Well, this is an okay filler chapter, I suppose. I'll try to spread the character attention more evenly. Do you guys want to see more of Tezuka? Taro? Hiroki?
Chapter 12: The Sato Method
Inner Kin: Sato? That sounds familiar.
Inner Taro: It should. If only you'd pay more attention to history class...
Inner Kin: Oh, right, that famous racer, right? What's his name, Tumi, Taki...
Inner Taro: Sato Takumo?
Inner Kin: That's the one!
Inner Taro: Why do I even bother with you? -.-U
A book dropped on Taro's head as he passed the bookshelves. "Itai." He instinctively suspected that Kin, as always, miraculously and capriciously appeared from thin air and dumped the book on his head. However, this time, she was nowhere in sight. Probably still recuperating from the guilt of losing the match.
He picked up the book he had dropped and put it back where it fell. As he was walking away, he realized that the title of the book included 'tennis.' Walking backwards, he picked it up again. He brushed off the dust and read the title: Lessons of Tennis by Masanosuke Fukuda. 'How ironic.' He opened to a random page and read the little blurb.
"This is the only one ball!
Therefore, you should hit it with all your heart.
You should polish your skills, build up your physical strength, cultivate your mentality through this shot.
You should display your own self through this shot.
This is the "spirit of playing tennis".
'I couldn't agree more.' Smiling, he considered buying the book. This was an ancient bookstore that was probably going to close pretty soon, which saddened him. This was one of the few places where he could feel completely secure. It was almost like an outlet where he could read to his heart's content as a way to escape the rest of the world. Kin didn't have much patience for books, but she often accompanied him and they would share a single book cuddling in a dusty armchair. 'Those were the good old days.'
He chose two other books written by famous Japanese tennis players that were in best condition. Taro smiled as he imagined Kin training herself relentlessly. Although Taro hated to admit it, when she was on the court, he could do nothing more than cheer. As he watched from the sidelines, he felt detached from her, as if she was an intangible figure, not the same best friend he had spent so many hours with. Although he knew she would do fine without his support, giving her these books was the least he could do, right? He could imagine her flushing and smiling, hugging him as she thanked him. It took him a while to realize that he was blushing madly.
He hurriedly rushed to the counter and asked the shop owner how much they cost.
"Well, son, you've helping me for years. You can take as many books from here as you want," the cashier replied as he organized the shelves.
"H-hontou? Here, arigatou gozaimasu," he took out a few coins and placed them on the counter. The old man was far too nice to him already. He rushed out, grabbing his backpack as he ran to the tennis courts where he knew Kin was practicing.
---Later---
Pok!
She stepped back.
Smash!
The ball whizzed by her head as she crouched, panting.
'I should have won that match. I had a strategy, but I didn't have the stamina or endurance to win it like I should have. Chikusho, if only I trained harder or lasted longer, I'm sure I could have won it.'
Inner Kin: ...But it didn't matter in the end, right?
'Maybe not this time, but certainly the next time and the time after that, that is, if there is one. I feel like such a hypocrite. How can I coach Ginka when I can't win a match myself?'
Inner Kin: You're being too tough on yourself. You tried your best, which is certainly better than everyone else's best.
'My best is nothing compared to onii-chan's best.'
Inner Kin: True. Just work harder. What's your best time from Ginka to home?
'In the morning, it's 43 minutes. In the afternoon, it's 49. My goal is to get 40 minutes for each. At least my sprints have been improving faster.'
Inner Kin: Have you decided who you're going to put on singles three? Itsuki or Tashiro?
'Actually, I've been thinking that-'
"Kin-chan!" A red-faced Taro panted beside her, clutching books next to his chest. "I have a present for you."
"A present?" Instantly her face lit up.
"Yeah, here. Former Japanese tennis players wrote them all. Enjoy."
"Oh. Books." She deadpanned.
Inner Taro: That girl really knows how to crush a guy's heart, neh?
'Well, that's the old, insensitive Kin-chan I know.'
"Arigatou. I'll put them to good use, don't worry," she flashed a smile as she dumped them in her backpack.
Inner Kin: You're such a bad liar.
'Neh, you be quiet.'
"Well, Taro-chan, since you're here, how about you help me train?"
---At Night---
'Well, I can either do my math homework now and get it over with or watch a movie. It's a new release that I borrowed from Taro-chan and I've been itching to watch it. Hmm, how about you choose a number: one or two?'
Inner Kin: Two.
'...Curse you.'
Inner Kin: Seriously, Kin. I'm your conscience. Do you really think I'm that stupid?
'Well, I don't see you putting your superior intelligence to any good use.' Shutting out Inner Kin's response, she picked up the book from the floor to the opened page.
"My name is Ryosuke Nunoi, one of the few Japanese tennis players who had made a small but undeniable mark in the Grand Slams. As I write this book, there should be another genius tennis player next to me: Sato Jiro. However, since his reputation has gone ignominiously, I find it necessary to preserve his memory before his suicidal plunge down the Strait of Malacca."
Inner Kin: Sugoi. That guy jumped into the strait? And you thought you had problems.
"This biography is not only a tribute my undeniable best friend, but it includes a comprehensive gathering of information on his playing styles and techniques that may benefit the reader greatly. In this book I have poured out my self-guilt and heart to create something everlasting that may touch the hearts of the reader. Thank you."
'Something's not right here.' She flipped to the front. There were no copyright marks. In the back, there was a faded ink stain. 'No, that's not just an ink stain.' She made out a name in the messy blotch: Ryosuke Ninoi. It was his own signature, the only sign of authenticity. She gawked at the book in her hands. This must have been unpublished, perhaps even a diary.
'Where did Taro get this? Surely not that run-down bookstore?'
She immediately turned to selfish thoughts. This book may be a financial treasure. Before Inner Kin could chastise her avarice, she added, 'No, I'm not going to sell it, at least not before reading every word.'
The first few chapters were details on their personal lives as best friends and the rivalry they shared. She noticed how he had subtlely included hints that he revered, envied, and resented him all at once. Ninoi had often felt overshadowed by his friend's skill, but he never grew any lasting bitterness except for one fight, which they both made up with no regrets. Instead, they became doubles partners and they were runner-ups at Wimbledon.
'Maybe I should play doubles with onii-chan sometime. That'd be interesting, neh?'
Inner Kin: Interesting? I doubt Kuni-niichan would let you touch the ball.
'Ah, I suppose so. Especially with that annoying Tezuka Zone of his.'
She continued reading, and soon enough drool and tears were falling off her face in a waterfall. Ninoi had clearly poured all of his frustration into writing the bitter words on the page. He explained how Japan's enormous pressure forced Jiro to jump after making it to the semifinals, and explained how the publicity was actually not true. The jump not suicide- it was accidental manslaughter by Ryosuke.
The clock chimed midnight before she finally climbed into bed, overwhelmed and eternally touched by the almost magical confessions.
Inner Kin: The book would have been a lot more enjoyable if you actually knew more traditional kanji.
'You just had to ruin the moment, huh?'
Inner Kin: Have you decided what to do with it yet? You're not going to let it rot on your table your entire life, are you?
'Why not? It's inspirational. It's mine too.'
Inner Kin: The shallowness of your mind amazes me. Or stupidity. I can't tell which. Both, probably.
Ignoring the blunt insult thrown at her, she closed her eyes and wished that her conscience would stop pestering her.
'Besides, what happened to him anyway?'
---The Next Day---
Kin cursed. Loudly. This brought annoyed glances from the people next to her in the library, but she couldn't care less.
"The dude shot him himself in Birma at the end of World War II?!" she read from the article. She couldn't believe her eyes. Both of them were suicidal? "He had a wife and a kid for goodness' sakes!"
"Suminasen. Can you please keep it down?" the librarian approached her with intimidating eyes.
"Gomenasai. Do you have any books about the history of Japanese tennis players?"
"No, I don't believe so. Would you like me to check?"
"No, that's all right. Sorry for that again," she took a deep breath, shaken. She imagined Ninoi's handsome face and well-toned body. Then she imagined him driven to suicide with his body covered in bullets.
'Not pleasant.'
Inner Kin: Taro really ought to look at what he buys before they become his heartfelt present.
---At the Tennis Courts---
She was disappointed to find that only the beginning focused on his biographies. The second portion was a record of all his games and personal notes for each one. She skipped over them easily until she came the last section that contained an extraordinarily detailed description of both their playing styles and techniques.
"Sato Jiro was a master of control. He specialized in precision tennis- he could calculate the exact angle and the perfect spin in a split second. His shots were alarmingly accurate that the referee is often mistaken. However, his precision and usually cannot last throughout five sets, so he often makes mistakes from exhaustion."
The first section was about spins. Sato was a spin meister; he used combinations of sidespins, topspins, backspins and slices in relative ease to throw off the opponent and keep them guessing.
Kin decided to experiment with his theories a bit and picked up a racket and ball. She began hitting easy forehands consecutively, hitting a dark spot on the wall repeatedly. Then, applying the mechanics she just learned, she hit a topspin with otherwise the same speed and power and it struck the dark spot about two centimeters lower and returned to her knees. 'Well, it's only about two centimeters, but that's the difference between missing the sweet spot, and the border between one point or no point, one game or no game, one match or no match.'
She experimented by varying topspins and backspins consecutively. She found slices useful- they slid low, so it was useful in tricking the opponent. However, she was absolutely delighted by sidespins, which made the ball tilt in another direction. Positively ebullient by her discovery, she repeatedly hit them, analyzing how they tilted after they bounced.
'This is amazing! I can control the direction of the ball after it bounces.' She jumped and screamed in ebullience, giving eye spasms to the people eyeing her.
Inner Kin: Can you please stop that? You're embarrassing me.
'Come on, don't be like that. Just think about it. In a game, I could control the spin of the ball absolutely, I could catch my opponent off-guard all the time!'
Giggling, she spun around until she collapsed in a heap.
Inner Kin: My goodness, this girl, I'll never understand her. Hm? The chapter's not over yet. If there's such useful stuff like this, who knows what's in the rest of the book?
'Ah, you're right.' She flipped the next page, her eyes squinting.
"NANI?! Look at all the exercises! He's insane," she exclaimed, reading, "Ah? Do 50 push-ups in a tub full of ice? Where am I supposed to get the tub of ice?"
Inner Kin: ...her Japanese really needs more help...
---Author's Note---
Arrgh... all right, the ending wasn't what I expected, but I've just got to say that Sato Jiro and Ryosuke Nunoi are real people. Sato did jump into the Strait of Malacca and Nunoi did shoot himself at the end of WWII. I don't know if they had families... I couldn't find that.
I don't know what school they should play next... I'm going to have to invent stuff from now on...