Your role in the tennis team slows down – both because the season is over and because you cannot participate in the off-season training. You've had to miss quite a few practices that first week because of PT, so it isn't until the second week that you finally have a day you can join. You are struggling to change into your uniform and fumbling with the bulky cast you have.

You hear some of the whispers in the team room about your recent loss against Rokkaku.

"That's her," you hear one of the freshmen say. "She's the one who lost."

"So we didn't qualify for Nationals, right?" the other young girl asks.

"No, only the top four go," the first one whispers back. "It's her fault."

"Hey," you whirl around and the two girls freeze, clearly not realizing you could hear them. "You think we lost our spot at Nationals this year because of me?" You take a hobble towards them, and they back up further towards their lockers. "No, let me tell you why we lost our Nationals spot."

All can feel is the red-hot anger and frustration coursing through you from these last few weeks, pent up from the injury. You know there are multiple other people in the clubhouse, but you can't find it in you to care.

"We lost because our D2 team keeps leaving their cross-court coverage open, and they never attack aggressively enough at the net. Our D1 team can't cover their own backhand volley territory long enough to keep a game. Our S3 spot keeps getting rotated through Tanaka and Fujima, neither of whom has had a consistent season. S2 hasn't been able to capitalize enough on approaching the net and also cannot defend the deep backhand," you're on a rant and can't stop. "So you think I lost us our Nationals spot? Look around."

The entire clubhouse is dead silent.

"Michi," you turn and see your captain standing there, arms crossed. "You're angry. Take a walk."

You glare. "Tell me what I said wasn't true."

She frowns at you and you know you should stop. You've definitely crossed a line a long time ago. Instead, she steps towards you. "Take a walk," she repeats. "Come back tomorrow after you're ready to apologize."

"No," you shove your uniform at her. "I'll do you one better. I quit."

You hobble over to your crutches, grab your bag, and march out.

You don't end up making it very far, between the overwhelming emotions and the crutches, and end up stumbling to a bench at a park near Seigaku. You collapse on the bench and let your stuff scatter around you. You'd deal with it later.

You just take a second and let yourself cry. It's a mixture of angry, frustrated tears but also all the fear you have for your uncertain future in tennis. It takes a good couple minutes before you calm down enough to curl your knees back onto the bench and try to shrink down as small as you can.

You hear some shuffling near you and glance up to see Tezuka, of all people, standing near the end of your bench. You wrap your arms around your knees and try to shrink even further – he probably saw all that. He is watching you carefully but doesn't make a move towards you.

"What do you want?" you ask him.

He sighs and glances at the end of your bench. Deciding you have nothing to lose at this point anyways, you nod your head slightly and he sits at the edge.

He's silent for a moment as the two of you stare at the grass in front of you, neither making eye contact.

"I know how it feels," he tells you quietly.

You don't expect him to say that, and your head swivels towards him.

"A year ago, my elbow was injured," he continues, still looking forward. "I couldn't play tennis for the rest of last year," he glances at you. "It was … difficult."

You turn forwards again so you don't need to look at him. "I don't want your pity," you tell him. "And I don't want a speech about playing this season on an injured ankle."

"I'm not offering you pity or a speech," he tells you calmly. "You're angry and you're scared. I'm telling you that's normal."

You swallow but there is still a lump in your throat. You turn away.

Tezuka sighs. "That's all I wanted to say," he stands up.

You peek back at him. "Does it get better?" you ask him quietly.

He stays still for a moment and you start to wonder if he even heard you. "I'm not sure," he finally answers. He gives you one more hard look before leaving.

You do end up going back the next day to apologize. You find your captain and vice-captain during lunch and bow.

"I'm sorry for what I said," you tell them both.

Your vice-captain, ever the gentle soul, gives you a small smile. 'That's okay," she shakes her head. "We knew you angry – that's understandable."

"I shouldn't have lashed out at the team like that," you wince.

Your captain sighs. "You're right, Michi," she purses her lips. "But like Kaho said, we understand where you're coming from," she gestures for you to straighten and you do. "But," she continues. "You might want to apologize to the rest of the team for what you said."

You give her another bow. "I will."

"And Michi," you glance back at your captain. "We will always have a spot on this team for you, if you want it."

You give her a small smile. "Thank you."

You do end up apologizing to all the regulars on the team separately for your words. They're all understanding and kind about it, and it makes you feel even worse about your outburst. They ask about how PT is going and whether you'll be rejoining the team next year, which you don't really have the answer to yet. You do tentatively tell them you'll need to take the rest of the 6 weeks off for PT and won't be able to make the remaining off-season training session.

You are, however, intrigued by your recent conversation with Tezuka, and decide to use the upcoming weekend to watch the Seigaku-Hyotei match at Prefecturals.

It is a rough match. Oishi is playing doubles and it is a narrow loss to the other team. Tezuka comes in for S2 to defeat the standing Hyotei captain, but Seigaku ends up taking the overall loss in S1. Someone in the crowd murmurs that this means they will need to play Rokkaku next weekend for the final spot for Regionals.

You see Oishi and Tezuka, along with the remainder of Seigaku's tennis team, gather around their captain and coach. After a brief meeting, they all disperse, and Tezuka and Oishi end up heading in your direction.

Oishi actually spots you first. "Michi!" he greets enthusiastically and waves.

You wince a little at his excitement but also give him a polite wave back. It doesn't deter him at all and he ends up dragging Tezuka to you.

"Wow, we didn't expect you to come to our games!" he pauses. "Sorry it wasn't a better one though."

You shake your head. "You guys both played well," you tell them.

"Thanks," Oishi gives you a bashful smile and Tezuka nods in acknowledgement. "How is your ankle?"

You sigh. "I have three more weeks of PT and more imaging after, but the doctors might be able to give me a better answer after."

Oishi nods sympathetically. "I hope you feel better soon. Do you need help getting home?"

You shake your head. "I'm fine. I'll be going then," you give him both a small polite bow and leave.

You finally finish six weeks of PT and immediately make your way the next day to the doctor's office for your imaging results. Your nose scrunches at the smell of cleaning solution in the office – it reminds you too much of your time spent here last year – as you wait for the doctor to see you.

The doctor does eventually come in. You only really need one look at her face to know what she's about to tell you. She sees the look of devastation in your face and sighs.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, sitting down in front of you. "The good news is we can take the cast off today, but tennis is off the table."

You swallow. The room feels like its ringing. "For how long?" you ask, voice wavering.

She sighs again. "We talked about this last time, Michi. You can't keep playing on this ankle. You're going to lose your tennis permanently."

"Can I play next year?" you ask quietly.

She purses her lips. "Not at full strength. Not the way you used to."

You furrow your eyebrows. "What if I continued with PT for the rest of this year? I'm done with the season – I'll go to all my sessions and we can take another look before I start next year?"

She shakes her head. "You're not hearing me, Michi. Between the surgery last year and this most recent one, I wouldn't recommend you ever playing tennis at the semi-professional level. Your ankle is tenuous at best after these injuries – I'm not sure what a third one would mean for you."

You feel your heart drop and your gaze dips to focus on your hands, fists so tight you're sure your fingernails are digging into your skin.

"You can still play casually," she tries to tell you. "In fact, you can probably start some light exercise soon."

You don't react to her statement and she sighs.

"I'm sorry," the doctor reaches over and places a hand on your shoulder. "This isn't what you wanted to hear from me. I'll be here if you have any more questions."

She leaves the room and you start crying.

You make the decision to resign from the tennis team that following Monday. You privately tell your captain and vice captain the news – that you're not able to play tennis seriously anymore – but you're sure the rest of the team has surmised something similar.

"Are you sure you want to resign?" your vice-captain asks. "You can stay on the team – help with training and the like."

You shake your head. "I don't want to stay if it means I can't play."

Your captain sighs but she does accept your letter. "I understand," she tells you. "I'm sorry this is how the cards fell out. You were a hell of a tennis player, Michi."

You purse your lips and bow. "Thank you," you tell them both shortly and exit the team room.