23. Outward Spinning Ball

“It’s not that…” Yanagi denied softly.

“The truth is, it’s because of my family. My father has been working here long-term instead of in Tokyo. Even if I wanted to team up with Sadaharu again, there are some things beyond my control that I can’t change.”

Akira Matsubara’s expression brightened in realization, then he pressed further, “What does your father do for a living?”

“He’s an accountant,” Yanagi replied quietly.

“Damn… an accountant…” Seeing Akira’s look of frustration, Yanagi regarded him and asked, “Why? Is someone in your family in the same line of work?”

“That’s not it…” The boy gave a sheepish laugh. “If your father worked in education—like a teacher or something—I might be able to help, but if he’s an accountant, there’s nothing I can do.”

The disappointment that surged in Akira’s heart at that moment was far greater than what he’d felt earlier when he thought he couldn’t persuade Yanagi. If he’d been frustrated before because Yanagi couldn’t join Evergreen Academy, now he felt utterly desolate at the realization that even if Yanagi changed his mind, he still wouldn’t be able to join the team.

No matter what he did, would Yanagi always be out of reach?

Just as the boy’s heart sank into despair, Yanagi’s next words gave him a rollercoaster ride from heaven to hell and back again.

“Speaking of education, before my father landed this high-paying job here in Kanagawa, he worked as a teacher in Tokyo.”

“Oh? Really?” Akira’s hair practically stood on end. He shook Yanagi excitedly to confirm.

“Y-yes…” Yanagi, caught off guard by the sudden gesture, could neither confirm nor deny.

“I can ask my family about this, but first we’d need your father’s consent. From what you’ve said, it sounds like he left teaching in Tokyo due to the low salary, and that’s why he took the accounting job with a higher wage in Kanagawa. So your family moved here when you were in fifth grade?”

Akira rubbed his chin and looked at Yanagi.

“Yes, that’s more or less it. Sadaharu and I ended up parting ways because my family moved, so I transferred from Midorikawa First Elementary to Kanagawa Second Elementary,” Yanagi recalled.

“So does that mean if there’s a teaching position that pays more than his current accounting job, your father would consider moving the family back to Tokyo?” Akira’s blunt question left Yanagi unsure how to answer for a moment. But thinking it over, Akira wasn’t wrong—his father had indeed abandoned teaching in Tokyo for accounting in Kanagawa because of the salary. If the pay were better, he might reconsider.

But Yanagi quickly doused his own hopes, shaking his head with a wry smile. “You seem to have overlooked something important. Even if you could arrange for my father to earn more as a teacher than before, the number still wouldn’t match what he makes as an accountant.”

“If it’s just money, that’s easy—if you join Evergreen Academy, I’ll make sure your father receives the same salary as an accountant for resuming his teaching position in Tokyo. How about it?” Akira said grandly with a sweep of his arm.

Sometimes talking about money might feel tacky, but if a problem can be solved with cash, then it’s hardly a problem at all. From Yanagi’s words, Akira could tell that the only reason his father relocated the family was the low teacher’s salary. Real life was just like that, even if there were occasional twists of fate.

“R-really?” Yanagi looked at the boy’s boldness in disbelief.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” Akira promised.

...

After bidding farewell to Yanagi, Akira and Sadaharu boarded the bus to Evergreen Academy. On the way, Sadaharu seemed rather downcast. “Sorry, Akira, I…”

“No need to apologize. Actually, I have good news for you.” Akira smiled and relayed the entire conversation he’d just had with Yanagi.

“Really? Yanagi… he might come back to Tokyo?”

Even though Sadaharu’s glasses concealed most of his expression, his trembling voice and the faint flush to his cheeks made it clear that he was overjoyed at the prospect of Yanagi’s return.

“It’s only tentative for now. Whether or not he comes back will depend on his family’s decision, but I’ll do my best to help,” Akira said, unable to make a one hundred percent guarantee. What he was certain of, though, was that the odds of Yanagi coming were now far higher than before.

Akira was in high spirits that day. Although he’d spent the whole day recruiting players from four different schools, he didn’t feel tired at all. After all, he’d managed to secure nearly all the people he wanted, even if some of the process had been a little arduous.

By the time they returned to Evergreen Academy, the sun was already setting. Akira led Sadaharu to the faculty office to meet with Kunimitsu Tezuka, the captain, and his vice-captain, Syusuke Fuji.

Sadaharu was no stranger to the two of them, so their reunion was far less awkward than Akutsu’s or Shishido’s had been. Watching them reminisce, Akira didn’t interrupt. After leaving the office, he made his way alone to the tennis courts.

“Huh? Where did those two go?”

The courts were filled with regular Evergreen Academy players practicing, but there was no sign of Akutsu or Shishido.

“Back already?” came a flat, emotionless voice from behind. Akira turned to see Akutsu, hands in his pockets, radiating arrogance. The boy grinned, “What, skipping practice again?”

“Those guys aren’t even worth my time,” Akutsu sneered, casting a contemptuous glance at the chattering players on the court. Then he looked at Akira. “Besides, didn’t you say you’d prefer I didn’t cause trouble?”

“That’s true, but if you don’t train and just rely on your talent, don’t expect a free ride for three years,” Akira said with a sigh. Akutsu had been a powerhouse at Yamabuki Middle mainly because, aside from Kiyosumi Sengoku, no one there could compare to him—not Minami Kentarou, not Higashio, not even Nitobe. But Evergreen Academy was a different story. Here, you had the future national-level Tezuka and Yanagi, the near-national-level Fuji, and the regional-level Shishido.

At Yamabuki, only Sengoku could be considered near-national-level, while the others struggled to even reach regional level.

As Akutsu fell silent, Akira saw no need to nag further and instead asked, “By the way, have you seen Shishido—the one with the long ponytail?”

“That guy? Last I saw, he was by the vending machines practicing some kind of special move. The pose was pretty damn cringey,” Akutsu recalled Shishido’s discus-throwing racket swing and the way he’d knelt on one knee, gripping his wrist after the shot. It was certainly odd.

“Heh…” A vein throbbed on Akira’s forehead. Akutsu really had no right to call out others for weird poses. His own might not be as flashy, but in retrospect, there was a certain hint of embarrassment to them too.

“Got it,” Akira sighed, collecting his thoughts. What was Shishido up to, practicing some secret move alone? As far as he could recall, Shishido didn’t really have any signature moves at this stage. Even in his third year, his only trick was the super-fast volley, and that hardly required any over-the-top posing.

When Akira arrived near the vending machines—a spacious area between the boys’ and girls’ tennis clubs—he saw a ponytailed boy in an Evergreen Academy uniform winding up with a discus-throwing motion, then dropping to one knee as he whipped his racket forward.

“That pose…?!” Akira muttered, stunned. In the next instant, his face darkened, his voice heavy and ominous with each word: “External Spin Shot…”