Author's Note: I open this chapter by saying this grace: Thank you for all you wonderful readers and your wonderful words and patience! Thank you to my wonderful beta-reader, Zen Nat, for her wonderful efforts and support! Thank you to you all, I will continue to work hard to update sooner. Amen.
Rating: PG-13
Focus: His Pillar of Support
In Germany, Tezuka thought about Ryoma constantly.
No matter the time of day, where he was, or under what circumstances, thoughts of the freshman always arose.
Even though Tezuka was aware that he was bordering on being obsessive, he could not help it anymore than he could help breathing.
Tezuka had been caught off guard. Never would he have suspected that he would miss the other boy this much; the intensity of it was disconcerting at times. Had he known he would feel this way before coming to Munich, he would have probably taken a longer time to contemplate his decision. He knew it was uncharacteristic for him to even think this way, but no doubt distance and a heightened sense of loneliness—being away from home and everything that was familiar to him—attributed to it as well. Still, though he also missed his grandparents and Ryuzaki, and his team members, especially those who were closest to him like Fuji and Oishi, none of them compared to how much he missed Ryoma.
In fact, almost as soon as he arrived, he already found himself longing for the sight of the younger boy's familiar smirk and the sound of his grumbling voice. He kept the picture Fuji had given to him before he got on the plane underneath his pillow so that he could pull it out and look at it at night when thoughts about Ryoma were at their most intense. He was embarrassed for being so nostalgic but in the solitude of his own room at the hospital, the comfort of having the picture so close at hand and easily accessible overruled his sense of pride. He liked having the image of Ryoma's disgruntled expression on his mind before he went to sleep.
Of course, there were other things he missed about Echizen, things that were related to certain physical needs; all of which he was rudely reminded of when the freshman decided to play that prank on him on the phone. Though he couldn't deny the irresistible allure of Ryoma's actions and appreciated it very much on an aesthetic level, since he knew the intent was only to tease, Tezuka was forced to downplay his reaction at the time. In truth, he had to focus on muting his response; he was quite serious about trying to avoid all sensual thoughts in relation to Ryoma. If he lingered too long on how the physical pleasures he was now deprived of, he would just be making his own life more difficult and the time here that much more tortuous to pass. After all, to go from having little to no physical contact with anybody throughout most of his life to intense intimate contact, only to fall back to down to zero was something even he was not looking forward to coping with, especially since it was still undetermined how long his stay in the institute would last.
To fill the sudden void of both the proximity and physical contact, Tezuka started taking comfort in composing long messages to Ryoma which consisted of describing in vivid detail his surroundings and daily life in Munich. His mind was set at ease whenever he imagined Ryoma sitting in his bedroom, reading his e-mails and then picturing his surroundings and experiencing his day as he lived it. By doing this, Tezuka felt the distance between them lessen, if only by a minute amount that probably could not be recorded in any measurable way. He would have been even more comforted if Ryoma shared his practice and wrote back equally involved messages, but even he knew that was wishful thinking on his part. In truth, if Ryoma had done that, he would have probably questioned the authenticity of the e-mails.
Talking on the phone helped even more, of course, but after being told about Nanjiroh's uproar over the bill, Tezuka immediately reduced his usage of that means of communication. He tried using prepaid phone cards so that the elder Echizen wouldn't have to foot the bill, but before long, that option had to be eliminated altogether, except for emergencies, due to the obvious impracticality of that method, considering the fact that the senior's funds were quite limited. However, not wanting to give up such a direct and easy way of conversing without at least exploring all of the options, the two of them next turned to the Internet phone. Unfortunately, due to the quality of the connection at the institute, they had to give up on that option as well since Ryoma quickly grew impatient with having to constantly repeat himself while trying to figure out what Tezuka was saying each time.
So in the end, Tezuka could only seek solace in their e-mail correspondence, but that too eventually met its end when one day, out of the blue, Ryoma responded to one of Tezuka's standard messages by writing: Buchou, you write a lot, don't you?
Incorrectly assuming that the younger boy had grown weary of reading his many treatises, Tezuka instantly began cutting down on the length of his e-mails. How could he have known that in actuality, Ryoma had been amused by his wordy prose and had only meant to tease him—that the freshman's question was borne from endearment rather than ire. As was one of the drawbacks of written words instead of spoken, Tezuka mistook his question for a complaint and therefore reacted accordingly.
As his awareness of the length of his e-mails grew, Tezuka began to look for a different alternative altogether so as not to burden Ryoma with reading what he started to see as his own cumbersome messages. It took a while before he eventually found it—pictures. He would send pictures to the other boy instead of writing to him. As soon as Tezuka started doing that, he realized how much he favored this method instead since the images were so much more capable of conveying his thoughts than any words he could conjure up, having never considered himself a prolific writer to begin with.
Thus, the senior embarked on his mission to send as many effective photos as possible, first taking pictures of all the different things that he had previously described to Echizen, and then soon moving on to random subjects that generally just reminded him of Ryoma in some way, no matter how miniscule the connection. The only prose he supplied with his images were captions explaining what each photograph was, and even then, at times, he chose not to include that, believing the picture was adequate enough. He never solicited the other boy for his reaction to the sudden change in how he communicated, since it wasn't in his nature to do so, therefore, he was quite relieved when, after receiving several e-mails with just images attached, Ryoma finally addressed them by writing: You're weird. But the pictures aren't bad.
His thoughts of Ryoma were not just limited to the personal, but to the professional as well, since even from where he was, his role as the captain of the Seigaku tennis team was not forgotten. Thoughts about the freshman's progress would naturally lead to the upcoming tournaments and his team's preparation for them. He was kept informed through e-mail and infrequent phone conversations with Coach Ryuzaki and Oishi. In contrast, his contact with the other Regulars were mostly by e-mail only: since most of them were not privy to the more talkative side of Tezuka which Ryoma was acquainted with, their correspondence was more or less a reflection of how they normally interacted with Tezuka while he was in Japan. Meaning, for Momo and Kaidoh, other than the initial courteous inquiries and standard words of encouragement, which were mainly in response to Tezuka's first message informing the group that he had arrived in Germany safely, they had pretty much slinked back into the shadows in silence as they usually did in the presence of their esteemed leader, practicing the old adage of speaking only when being spoken to.
The third years were of course more bold and casual; after all, they were Tezuka's peers and have known him longer. For the most part, they maintained a more steady stream of correspondence with him, especially when it came to Fuji and Inui. Though he was kept abreast of most of the developments in the team in this way, Tezuka held back from commentating or even providing guidance. Having entrusted the team to Oishi, he made sure to support his appointed substitute's authority by not interjecting with his own opinion, even when Oishi was the one who asked for it. Tezuka believed that was the only way to forced Oishi, who has always been rather hesitant and at times overly fretful, to make decisions for the team and stick by them. The method seemed to work. Tezuka was glad when he was able to remain just a symbol of motivation for the team even through the Jyousei Shounan and Rokkaku tournaments. He took pride in the fact that not only was he able to leave in his team in such good hands, but that he had such a good team to begin with that they were able to do so well even in his absence. He was very proud of them and only wished it was in his nature to give voice to that fact so that he could tell them directly in so many words.
With the approach of their last hurdle before the Nationals—which he knew would be the hardest they would have to face given that Seigaku had never won against Rikkaidai—Tezuka had a strong feeling that this team with these Regulars would manage to surpass. He was confident in their physical abilities, and knew that they had worked hard in his presence and even harder in his absence. For the most part, he was also confident in their psychological preparation in going into battle, with just one notable exception, and that being the same person who had been occupying the majority of his waking thoughts: Ryoma. Specifically, he was worried about the younger boy's frame of mind.
To anyone else, his concern about that particular aspect would be odd, considering Ryoma's performance in both the Jyousei Shounan and Rokkaku matches, which proved without a doubt that he had more than earned his place as one of the top players in Seigaku. That was why Tezuka did not mention his qualms to anyone, not even to Ryuzaki. But with the news of Ryoma's latest victories came the realization that the freshman had been undefeated in all of his official matches. Ironically, it was this realization that the seed of apprehension began to take root in Tezuka.
Under any circumstances, straight wins would be considered a crowning achievement; anyone would be hard-pressed to find downside in such an astounding accomplishment. Tezuka did, however, especially when taking Ryoma's nature into consideration. Ryoma is arrogant, almost unfalteringly so. That aspect of his personality he possessed in abundance, ever more so than his fellow Regular counterparts. While Tezuka had no doubt that the freshman had the abilities to back up his ego, his concern stemmed from the possibility of that one day, Ryoma could be blind-sided by his own pride. The likelihood of that happening would be highest during an official match, since experience has probably lulled the younger boy into believing that true opposition would never come during those moments. As capable as Ryoma was of dealing with defeat under his father's hands and even his own, Tezuka was afraid that Ryoma would underestimate the strength of other opponents outside of his innermost circle since he has gotten so used to winning. Being fully aware of the caliber of players that made up the Rikkaidai team—players that were so strong that they didn't even need a coach—Tezuka knew Rikkaidai was the worst team for Ryoma to be underestimating. Especially since he knew that the finals line up would pit Ryoma against Rikkaidai's vice captain, Sanada Genichirou, whose skills most likely rivaled his own.
He knew Ryuzaki and Oishi were doing everything to prepare all the Regulars for the Rikkaidai tournament and therefore didn't want to further single Ryoma out by voicing his concern. Blatantly addressing the issue and discussing it with Ryoma was out of the question, so he could only make subtle attempts at broaching the subject. Much to his disappointment, his occasional warnings to Ryoma about not being careless when preparing for the finals, his good intentions were usually only greeted with curt and sardonic responses. Though Tezuka knew that was quite typical of Ryoma, he also knew he failed at driving his point home.
As a result, the night before the Rikkaidai tournament, Tezuka found sleep escaping him. Not one to toss and turn in bed, he simply laid motionlessly as stiff as a log while staring up at the ceiling. Several times he was tempted to just call Ryoma but since he had already offered his well-wishes earlier, he knew any additional gesture on his part would only be in excess. Not to mention, Tezuka did not want to disturb Ryoma from his much needed slumber or interrupt whatever routine he might be going through in mentally preparing for the Rikkaidai match.
Shortly before dawn, approximately an hour before the time the finals would be starting in Japan, the senior got up from his bed to stand by his window. Realizing that sleep was hopeless at this point, he decided to watch the sun rise instead. The nearest tower for his cellphone carrier was under repair, leaving him with no reception and therefore no means of receiving calls. The payphones downstairs were his only option for making calls. As a result, he had to ask Oishi to e-mail him the results of the finals when the matches were all over. He knew he still had hours to wait, but he had asked for his schedule to be kept clear until the afternoon so that he would have the opportunity to receive the news as soon as it arrived.
He was therefore surprised when within a few minutes of him getting up from bed, a chime sounded from his computer, notifying him of a new incoming message.
He was further astonished when he saw that the message was indeed from Oishi, who had texted him from his cell:
Tezuka, the tournament has been postponed a week due to the rain! We have one more week to prepare! I am heading back to school now with sensei and Inui to discuss our training plans for this week. I will text you again when I return so you can call me to talk. Let me know if you have any ideas. I hope this is a good thing!
After reading the unbelievable message once again, Tezuka leaned back against his chair and closed his eyes. One week. He knew what Oishi meant in his last sentence. One more week to prepare, one more week to wait. While having an important event like this postponed for a week might seem like a godsend to many, to athletes like them, who have already spent weeks preparing themselves for this day, changes like this was not entirely welcomed and might in fact be seen as a disastrous turn of events. No doubt they had been geared up and ready for battle, only to be told that their pent up energy was all for naught. For some people, getting psyched up all over again and in the same way might be an impossibility. It was similar to the slow uncapping of a shaken soda, the built up pressure inside would simply fizzle out instead of bursting out in one explosive blast. And then, on top of that, leaving the soda uncapped for days so that by the time cap is replaced and the bottle is shaken again, all that would result is a whimper of air. To maintain the intensity and motivation of the Regulars, Tezuka knew the training regimen for this coming week would be even more crucial than any they have ever had.
His thoughts turned to Ryoma then, wondering how the younger boy reacted to the news and what he must be thinking now. No doubt he would find this sudden change to be more of an annoyance than a stroke of luck. Tezuka briefly contemplated e-mailing him but in the end, decided against it. Ryoma would most likely send him a message later on his own anyway, probably something along the lines of: finals postponed a week. So boring.
Tezuka smiled. He shall simply wait for the boy's e-mail and respond accordingly.
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But the day went by and then evening came, and still, Ryoma did not contact him. Tezuka grew more concerned. The sudden lack of communication went against the usual norm, since for the past two tournaments, Ryoma would usually send a few words to Tezuka before and after the matches which gave him a glimpse into the freshman's current state of mind. For Ryoma to not contact him in some way was highly odd, even if the finals were postponed.
Later that night, finally giving up on just waiting for a message, Tezuka e-mailed the other boy on his phone with the following:
Oishi informed me the finals were postponed.
He knew that if Ryoma wanted to say anything about it, a simple statement like that would be enough to encourage him.
He timed his message so that it would be roughly the hour Ryoma would wake up to go to morning practice. Thirty minutes went by but still, there was no response. Not wanting to overreact, Tezuka considered the possibility that the other boy had forgotten to charge his phone once again, so he decided to e-mail his computer instead. Of course that meant that Ryoma probably wouldn't see the message until he came home from practice that night, but at least he knew for certain that Ryoma would see the message. He kept his second e-mail as brief as the first one, not wanting to give away the fact that he was growing more concerned by the minute. He knew two messages was already one too many; the freshman would probably figure out right away that Tezuka was worried and tease for being such a worrywart, but the young captain decided he would rather deal with the verbal ribbing than the uncharacteristic and unsettling silence.
When at least the response finally did come later on in the day, Tezuka was disconcerted when he saw that instead of coming Ryoma, the message was actually from Kawamura. Given that his rate of correspondence with the other senior was minimal at best due to their introverted natures, Kawamura really was one of the last persons Tezuka would expect to hear from, especially considering the odd timing. Upon reading the message, Tezuka finally obtained the reason for Ryoma's sudden lack of communication and the proof that all his worries about the younger boy were indeed justified.
Before doing anything further, Tezuka first replied to Kawamura, thanking him for letting him know what happened. The other senior had stated in his message that not only was Tezuka the only person he planned to share the information with, but he hoped that the captain would keep his message a secret even from the freshman, not wanting to embarrass Ryoma further. After clicking send, Tezuka got up and went over to his window and stood there looking out with his hands in his pockets. After a long moment, he took a deep calming breath which he released in a slow exhale. The initial concern he felt for Ryoma after reading what happened was slowly ebbing away to a rising sense of frustration mingled with displeasure. Though he didn't find it at all surprising that Ryoma would do something as rash as challenging Sanada to a match, he still wished for once that the other boy would have done the unexpected and not given in to his foolish impulses. At this point, Tezuka could only be thankful that the impromptu match hadn't taken place the day before the finals, though God knows enough damage had already been done. No wonder Ryoma had been in no mood to respond to phone calls or e-mails. Tezuka would be surprised if the other boy's head was filled with anything but thoughts of his formidable opponent. He could only imagine the feeling of helplessness and humiliation Ryoma must have underwent to have been so utterly beaten by someone he probably hadn't even deemed necessary to take into consideration before this.
Tezuka remained by the window for a long time. He finally came to a decision. He had a 2 o'clock appointment that was quick approaching so he had to act fast or else he wouldn't have any free time until evening. Ryoma was, in a sense, broken, and he had to be fixed somehow. And while Tezuka knew a lot of the fixing would have to be conducted by Ryoma himself, he knew a way to help him on his journey to recovery.
Naturally, he was not going to bring up the subject to Ryoma and he was definitely not going to let him know that he knew about the whole incident. He already knew that confronting the freshman would be counterproductive. Instead, he would have to renege on his self-imposed decree and actually interfere with Ryuzaki-sensei and Oishi's training plans by suggesting some important changes. Even if his alterations did little to help extract Ryoma from the rut of his own making, he had to at least try. In the very least, the other Regulars might benefit from his arrangements.
He rummaged through his desk for his organizer which had his phone and address book. He would have to contact the coach and Oishi first to get their approval and feedback. He would probably have to explain what happened to Ryuzaki, since, being as sharp as she is, she would no doubt immediately sense something was up. He had no qualms about telling her, and he knew Ryuzaki would keep his confidence. In terms of Oishi, however, Tezuka decided it was better to keep him in the dark about what happened between Ryoma and Sanada. That bit of information would do little to assuage his nerves and would simply be adding another weight to the already heavy burden he had to shoulder. As he started on his message to his coach, Tezuka thought that perhaps it was indeed a godsend that they were granted another week to prepare for the Rikkaidai finals. He still wasn't at all happy with what Ryoma did, but if the psychological damage can be salvaged somehow during the coming week, then perhaps it was a good thing for Ryoma to get a preview of what he was up against in the finals.
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He got the first good sign that things were looking up when his Yamato-buchou sent him the following e-mail :
The little pillar shows much promise; good choice on that one, Tezuka-kun. Haha, but it's no wonder you had to give me a little warning; he did put up some resistance at first. Luckily, we were able to fall down a cliff and spend some time alone fishing and ruminating about nature and tennis. His spirit seemed to be in a better shape when I left him. Sometimes it does take a stranger to lead one out of a mental maze of one's own doing, even if that stranger is an oddity like me.
Get better soon so you can rejoin your friends.
Best Regards,
Yamato
Tezuka of course had given no indication to Yamato of his deeper relationship with Ryoma, but he had no doubt that if his previous captain were to ever see the two of them together, he would probably guess it right away without even needing to ask. Yamato was a rather eccentric person, but Tezuka had never met anyone else with sharper insight into people.
A short while later, Ryoma sent him an e-mail as well, which read simply:
Met your Yamato. I guess I can see why you admire him. But he's still a weirdo.
The words brought a smile to Tezuka's lips. Prior to this, he had only received one message from Ryoma, which even though was supposed to be a response to his earlier inquiries, was rather disappointing in how noncommittal and curt the tone was:
It's postponed. Going to training camp.
This new message was definitely an improvement and more reminiscent of their usual correspondence. Now that Yamato started Ryoma on his path to mental healing, all that remained was to repair the bridge between the mental and the physical so that they could once again overlap and meld together. Tezuka hoped that the candidate he enlisted to do so would be just as successful since his role was perhaps even more crucial than Yamato's.
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"…Yeah. The match with Echizen ended in a 6-6 tie."
"I see."
"But anything could have happened if it had gone into a tie break."
"Yes. Sorry for imposing on you, Atobe."
"Hurry up and get your shoulder healed so you can play me again. I will completely crush you the next time."
"I'm looking forward to it. Thank you."
"See you."
After Tezuka hung up the phone, he sighed and stood a moment with his hand remaining on the receiver. Without being in Japan himself, this was all he could do for Ryoma.
He hoped that it was enough.
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A few hours later, Tezuka received the following e-mail from Ryoma:
Played against Atobe today. Tied this time. Next time, I will crush him. 'Night.
Smiling, Tezuka wrote back: Yes. Good night.
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It was the day of the finals, take two.
Tezuka was making his way back to the dorms at a leisurely pace.
He slept all the way through last night and didn't even wake up until his alarm clock went off at 7. By then he knew the finals tournament was already well under way, and he wouldn't have been surprised if they had already gotten to Singles 3. He glanced once at his computer just to make sure before heading to the bathroom. He performed his morning ritual and then went out on his morning jog. He then stopped by the coffee cart in the courtyard to buy a cup of warm milk before finally returning to his room.
When he sat down at his computer, he saw that there were actually nine new messages in his Inbox waiting for him. His heart beat speeded up just a bit as he opened the first one, which was from Oishi. The following popped up on screen:
TEZUKA, WE WON!!! WE WON THE CHAMPIONSHIP!!
Next, one from Fuji:
Tezuka, we won!
From Inui:
Tezuka, we won!
Followed by Ryuzaki, Kawamura, Eiji, Momoshiro, and Kaidoh, all their messages a variation on the same theme: We won!!
Finally, the last message from Ryoma, which read:
Nah, buchou, have you heard? We won. Heh. Did you expect anything less?
To which he responded with a simple but honest:
No.
A few minutes later, he received a reply:
Good. You shouldn't.
Expecting nothing else from Ryoma for at least the rest of the day, Tezuka was pleasantly surprised when he received another e-mail just a short while later:
Hey. I know what you did. Yamato and Atobe. Thank you. Wish you were here today.
Tezuka replied:
I wish I was there too.
A few minutes passed, and then another message:
Hurry up and get better then. You're next on my list to beat.
Tezuka smiled and answered:
I'll be prepared for you.
After another brief interlude, Ryoma responded:
Call me tonight. E-mail is boring.
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A few days later, Tezuka received a package in the mail from Oishi. He opened it up to find that it was a videotape labeled: Our Championship Game!
Since the only entertainment center available was in the recreation room downstairs, Tezuka waited until later that night to watch the tape so that the VCR would be free. He watched the images on the screen avidly, his face almost too close to the screen. He had earphones on so that he could turn the volume on high and be completely enveloped by the sounds of the game. He sat watching the tournament from beginning to end with his upper body leaning forward while sitting on the edge of his seat. When Ryoma and Sanada's match started, he leaned in just a little more. As the match progressed, the bridge of nose crinkled a bit, the tiny crease remaining until the match was over. When the championship medals were handed out to each of the Seigaku team member, Tezuka finally sat back against his chair and removed his glasses with one hand while rubbing his eyes with another. He had hardly blinked throughout most of the tournament. After replacing his glasses, he was just about to lean forward to rewind the tape to rewatch the whole thing again when Ryuzaki's face suddenly popped up smack in the middle of the screen in a rather unflattering close-up.
"Tezuka, now that you've seen our championship game, the guys have some things they want to say to you," she said with a large grin while looking straight at the camera. "First up, Oishi, our fine substitute captain. Here, Oishi."
The image became shaky as the camera was being handed off to the person beside her. Oishi's face came into view. "Tezuka! We did it! We're not only going to the Nationals, but we're Regional Champions too! Can you believe it?! Look! Our medals! I kept my promise to you! And we couldn't have done it without you. Even though you weren't here with us physically, we felt your spirit urging us on! So get healed up soon so you can fight with us during the Nationals! Here's Eiji."
"Tezuka! We won, we won!! Well, I didn't really help much this time—"
Oishi could be heard protesting from beside him, "Eiji, don't say that, you tried your best!"
"No, it's true. It was my fault we lost in doubles 1. I lost control of my emotions. But don't worry! I won't make that mistake again! We will win all the way in the Nationals! Promise! And now heeere's Fuji!"
"Hi Tezuka, how are you doing? We did well, didn't we? We couldn't have done it without you, Oishi, or sensei. Like Oishi said, we felt you with us the entire way, leading us to victory. We can't wait until you're physically back by our side again, leading us to yet more victories. Get better soon. Here is Inui."
"Yo, Tezuka, hope all is well with you. We beat the odds, didn't we? Even though I calculated that initially our chance of winning would be 0.1 percent--"
At this, Eiji interjected with, "0.1 percent?-! Inui! That's mean! What faith you had!"
Inui had turned to look at the other boy, he then turned back to the camera and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, continued, "Ahem, well, I was able to increase that probability to 0.4 percent after our training camp at Karuizawa."
"0.4 percent? That's it, Inui-senpai?" This time Momoshiro was the one to protest.
"The important thing is," Inui continued unabated, "we overcame the odds. Our team is solid, Tezuka. We are constantly overcoming my data, so I'm sure the probability of us overcoming any future obstacles should be the same. We eagerly await your return so we can beat the odds together with you. Kaidoh's next."
"Good words, Inui. You've redeemed yourself," Eiji could be heard saying in approval as the camera was handed over to Kaidoh, who looked visibly flustered and was obviously ill at ease in front of the camera.
"Bu-buchou!" He bobbed his head once in a firm nod in respect. "We won."
"Idiot, he knows that," Momoshiro's voice mumbled from somewhere near.
Kaidoh immediately flashed a scathing look in the direction of the other boy as he demanded threateningly, "What did you call me, you bastard?"
"Bastard? Who're you calling bastard, you bastard?!"
"What? You asking for a fight, you ugly piece of—"
"Hey, hey, you two!" Ryuzaki warned just as Oishi exclaimed, "You guys, the captain is going to see all of this!"
Kaidoh's face immediately flushed with color as he looked down at the camera in panic. "Can-can we delete that?" he asked desperately as his eyes darted searchingly for the delete button.
"No! Leave it in!" Eiji cried with a shout of laughter. "It'll give Tezuka a good laugh."
Kaidoh's lips curled in what appeared to be a look of distaste, but his next words indicated he was simply having a hard time imagining that scenario. "The captain? Laughing?"
Inui could be heard saying in a low voice to him, "Kaidoh, you're still being recorded."
Kaidoh's eyes bulged at the reminder and his head dipped down hard in yet another nod as he ended his screen time with, "A quick recovery, captain!"
The camera was practically dumped in the next person's lap, so the image became erratic and shaky as the next person tried to steady it. Kawamura's face appeared and he also dipped his head slightly in a nod of respect. "Kon-konichiwa, Tezuka. How is your shoulder? I hope you are feeling better. Um…I'm not sure what to say…."
"This is boring," Tezuka heard Ryoma's voice say. "Here, Kawamura-senpai, take this."
"Wait, Echizen, I don't think that's a good—" Oishi began, but his voice was instantly drowned out by Kawamura suddenly bellowing, "BUUUUUUUUUURNINNNNNNNNG!!! HAHAHA!! LOOK TEZUKA, OUR TEAM IS ON FIIIRE!!! WE ARE HOT!!! WE ARE BUUUURNINNNNG!! WE ARE WINNERS!!!" Tezuka removed his earphones after the first syllable that was yelled but he could still hear the other senior's voice as clearly as if he still had them on.
Kawamura then proceeded to fling the camera around in a wide arc in an attempt to scan the audience, but that only resulted in a bunch of dizzying, jumbled images, with a few partial shots of astonished looks.
"Kawamura-senpai! You're gonna drop the camera!" Momoshiro shouted. From where he sat, Tezuka only sighed and shook his head. He could tell from the crazy motions of the screen and the sounds that were being emitted that some kind of struggle was taking place on the other end. When at last the image was steady, Ryuzaki's disapproving scowl filled the screen as she grumbled, "Mataku, you guys are like a bunch of drunk monkeys sometimes. Here, Momo, say your words and then give it to Echizen."
Momoshiro looked rather chagrinned when he came on. He bobbed his head slightly and rubbed the back of his neck as he said, "Tezuka-buchou, sorry about that. Well, what I want to say, the other senpais already said, in a much better way, so I'll just say, I hope you recover completely soon so you can come back and fight with us! And now…" the second year's flashed a wide, toothy grin, "…here's Echizen, buchou."
When at last the camera was handed to the freshman, Ryoma was not looking at the screen, but instead was looking beyond the lens at the others as he intoned, "What?"
Eiji could be heard exclaiming, "What? What do you mean what? Say something to Tezuka, Ochibi!"
Ryoma looked down at the camera so that for a split second, he was staring directly at Tezuka on the screen, before quickly turning his head away and resolutely stating, "I don't have anything to say."
"What?!" Momoshiro exclaimed from beside him, "What do you mean, you don't have anything to say? Are you crazy?-!"
The camera was jostled for a beat, Tezuka imagined that it was probably caused by the freshman shrugging his shoulders. "I don't."
"THINK of something!"
Another jostle. "Don't wanna."
"Say something to the captain, Echizen!"
"No."
"Ochibi! How can you? You have to say something!" This from Eiji.
"I said don't wanna."
"Look here," Momoshiro said warningly, "Echizen, stop being such a brat. You of all people—"
"Er, Momoshiro, if Echizen doesn't want to, don't make a big deal about it," Oishi said meaningfully from somewhere nearby.
"Huh? But-but, Oishi-senpai, don't you think Tezuka-buchou would want to hear from Echizen?"
"That's right, that's right. Tezuka would want that, Oishi," Eiji added eagerly. "Especially from Echizen!"
Tezuka sighed again. He wondered if there were any other club members around in addition to Ryuzaki-sensei. Despite their well meant intentions, at this point, they could not have been more obvious if they had just spelled things out.
"Say something, Echizen!" Both Eiji and Momoshiro demanded again.
"No."
Even Kaidoh spoke up at this point, "Echizen, say something."
"No."
"Aah! You damn brat, why're you being so stubborn?" This from Momo.
"All right, all right, calm down," Oishi said. "If he doesn't want to, that's his choice. Here, give me the camera."
Before he did so, the edge of Ryoma's lips could be seen quirking up slightly in a smirk as he glanced down at the camera again out of the corner of his eyes. It was once again a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment, but because of the angle of the camera, which was pointing up at his face, Tezuka caught the look clearly. He gave a soft chuckle.
Once the camera was back in Oishi's hands, the substitute captain concluded their session by saying, "Well, that's all we wanted to say, Tezuka. Again, from all of us, get well, and we hope to see you soon!"
Next, the camera cut to a group shot of all the Seigaku team members, Regulars and non-Regulars, holding up a banner proclaiming them as Regional Champions and shouting, "Next, the Nationals!! Come back soon, Tezuka-buchou!"
The screen went blank and then to snow shortly after, signaling the end of the tape. Tezuka stopped it, but instead of hitting rewind, pressed play again and then rewind so that the images flashed across the screen as the tape wound backwards. He pressed play again when Ryuzaki's face first filled the screen so that he could re-watch that small segment once again before returning all the way to the beginning of the tape.
He spent the rest of the night rewatching the tape in its entirety at least twice more, wanting to relive the moment of their victory again and again with his team through the recorded images.
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About a week later, Tezuka received another e-mail from Oishi. Oddly enough, it was a blank message with only an attachment. The young captain clicked on the attachment to open it and then stared at the screen for a few seconds before stretching his lips in a wide smile.
What he was looking at was a flight itinerary for nine passengers traveling from Tokyo, Japan to Munich, Germany.