Location: Several blocks from Sakura's local high school
Time frame: Monday, early morning
Point of view: Sakura

Today was the Monday after Eriol's party. It was a typical spring day: the sun was shining, the sky was of the softest of blues—only wisps of cloud disturbed the colour's mastery—and blowing lightly was a crisp morning breeze. Normally, it was a sight I revelled in, but today, I was in no such mood: in fact, the sun's rays only served to aggravate the throb in my head, where the seven-thirty-morning breeze—which I felt had a bit of bite upon its touch—hurt rather than refresh me as it dried the much needed moisture from my eyes.

The energy that I sensed in the air this sunny Monday morning was definitely not in me. I was tired and I wished I didn't have to attend the eight-o'clock meeting we had for peer support leaders—and prefects alike—who had chosen to sign up for camp leadership at the upcoming junior camps. Just like the weekends, I wished I was still tucked in bed and under the darkness of my covers (as I had been suffering with the most excruciating hangover from Eriol's party); but just like the weekends (the days when I worked at a dry-cleaning place—a part-time job I took on two years ago to earn a little extra spending money), I couldn't; I had obligations: I was one of such people who had chosen to sign up to lead a group of juniors at camp.

These meetings, they took place fortnightly for about two months leading up to it. As part of our training, we were required to attend them and go through a set of safety and first-aid procedures and leadership skills taught by the school's camp coordinators and other knowledgeable professionals; and we discussed a range of scenarios and our reactions to them. In normal circumstances, attending them was no big deal, but the thought of sitting through it this morning sent me into a state of dread.

Closing my eyes after a drawn-out sigh, I sought to relieve the dull headache that continued to persist before pinching the inner corners briefly. With the lids over my eyes, my head stopped throbbing as intensely as before; I was even able to enjoy the bright chirps of some birds off in the distance. Finding the activity soothing, I kept them closed—until I was interrupted by a flow of disturbing images. They were of Kansuke and that girl together, against the wall in a corner—her shoulders bobbing up and down as she giggled and him hovering over her, his muscular body inches from hers, and gazing intently at her.

A pang of pain surfaced and I slowly opened my eyes whilst the sequence of images continued to play another round in my mind. These images, they've played many times before since Friday. Unexpectedly, when things were most quiet and most peaceful, the images would appear. I didn't know what to do with them; not enough time had passed for me to decide. One thing I knew though was that Kansuke was this type of person: if he wasn't with that girl in my class, it would have been another girl. Girls were always around him. He was a popular guy—blonde, tall, and he was handsome. Everyone was after him. So why I was so shocked that night, I wasn't too sure.

I sighed: I only wished he'd notice me. that 'another girl' was me.

Then suddenly, I found myself frowning upon the surfacing of my next thought. As clear as that incident was between Kansuke and that girl, it seemed that it was all I remembered. There were the moments I recalled taking a couple of alcohol before deciding to take a walk outside to calm my mind, but after that, it was a complete blur; how I had got home and laying safely in my bed was a mystery to me.

When I asked my brother—who had apparently come home in the weekends to take care of things while dad flew out of town for a day conference (something Dad had forgotten to inform me)—he had said that I'd been calling him Kansuke. Hearing that it might have been him, the moment I got off from work, I called Tomoyo to confirm, but to my disappointment, she told me that it wasn't Kansuke. He was one of the many that were left unconscious at Eriol's manor overnight.

It was a worry at first when I didn't know who had actually brought me home, but Touya seemed to be okay with the guy as his lecture was more focused on the issue of me getting to such a drunken state rather than on the actual person who had brought me home. He spent a good while scolding me like he was my father about the dangers of wandering in the street, dressed the way I was; and with me completely 'hammered' and unaware, I could have easily been seduced and kidnapped by some pervert who could have shipped me overseas to work as a concubine; before finishing off with something along the lines of it being fortunate that it wasn't the case and that this guy decided to spare my life and chose to bring me home as opposed to the latter.

My brother, sometimes he had such a big imagination.

But then again, I suppose this time he was right. I could have been picked up by some stranger and left scrambling for my freedom or worse yet, left for dead. It was lucky Dad wasn't home. He was a gentle father so he wasn't too into the verbal punishment like Touya; he would never voice his disappointment; he'd just lecture me the rights and wrongs before allowing me to think it over. Still, just thinking about the unspoken disappointment in his eyes, it would have been enough to make me regret my actions instantly. I couldn't have handled Dad's disappointment in me. So I was glad it was Touya who saw me drunk than my dad.

All of a sudden, a loud, drawn-out horn went off. I spun my head to my left, towards the direction of the sound; a car was swerving away from this guy who was dashing past oncoming traffic like an idiot.

"Sorry!" the guy's voice echoed through the street.

The car passed him with no further fuss as the perpetrator continued across the street with several articles of clothing draped over one of his arms. He then disappeared into a store. Moments later he was out, without the clothes, replaced by a cup and a couple of items of food in hand.

As I got closer, I realised that this 'idiot' was also the Loner. It had been kind of weird actually: I've been running into him a lot these days. I was beginning to wonder what the deal was with everything—whether it was just a coincidence, or because of some weird astronomical alignment of the planets, or something else, that constantly made me run into him.

He got into his car which was just ahead of me. Not intending to acknowledge him, I casually walked past his car, not expecting him to catch sight of me. But then I heard two soft beeps. Should I just pretend the beeps weren't for me and continue to walk past?

I stopped and turned around.

He had his window wound down, head inclined out the window. "Hey," he called. I didn't respond and just waited for whatever he wanted to say to me. "Do you want a lift?"

What—to school, with the Loner? I wasn't going to be caught dead standing next to him, let alone sit next him. And in his car?—no thanks, I think I'd rather walk. Okay, that was the irrational side of me talking, but I didn't need him to take me to school.

I replied, "It's—"

"Or would that damage your reputation?" I almost choked on my own breath at his matter-of-fact tone, at the ease he got that sentence out, silenced without a response to such an incorrect deduction. Reputation had nothing to do with the reason to why I preferred not to enter into his car. The Loner was a classmate—a person that I barely even associated with. Plain and simple: it was odd; I didn't know this guy enough to just hop into his car all of a sudden.

As that was, indecision plagued me. I could have easily declined and walked away and let him think whatever he wanted to think of me. But he wasn't right about me; I wasn't as shallow as he had made me out to appear; I could sit in the same car as him.

Reaching for the passenger's door, I took my seat next to him—after all, it was a free ride to school, and the extra time would allow me to take some time to rest my head. Stiffly I sat in my seat, as the Loner headed back onto the road. Awkwardness settled in and I felt my gaze dart around, unable to find a position to settle on that felt comfortable and natural. It was only after a few minutes that I felt the awkwardness die down as my attention switched from the situation itself to the sounds and interior of the Loner's car.

Each time he changed gears the car made drawn-out, powerful hissing sounds; his gear was not like the standard ones : the knob on the top of it was changed to a m etallic-looking one, finished off with a grey and black design in leather; the stereo looked pretty flashy too: no sound played out of it (I presumed it had been muted), but there were a lot of controls and graphics that were illuminated in reds and green, the little bars on the display rising and falling. Looking through the reflection of the rear vision mirror, a few stack of books scattered at the back. They didn't look like school books, more like manuals for something. Then dropping my eyes to the left of me, I caught onto the silver-metal-looking clutch pad; it was at this point I realised that this Loner really liked his cars.

"Have you had breakfast?" the Loner asked suddenly, breaking me out of my thoughts. I scrolled my eyes to the arm that was extended and placed in front of me. He held a paper-wrapped item of food with the word 'Bagel' printed on it.

"I have two. Would you like one?" he continued.

"No thanks," I declined.

He nodded once; then placed the bagel down onto a flat surface before unwrapping it with one hand as he kept a hand on the steering wheel. He then took a large bite from it—a couple of large bites. Both my brows rose in surprise: what an appetite this guy had; left in his hand, was barely a segment that was no larger than one of an orange. The bagel was pretty much gone after those two bites.

A yellow traffic light had changed to red; we decelerated. With the engine quietly vibrating now, the atmosphere in the car died down to yet another uncomfortable silence. I watched the Loner put the car into neutral before taking his foot off the clutch and putting on the handbrake. He reclined back against his seat, the arm steering the wheel relaxed against the window ledge.

I couldn't help but stare at him. He didn't look back at me though. He was just sitting still, apathetically staring outside, but seemingly content and untroubled: I wonder what went through the mind of a guy like him. My eyes then followed the hand that was feeling for the cup that sat in its holders underneath the stereo; he took it in his grasp whilst his attention maintained on the road ahead. Continuing in his casual manner, he opened up the cup's lid and took in a whiff of the drink, which had soon wafted towards me: chocolate. Once again, he offered it to me; and again, I declined with a shake of the head. But I'd admit, it did smell good: I might have to get one later myself.

"Looking forward to the camp trip coming up?"

"Camp trip?" I hadn't intended it to come out sounding like I didn't know what he was talking about—or even respond with such an answer—but somehow it did.

"The junior camps—you signed up, didn't you?"

"Yeah," I replied simply—but how did he know? Then a thought came to me. He was at those camp meetings every Monday too. He situated himself near a wall, at the side of the room. He wasn't a prefect, so he must have been a peer support leader.

"So, you signed up?" I asked.

"Yeah—I thought it'd look good on my application for next year."

He was referring to his application to university next year. I hadn't really thought too much about what I was going to do next year let alone settle on where I wanted to head into or what I wanted to do; I guess I'll just have to think about that nearer to the end of the year. The Loner however, it seemed he pretty much had it all planned out. I didn't expect anything less from someone who got A's for practically every single test, really.

All of a sudden, I heard the piercing ring of a cell phone. Following the sound, I met up with the Loner's cell phone that was supported by a clip near the dashboard. He reached for the earplug which dangled off the phone holder before putting it into his ear.

"Hey."

That phone's always so busy, even at this early hour. I looked to the display on the screen. It read: Meiling. It sounded like a girl's name.

"Yeah I got your letters..." He didn't speak for a while as the person on the other end apparently had a lot to say. "...So when does she want this to happen?" Several nods followed before he expressed a heavy sigh.

I wondered what it was that was making the loner talk unhappily to whoever it was on the other end of the call.

I caught onto my nosiness: I returned to the front and waited for the traffic lights to turn green. But of course that didn't stop me from being able to hear his end of the conversation. None of what he said made sense to me, but he said,

“No, it's fine. She will proceed whether I say or do anything to oppose it.” There was a considerable pause before he sighed; then said, “Uh, I know. Thanks for letting me know, Meiling. We'll talk another time.”

As he said that, the traffic lights switched to green and the car in front of us moved off with many cars behind forced to wait because of our non-moving car. I was about to tell the loner that the lights had switched to green, but he caught on a quick moment later: he slammed his cup back into the cup holder; made a quick transition to first gear; clutch down; handbrake down; before we lurched forward. I was quite impressed with his speed actually, even as I was being pushed hard against my seat from the effects of inertia.

Calmness came as we returned to normal speed.

“Are you alright?” the loner asked me. A hand was on my right shoulder. I felt it there a moment after the sudden lift-off. He returned it to the wheel; I nodded to his question slowly: something about it—the way he said it reminded me of something; it was familiar, but I couldn't grasp onto why it was.

He nodded also before his brows rose. His attention was back onto the person on the other end of the phone call which seemed to not have been ended.

“No, I wasn't talking to you...” A brief silence; before he said, “A classmate,” brows then furrowed slightly, “Yes...”

I assumed the person on the other end was asking about the person sitting in the car with him: that was me. But I couldn't guess the next words that the person on the other end had said as the loner's next words and actions confused me: after the last response, his head jerked backwards—"No, it's not like that!" His voice had risen in volume and distress was apparent in his tone—"Look, I'll talk to you when I get home. By—"

He stopped again.

“Okay, okay, whatever you say. B—"

The loner's thumb that had positioned over the button on his hands free cell phone device never got pressed as rhe person on the other end seemed to have hung up on him.

He sighed before he took the earpiece he had in his right ear out. “Typical Meiling,” he muttered to himself as he did so.

I suppose the person on the other end hung up on him, I thought.

Then another thought entered as we resumed in quietness: the scene which had just passed made me wonder if my assumptions of the loner being a loner was wrong—was this person he talked to a moment ago his girlfriend?

Many more moments in silence passed before we finally reached school. When we entered the school grounds, the loner and I parted ways as he had told me he had some things to do before he attended the meeting that he and I had. Even though that was his explanation, somehow I wasn't too convinced that it was the real reason he had left. He may have sensed my discomfort of entering the meeting together.

Location: Phys-Ed Building
Time frame: Same day
Point of View: Sakura

"Now that we've done the drills, for the last twenty minutes let's have some good rallies going alright?" the P.E. teacher announced.

I loved P.E. It was my favourite subject out of all the ones offered by the school. I've taken this subject since grade eight. The first three years of high school it was compulsory, but the last two years we were able to choose whether we took it or not; and of course I chose the subject. Who wouldn't? It was the only subject in school that I didn't need to cram day and night to understand.

Volleyball was this week's activity for phys-ed. Our class had been learning some basic volleyball skills beforehand—setting, spiking, serving, and all that sort of stuff—and now we were finally able to put those skills to a bit of use.

"Right, get into groups of threes or fours and position yourselves onto the courts."

As soon as the P.E. teacher finished, I immediately searched for Kansuke. I found standing near the entrance. Just as I was about to call out to him to ask him if he wanted to form a group with me, I heard a voice call for me. "Hey, Sakura." It was a classmate of mine. He was one of Kansuke's team-mates in soccer. "Do you want to join us?"

I looked over at the direction his head gestured. He had two other people in his group already. I suppose I could join them, but I really wanted to be in the same group as Kansuke. Then I heard another person call my name from behind.

It was Eriol. "Sakura. Over here!" Seeing Kansuke next to him, I nodded to accept the invitation.

I turned back to the guy with the grin still on my face. "Sorry, I've already got a group."

"No sweat." Then he left.

Happily, I made my way to Kansuke and Eriol. We chose to position ourselves on one of the courts on the far end. Eriol had already picked up a ball, and he was casually doing some soccer tricks with it while waiting for a team to occupy the other side. Kansuke joined him.

Just a few steps away, I saw two of my classmates, Kojima Natsumi and Daishi Tomoko, talking, still in search of a third member to join their group.

"Hey Natsumi, Tomoko," I thought to call, "have you found a group yet?"

Natsumi shook her head. "We just need a third person."

"One of you can join our group if you like, and there's another group that needs a fourth person just over there." I pointed to the group that I was approached by just before, attempting to be helpful.

They neither nodded nor shook their heads, they were in between, apparently taken by indecision. They continued to look around, laying their chances on finding one more member, instead of splitting up.

Natsumi gasped. "Tomoko, how about Li?"

I switched my attention to where the two directed their attention. The Loner had just walked into the gym. He probably went out for a drink or something.

"Oooh yeah, we can ask Li Syaoran to join our group." They seemed excited in recruiting him. I suppose he wasn't a bad team member. Even though he was a loner, he wasn't too bad at the activities; he could do a few things.

"Li, we need another member. Do you want to join our group?" I heard them call loudly to him.

"Everyone in a group?" the P.E. coach interrupted not too soon after. He looked around; no one indicated they hadn't. "Okay, we're going to rotate clockwise. When the buzzer on the electronic score-board goes off, head to the next court. When the ball bounces out of court or your team misses it, rotate positions within each of your teams, and service goes over to your opposition. Alright, begin."

Our team began to set ourselves up. Kansuke positioned himself at the back corner as usual in games like these. He had a strong arm and could launch that ball a mile away. Eriol settled himself around centre court; and I settled myself at the nets. The front was where I was best. Any ball that hopped over that net, I was there in a snap; the ball didn't have the slightest chance passing me.

Well. most of the time.

"You ready to find out the taste of dirt?" Kansuke was doing his usual pre-game psych-ups.

"I should be asking you, 'coz yo goin' t'da ga-rave!" the guy across us retorted.

"You wait and see!"

"Mate, you're not going to win if you don't make a serve," Eriol interrupted. "Serve the ball!"

To that, Kansuke began the game with a smirk. "Game on!"

Typical macho behaviour, but whatever: game on. I settled my stance, hands above my waist, at the ready. I waited for the sound of hand to ball.

There it was. I watched the ball fly overhead, heading steeply towards the back corner. The guy there, seemingly unintimidated by the speed, controlled the ball, sending it high into the air. His team mates watched it upon its descent. One moved in to set it up to control the ball further. I could sense it now. They were preparing to return it, and it looked like they were going to send it back with a spike judging from their form and approach. I stood close to the net, readying myself to block it.

"Good going, Sakura!" the guys praised me. I had successfully blocked it, sending it back to their side of the court. I felt quite proud of myself being able to defend such a ball. But most importantly of all, Kansuke saw me do it. Now, we just needed to wait for the ball to come back to this side and finish off the rally. and then some more.

I kept a tight watch on the opposition's moves, watching them do a couple of forearm passes and volleys between them before sending it back once again. I ducked as I allowed the ball to pass me to the guys. Eriol caught it, setting the ball high. I moved in to set up the ball before retreating, making way for Kansuke to play the final shot. He attacked the ball with force, sending it off at a steep angle. The next thing we heard were a few bodies hitting ground before the satisfying sound of the ball's bounce resonated to our ears.

We all cheered at our victory. "Yeah!"

"What did I say?" Kansuke mocked the other team, rolling his head, and chin held up high as he did so.

I smiled. We won that one. It looks like our winning streak had stayed with us for a while longer as we won the majority of the rallies against this team; the combination of Kansuke's powerful serves, Eriol's saves, and my blocks at the front were unbeatable and on fire! When it was time to rotate to face off with the next team, our skills seemed to outmatch them as we won the next team too—quite easily might I add. I know this wasn't a real competition, but it did feel good to outplay our opposition each and every time.

The next rotation was our third. We'll see if we can put this one away as well and continue our winning streak. This last game before class ended, we had ended up meeting Natsumi's team. Her team consisted of herself, Tomoko, and that Loner.

Natsumi was at the nets like I was. "How's your team been doing?" she asked me.

"Good. We've won every time. How did you and Tomoko do?"

"Lost one; won one." She had said it with a smile.

She was always smiling. I don't think I've ever seen her get angry or frustrated with anything. It was kind of strange to find a person like that, almost unworldly, but Kojima Natsumi was one of those types. I didn't know her too well, but us being prefects—the Head of Culture and me being the Head of Social—we did spend a lot of time discussing matters together and when things got a bit too much and I started to stress out, she would still be in good spirits. I thought I was the most optimistic, but she was more.

I flicked my eyes to the right as I saw the Loner approach the net. He sent a glance towards me then settled on Natsumi. "Kojima, I'll take the front this time. You can serve first." Then he handed her the ball.

"Sure Li."

Natsumi started to head for the back just when Tomoko's voice halted her in her steps. "Oh I remember now. Natsumi, didn't you want to show Li your contacts?!"

I looked at Natsumi, searching for the thing Tomoko had told her to show him. I didn't notice anything—at least nothing different. But what I did notice was Natsumi's change of demeanour—she seemed a little stiff.

"Huh?! Umm. umm."

Natsumi just stayed at her position like something had glued her in place, while Tomoko made a few hand gestures for the Loner to approach her. He looked confused and exchanged a few puzzled looks between Tomoko and Natsumi.

"Natsumi has new ones. What do you think of them, Li?" Tomoko said.

He obliged as he stepped up to look at them. He lowered himself to level with Natsumi's eyes, studying them further. The two were only a foot away from me. I watched with curiosity.

"Your eyes were blue, weren't they?" he asked in a soft tone, almost as if he was mesmerised by them. I looked at her eyes, and right now, they were green.

"Y-yeah." To my surprise, she was stuttering in front of him. "These. are coloured contacts. Do you. like them?"

At that point, I noticed the pigment in her face had reddened, not to mention, the last couple of her words had come out squeaked. I, myself, was quite taken aback by the proximity he was from her. Was he that intrigued by a couple of coloured contacts?

The Loner stood back upright as he nodded to her question, "Uh. It's a very nice green," before he walked away casually.

Natsumi smiled and blinked—a blink that was oddly longer than a usual one. Before she took her position on the court, I saw her wipe her hands on the back of each other. I wasn't willing to think it, but was the perspiration she was wiping off caused by him? Then I saw her watch the back of the Loner. I followed her gaze for a second, just trying to understand it before I turned my gaze back towards Natsumi. She caught my eye and gave me a self-conscious smile.

The scene between Natsumi and Tomoko that was before me now was a familiar sight. As Natsumi made her way to the back, her friend was giggling at Natsumi's embarrassment. In response, Natsumi sent her a friendly shove before, I suspected, muttering something along the lines of "How could you do that to me?" all the while, self-consciously checking that the guy she obviously liked was not seeing this embarrassing display of hers.

Just imagine Tomoyo and the others playing a trick like that on me: she telling Kansuke to look directly into my eyes, him and me facing each other with only the tiniest gap between our faces—my heart would completely jump out of my body. But then again, how great would it feel to have Kansuke so close.

The image of Natsumi's close encounter with the Loner replayed itself in my mind again. Dismissing it moments later, I blinked them away, returning to the game.

In an attacking stance I prepared myself next to the net. Eriol was to the left of me and Kansuke was situated at the corner of the court, preparing to serve.

"You ready ladies?" Kansuke called across the court.

"Ready!" Natsumi replied. Natsumi held the ball, flat out on her palm before executing an underarm serve.

With that, the contest officially commenced between us and Natsumi's team. But before we even got into the first rally, it ended, lasting not even half a minute. The second rally and the following ones were no different. It didn't feel like much of a contest at all.

Having won each and every rally so far, our team had begun to feel extremely confident. At times, I swore we were only trying half-heartedly. It was hard not to. But I did feel bad for Natsumi's team; and I had expected Natsumi to feel down about being defeated so many times—especially by the balls of the Kansuke; at times I felt he was a little too harsh on them; at times, he took the game way too seriously—but they seemed quite the opposite. They were unfazed and untroubled by the unrelenting thrashing we were dealing out.

"That's service over," Kansuke narrated. The Loner picked up the ball and threw it over as his team rotated. Now Tomoko was at the back, Natsumi at the nets, and the Loner at the centre.

Kansuke picked it up and we started again. He leapt into the air and served the ball. I watched Natsumi attempt to get a forearm on it, but she didn't get a clean enough contact and sent it dangerously off at an angle. The Loner whipped himself to the far right. There was loud stomping and screeching but the Loner made it—barely. Tomoko quickly moved to receive the ball, sending it back over the net. Kansuke met up with the flat return to set it up.

"I'll take it!" I called. He had set it up high and I saw my chances to put my skills into practice. There was an area on the opposition's court that was completely unprotected and wide open for an attack. Internally, I expressed a hissing, "Yes!" This was going to be good.

Down it went, ball hitting hard on the ground! Everyone on Natsumi's team seemed to be in shock, having not prepared for that one. It was probably mean of me to send yet another defeat in their direction, but how often do I get to execute such a shot? I jumped in joy. That was my best shot yet.

"Way to go, Sakura! That's another point to the team." Eriol complimented.

"You're one smooth chick!" came in Kansuke.

"Thanks!" again, proud of my feat.

Once again, Natsumi's team rotated.

We set the next one up, getting over yet another great and controlled serve. But if we were expecting to win again, we were in for disappointment. It seemed that our winning streak had run out. Every ball, no matter how difficult, was retrieved by the other team. Not only that, Natsumi's team looked to have much more cohesion and coordination than we had; and together with the Loner's perfect placement, it caused miscommunication between Eriol and Kansuke, the drop of the ball, and therefore the drop of our service. For the first time in the game, we rotated.

Upon the rotation, Kansuke's frustration looked to be mounting as his gaze firmly set on the Loner who was now at the back of the courts, ready to serve. Although Natsumi's team did lose most of their rallies , and as much as I hate complimenting him, the Loner's plays during our recent rallies had been controlled and accurate . So much so, it had even Kansuke on the run.

The Loner tossed the ball high into the air, his hand pointing towards the descending ball, waiting until it fell to the right height above his head. H e then leapt high into the air and smashed it over to our side.

My eyes widened in astonishment: Impressive! I heard myself say. He could really serve: it came across fast and powerful. It occurred to me that, all this time he was holding back. Crouching down, preparing myself in the case that it reached me, I watched the ball descending at a sharp and dangerous angle near Kansuke, but not close enough. In a desperate attempt to keep the ball in place, he slid his body underneath it. Barely and ungracefully, he saved it, sending it up into the air, high enough for me to get an arm on it. It was an uncontrolled one, but it was sufficient as it went over the net, giving us some time to recover—at least that was what I had hoped .

As we tried to regroup, I caught a glimpse of Tomoko's volley. The next thing I saw was the Loner in the midst of yet another powerful smash. He sent the ball flying back to our side of the court, right in front of Kansuke who was still getting back onto his feet. It barely missed him.

"Wow. That was amazing, Li!" I heard Natsumi praise.

"Yeah. That was awesome!" Tomoko chimed in.

I looked to the Loner with a bit of disbelief. Where had all of that come from? He didn't return any huge reaction to his team mates' praise, though. No celebration upon receiving their first point, no jump for joy—just nods in acknowledgement before repositioning for the next serve.

Everyone on my team also got back into position. It was quieter than usual at the moment . I could sense a sort of tense, competitive atmosphere on th e court now. Maybe it was my imagination, but t he back of Kansuke in particular looked serious .

We threw the ball back over to the other side. Again, the Loner served and this time we were prepared for any of his attacks. But unlike the previous times , this time he rested his attack and softened the service, just lobbing the b all over. It came to me and I sent it back over the court just as casually. Natsumi set it up for Tomoko; Tomoko set it up for the Loner. He sent it back softly once more.

So it seemed the team had decided to tone down the pace of the game. I was glad too. If they had continued to play like before, we'd have a real game on our hands. We had been winning all this time and I was sure the P.E. coach had been sparing an eye over to our side, applauding our skills. To find out that we could be beaten by this team and by a team with the Loner?—alright, he actually understood the sport of volleyball more than I had first given him credit for—but showing up the combination of two real athletes and me? It didn't seem right.

"I'm calling for it," Eriol said.

Eriol pitched it high. Kansuke called for it next. The way he approached it, I knew immediately he was attempting another fast, powerful spike. What I didn't expect was where he was aiming—or rather, who.

"Ohh Bulls-eye!" Kansuke laughed. Then a professed apology came, "I didn't mean to do that, eh? Sorry mate!"

I looked at the Loner. My brows furrowed in concern. The ball had hit him hard between his shoulder and jaw.

Tomoko gasped as did Natsumi. "Li, are you alright?"

The Loner had his head down to the left, not responding for a moment.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he finally confirmed before looking up and gazing directly at Kansuke. It didn't look so friendly, but apparently Kansuke was unaffected as he just brushed it off, still finding it amusing. For the first time, I severely disagreed with Kansuke's actions, finding the suspected reasons for his act totally immature.

Then the sound of the buzzer went off.

"Everyone: that's the end of today's lesson," the P.E. teacher announced. He then directed his attention to our side of the court. "Li, are you alright?" Despite the pain that was visible through the discoloration that was emerging near his jaw, he nodded. "Get yourself a pack of ice on that in the nurse's office." The Loner nodded once more. "Alright then. Please pack up the gear and set it by the equipment room. Thanks everyone! See you next class."

"Hey, mate, you don't mind packing this up for us?" Without waiting for an answer from the Loner, Kansuke left for the changing rooms without remorse.

"We'll help too, Li," I heard Natsumi's voice say. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Uh. Slightly sore, but I'm okay," he replied.

As his group began undoing the nets, I thought to move in and help with the poles. The Loner stood above me and I noticed a hand cupped around his neck for a short while before he released it and got back to the nets. I contemplated on inquiring about his injury, but I decided against it and just tended to the rest of the equipment.