Beyond: A Tribute (PG-13, Part 3: An Epoch in Yanagi Renji's Life)
© 2006 Gold
Title: Beyond: A Tribute
Part 3: An Epoch in Yanagi Renji’s Life
Author: Gold
Pairing Warning: The Golden Pair and Platinum Pair are mentioned in passing. Three characters also categorically dismiss the possibility of some pairings. You are, of course, most welcome to disagree with whatever views have been put forth. To each his or her own. J
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis is created by Konomi Takeshi. This work is a piece of fanfiction and no part of it is attributed to Konomi-san or any other entity holding any legal right associated with and arising out of Prince of Tennis . It was written purely out of fanservice and it is not to be used for profit or any false association with Konomi-san or aforesaid entities.
Warning: Umm. Fangirl Japanese?
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Part 3: An Epoch in Yanagi Renji’s Life
Special note of appreciation and thanks from editor Osakada Tomoka: I am honoured and grateful to Inui Sadaharu and Yanagi Renji for extending to us their kind permission to allow parts of their private records to be used in the writing of part of this chapter in order to tell a more complete story.
Special note to readers from Inui Sadaharu and Yanagi Renji: Last Christmas, Osakada-san came to see us and explained that she wished to put together a book that would tell the truth behind the events that rocked the tennis world in Japan and the world last July and August. We were naturally pleased and honoured to be able to assist. The extracts you will see have not been amended or edited in any way. Happy reading.
It was high noon on Thursday in Tokyo and the café was dreadfully crowded. There were groups of junior high school boys playing truant, the wayward ones who haunted the lesser-known parts of Harajuku, poorly-lit billiard salons and pachinko parlours with their over-oiled, badly-dyed hair-dos and gesticulations of false bravado. They sat and talked loudly, and cast furtive glances at the senior high school girls, the wild ones with tight blouses and bursting buttons, and skirts hiked up well above their knees, their lips glossed in nude shades and their eyes edged with fake lashes thickened with real black mascara. Sometimes there were high school boys with them, the bad boys with shirts unbuttoned and heavy chains of stainless steel collared around their necks, emphasising the sharpness of their collarbones, their long legs straddling the chairs, or stretched out nonchalantly to trip the next person. Then there were the tables occupied by clusters of young women in identical office outfits, gossiping softly over their sandwiches and coffee, and the lonely male office workers in dark, ill-fitting suits and plain ties, each occupying a single table, dark heads bent over their cheap lunches and hot mugs of green tea or coffee steaming into their faces as they ate their slender meals.
Yanagi Renji stepped into the café, and promptly treaded heavily on the extended foot of a lanky high school boy lounging lazily with an arm looped around the shoulders of a high school girl with an irritating giggle. The boy gave a shout of mixed pain and rage as Yanagi’s heavy foot connected, and lunged for Yanagi’s collar-
There was a thud as the boy hit the floor and the girls nearby gave little screams.
It was a strange face from the past which had, from all appearances, popped out of the woodwork about five seconds ago and roughly shoved the high school boy to the ground. Gone was the wild hair dyed white, but there was no mistaking the unnaturally pale skin, cold amber eyes and the thin blade of a mouth that seemed perpetually set in a malevolent twist. Akutsu Jin gave Yanagi a brief, expressionless glance, and then ignored him completely, turning instead to sweep cold eyes over the table of young troublemakers, who had suddenly gone quiet. The entire café seemed to have frozen into silence and the high school boy who had tried to trip up Yanagi immediately began to scramble hastily away, the seat of his trousers polishing the floor of the café as he went. That was a useless move, as far as the boy was concerned, because it took all of five seconds for Akutsu Jin to pick up the boy by the scruff of his neck and then throw him out bodily. Yanagi thought he might have heard the cracking of bones as the boy hit the pavement outside.
On any other day, in any other world, Yanagi Renji might have considered calling an ambulance, as was the duty of a good citizen of Japan. And Yanagi Renji, after all, was a really good citizen of Japan. But-
“Yo.”
Under the dim lights, beyond the shadows of the strangers in the café, were familiar faces and figures emerging from the corridors of the past.
There were crisp, grass-green jackets with yellow piping and the words Yamabuki lettered across the back; hardy-looking navy-blue jackets, with stripes of deep pink and white, with Fudomine on the left breast; classic jackets of white and puppy-brown with the crest of St. Rudolph’s Gakuen; cobalt blue jackets slashed with narrow red and white piping at collar, cuffs and jacket edges, with the words Seigaku Tennis Club writ all over; plain red-brown and black jackets with Rokkaku dancing across the cloth; designer jackets (professional dry-clean only) of dazzling white, with fashionable bands of grey and black, and Hyotei Gakuen embossed in shimmering threads of black velvet and silver satin; and, of course, mustard-yellow jackets with narrow bands of black and white, stitched with the proud flash of red that was the school crest of Rikkaidai.
The pages of history were flipping backwards faster than Yanagi could track them, and all at once the mountain that had been crushing his shoulders for the last eight hours or so somehow appeared rather lighter than he had originally perceived it to be-perhaps because he now knew that there were other willing shoulders around to help support it. The colour of mustard had never been so warm and comforting before.
“Yanagi, it’s good to see you again.” Jackal Kuwahara was, as always, the steadiest of the lot, and that shaven pate of his was like a sight of home.
“Yo, Yanagi. Hiroshi says to tell you he’s on his way back and will reach Tokyo tonight.” Niou Masaharu’s hair was dyed a brilliant electric blue that clashed so badly with the mustard-yellow of Rikkaidai that Yanagi’s eyes hurt to look at him. He was also dripping leaves, mud and the occasional twig, and looked as if he had just walked out from a nearby forest. He certainly smelt like it.
“*pop* I came fast as I could.” Marui Bunta peered over his oversized sunglasses and anxiously blew a gummy bubble large enough to hide his face. “Actually I wanted to come earlier, but I overslept…” He shrugged briefly. “I don’t know what’s going on, but let’s do something about this.”
Let’s do something about this.
There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd of jackets.
“Fudomine’s here to help.”
“Hai, Tachibana-san.”
“We must stand together in this time of need.”
“Hai, Tachibana-san.”
“Huh, Hyoutei got there first. Atobe’s already there!”
“Shut up, Gakuto.”
“Shut up yourself, Shishido!”
“Gakuto, Shishido. There’s no need to argue over this-”
“Yuushi, why do you always take his side?! Is this because Shishido’s brother is dating your sister?!”
“Gakuto, that’s not it-”
“Yamabuki at your service. Akutsu’s with us, although he’s pretending to be cool by standing far away from us-and next to the dustbin. -Aaaaah, Akutsu, I’m joking, I’m joking!”
“Rokkaku’s glad to help if we can. Just let us know what we can do.”
“Why are we here? Why are we just standing here? Why are we not eating? Why are we-”
“Later, Itsuki.”
“... why later?”
“Of course, SeiRuu is always ready to help. I assure you, Yanagi-san, that we are ready, able and willing-”
“Hush, Mizuki-sempai.”
“Mizuki-san always talks too much, da ne.”
Fudomine was looking at Tachibana Kippei with glowing eyes, Hyoutei was arguing snottily amongst itself, SeiRuu was trying and failing to ignore their resident flamboyant ex-manager, Yamabuki’s bad boy was throttling his one-time vice-captain, Rokkaku was cheerfully watching the developing fracas, and Rikkaidai was mostly being indifferent (Jackal, Marui) or else egging everybody else on (Niou). There was something so distinctly sentimental about this scene that Yanagi considered detachedly for a moment if waterworks were, perhaps, in order.
“Renji.”
Inui Sadaharu’s voice was clear, low and preternaturally calm, as usual. He looked remarkably energised, despite the tell-tale smudges that looked very much like badly-applied kohl beneath those sharp green eyes.
“Sadaharu.” Yanagi stepped aside so that they could talk privately and out of earshot. “This... you arranged all this?”
Inui Sadaharu nodded quietly. “Aa. With some help from Oshitari-kun. Apparently Atobe-san called him at six this morning and gave some very specific instructions.”
“Atobe’s bringing back Seiichi, then,” said Yanagi flatly. He could read between the lines. He hated to be abrupt with Sadaharu, but he was in no mood to be truly relaxed. “What is Atobe planning? Did he have something to do with the school jackets as well?” Some of those high school jackets looked mighty dusty and faded, and they were really too tight. After all, they had been made for teenagers that had now grown into broad-shouldered young men.
Sadaharu laid a calming hand over Yanagi’s arm. “It’s all right, Renji. I believe the ex-captains had something to do with the jackets. To be honest, we called in only the ex-captains and vice-captains, but one thing led to another and... well, here we are. Everyone wanted to come.” Sadaharu’s face dimmed slightly. “Oishi sends his sincere apologies; he is away in Biei. I haven’t been able to locate him since Tuesday, but his sister told me this morning that she had received a message from him yesterday. He went to Hokkaido on Tuesday to see if he could assist with the search for Momoshiro. I finally got hold of him about an hour ago.”
Yanagi nodded his head briefly. “I see. Any news about Momoshiro?”
“Oishi will update me as we go along.” Sadaharu glanced around. “To get back to the present, Seigaku is somewhat under-represented today. Kawamura is away at one of his tests today, the one he needs in order to advance to the next level of becoming a professional sushi-chef, but he has promised to join us later tonight, wherever we might be. Kikumaru is on his way by Shinkansen.”
“He was in Biei as well?”
Sadaharu pushed his glasses up. “Well, no. Kikumaru is simply late, I think. It appears he and his girlfriend were with the Keio anime club on a trip to an anime convention in Osaka.”
“This is the girlfriend who famously proposed to him last weekend?” Yanagi knew that it was a private matter, but he couldn’t help asking, even though he should have been worrying about getting Seiichi and Genichirou back to Tokyo so that he could boil them both alive in that big vat of oil that he had lying around somewhere.
Sadaharu coughed lightly. “Yes, that’s the one.”
Everybody liked Kikumaru Eiji’s girlfriend and even Oishi sang her praises dutifully, despite the fact that Sadaharu had compiled a lot of data that seemed to show that the Golden Pair had a relationship that exhibited too many aspects that went way beyond best friendship...
“Is it just doubles pairs, or the water in Tokyo?” mused Yanagi aloud.
“Hyoutei and Seigaku have been particularly susceptible,” murmured Sadaharu. “On the other hand, Fudomine, SeiRuu and Yamabuki seem quite untouched.”
“Well,” said a new voice, “it just means that their doubles pairs aren’t quite as pretty as ours.” Fuji Syuusuke smiled up winningly at Yanagi.
This one had a tongue like Seiichi’s, Yanagi reminded himself. Forked on occasion, if you looked closely enough. It didn’t help, of course, that Fuji Syuusuke was absolutely correct. If you had a pretty enough doubles pair, you got gay. Rikkaidai had just one pair like that... and the true nature of their relationship hadn’t been settled yet. (Of their other doubles pair, Jackal was handsome, but so straight that you could cut yourself on his edges, and Marui, though pretty, was asexual to anything that was animate and had less than a cupful of sugar in it). This discussion could go on forever, Yanagi thought. It was a fascinating subject in itself-
“We could compile our data on it,” suggested Sadaharu, glasses glinting in happy anticipation.
“Should,” corrected Yanagi automatically, thinking hard. It would be an extremely enlightening study, and they might perhaps even discover something momentous-
Someone clapped him hard on the shoulder.
“Renji.” Jackal’s brow was furrowed. “You can do your… research… after this. Right now, I think we need to know what’s going on. Can we do anything about this? What is Seiichi’s condition? What happened yesterday? Can you tell us anything?”
The mountain resettled on Yanagi’s shoulders.
Yesterday. Yes, yesterday.
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July 28th, 2010, was a date that Yanagi Renji would remember for the rest of his life.
It had begun dramatically enough, with a strange nightmare in which he thought that he heard a familiar voice (Akaya?) call his name in desperate tones. But the owner of the voice was thousands of miles away; so a nightmare it remained, divorced from the reality of daylight, and Yanagi Renji turned over in his bed and went back to sleep peacefully.
At about half-past eleven that morning, Yanagi Renji deigned to wake from his slumbers, largely because he was utterly famished. It was a completely natural reaction. There was nobody in the house; his mother was out and his sister was nowhere to be found. Consequently, he could not find the coffee beans that he usually used to make coffee back at the hostel, and had to make do with an ordinary mug of instant coffee that looked and tasted like coloured water.
The news in morning papers proved to be somewhat dry and dusty. Yanagi stifled a yawn. Possibly it was because he was reading the news at a quarter to noon when he could have spent it more productively in the university library, beefing up the joint research paper he was writing with Yagyuu Hiroshi and Oshitari Yuushi. But Yagyuu was away in Europe on holiday, Oshitari was off somewhere (entertaining a lady friend, Yanagi suspected), and today was Yanagi’s off-day, so he deserved a little rest.
According to the Yomiuri Shimbun and a host of other papers (which had all generously given the matter front-page coverage), Tezuka Kunimitsu had held a press conference to declare his innocence and promise full cooperation. Yanagi noted without surprise that the Japanese newspapers had reported it quite strongly in Tezuka’s favour, whereas the Western journalists were a different matter altogether. There had been too long a lapse of time between the moment the AMTP released the news and Tezuka’s public statements to the press. It was all too easy, Yanagi thought, to read between the lines of the Western newspapers; Reuters and AFP were running editorials about past drug abuse and dope scandals involving famous athletes, and every newspaper hack just stopped short of coming right out to say that Tezuka was guilty, which said quite a bit for the “shoot first, ask questions later” approach that the public kept demanding in drug or performance booster inquiries of any kind. The delay in public statements from Tezuka’s camp had been pounced on by certain journalists and a lot was being made out of it. It had been a serious strategic error on the side of Tezuka’s inexperienced management and, indeed, on the part of the National Tennis Association of Japan, for they were supposed to provide strategic advice on such matters.
There was nothing else of further note in the papers, really-there was still no news about the disappearance of Seigaku’s Momoshiro Takeshi. Apart from that, the only item that made Yanagi pause for a moment was the short article on the second page of the sports section of the Yomiuri Shimbun, informing readers that Yukimura Seiichi and Sanada Genichirou were scheduled to play at 4 a.m. the next morning.
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Extracts from the private blog of Yanagi Renji, dated 28 July 2010
Date: Wednesday, 28th July 2010
User: quot_erat_demonstratum (yanagi_renji)
Logged in at: 12:03 p.m.
Location: Kanagawa, Kanto, Tokyo, Japan
Music: Okiayu Ryoutaro - Road
Mood: In need of good black coffee
I hope Seiichi is well enough to follow this tournament to the end. He looked unusually pale and washed-out in his match against Martinez on Monday, which is very unlike him. There has been some mention in the newspapers for weeks on end that he has been suffering from a bout of ’flu. A simple ’flu would not affect Seiichi so much. To the best of my memory, the last time something like this happened, Seiichi ended up in hospital diagnosed with Guillain-Barre Syndrome. I do not think it is a relapse this time; the doctors had assured us the last time that he was completely cured. Still, I keep re-living the nightmare of junior high, when Seiichi had those operations. We came so close to losing him then; the operations performed by the doctors were revolutionary in those days, and all I can really remember is that the percentage of success was low-although success meant that recovery would be complete, with no relapse and practically no need for rehabilitation.
On hindsight, I do not know if I would have said what I did then, supporting Seiichi’s decision to go for the operations. I am not surprised that Genichirou struck me in the face at that time for that suggestion. We all knew then that it was the only way left. Seiichi has pure genius, matched by few in his generation or, indeed, this century. I knew he would think as I did, that he would snatch at the slightest chance of full recovery rather than face the reality of never being able to lift a racket again.
I do not wish to go through that again.
(Note to self: call Akaya later this afternoon and get him to watch Seiichi and Genichirou. Akaya has a fine eye for observation-and is rather endearingly naïve otherwise.)
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Date: Wednesday, 28th July 2010
User: quot_erat_demonstratum (yanagi_renji)
Logged in at: 1:13 p.m.
Location: Kanagawa, Kanto, Tokyo, Japan
Music: Suwabe Junichi - Spirit Way
Mood: Hungry
It is time for lunch and I am now on the bus to Harajuku. If it were any other pair of tennis shoes, it might be possible to purchase shoelaces in any sports shop, but regrettably, I happened to put on this particular pair. I should never have allowed Akaya to pick out these shoes for me, because he tends to pick out these... unique designs. The only place to get the shoelaces in the correct colour and pattern is in Harajuku and I’m fast running out of shoelaces. This is the third pair to snap today; I only hope the fourth will hold up until I get there. Most extraordinary. On the average, one pair has snapped every twenty-four minutes. I believe this is a brand new record-not that there was one before it.
I have spotted three flocks of very large crows since half-past eleven this morning. There are also several black cats around. Three have already crossed my path. All were black as soot, completely ebony all over, and scowled at me as they passed.
I am really not very fond of cats, which is a strong point of difference between myself and Sadaharu. I have pointed out to Sadaharu several times that his calm acceptance of the more annoying habits of felines are wholly due to the fact that he has, for the last eight years, been in very close quarters with Seigaku’s Kikumaru Eiji. Kikumaru-san is a most agreeable person. Though human, he has somehow managed to incorporate the more likeable habits of cats without adding the more irritating aspects of feline behaviour (such as scratching, clawing and shedding). He is, I think, somewhat adorable as a human, and Sadaharu’s data shows that 100% of the people who come in contact with him agree as such.
However, I digress. I note with interest that I have also been forced by road blockages, closures and other unforeseen circumstances to walk under three ladders today.
Some people would say that I have accumulated sufficient ill fortune to last me several lifetimes.
At least I have not yet broken a mirror.
(Note to self: try to call Akaya later. He is not answering his mobile phone. Perhaps I should call Seiichi and Genichirou too, just to see if I can get anything out of those two).
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Date: Wednesday, 28th July 2010
User: quot_erat_demonstratum (yanagi_renji)
Logged in at: 3:53 p.m.
Location: Kanagawa, Kanto, Tokyo, Japan
Music: Kusunoki Taiten - Fly To Tomorrow
Mood: Contemplative - and verbose
I have five pairs of snapped shoelaces so far. I have seen five flocks of crows since this morning, have been forced to walk under five ladders and have had five black cats mince across my path.
I would like to know if Someone Up There is trying to warn me that Something is about to Happen (as Akaya would say).
I made an attempt to reach Atobe Keigo in the hopes that he may be able to persuade Seiichi to submit to a thorough medical inspection. I have no doubts of the quality and competence of the doctors attending to Seiichi (on second thought, they are a team sent by the National Tennis Association, so I ought to be wary in light of the way they have handled Tezuka’s troubles), but a second opinion would not hurt. Atobe Keigo has connections to some of the best doctors, and he and Seiichi have an unusually excellent relationship that stems from their long years of rivalry.
Unfortunately, I was informed by Atobe’s private secretary’s secretary’s secretary in a suitably courteous and apologetic manner that Atobe was engaged and unable to attend to my call, and how did I get that private number? I do not remember exactly how I obtained that number, but it was in the database that Sadaharu and I have compiled and updated over the years. We constructed it in the final months of our last year of junior high, putting together vital information on the teams that had become the friends, allies and rivals of Seigaku and Rikkaidai.
It is strange that I would call Atobe. Our teams were rivals, but not friends. We were not enemies, but neither were we allies. Our chosen battleground was the tennis court, where we could all speak a language we understood, and where we could fight on equal terms. Perhaps the memory of the past is what made me feel that I had the right to dial one of Atobe’s numbers today to ask him to check up on Seiichi. Atobe is not someone I could call a friend, but he is one of the few people who would understand when I tell him about Seiichi, and he has the necessary resources to do whatever it takes.
(Note to self: Something does not feel right here. Akaya, Seiichi and Genichirou are all not picking up their calls. Reason tells me that I ought not to be panicked, but I am panicking just the same).
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Date: Wednesday, 28th July 2010
User: quot_erat_demonstratum (yanagi_renji)
Logged in at: 5:24 p.m.
Location: Library, Faculty of Medicine, University of Tokyo, Japan
Music: X Japan - Endless Rain
Mood: Doomed
Six pairs of shoelaces, snapped.
Six flocks of big, black crows.
Six ladders.
Six black cats.
They found Momoshiro’s backpack, but there is no sign of him.
Akaya has not returned any of my calls.
Seiichi is not answering his mobile phone.
I cannot reach Genichirou.
This is not a good day.
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Date: Wednesday, 28th July 2010
User: quot_erat_demonstratum (yanagi_renji)
Logged in at: 11:24 p.m.
Location: Seishun Train Station, Tokyo, Japan
Music: Hadyn - The Silent Symphony
Mood: -
I’m going to bike over to Sadaharu’s house now to watch the match.
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Extracts from Inui Sadaharu’s blog dated Thursday, 29 July 2010
Date: Thursday, 29th July 2010
User: carpe_jugular (inui_sadaharu)
Logged in at: 05:24 a.m.
Location: Tokyo, Japan
Music: Disutansu
Mood: Philosophical
Renji finally dropped off to sleep about ten minutes ago, right in the middle of a sentence. It seems the medicinal wine and strange raisins that were recommended by my mother’s friend do help people to go to sleep almost immediately after consumption. I wonder if it has any side effects, though-I should have checked that before allowing okaa-san to trick Renji into swallowing them.
It has been a longer day than I thought it would be.
I suppose we might have guessed something from the fact that Renji was unable to contact Kirihara, Yukimura and Sanada at all.
I suppose we could have realised something was wrong when the match didn’t start in time.
There are a lot of suppositions we could have made, but I doubt that we could have stopped Yukimura from fainting on court even before he could lift his racket.
The trick is to stop Renji from believing that he could have done something about it. He has been babbling on about black cats, crows, walking under ladders, snapped shoelaces... something about bad luck and something about a nightmare in which he heard Kirihara Akaya call for his help. He also threatened to boil Sanada and Yukimura in a vat of oil that he swears he has lying around somewhere. That was right before he slammed down the ’phone on Kirihara Akaya. If I wasn’t Inui Sadaharu and he wasn’t Yanagi Renji, I might think his sanity suspect.
In a way, I can imagine just how he feels. Sometimes I wonder if maybe, had I run after Renji that day, our friendship might have been saved. It has been saved-but we’ve lost four years of time in between. For years, I haven’t been able to find it in myself to forgive him, even though I keep telling him things are all right between us. It’s not the same anymore, because we’ve both changed too much, and it’s wrong to keep comparing our current friendship to the one we had when we were children, but there it is. I still keep thinking-maybe I could have done something about it. It’s taken me ten years to let him back into the house. Today would have been the first time we spent a night together in my house since ten years ago, watching a tennis match with just the two of us, the way we used to do when we were children.
It’s inexplicable guilt, wishing we could turn back time and make a different decision to assuage the way we feel now. Fuji wishes he had been with Tezuka when this whole thing broke. He thinks he could have stopped it somehow, made things all right-but Fuji being there wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. Kaoru told me that Echizen’s somehow blaming himself for Momoshiro’s disappearance-something about not having contacted Momoshiro for a long time, and not answering Momoshiro’s emails and telephone calls. Echizen somehow thinks he could have prevented Momoshiro’s disappearance. We all think we could have done something, maybe even gone with him to Biei...
We all want to take responsibility for things bigger than we are, to save the people we love and to have the things we really want. It’s part of human nature.
I hope Renji understands that it is not his fault.
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Date: Thursday, 29th July 2010
Logged in at: 07:24 a.m.
User: carpe_jugular (inui_sadaharu)
Location: Tokyo, Japan
Music: -
Mood: Tired
I just had a very strange conversation with Oshitari Yuushi, previously of the Hyoutei schools, current coursemate of Renji’s at Todai (they’re even writing a research paper together) and, most significantly, part of Atobe Keigo’s elite inner circle.
It seems that Atobe’s flying back with Tezuka and they’re due back tonight. Now that is extremely astonishing. How did Atobe get Tezuka on his private jet? Kidnap him? Trick him by promising that they were going to meet representatives of the AMTP to help Tezuka prove his innocence? Knowing Tezuka, there is a 92.76% chance that he would choose to stay on in Cincinnati or wherever the AMTP goes next in order to prove his innocence. Tezuka does not believe in running away.
That is not the only miracle Atobe is promising. He is also apparently making arrangements to have the finest medical care afforded for Yukimura Seiichi and to fly Yukimura back as soon as is humanly possible. Renji would be pleased and, I hope, calmer once he hears of this.
Atobe has also asked Oshitari-and Oshitari has thus enlisted my humble self for assistance-to contact the ex-captains and ex-vice-captains from certain schools, all from the Kantou region. Oshitari says Atobe has something up his sleeve, something Oshitari doesn’t have the necessary security clearance to reveal yet-although obviously Oshitari has security clearance from Atobe that enables him to know about it!
I pointed out to Oshitari that one cannot simply call up people after a space of some two to three years (we haven’t seen one another since the Kantou and National championships three years ago) and expect them to turn up. Oshitari’s reply was that it was obvious that it had something to do with Tezuka Kunimitsu and tennis, and that Atobe was doing something about it. Somehow I don’t think Tezuka is going to like being babysat by Atobe in this manner.
Oshitari had one last message, which was extremely cryptic.
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
I have looked it up. Hamlet, Act I, sc. iv. I confess I cannot make head or tail of it (because I didn’t study Hamlet, although I have heard that it is an excellent English play by the indubitable Mr. Shakespeare).
I think I hear ’kaa-san coming up the stairs, which means that she’s ready to drive Renji back to his home, and I should be getting ready to go with her.