“De-FENSE! You got this, Akane! C’mon, Nanami! You can do it!”
Ranko had cheered her heart out for Akane and the collegiate volleyball team from the fourth row of the gymnasium bleachers, but despite her best motivational efforts, things weren’t looking good. The Minato Mystics had handily won their first match of the sixteen-team single elimination tournament, and squeaked by their second-round challengers. With less than three hours’ rest, Akane’s team now faced their semifinal opponents, who’d had a bye and didn’t have to play in the first round. Despite Akane and Nanami’s heroics, the exhausted Minato squad had been overmatched all game.
“Yes!” Ranko whooped loudly as Nanami nudged the ball just barely over the net, dropping it in front of the opposing middle blocker to the rubber floor of the gymnasium court.
The crowd hushed as Nanami’s serve sailed over the net, redirected by a bump from the Asakusa libero. The Bears’ setter raised her arms to set the ball for her outside striker, and Akane turned to her left. “It’s coming to you, Fumi!” But the setter launched the ball upward at a wide angle, and instead of the girl to Akane’s left as she expected, it was the player behind the setter that spiked the ball downward and to the right. Having not turned quickly enough to notice the misdirection, Akane yelped as the speeding white ball struck her hard in the right cheek, sending her sprawling to the court as the referee whistled another volley for the Asakusa Bears.
“Oh, shit!” Ranko stood, watching with concern until her lover scrambled back to her feet, rubbing her cheek. That looked like it hurt. “Shake it off, Akane!” She bounced on her heels in her purple crushed velvet shirt and black pleated skirt, her de facto Mystics cheerleading outfit. She’d even put her hair up in two pigtails, just because she enjoyed the way it made Akane blush every time she made eye contact with her lover in the stands between volleys.
Akane backpedaled as the ensuing serve flew overhead, ducking at the last moment to allow Haruki to bump it over her head from behind. Akane set it high, and Nanami sprung toward it, swatting it out of the air. A redheaded girl on the Asakusa team received the spike with a hard bump that launched the ball back over to the Minato side of the net. Fumiko dug under it, bumping it backward over her shoulder high across the court. Akane jumped toward the net, smacking the ball in the direction of a blonde Asakusa player in the back row wearing number four.
The blonde struck the ball furiously and it ricocheted deep into the Mystics’ backcourt. Nanami backpedaled as Asami ran toward the point of impact. As Nanami prepared to redirect the ball, Asami crashed into her legs, and the pair collapsed in a heap as the winning point bounced through the back of the Mystics’ side of the court.
“Dammit!” Nanami pounded on the rubber floor as the Asukusa team loudly celebrated their advancement to the finals. Akane hung her head, holding her temples in her hands.
Oh, no. I’m so sorry, baby. Ranko sighed as the much larger Asukusa contingent of the crowd roared in celebration. She covered her mouth with her hands, watching helplessly as Akane’s disappointment took hold on her face.
“I’m really sorry, Nanami.” Asami cringed, clamoring to her feet and putting some distance between herself and the furious green-haired girl who still sat on the court.
“Oh, whatever.” Nanami shook her head in disgust as she climbed to a standing position. Basic gap discipline. Friggin’ idiot.
Sighing, Akane led her teammates around the net to congratulate the victors, heartbroken though she was. We were so close!
The game was over, but Ranko cheered loudly anyway. I’m still proud of you, Akane. They only got this far because you and Nanami put them on your backs, and Nanami was only there because of you.
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“Come on, girls,” Akane said dejectedly after they had finished paying their respects to their vanquishers. “Let’s head in.” She put her arm around Nanami’s shoulder as the group slowly made their exit from the court.
Ranko slinked from her seat, tossing the trash from her snacks and drink in a receptacle on her way out of the gym. She circled around to the back hallway connecting the gym lobby to the visitors’ locker room, putting her back to the gray cinder block wall and sliding down until her backside hit the white linoleum floor. I’m gonna be right here for you as soon as you come out, Akane.
“FUCK!” Nanami punched the open door of the locker she was using, sending it swinging closed with a loud slam.
“Hey! Take it easy, Ikehara,” Coach Anada said as he entered the locker room. “Come on, bring it in, girls.” Akane and her sixteen teammates huddled around the middle-aged man, the ones in front squatting or sitting down to allow the rear row to see him as well.
“Listen. I know this isn’t the outcome we wanted. I know you’re disappointed right now. But I couldn’t be prouder of you girls. The way you turned this season around? The way you rallied around each other? You should all be proud of yourselves, too. No, we didn’t make it all the way like we hoped, but you all proved a hell of a lot about yourselves over the last few months. Come on, give it up for yourselves.”
A weak smattering of whooo sounds arose from the assembled athletes.
“And, hey, listen,” the coach continued. “Our captain’s returning next year, and a good many of you are, too. We’re gonna be ready to pick up right where we left off, and in 1992, it’s gonna be our turn! Right?!”
Again, a half-hearted cheer arose from a few of the dejected young women.
The coach sighed. Clearly, there’s no cheering them up right now. “Alright, well, let me get out of here so you girls can get changed, I guess.” He picked up his clipboard, pushing through the door into the hallway and stalking past Ranko.
As the coach passed, Ranko scampered back up to her feet. She’d almost fallen asleep waiting. It had been a stressful, and busy, few weeks. Years, really, if she allowed herself to really think about it.
Akane followed Fumiko timidly to her locker, waiting to speak until after the former captain sat down and started to unlace her shoes.
“Fumi, I just want to say I’m really sorry. I really hoped we’d get you a championship before you graduated.”
Fumiko looked up at Akane as she pulled the black elastic out of her hair and released her ponytail with a shake of her head. She sighed, shrugging. “We shouldn’t have even been in the tournament to begin with. You and Nani made that happen. You led your ass off, girl. The squad’s in good hands next year.”
“You think so?” Akane blushed, clasping her hands in front of herself and bowing slightly in apology. “I’ll try not to let you down, Fumi. With the whole captaincy thing, I just felt like I owed it to you to get you a win, and I couldn’t get it done.”
The blonde set her shoes on the wooden bench, standing. “You don’t need to do that. Quit beating yourself up! We already talked about the captain thing. That was months ago, and it was my fault, not yours.”
“Yeah, just…” Akane sighed. “I wish I knew how it all happened. I still feel like I stole something from you, and especially not knowing who tipped Coach off about Saki and Reiko, and whether whoever it was will still be on the team next year, it just… I don’t know, it just still feels weird.”
Fumiko chuckled, rolling her eyes and shaking her head with a dark smirk. “Oh, Akane. She still hasn’t told you?”
Akane blinked. “Who? Told me what?” She scratched her head curiously. “What are you talking about, Fumiko?!”
The former captain put her arm around the shoulders of Akane’s sweat-drenched purple jersey, pulling her friend out of earshot of the other girls that were still changing out of their uniforms. Kid’s tougher than Eiji, anyway. Dumb lunk didn’t make it a month.
“Akane, honey… We need to talk about your girlfriend.”