Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kotoko missed the ball. Today, we'd progressed onto actually using physical balls, but she had yet to hit more than three.
"Now your arm is too stiff." I told her. She'd made quite the improvement when it came to how loose her arms were, but now they were stiff as boards. I had to hand it to her, though. For the last three days, she'd been working hard. Every morning and every evening. And she hadn't been late once (or yet, at least).
With bruises riddled up her legs and spattered on her arms, I had to give her credit for her durability. I'd seen her determined many times, but now I was sure she was the most unrelenting person I knew. She may even have been worse than my mother, and until now, I'd never thought anyone would surpass her.
I flung another ball Kotoko's way. With a robotically stiff arm, she tapped it with the frame of her racket, it popping up and then rolling away from her. I guess I could consider it a hit.
"You're still too stiff. Relax."
"Yes." She nodded and got into position to try for another ball… which she missed. I decided to try something different.
"Just… pretend your arm is like the wind. Powerful but flexible." I said, figuring this technique might work for someone like her who needed visuals.
She whipped her racket at another ball, her arm conforming back to being loose. There was no helping her.
I rubbed my forehead and reached over to grab her wrist. I lengthened out her arm. With my other hand, I brought her shoulder forward. I then used her arm to show her to correct way to swing.
"Like this. It's really simple, you're just thinking too hard. And be quicker. Your steps are too slow."
She turned to me with an apologetic face, cheeks burned red with tonight's chill, "I'm sorry."
"Just keep practicing." I ordered and tossed her another. She missed.
"You have to keep your eye on the ball. Stop looking away." I threw another ball into the air. She hit it this time, but it was too low and hit the net instead of going over it.
"When you hit it, angle your racket up more. You're hitting it straight-on, so it won't go over the net."
"I know. I can do it."
The next ball she hit flew up high and bounced back to the ground a meter from her. I scrutinized her.
Really?
Kotoko giggled in a childishly embarrassed sort of way. I found myself admiring it for one short second.
The lights went out. The court was pitch black.
"Oh no!" Kotoko squealed. I sighed at myself.
"I forgot to tell the custodians we'd be out here again tonight." I said. Even in the dark, I knew she was smiling.
"So, we're done for the night?"
"Not quite yet. We'll just have to practice outside of the court." Kotoko groaned but followed my lead as we made for a street light.
"How much longer? I still have to study." She said.
"Stand over there," I directed her, "Hit it correctly once and we'll be done." I tossed a ball into the air. She swung with all her might, but the little spec of yellow disappeared into a shrub.
Again, and again, and again, she missed. I was beginning to think this practice wouldn't end.
"Okay, how about if you can hit it just once, you can leave?" I said. If she couldn't hit it even once, how was I expecting her to hit it correctly? We would be here all night.
"I'm trying." She said and shivered, rubbing her hands together. I threw another. Her racket clipped it, so I called it a night.
"We're done. See you tomorrow." I headed off for the locker rooms.
"See you tomorrow!" She skipped into the girls' locker room, a huge grin spread across her intensely happy face.
I paused, taken with it. Something spurred in me that I couldn't quite explain. It washed away with the cool wind that ripped through me, leaving me confuzzled. I concluded that I must've simply been tired.
