Ch.6

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On my way back, I switched up my music choices a bit.

Sing, by my chemical romance.

My eyes closed, and I rested my head, thinking. Why did he know that I had quit? I never said anything about that, did I? My mind wandered to the tennis racquet I had in my room. The white hexagons, and the dark strings had a drawing feel to them. I gritted my teeth. "Tch." I guess it would be a waste to buy a perfect racquet, and not use it even once.

At home, I greeted Ryoma, laughing with him. Then, when mother was out, and dad was god-knows-where (probably stalking Ryoma) I got ready.

Yukimura's words had struck a chord somewhere in me.

After all, my rage episodes hadn't appeared when I still played tennis, had they?

I shrugged on a grey jersey, and an old grey cap from the wall. I wrapped my wrists in gauze, and did a punching motion with my hands in front of the mirror. I needed to get my tension out somehow.

I put my hair up, into the hat, and took some more bandages with me. Halfway out, I remembered my eyes. Back in Cali, my friends had always said that my eyes were the most memorable things about me.

That had to change. I pulled my cap further down, limiting outside vision of my face.

I took my racquet, and walked to the courts.
I entered the courts, and I felt all of the motion around me stop. A ball hit the mesh fence, and there was silence.

Disregarding it, I walked to a half-court, and began to practice.

After I had finished warming up, and had started messing around with trick shots on the half-court, A person with long reddish hair and a cat-like grin came, bounding up to me.

"Oishi, Oishi, look, there's a little kid here!" He patted my head.

I felt frustration boil up in me. "I'm not a kid."

I ignored them, getting back to practice.

The silence rung now, and I heard someone approaching from my left. probably the "Oishi" character cat-boy was calling earlier.
"Hey, you look a lot like that freshman from our school, don't you?"

I smiled. "Do I?"

"Yes, are you two related, by any chance?" His eyes narrowed slightly, a smile still on his face.

I smiled. "I came here to play tennis. I don't see how my lineage concerns you." I said, calmly, analytically.

Another boy approached, smiling, he put his hand out to greet me. "I'm Momoshiro. I'll play you."

"What makes you think I want to play you?" I asked.

I kept practicing, varying the amount of spin on the tennis ball on the court with each step.

He used his racket to hit the ball out of the air in front of me, making it bounce irregularly, out of the court.

"Oops!" Sorry about that!!

I stopped, shifting my now broken-in racquet from hand to hand, positively glowering.

"What's wrong with you? I just came here to mess around." My patience was wearing thin. Even this form of calming down was evading me.

In a moment of hot headedness, I agreed to the match, calmly walking to the other side of the court.

I had one stipulation. "Each time I win a game, you owe me a tennis ball.... To make up for the one you hit out of the court."

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