You stand across the net, facing Oshitari Yuushi. Your team mate, your lover, your best friend. And as of now, your opponent. And you can't, you just can't do it. For the first time, (well, maybe not the first) you are unable to look him in the eyes as you mutter the one phrase you have never said, having always abhorred and scorned those who did, "I forfeit."
And then you close your eyes waiting for the explosion. It comes as the court becomes eerily silent.
"Keigo, what the fuck are you talking about?" Oshitari is outraged, and you expected no less.
It's strange to hear Oshitari curse, and you focus on that novelty rather than responding.
"I'm sorry, Yuushi. I…can't." And you walk away, leaving tennis and the one person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with behind.
You can feel the accusing stares, the stunned glances. But you keep your posture straight. You are Atobe Keigo and no one sees you cry. Ever. When you get to the locker room, you sit down on the bench staring at your shoes. You wait for the tears to come and are upset when they don't. You slip your tennis racket into your back with the other two and decide not to change. You're too tired. You don't expect Oshitari to forgive you. It's been a dream the two of you share since your middle school days at Hyoutei. You were to make it to the US Open and face each other. Then, you would see who was truly the best. The buchou or the tensai. But that couldn't happen now. He'll understand, one day.
You bite your lower lip and wonder how your team will respond. You wonder what school will be like, now, with your ex-best friend.
High school is almost over. This is your last year. It will soon be time for college. And then the real world. So where does tennis fit in? You don't know. You may never see Oshitari again. The thought panics you and makes your heart hurt and your stomach clench painfully.
You'll be eighteen in a few months. So why does it feel like your life is already over?