Sometimes he stayed late so he could give someone private help, or simply talk to them, if they needed him, as they so often seemed to. They trusted him with their problems, although he wasn’t exactly their friend. He was too aware of the fact that they all held him in awe to imagine that he was their friend, but sometimes people didn’t need friends, they needed a higher authority, someone who they respected, perhaps even idolized, but also trusted, implicitly, to tell them what to do, or offer advice, when they couldn’t go to their friends or family. His team, he had thought, would tell him everything. He certainly knew they were willing to sacrifice anything for him, much to his frequent despair. However, there were apparently some things the team wouldn’t come to him about, or even bring to his attention. It was ridiculous to think that they had been hiding it from him, of course, but going into the locker room rather late and finding . . .
Today he was leaving quite late, the sky was already changing colours and darkening, because after they had left, red-faced and apologetic after trying to explain the situation, he had sat on a bench, half-dressed, and rolled the situation over and over in his mind, not liking how he saw it from any angle.
When he left the locker room and walked past the empty tennis courts, his bag slung over one shoulder, she was waiting for him, leaning against the building and staring at the sky, her own bag resting near her feet. A part of him had hoped, if he sat in the locker room thinking long enough, she would leave without him.
“I thought you might be going to the street courts today,” he said as he approached.
She turned her head and smiled up at him. “Not today. I have a lot of homework. Besides, I thought it would be nice to walk home together again. You’ve been so busy lately we never seem to walk together anymore. You always come early in the morning, and you always leave late . . .”
“For the team.”
“Mm!” she nodded firmly while she bent down, picking her bag up and slinging it over her shoulder. When she straightened, she smiled up at him again, and patted his head playfully, “I know that!”
He raised one eyebrow at the head patting and slowly started walking again so she could keep up with him. “If you have homework, you should have gone straight home to work on it. Or went to the library and studied.”
“Probably,” she agreed, completely unconcerned with this logic.
“You could have at least done some of it while you were waiting,” he chided her absently, his mind somewhere else.
“I meant to, but the clouds were so interesting, and the sky started changing colours . . .” she trailed off, smiling softly while he looked down at her, both eyebrows raised in vague surprise. “It was pretty. That’s all.”
“Aa.”
The two walked in silence for several minutes, he thinking about what he had seen, wondering how to bring it up, she blissfully unaware of what was troubling him, just happy to be in his company.
When they were out of sight of the school, he finally broke the silence. “Do you like Kamio?”
She blinked at this odd non sequitur, then laughed. “Of course!”
“Aa . . .”
“I like everyone on the team,” she continued, linking her hands behind her head and smiling up at the sky. “They’re wonderful. They care so much about tennis, I’ve never seen a group who love it as much they do. It’s inspiring, really. That spirit, that love, it’s going to get you all to Nationals, even though some teams have bigger clubs, or richer schools . . . They’ll get there anyway, and beat them all, because they care about tennis for tennis, and they care about winning for you. No other team in the country has that kind of spirit.”
He nodded slowly. They all gave everything they had to the team. “And Kamio?”
“He’s sweet. They all are, of course. When we transferred here, and after all that mess . . .” she frowned slightly, remembering the scandal of the previous year, then shrugged the memory off. “After you became captain, maybe even before that, it was like I suddenly acquired six new brothers, all of them very overprotective of ‘Tachibana’s little sister’. Kamio-kun’s the one who worries the most, though, I think. More than you, even,” she teased.
He smiled faintly, “I know you can take care of yourself.”
“Obviously this neglectful attitude is why Kamio-kun and the others feel the need to make up for the great gaps in your role as big brother,” she said with too much seriousness in her voice before the act broke and she laughed.
He snorted. “I think you’re avoiding the question.”
“What question?” she asked innocently.
“Do you like Kamio?”
“I already said – ”
“As more than a friend, Ann.”
“Oniichan!”
“Don’t give me that ‘Oo, I’m so embarrassed, my big brother is asking me about my romantic life’ garbage, Ann. I know you’re smarter than that.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Maybe a little. He’s very sweet, and a wonderful tennis player, but he seems to shy to do anything, and always gets distracted by other things when we spend time together. Besides, I’m only thirteen. I don’t think you have to worry about me falling passionately in love with anyone for at least another year, oniichan.”
He looked down at her, disbelief evident on his face, then asked, rather uncertainly for him, “Would you be upset if you knew Kamio liked someone else?”
Slowly, she lowered her hands from behind her head, and looped one arm with his. “Someone on the team?” she asked quietly.
He nodded.
There were several minutes of silence as they walked, their pacing slowing to a snail’s crawl, before she asked: “Will it interfere with Kamio-kun’s game at all?”
He had given this question serious thought himself once he was alone in the locker room, and shook his head. “I don’t think so. It might even improve his doubles play.”
“That’s good. We aren’t very strong in doubles. If we ever play against a team with weak points in singles, he and Shinji-kun can play in the doubles one spot, and you can handle singles two or three.”
“Shinji . . .”
“Lucky guess,” she said, tapping his nose with one finger and smiling. “They’re always together, and they are one of the better doubles combinations we have.”
“You aren’t upset?”
“Mm,” she shook her head, “of course not. Not if it’s going to be good for the team and brings us closer to Nationals.”
“Aa,” he said, some of the tension draining from his shoulders and a smile touching his lips and lighting his eyes up once more. “Of course. For Nationals,” he agreed, and pulled her close as they walked the rest of the way home.