Secrets, Socials, and Seigaku

Chapter 34

            I would like to think that I have a descent hold on my temper. I would like to say that when someone does make me angry that I can handle it in a…mature way. So even though I told everyone that I was just going to warm-up that was anything but the case.  Mizuki just pisses me off, to put it bluntly, and I needed some alone time to maturely get rid of the anger.

            I ran around, dodging all the players and fans standing outside the courts, looking for the farthest, emptiest, court to play on. Waiting for me in the farthest corner was exactly that. A smile broke out on my face as I started to loosen my grip on my racket and sprint towards my very own promised land. I ran through the gates without even waiting to see if anyone was on the court. I took a moment to take in the court as a place where I could let everything out before making my way to the base line.

Grabbing a ball from my pocket I started to get into position. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes concentrating all my thoughts on tennis and erasing Mizuki from my mind. My eyes opened with determination and a quick flick of the wrist the ball was hovering in the air above me. I brought my opposing arm up and smacked the ball as hard as I could enjoying the popping sound it made as it made contact with my racket. The ball whizzed past the service line and made a solid connection… with the net.

I could only stare; I guess I just needed to warm-up a bit more. I did the same serve again, and again, and again, and again, and each time I ended with the same pitiful result. “What is going on here?” I asked myself, frustrated.

I looked down at my hands and noticed they were shaking, but with what? It certainly wasn’t excitement, or adrenaline. My eyes narrowed as I identified the dreaded emotions I had come across so many times. Anger, nervousness, and mostly fear; these emotions always seemed to come in a package. I stared at my hands for a couple more seconds, trying to think of something that would help. Every time I would try to solve the complex problem I came to the same brick wall though, Mizuki. It’s not that his very existence bothered me; it wasn’t even that he was sorely underestimating me. It was the fact that he could make my blood boil and bring me to the point where I don’t even know what would happen if my anger got out of hand.

“What are you doing here?” My head whipped around to the familiar voice coming from outside the gates.

I groaned and slumped over in my spot. “Not you guys again.” I muttered with heavy sarcasm. I was not in the mood to put up with these two today.

Kamio pushed open the gate and stormed on to the court with Shinji on tail. You could tell he was still upset about his team losing. He glared at me and stood akimbo in front of me. “Just because you beat us in the tournament doesn’t mean you can go around thinking you’re all high and mighty, stealing other peoples courts!” Kamio ranted.

I rolled my eyes and suppressed a bored sigh. “Please,” I scoffed in several lower pitches than his ranting, “Did you skip the kindergarten class where they taught you how to share?” I may be frustrated, but there was always a cocky smirk waiting for someone if need be.

Kamio just became even more pissed off. “I know how to share! I just don’t want to share with you!” Kamio said even louder this time. His eyes seemed to be a doorway into the unforgivable pits of hell.

Shinji, being the silent guy he is, walked in front of Kamio to silently face me. “Don’t take his ranting personally, he’s in a bad mood.” He said suddenly before walking past me to sit on the benches located on the edges of the courts. He is just too antisocial, how can Tachibana deal with that?

“Well?” Kamio screeched again, gaining back my lost attention.

“Look,” I said, starting to get irritated that he wouldn’t get the hint of leaving me alone. “Is your name on this court?” I said with a bit of attitude. He smirked crudely and pointed behind me to the bench that Shinji was going to sit on. On the bench was a gold inscription that read ‘Fudomine’ that was engraved into the bench itself.