Chapter Seven

Fuji

She left me there, alone on the street in the rays of the setting sun.

She had called me a coward.

She had called me weak.

She had said I was pathetic.

Was I? I asked myself. All I had done was try to keep things to myself, keep that agony and undying fear that I would never walk again, all inside me. Because I could almost see people's reactions if I let on how I was feeling. The worrying, the pity... It was the pity that I would despise most, how people would try to help me out with everything. It would extinguish my already slim hopes of ever getting better. All I had done was try to keep myself alive, so that I wouldn't die of depression.

Then why did I get this feeling that she was right? I had tried to put a brave face on things. Didn't that make me strong? I hadn't killed myself or anything. Didn't that make me strong? I had tried to comfort my family by hiding my own terror. So I was brave...right?

I trusted my reasoning, but I trusted my gut more. And my gut was telling me that she was right. Never in my whole life had anyone told me that I was weak. No one.

What had I done to make me a coward? Nothing. But maybe that was the problem. That I had done nothing. Nothing to make me weak...and nothing to make me strong. It was more about what I hadn't done.

My mother was at the door to greet me when I arrived. "Syusuke! How are you feeling? Was school ok?"

I could've said yes. I could have told her everything was fine, and that would've been the end of the questions.

"Mom, I think I need to go to the hospital again."

Her eyes widened in fear and she gasped. "What happened, Syusuke? Where does it hurt?"

"I'm fine, mom," I reassured her. "I'm just thinking about getting crutches."

She heard this and looked at me worriedly. "But Syusuke...you remember what the doctor said...he doesn't know..."

"And if I stay in this wheelchair he definitely won't know," I explained gently.

In the end she had to give in. I took a trip to the hospital, ditched the wheelchair and exchanged them for a pair of crutches. Feeling much better, I hobbled my way home.

I would prove Tezumi wrong.

The next day I got up at the crack of dawn to prepare for school. It was very trying at first, having to limp along for five minute before I could get to the bathroom. It was still ridiculously early when I stepped out the door and headed towards Seigaku.

The trip was longer than I had anticipated. I had never appreciated just how far away the school was. My hands and arms were aching from always having to support the full weight of my body and the heavy bag I had didn't help.

Now that I could more or less walk, I couldn't expect to be allowed to use the lift normally meant for teachers anymore. The terrifying alternative was the stairs. All three floors of them. I was already very tired, but what choice did I have? I sighed and started my excruciatingly slow climb.

Surely I should've bumped into Tezuka or someone by now, I thought, raising my crutches yet again. Students were streaming around me, rushing onwards to their various classes. I could hardly believe that I had once been part of that happy, chattering crowd.

Fortunately, years of tennis training had strengthened my arms. But they still shook on my way to the second floor. I glimpsed some of my classmates passing by. No one stopped to help or even say hello. It was like I no longer existed.

"Fuji."

I couldn't even turn around to see who was calling me. A few seconds later, Tezumi skipped lightly onto the stair I was standing on. She was smiling.

"I see you're out of your wheelchair."

"I was afraid that if I stayed in it...I'd never get up again." There was no point in covering things up; the girl seemed to see right through me.

"You're already halfway there. Come on!" she encouraged me.

So I continued my methodical, halting steps, beads of sweat forming on my forehead. "It's nearly time for the bell," I told her, noticing the hall clock. "Go on, you'll be late."

"So will you."

"Yes, but you don't have to."

"Save your breath and walk," she commanded.

Silently, we went on as the crowd thinned. Only one more floor to go. Without knowing it, I groaned at the thought.

Quite loudly too, because Tezumi looked at me and said, "Give me your bag."

"Bad idea, Tezumi," I panted. "It's kind of heavy—"

"Just give it to me." She reminded me of Tezuka. Not being used to being ordered around by anyone but him, I was so shocked, I could only hand it over.

Without its weight, my movements quickened and my breathing eased, so that we actually made it on time.

When we reached our class, I expected Tezumi to take her usual place in the back. But instead, she pulled out a seat for me in the front, which I collapsed into gratefully, and sat down nearby. I guess I must have really looked exhausted, because she took one look at me and shook her head, pulling out my books from my bag for me and laid my crutches down on the floor for me.

I surveyed her silently once she had looked away.

For all that she had said to me, she wasn't all that bad at heart.