It was slightly cold for the time and season. Ominous clouds covered the sun above, and a cool wind tickled the hairs on Sakuno's arms, chilling the skin and summoning goosebumps.
It was probably not the day to be playing tennis outdoors, but Tomoka had asked and Sakuno, who was tired of braiding and rebraiding her hair, had relented easily. They had initially attempted an actual match, but after twenty minutes of hitting the net, going out-of-bounds, and one accidentally thrown racquet, they had abandoned it.
Now they stood side by side, each of them hitting a ball at the concrete wall, just like Ryoma used to do. Except their skills were nowhere near his.
"Hey Sakuno," whined Tomoka, as her ball bounced too high and flew right above her head. "It's not the same without Ryoma-sama, is it? It's kind of boring."
Sakuno responded with a vague sound of agreement.
Nationals hovered before Seigaku like an eagerly awaited spirit, and even as Tomoka and Sakuno's excitement grew, their longing for the tennis club's gifted freshman grew even more. It was dull without Ryoma, so dull that sometimes Sakuno stood before her mirror at night and said, "Mada mada dane," in what barely passed for an arrogant tone, just so she could hear it again.
Sakuno stole a glance at her companion, who had retrieved her ball and was chasing it back and forth, hitting it back to the wall eight times in succession. Sakuno was half-awed and half-envious that Tomoka, who wasn't in the girls' tennis club, was better than Sakuno, who was in the tennis club and still could only return four, maybe five, balls to the unmoving concrete.
Sakuno tossed the ball experimentally into the air a few times before she hit it. It bounced off the wall, and she shrieked when it struck her foot and rolled away. With a disappointed whine, she ran after it.
It was still rolling, though just barely, when she caught up to it, and she stopped it with her racquet and bent to pick it up. As her fingers clenched around it, she though suddenly of Ryoma's face, its black outline on a fuzzy yellow canvas. Sakuno wondered distantly if maybe she did need to cut her hair after all.
She jogged back to her place beside Tomoka, just as Tomoka swung too low and her ball soared over her racquet. Sakuno watched as she, with a faint sigh, racquet dangling from her hand, turned to gaze at her ball as it moved farther and farther away from her.
A drop of water struck Sakuno's scalp and dribbled down her forehead. She raised her eyes to the sky, and another drop hit the tip of her nose.
"Hey Sakuno," said Tomoka, and when Sakuno lowered her gaze from the clouds, she saw that Tomoka had moved closer and positioned herself directly in front of Sakuno.
"T-Tomo-chan," she stammered, as Tomoka rested her hand on Sakuno's shoulder, raised herself to her toes, and pressed her lips to Sakuno's.
Sakuno's fingers fluttered around her ball before they loosened their grip and let it drop. Her hand found Tomoka's arm, and there it clung as Tomoka's lips still pressed against hers, not moving but not needing to, since their presence was more than enough.
When Tomoka leaned back, Sakuno realized the rain drops had grown heavier and were falling more frequently. Her bangs stuck to her forehead, and water dripped from her chin and trickled down her calves. Her breath was coming in strange half-gasps, and she was probably blushing but she couldn't really tell, because every part of her seemed so warm.
Tomoka grinned at her and bounced back on her heels. "Hey Sakuno," she said cheerily. "We should probably go. It's starting to rain."
As Tomoka moved away from her, Sakuno lowered her eyes in search of her lost ball and found it in a small puddle forming near her foot. She bent to collect it in her grasp, and then watched quietly, blushing now for sure, as Tomoka jogged to retrieve her own.