazama-san, no matter how good your grades are, you can't not pay attention in class."
"Feel sorry……"
Fengjian Siyue sat down with a red face, pinching the corner of the textbook with her fingertips.
After class, she was about to catch up on some sleep when someone poked her in the back: "Hey, April, I've been seeing you dozing off in class lately. Are you too tired?"
"Well, I helped Sister Ling with the accounts and the tennis club's statistics. I was busy until three in the morning last night." She yawned, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.
"Three o'clock in the morning!" Yuan Qianye was shocked. "You are working too hard."
Feng Jian waved at her and said, "I'll tell you when I wake up."
After school, Kazama reported to the tennis club as usual. As soon as he pushed through the turquoise fence, the low pressure of the court hit him. Everyone was there, but no one spoke. Even Kikumaru, usually the most lively of the group, was silent, like a frozen bird.
"Kazama-san..." Momoshiro Takeshi looked in her direction, his eyes hesitant to speak.
Only then did she notice another straight figure standing opposite Taocheng, with chestnut-brown hair with a cold and hard luster at the ends, like ice-quenched steel.
“Who made this data?”
Tezuka turned around and tapped his fingertips on the third row of the chart, his nails leaving a shallow mark on the ink: "Record of Echizen's outspin serve landing point deviation, the error exceeds 3 centimeters."
Feng Jian's breath hitched. That was the data she had estimated last night, staying up until three o'clock, looking at the grainy videotape. When her eyelids were fighting, she must have misread the scale.
"I……"
Before Fengjian Siyue could open his mouth, he pushed his glasses up and added, "Tezuka, I didn't review the data clearly this time."
"The data error is 3 centimeters, which may lead to misjudgment during the serve." Tezuka raised his eyes, scanning the dark circles under her eyes. "Kazama, go, circle the court ten times. Everyone else, continue training!"
"Minister Tezuka, ten laps is too difficult for Kazama, and Kazama studies until very late every day..." Momoshiro wanted to plead, but was interrupted, "Momoshiro, ten laps."
"yes."
The field was so quiet that the sound of the wind could be clearly heard, and the sound of leaves falling to the ground was like sighs.
Kazama clenched his notebook, bowed slightly to Tezuka, and turned to follow Inui and Momoshiro.
While running, sweat flowed down her forehead, blurring her vision. She always felt that there was a gaze behind her, as cold as ice, yet carrying an indescribable weight.
"Tezuka, these are just a few erroneous data points, but isn't it too harsh to treat Kazama-san as a regular team member?"
Shuichiro Oishi looked at the panting and almost shaky figure on the sidelines, then looked back at the young man standing beside him with his arms folded. A cold and hard light flashed in the oval frame.
"There are only one and countless mistakes. I will never allow my players to lose a point because of a mistake in basic data."
Oishi Shuichiro sighed and shook his head slightly at the people watching not far away.
The dusk silhouettes pierced the clouds and fell to the ground, dividing the buildings into unequal shapes of light and shadow. The faucet was left on, and clear water flowed down the stopper, reflecting a pale face, long hair wet and sticking to the ears.
"If you don't dry yourself in this weather, you'll easily catch a cold."
The light and shadow in the water reflected another blurry face. Fengjian looked up and saw a flaxen-haired boy standing in front of her with his hands behind his back. The loose hair on his forehead was blown away by the wind, revealing his crescent-shaped eyebrows and eyes.
"Thank you, Fuji-senpai."
Fengjian thanked him softly, took the clean towel handed to him and draped it over his shoulders. The cotton texture felt a bit warm like the sun.
"Did I scare you this afternoon?" Fuji smiled. "Actually, Tezuka is so strict with everyone, including himself, you see."
Following his opponent's gaze, Kazama saw the silhouette of a man stretched infinitely across the court bathed in the afterglow. Tezuka raised his arm high, like a drawn longbow, and the green and white ball slammed down to the ground with a thud, startling the sparrows perched on the netting ropes.
Raise your arms, lower them, raise them again, lower them again, and repeat over and over again.
I was determined to practice one more ball no matter what, as if I was competing with myself.
"Data errors are very serious," Fuji said softly, turning back to smile at her, like a spring breeze blowing across the lake, "but when you were penalized for running, he prepared this for you on the court."
Feng Jian took the drink he handed to her. The words "electrolyte water" on the label had been scratched off heavily with the fingertips, and the bottle still retained some warmth.
She looked up, watching the shadows stretching across the court.
Dusk trickled down like melted honey, tinting the wire mesh of the tennis court a warm orange. The evergreen leaves, gilded by the setting sun, rustled in the wind, and small green balls covered the golden court like a field of scattered stars.
In the lounge, the halo of the desk lamp circled two spreadsheets.
"Senior Gan, I'm sorry for getting you punished today."
It was clearly a problem with my own data, but not only did I drag the other person down with me, I also had to sort out the data together until so late.
"I'm also responsible for the data errors this time. As an analyst, I should be responsible for every piece of data, so Kazama-san doesn't need to put all the blame on yourself." Gan pushed his glasses and handed over a form. "Here, Tezuka has already marked the places where the data is wrong."
Fengjie passed the form to Gan, and next to the red-marked data were rows of neat handwriting, which explained the calculation process and logic. The pen tip had even pressure, as if it was engraved.
Half an hour later.
"Are you done?" asked Gan.
"It's almost there, Senior Gan, please go back first."
"Well, if you haven't finished it yet, you can do it tomorrow morning. Remember to send it to my email." Gan nodded and glanced at the dark clouds outside the window. "The probability of rain is 90%. Did you bring an umbrella, Kazama-san?"
"Oops, I didn't bring it."
"But it doesn't matter if you don't have one." Gan's eyes were drawn to the door, and the corners of his mouth curled up with a meaningful smile. "The probability that someone will leave their umbrella behind is 100%."
Following the other person's gaze, Fengjian saw a black umbrella leaning against the door. There was a small "T" engraved on the handle of the umbrella, which flashed a dull light under the light.
——
Kazama checked the membership list of the Seigaku Tennis Club and found only one person whose name started with "T".
She waited under the tree for a while before the figure appeared from the corner of the teaching building. He looked like he had just finished training. The tips of his chestnut-brown hair were wet, and the sunlight from the eaves made them look like crystal dewdrops.
"Tezuka-senpai, thank you for your umbrella," Kazama handed him the umbrella, his eyes falling on the tips of his white shoes, which were stained with grass from the court. "It was thanks to Tezuka-senpai's umbrella that day, otherwise I might have had to stay overnight at the tennis club."
Tezuka hummed, his voice calm, "I've already sent the data to you. It's well organized."
"Next time, you don't have to stay up so late. Finish training early and go home."
"good……"
"Is there anything else you want to ask?" Tezuka stared at the girl's fluffy hair when she lowered her head, and saw the hesitation on her face.
"Um..." Kazama's hands tightened slightly behind his back, and his voice was like a taut guitar string, a little hoarse, but then softened. "Actually, I saw Tezuka-senpai eating a cold bento last week, so I specially prepared a hot one today."
As she spoke, she handed him the lunch box she had been carrying on her back. As expected, she looked up and met his slightly stunned eyes. She quickly waved her hands to explain, "I was passing by the school while delivering food for Sister Ling, and I remembered that I had forgotten to take some data, so..." Her fingertips unconsciously touched the corner of the lunch box, and she paused for a few seconds. "I accidentally saw it... And I prepared a portion of lunch box for everyone every week according to the diet plan, so you don't have to worry!"
The voice was eight degrees higher than usual.
The sound of a ball hitting the court was heard. Tezuka was silent for a moment, then reached out to take it, and said in a softer voice: "Thank you."
"You're welcome. After all, I'm also a member of the Seigaku Tennis Club," Kazama said calmly, breathing a sigh of relief in his heart. He caught a glimpse of the hem of a lotus-green skirt flashing in the distance and bowed slightly to the boy in front of him. "Senior Tezuka, I'm getting ready to leave. See you tomorrow."
"Yeah, see you tomorrow."
As she passed by him, her calm voice fell silently to the ground along with the cherry blossoms, concealing the slight curve of his face.
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