Youthful Days (Book 1)

30. Double Apology

After their victory, nobody from Seigaku could reach Tezuka.

When even Oishi's call went nowhere, Fuji knew Tezuka was likely at his favorite hiding spot. After a half-hearted celebration dinner at Kawamura's family restaurant, Fuji caught a westbound train to Shibuya.

A smattering of stars crested over the western sky when he found Tezuka at the tennis cages. Standing amid a forest of players swinging their racket to the rhythm of the tennis gun, he wore a collared shirt buttoned to the top. He had his injured arm stuck in one pocket while the other jutted forward awkwardly, as if he was reaching for something in midair.

When Fuji was within earshot, Tezuka suddenly turned around. "I thought you'd come."

"And I thought you were supposed to rest after getting checked up at the hospital," retorted Fuji.

"I finished with the doctor not long ago. I made a stop here since it's on the way home."

"Everyone tried to call you, but it seems you had your phone off. I thought I'd come to tell you we won. Echizen beat Hiyoshi at 6-4."

Relief washed over Tezuka's taut expressions. "As expected for Echizen to carry the team forward—"

"Echizen can carry the team forward without you giving up an arm," Fuji snapped. "We have reserve players for a reason, so why didn't you just forfeit the game with Atobe?"

Tezuka didn't answer.

"Didn't you know he intended to break your shoulder?"

"I did. Right from the start."

"So why did you go on to play a game that could've permanently ended tennis for you?!"

Tezuka squared his shoulders. "Fuji, I understand you are furious with me—"

"I'm beyond furious, Tezuka," Fuji cut him off. "I was furious two years ago when you let me win 6-0 with a defective elbow and lied about it. I could forgive you back then because we were new friends and I didn't expect you to tell me everything. But two years later, you tell the same lie all over again."

Fingers scrunched into a fist, Fuji's eyes were burning, "Tezuka Kunimitsu, do you see me as a friend at all?"

"Fuji. You've always been my friend."

"Then you'd rather tell Ayuna the truth instead of a 'friend'? Tezuka, you lied to the entire team, including our coach. How do you think everyone felt when they watched you collapse on the court? Do you honestly think you did Seigaku a favor?"

Tezuka was speechless from the slew of accusations. After a minute, he said solemnly, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I had my reasons."

"Now would be the time to say it all."

"I didn't want anyone to make me quit before Seigaku became the national champion. I've made up my mind about bringing the team to the finish line. Injury or otherwise." Pausing here, he continued firmly, "However angry you and the rest of the team are, don't blame Hanamachi-san. The injury to my arm wasn't her fault, neither was the exacerbation of it. It was my responsibility entirely. She only did what she could."

Fuji weighed his friend's words for a long moment. A part of him still brimmed with fury from his deception and righteous stubbornness. But as always, Fuji had no rebuttal for his friend: he was all faultless reason and logic.

As the last round of tennis balls was fired, Fuji turned his back. "I'm not ready to forgive you yet."

"That's fine," rose Tezuka's steady reply. "Just forgive Hanamachi-san for having done her best."