txolops Chapter 18 Long Hair and Tennis, the Confused Ryo Shishido 1
Chapter 18 Long Hair and Tennis, the Confused Ryo Shishido 1
The morning classes went by quickly, and before we knew it, it was the fourth period.
Physical education class.
After the warm-up, the physical education teacher arranged middle-distance running: 2000 meters for boys and 1000 meters for girls.
Wang Yueling ran in the lead, her steps even and her breathing steady, as relaxed as if she were strolling through the woods.
His regular daily training honed his physical fitness and endurance to an exceptional level. After running two kilometers, he only had a light sheen of sweat on his forehead and neck, and his breathing remained perfectly steady.
He bent down to loosen his shoelaces, stood up to stretch his wrists, and stepped aside to watch the panting crowd on the track.
Not long after.
Cilang stumbled and staggered but still managed to cross the finish line.
He braced himself on his knees, panting heavily, his cheeks flushed red like ripe apples, his once fluffy hair now soaked with sweat, even the tuft of hair at the tip of his tuft was gone.
He looked like he had just been pulled out of the water.
"Ci Lang, are you alright?" Wang Yueling walked over and patted his back.
"I...I haven't recovered from morning training yet..." Jiro gasped for breath, each word seeming like an eternity between them. "Atobe...that devil...400 squats...300 push-ups...I feel like my legs don't even belong to me anymore..."
His tendency to sleep makes him prone to fatigue, and with Atobe's grueling training this morning, he's now finding it difficult to even sit up.
Mochizuki Ryou looked at him with amusement, took a handkerchief from her sweatpants pocket and handed it to him: "Wipe your sweat. I'm going to the convenience store to buy a sports drink. What flavor do you want?"
"I want the apple flavor!"
Cilang took the handkerchief and wiped his face haphazardly. Thinking of the sweet pudding, he immediately looked up, his eyes wet like a little animal begging for food, his voice still hoarse with panting: "And, and... could you bring me another strawberry pudding, Ling~?"
"Okay."
Wang Yueling waved helplessly and turned to leave the playground.
He walked slowly, his every move exuding elegance, even his back view appeared composed and refined.
I bought two bottles of chilled sports drinks and a strawberry pudding.
Wang Yueling didn't want to take the long detour again, so she decided to take a shortcut back to the playground from behind the laboratory building. The laboratory building was currently under renovation, but many students who also wanted to take a shortcut would also use this route. It was a bit narrow, but it would save a lot of time.
As he turned the corner, he heard the sound of a ball being hit.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Ok? !
The rhythm is a bit off.
It wasn't the stable style of normal training, but rather a suppressed ferocity, with no methodical hitting, each shot extremely powerful, as if trying to smash through a wall.
It makes one's heart clench.
Wang Yueling slowed her pace and walked towards the sound.
Behind the laboratory building is a long-abandoned sports field. Because it has been neglected, the ground is mottled, the wire mesh is rusty, and there are some abandoned sports equipment piled up in the corner. Few people come here on weekdays.
But now, the net gate is half open.
A somewhat familiar figure was frantically hitting the ball against the wall on the court.
That is……
Ryo Shishido.
Ryo Mochizuki remembered that Ryo Shishido was in Class 3-D, so this class should be an indoor jujitsu class, and it seems he sneaked out.
Ryo Shishido looked terrible. His long hair was soaked with sweat and clung to his neck. His face was pale and tense. He wasn't wearing his school uniform; he was wearing a gray sports T-shirt, and his back was completely soaked.
The hand movements for hitting the ball were completely distorted.
Every shot was made with all my strength. The ball bounced off the wall and flew wildly. Some of them hit the surrounding wire mesh with a clanging sound, while others even flew directly out of the court.
Wang Yueling frowned.
Shishido's hitting style is too aggressive.
If the wrist rotation angle is incorrect and the force is too strong, the entire body's center of gravity will shift. This kind of playing style not only fails to produce an effective return, but also easily injures the wrist and shoulder.
His expression darkened.
It seems that yesterday's match was a huge blow to Shishido.
The bitterness of losing the game; the frustration of being outmatched; the shame of being kicked out of the starting lineup; and the disappointment in oneself.
Shishido himself is an extremely competitive young man, with high aspirations and a stubborn personality. He can't show weakness in front of others, so he keeps his emotions bottled up inside and can only release them by hiding here alone and hitting the ball.
Wang Yueling understood his feelings.
When his illness began to worsen in his previous life, and he fell from the peak of glory, being ridiculed by the world as a "fallen genius," he did the same thing: he would find a secluded place, swing his racket until his arm trembled, and only when he could no longer stand would he admit that he had lost to fate.
He still can't forget the confusion of falling to the bottom, the despair of not being able to see the future.
Shishido's current stubbornness, resentment, and self-doubt are so similar to his past self.
This is not an escape.
It just takes time, in a corner where no one can see, to pick up the pieces of yourself, one by one.
-
Wang Yueling stopped a passing classmate and handed him a bottle of drink and a pudding: "Could you please give this to Jiro? Tell him I have to go back first and he can eat his lunch by himself. Thank you."
The classmate glanced at the figure playing ball wildly in the distance, then looked at him, nodded, and walked away.
Wang Yueling slowly walked back to the court, leaned against the goal frame again, holding another bottle of drink, with her hands in her pockets, and watched quietly without making a sound.
On the field, Shishido's movements became increasingly frantic. Finally, after exerting too much force, he stumbled and fell heavily to his knees on the field. His knees hit the concrete with a dull thud, but he seemed completely unaware of it.
Sweat dripped down his cheeks and onto the ground, making a soft sound.
He slowly tightened his grip on the racket, his knuckles turning white from the force, and the veins on the back of his hand becoming prominent. He then slammed his other hand into the ground repeatedly.
The tiny pebbles on the ground instantly cut the back of his hand, and bright red blood seeped out, mixed with the dust, looking rather shocking.
Wang Yueling frowned slightly.
"Quel imbécile!" (You fool!)
He muttered a curse in French under his breath, not loudly, but with a hint of helplessness in his voice.
He sighed softly.
Fine, I'll lend a hand!
Just like back then, Yukimura Seiichi illuminated him on the screen.
He walked onto the court with a bottle of ice-cold sports drink in his hand.
Shishido was still pounding the ground, her shoulders heaving violently, her long hair hanging down to cover most of her face, making it impossible to see her expression.
Wang Yueling squatted down and touched his sweaty face with the cool bottle.
The icy touch jolted Shishido awake.
He looked up, revealing a pair of bloodshot eyes, filled with exhaustion, resentment, and anger.
The moment he saw who it was, his brows furrowed, his lips moved but he said nothing, and he turned his head away, avoiding the bottle of drink.
"unnecessary."
His voice was hoarse, as if it were being forced out of his throat.
Then he struggled to his feet, picked up the scattered tennis balls, and continued hitting the ball with his racket.
Wang Yueling didn't move. She squatted there for a few seconds, put the drink in her hand on the ground, slowly stood up, and then patted the dust off her trouser legs.
He leaned against the net post, hands in his pockets, watching Shishido's frantic shot from behind, his tone casual, tinged with a hint of mockery:
"How old are you? You act like this after losing a game. What's the difference between you and a little brat who throws a tantrum because he didn't get candy? Ryo Shishido."
Shishido paused in his swing, the ball in his hand hitting the frame of his racket and flying off at an angle.
"Your tennis is ridiculously fragile."
These words were like a needle, piercing precisely where Shishido's greatest pain lay.
He stopped moving.
He whirled around, gripping his racket tightly, the veins on the back of his hand bulging, his eyes blazing with murderous intent: "What did you say?"
"I told you your tennis is fragile," Mochizuki Ryo repeated nonchalantly, his hands still in his pockets, his voice indifferent. "Not just tennis, you're pretty fragile too. You break down like this after losing just one match, what's the point of playing tennis?"
"Shut up! It's none of your business to lecture me!"
"Did I say something wrong?" Wang Yueling tilted her head, her eyes showing no sign of backing down, her tone still unhurried.
"It's a fact that your skills are relatively weak among the regular players of Hyotei Tennis Club. It's understandable that you feel ashamed for losing the match and being kicked out of the regular team. But what you should feel even more ashamed of is that after losing, all you did was go crazy and slam the ground, without understanding where the problem lies."
He paused, his gaze falling on Shishido Ryo's clenched fist, and continued bluntly:
"Everyone in your tennis club is arrogant and likes to fight on their own, but they don't have the ability to fight to the end. When they lose, they push all the pressure onto Atobe and attribute all the responsibility to underestimating their opponent."
"Ask yourself honestly, was it really just because you underestimated your opponent?"
"Your weakness in returning the ball has always existed, and your footwork has always been problematic. You should be aware of these issues, but have you corrected them? No! You just immerse yourself in your own world, thinking you've tried hard enough, yet you can't even do the most basic self-reflection."
"Shouldn't you be ashamed?"