Second to None

27. anniversary

Still simmering with rage the next day, Mayu headed into the office an hour early and immediately changed into her exercise gears. Instead of taking her standard jogging route, she headed for the tennis cages in the east wing and signed out a spare racket.

Marching into the first cage she laid her eyes on, she set the tennis ball launcher on high speed and took position at baseline. As soon as the firing started, she started hitting each ball blindly. 

She focused on each oncoming shot. She'd watched enough professional matches that each of her returns felt instinctive, ingrained within her. Gone were the fluorescent lights, the white walls, the dome-shaped ceiling and even her frantic breaths. The more she hit, the more she felt as if the top of her head was about to fall off. Only when the machine whirred down did she return to realize that her arms were sore and her hand ached from gripping the racket too tightly.

After shaking out her fingers, Mayu walked across the court to reset the gun. From this vantage point, she saw Ryoma standing outside the cage, his eyes on her and his lips upturned. Even though embarrassment flooded her mind, she refused to let it show. Walking to the side bench, she picked up her water bottle and took a long, satisfying swig.

By the time she finished drinking, Ryoma had already walked inside.

"I thought you didn't play tennis," he said.

"I thought I didn't, too," she said, capping her water bottle. "Looks like I do."

"Good thing you decided to try. You're a natural."

"Thanks."

Scrutinizing her screwed-up face, he asked, "Something on your mind?"

She looked at him and thought that her life would be made much easier if he didn't show up here—never showed up in her life, in fact. Out loud, she said, "No. I just felt like playing today."

"How about a match, then?" he offered. "There are courts down the hall."

"I'm no match for you, I'm sure."

"You didn't think I'd go all out on you, did you? That'd be cruel."

"No thanks. I'd really like to be alone."

"But there are a few moves you're doing wrong. Keep playing this way and you'll get injured."

"That's fine," she snapped. Tucking her racket under her arm, she said, "I know you're a top-tier athlete and you can't help but to criticize amateurs when you see them. I also know plenty of people would love having you coach them. But I'd like to play on my own terms."

***

As if he hadn't heard her, Ryoma made a point to stop by the tennis cage every morning to give Mayu advice, whether she liked it or not. He didn't seem to mind that she only gave yes/no answers. According to him, her form was solid—ostensibly from years of watching tennis matches—but her speed and reflex were abysmal. She had to run longer distances and more often to build up stamina.

Mayu responded with silence but took his advice. She figured he wouldn't find her if she stayed away from the tennis cage. Instead of jogging around the association building, she started taking the trails in the Meiji Jingu garden, through muggy July mornings and cool summer cloudbursts. 

When there was no Ryoma after two days passed, Mayu was relieved to reclaim her alone time. As she thought this, however, he intercepted her on day three.

"How long are you running these days?" he asked, keeping up with her pace with ease. "Five kilometres?"

She was astonished by his audacity. "Are you following me?"