Chapter 45 「ひかり」
Tokyo in late July was like a waterlogged summer boot: damp, hot, and stuffy. Cicadas chirped clamorously in the trees along the road, ripping the white clouds overhead into shreds. The sun poured down recklessly, and the distant Kanagawa Sea reflected the azure sky, its surface shimmering like dancing pearls.
"I heard that Echizen was selected to participate in the U.S. Open."
The hot sea breeze blew in my face, carrying Yukimura's words.
"Yeah, he flew to New York yesterday," Fengjian said, sitting in the shade of a tree on the shore, his hands supporting his cheeks. Thinking of the farewell scene yesterday, he narrowed his eyes and smiled knowingly, "Yesterday, that guy's hands were full of gifts from his seniors. He was really happy."
"Sounds good." Yukimura chuckled and dipped the paintbrush into the paint and painted on the white paper.
"Of course...that's not right," Feng Jian slapped his thigh and turned to look at him, "You have been in the hospital the whole time, how did you know that Senior Yue was selected for the US Open?"
"Sanada told me," Yukimura tapped his pen, a light blue stain spreading across the white paper. "I heard that a manager from St. Rudolph's was spreading the word among all the high schools, and naturally, we at Rikkai heard about it too."
"Ah... I knew it was Guanyue's style right away," Fengjian rolled his eyes. "Last week, that guy came to our school to inquire about the school ranking competition, and I caught him red-handed. I think that's when I heard about it from Mr. Inoue. He really has a big mouth."
"The school ranking competition..." Yukimura paused, "Is it to prepare for the national competition?"
"Of course, we at Seigaku are very confident about this year's national competition," Kazama clenched his fists and looked up. "Even though Echizen has gone to the United States, our Seigaku club has made a full comeback. Yukimura, you better be careful."
There was unconcealable joy and pride in his tone.
"Hey, hey," Yukimura handed over the paint box and tilted his head to smile at her, "Then could you please ask the best recorder of Seigaku to help fill it with some water?"
It was like a punch on cotton. Kazama was like a deflated ball, casting a contemptuous look at him. He took the paint box and jumped off the shore. Yukimura's voice drifted over on the wind, "You still need 1/4 box of fine sand. Don't fill it too much, Kazama."
"I know, stop nagging."
She ran towards the sea, her hat blown high by the wind. The girl jumped up and reached out to grab it. Her white skirt was blown away, like clouds floating in the sky. The azure color spread from the other side of the horizon, and bright shadows were reflected on the white beach.
Yukimura squinted his eyes and stared at the place where the sea and the sky met for a long time. Suddenly, he drew a vague outline on the painting with a pencil.
"I really doubt you called me out here in the middle of the day just to do hard labor for me," Feng Jian struggled to climb up the stone bank, placed the paint box next to his easel, and clapped his hands, "Remember to pay me for the errand, sir."
"How about I draw a portrait for you as payment for my errands?" Yukimura smiled and put some fine sand on the tip of his pen and smeared it on the paper.
"Really?" Feng Jian looked at him suspiciously.
"Absolutely true."
Fengjian coughed lightly, "Then I will agree reluctantly."
"Just... sit here," Yukimura pointed at a bench not far away with his paintbrush, "that angle is great, with some light and shadow, but it won't be too sunny."
Feng Jian obediently sat over and listened to his voice continue, "Just sit there, you don't need to do anything."
"Hi, the great painter Yukimura."
The waves licked the beach, the white sand was softened by the sun, the sea breeze mixed with the scent of grass brushed across my cheeks, the leaves above my head rustled, and the sound of cars whizzing past not far away was evaporated by the hot air.
The warm sunlight shone on his body, and his body felt as light as if it was stuffed with cotton. Fengjian took a nap, his eyelids drooping, and finally the wind gently closed his eyes.
“Bang!”
The feeling of falling as if she had stepped on empty stairs suddenly woke her up. She gasped, covered her aching forehead and sat up. Only then did she realize that she had just hit her head on the armrest of the chair.
She looked around and saw the figure behind the easel appear on the beach not far away. The sunlight above her head cut down obliquely, and the light spots fell on her white skirt. She rubbed her face, and when she woke up a little, she jumped down the steps and ran towards the figure walking slowly on the beach.
The setting sun stretched the shadows on the beach, and the silent sea reflected a fiery red glow, like a dying candle. High school students, leaving school, walked hand in hand on the soft sand, their hair lifted high.
It wasn't until a shadow came up from behind that Yukimura noticed Kazama following him. He was holding shells of various sizes in his hands, which shone brightly in the sunlight.
"Don't you think these shells are like the broken dishes we had when we were little?" Feng Jian came up excitedly, then curled his lips. "But Sister Ling scolded us both badly back then."
"Of course I remember," Yukimura said with a smile, "You were so creative back then that you made a wind chime out of the broken bowl and gave it to me."
"What do you mean by giving it away?" Feng Jian rolled his eyes at him. "It was you who stole my things."
Yukimura lowered his head and smiled, then turned to look at the end of the fiery red. Kazama was busy looking for shells, muttering, "I can take this back to make a wind chime for Sister Ling, and this one will also work..." When he suddenly heard the voice of a young man:
"Kazama, Rikkai University will not lose again."
He paused in his search for shells, turned his head, and saw Yukimura bathed in soft light, with the fiery red silhouette of the setting sun reflected between his eyebrows. His expression was focused and serious, exactly the same as the look he had on his face when he was a child and someone surpassed him in first place.
"Yes, I believe it."
Just like when she was in elementary school, she was standing in the audience and he was standing on the champion's podium, smiling confidently and brightly.
Kazama slowed down his digging and added, "But President Tezuka won't lose, and neither will we at Seigaku."
"By the way, Kazama," Yukimura turned around with a mischievous smile in his eyes, "this is the second time you've mentioned Tezuka today."
"Because President Tezuka is really great." Kazama turned his face away and lowered his head, his earlobes burning from the sunlight.
Yukimura glanced at her, frowned slightly, smiled suddenly, and changed the subject, "Well, Kazama, do you know how long you slept today? I slept for three hours."
"It's because I helped Sister Ling move things a few days ago, and my waist almost broke." Feng Jian stretched and glanced at her. "It's not too much to catch up on some sleep."
Yukimura just smiled.
"Wait..." Feng Jian belatedly covered his lips, no saliva was oozing from him, but Yukimura's smile was a bit creepy, "You didn't secretly draw ugly pictures of me while I was asleep, did you?"
"Congratulations," Yukimura said, his coat half-folded across his chest, like a sail billowing in the wind, rustling against her hair, but instantly disappearing. His eyebrows curved, "You got the answer right."
Feng Jian clenched his fists and put down the bottle containing the shells: "...Hey, Yukimura, explain it to me clearly!"
She chased after him and climbed onto his shoulders. Yukimura's clear voice was melted into the wind and drifted away.
"Kazama, your strength is still as great as before."
"Are you begging for mercy? I'll let you go if you delete the ugly photos and draw me a hundred good-looking ones."
"I refuse."
“That’s too much!”
The footprints on the beach were heated by the sun. The evening breeze blew away the blank drawing paper and rolled up a corner of the colorful drawing paper underneath. The girl's pure white skirt was like a white sail, and her black hair fluttered freely in the clear sky, like a free bird.
Write a few words in the lower left corner of the drawing paper:
「ひかり」.
Tokyo in August was chilled by a sudden downpour. The hot and humid air was mixed with the fragrance of earth and grass. A banner with the words "National Competition Opening" clung to the wall like a sail wet by the rain.
"Tezuka, I'm looking forward to seeing you in the finals of the national competition." The boy raised his khaki jacket slightly on his shoulders, and his voice was crisp and clear.
“We are looking forward to it too.”
Tezuka stared at the field with a calm gaze.
Youngsters in colorful school uniforms stood in the audience, their cyan, purple, and yellow interweaving into a moving canvas. A rainbow peeked out from behind dark clouds, and golden sunlight fell on a plaque inscribed with "National Competition."
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