Chapter Ten

Sachie

"Do you need more water? I could go get some for you," Fuji offered as I came out of the tennis courts on shaky legs after yet another day of practice.

"It's fine. I'll go get some now. Stay here and wait for me, ok?" It would've been mean to ask someone on crutches to refill my water bottle. Plus, I would've died of thirst before he got back.

I hurried off to the water fountain. Fuji, for some strange reason, liked to watch me practice after school. Why anyone would want to do that eludes me. I still sucked at tennis, whatever anyone said.

"Hello, Tezumi. Thirsty?" Shimoda Magisaki, our team's vice-captain, grinned at me.

"As thirsty as I could possibly get," I said easily, filling up my bottle.

She finished her drink, but didn't leave. "Say, Tezumi, you hang out with the boy regulars a lot, right?"

"Well, not really..."

"I saw you playing doubles with Echizen the other day."

I laughed just thinking about it. "Yeah, and I hit him on the head once while serving."

Saki, as she had asked us to call her, smirked in amusement. "Good one. But anyway, if you do hang out with them next time, mind if I tagged along?"

So that's what she wanted. Of course. She was a girl, after all. "Who're you after?" I smiled slyly.

"That's for me to know and you to find out. So is it ok with you?"

"Yeah, sure, you know, Fuji's around right now—"

"I know. I saw him nearby. But I mean the boy regulars of the tennis club. You know, Tezuka, Eiji?"

"Fuji knows them better that I do," I insisted. "And once he gets better he'll rejoin the team—"

"Please," Saki sniggered, not sinister, but definitely not nice either. "If he gets better and I mean the regulars now. Fuji's not even that close with them. From what I can see nowadays, they don't really hang out—"

"They do, but you're just not around to see," I cut in coolly.

"And you are?"

"I'm around Fuji a lot."

"Oh, right," scoffed Saki. "Well I guess I've come to the wrong person, since you only know ex-regulars."

"Fuji will make the team again once he can walk."

Her scorn was very provoking.

"Sure," she all but sneered. "But for now I just want to meet the regulars who can go places without crutches. The sort that can refill your water bottle for you when you're dead tired. Besides, Fuji looks like he'll be in those crutches for some time—"

"But eventually he will be out of them," I countered. "I guess you'll go back to worshipping him, just like all those other fan girls who stopped acknowledging his existence when he got injured!"

"I'm not interested in helpless birds that can't fly," Saki said dismissively. "Or tensais that can't walk."

Why did she have to drill on the point? Seething, I retaliated as viciously as I could without getting dragged to the office for bad language. "Yeah, that's right. I'm stuck with the bird with the broken wing. You know what? That's more than you'll ever be able to say for yourself, because the birds that can fly will never come near you!"

Apparently I had touched a nerve. "Oh? Well, I've always wondered why anyone would come near you, with that disgusting face of yours."

Um, excuse me, but what does any of this have to do with how I look?

"But it doesn't matter, does it?" she hissed maliciously. "You're content to have your broken winged bird. But a piece of advice: no self-respecting girl kisses trash."

That was the last straw. I rushed away from her hated presence, water bottle clutched in my hand, before I did anything drastic.

How could one accident make you go from hero to less than zero?

Fuji was still waiting for me where I'd left him.

"Tezumi, feeling better now? Tezumi—your water bottle—you're crushing it—Tezumi? Tezumi!" He nearly fell over himself trying to catch up with me.

"Tezumi, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said through clenched teeth, tossing my crumpled bottle away.

"...and it's on a desert island, so you won't be disturbed. Make sure you take advantage of this..." Coach Ryuzaki was saying, but I paid no attention.

"Tezumi!" Fuji called out in a strangled voice. I turned around to see him lagging ten feet behind me and very out of breath. Breathing in deeply, I doubled back and we walked on side by side.

"Fuji?"

"Yes?"

"You'll get better, won't you?

"Yes."

"You'll get better and rejoin the team?"

"Yes."

I wished I could have some of his quiet confidence.

"Good," I said firmly. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

He looked at me and smiled; a comforting smile which almost made me believe that everything would be ok. I loved that smile.

Isn't it ironic, how I was the one who needed comforting? I studied him, him standing there in the evening breeze, as tall and straight as ever. He had known what he was talking about, I was sure of it.

Slowly, very slowly, my own lips curled upwards.