bookrebus Chapter 66 Training Camp, Whetstone and Knife
Chapter 66 Training Camp, Whetstone and Knife
The car drove smoothly out of Hyotei Academy and headed towards Kanai General Hospital.
The street scene outside the window slowly receded, and the early summer sunlight of Tokyo filtered through the leaves of the roadside trees, dappling the car window.
Half an hour later, the car stopped downstairs at the hospital.
He carried the food box and gift box, with the bouquet of Sacred Heart lilies in his arm, and used his shoulder to push open the door of the inpatient department, making his way up to the sixth floor.
A faint smell of disinfectant lingered in the corridor. When the nurses at the nurses' station saw him, they smiled and nodded, already used to it.
The door to Yukimura's hospital room was ajar.
Mochizuki Ryou tapped twice, glanced down at the thing in her hand, and pondered what she would say to Yukimura later.
Pushing open the ward door, I found it empty; there was no familiar figure in sight.
Yukimura is not here.
Wang Yueling wasn't surprised. The fourth week after surgery was packed with rehabilitation training. Dr. Laurent said the recovery curve was within expectations, and they could gradually increase the intensity starting this week.
I suppose they've gone to train.
He went to the bedside table and placed the desserts and gift box on it. Then he picked up the white porcelain vase on the table and went to the bathroom to change the water. He carefully placed the Sacred Heart lilies into the vase, adjusting the angle so that each flower faced the light.
As I inserted the fourth branch, I heard soft footsteps at the door. They were very light, but the rhythm was familiar.
He turned his head away.
Yukimura Seiichi stood at the door, wearing a hospital gown, his forehead covered in a fine layer of sweat, his cheeks still flushed from exercise, but his underlying complexion remained sickly pale. A few strands of bluish-purple hair clung to his temples, and his chest rose and fell gently, clearly indicating that he had just returned from the rehabilitation room.
The moment he saw Wang Yueling, he instinctively hid his right hand behind his back.
The movement was subtle, almost imperceptible.
His hand slid quickly down the door frame, hanging behind him, his fingers slightly curled, completely covering his palm.
Then he calmed his breathing, a gentle smile appeared on his lips, and his voice was slightly hoarse from exercising: "Ling, why are you here so early today?"
Wang Yueling's fingers, which were holding the flower branch, paused for a moment.
Yukimura's little movement just now did not escape Mochizuki Ryo's eyes.
His palms were scratched.
It was probably rubbed on some kind of instrument. It's not serious, but the broken skin is still bleeding.
"Seiichi, you're back."
Mochizuki Ryou felt a slight pang in her heart, but she didn't say anything. She continued to arrange the remaining flowers, a playful smile on her face. "I've gone too far with Atobe today, so I'm leaving now."
"How long did you do your rehabilitation training today? Your forehead is covered in sweat. Come sit down and rest."
Yukimura slowly walked to the bedside and sat down. He naturally reached for a handkerchief with his left hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, while his right hand remained under the blanket.
"It's only been a short time, and today is the first day of rehabilitation training. My body is a little tired."
He looked up at the flowers in Wang Yueling's hand, a faint look of surprise in his eyes. "These flowers are so beautiful. What kind are they?"
"Sacred Heart Lily".
Wang Yueling arranged the last branch, turned the vase, stepped back to examine the overall effect, and said, "My grandmother planted this in her yard. She said it has a long flowering period and a mild fragrance, making it suitable for a hospital room."
Yukimura reached out and gently touched the petals, his fingertips slowly tracing the outline of the inflorescence, a layer of tenderness covering the weariness in his eyes.
"Grandma is so kind. There are always flowers."
"you do not say."
He put the vase back on the bedside table, turned around, picked up the food box wrapped in floral fabric, shook it, and opened it as if presenting a treasure.
"Look, I brought you some delicious food. They are all local desserts that my mother sent from France. Apart from macarons, these are hard to find in Japan."
He opened the food boxes one by one, and exquisite desserts were laid out on the table, their aroma enticing.
"This is Pemgler." Wang Yueling picked up a pastry dessert and patiently introduced it, "The pastry is crispy, and the filling is made with lemon and orange, which is sweet and sour and not greasy at all."
Then, he pointed to another dessert that looked like pudding: "This is Fickrose, which is even more niche. Every brand has a different recipe. My family prefers the orange blossom flavor, which has a very unique aroma."
Yukimura listened quietly, his gaze lingering on the boy's features, his expression gentle. The boy's eyes lit up as he described the desserts, his expression a blend of French sophistication and enthusiasm, like a child sharing a treasure—truly captivating.
"They all look delicious," he said softly, reaching for a piece of Pemgra and taking a small bite.
The delicate fragrance spread in his mouth, and the perfect balance of sweet and sour soothed the fatigue after rehabilitation training. A look of surprise flashed in his eyes: "It's delicious, unlike any dessert I've ever had before."
"Right?" Wang Yueling leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs, and said in an extremely arrogant tone, "Don't you even know who picked it?"
"You picked it?"
"Yes, these are all my favorite foods. Whenever my mom sends me something, I always ask her to include these few things."
Wang Yueling pointed to each dessert in the food box, listing them off as if they were her own treasures. "Macarons are a must, no doubt about it. Pemgler is something my grandmother would always make for me when I was sick as a child. Orange blossom pudding is my mother's favorite; she says it makes her feel better."
He paused, picked up the exquisitely packaged gift box next to him, and presented it to Yukimura with both hands.
"Oh, right, this is a gift from your grandma for your recovery. She didn't tell me what's inside. I've been curious all the way here. Come on, open it and see what it is!"
Yukimura took the gift box, his fingertips touching the soft outer fabric, his movements very gentle.
He gently untied the ribbon and opened the box.
Inside lay a cream-colored shawl, its stitches delicate and light, its texture like layers of feathers, and its breathability excellent; it was clear that a lot of thought had been put into its creation.
When Wang Yueling saw the shawl, a look of realization flashed in her eyes.
No wonder.
A while ago, my grandmother sat in her rocking chair every day knitting this. At the time, he noticed that the color and width didn't seem like it was for him, and he jokingly said, "Grandma, you don't love me anymore."
His grandmother just smiled and patted him on the shoulder without saying anything.
It turns out it was originally made for Yukimura.
"It's... a shawl." Yukimura gently unfolded the shawl, stroking the feather-like patterns, his voice soft. "The pattern is very unique and beautiful."
"Although it's early summer, it's still quite cool in the mornings and evenings."
Wang Yueling stood up, took the shawl from him, and gently draped it over Yukimura's shoulders, adjusting its position for him. "It'll be perfect for you to wear when you go for your rehabilitation training in the morning and evening. Grandma said this kind of feather-woven fabric is more breathable than the gold ingot needlework, so it won't feel stuffy."
He smoothed out the edges of the shawl, pressing his fingers gently against the fine stitches.
"Please thank Grandma for me."
Yukimura looked down at the shawl on his shoulders, his fingertips tracing the patterns, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "I'm so sorry to trouble Grandma every time. Of course, thank you too."
"Why thank me?"
Wang Yueling shifted her gaze to the bouquet of Sacred Heart Lilies on the bedside table, her earlobes burning slightly, but she maintained her nonchalant tone, "It's not like I knitted it."
Thank you for always thinking of me.
After Yukimura finished speaking, he picked up a small spoon and ate the pudding he had never tried before. A shawl was draped over his shoulders, covering the wide collar of his hospital gown and also the hand that had been hidden behind his back.
A breeze stirred outside the window, brushing against the Sacred Heart Lilies on the table and scattering a few very faint wisps of their fragrance.
After chatting for a few more minutes, Mochizuki Ryou got to the point, her tone still light but with a hint of seriousness: "Seiichi, there's something I want to discuss with you."
Yukimura put down his spoon and looked at him.
"I'd like to have Hyotei and Rikkai hold a week-long joint training camp before the Kanto Tournament," Mochizuki Ryo said calmly. "I'd like to hear your opinion."
Yukimura raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes, which quickly turned into a teasing smile. He leaned against the headboard, his shawl slipping down his shoulders slightly before he slowly pulled it back up.
"Ling, you've only been a coach for less than a month, right?"
"Um."
"Are you in such a hurry to challenge Rikkai?"
"That's not right."
Wang Yueling held up a finger and shook it, her expression very serious, but the smugness unique to a chuunibyou (middle school syndrome) teenager was almost impossible to suppress in her eyes.
"I never said I was going to challenge Rikkai University."
"It's about mutual learning, mutual exchange, and common progress. And while I'm at it, let me check if your mighty sword has secretly chipped or worn down while the minister was in the hospital."
He leaned back, crossed his legs, and added another sentence.
"There are still a few weeks until the Kanto Tournament. It's not certain who will be the whetstone and who will be the blade. Maybe my team, which has been training for less than a month, can beat your undefeated champion team to a pulp."
"Looking for your head all over the place?" Yukimura repeated the less-than-elegant phrase, his lips slightly pursed, unable to completely suppress his smile. "That's quite a vivid description."
"Of course, I'm an honest person."
"What you just said was a bit too confident."
"Confidence is one of my best qualities."
Yukimura looked at his smug expression, a slight smile playing on his lips, his violet-blue eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and indulgence.
The boy spoke arrogantly, but he knew perfectly well what he was really up to.
Knowing he was worried about the team while in the hospital, I came up with this idea so he could see the team's training progress through the training camp and not just worry about them alone.
That's just how Mochizuki Ryou is. Even though she did a great deed, she would insist on saying that it was five parts provocation, three parts chuunibyou (a Japanese term for someone who is delusional or immature), and two parts arrogance.
That's why he could never get along with this boy.
"Are you so sure Rikkai needs you as a whetstone?"