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the gong sounded.

      "Enough for today! Are you all right? That last one was a rough one. But he did well, don't you think, Sahara?"

      "Yeah, and his punches are pretty strong. I could duck most of them, but he got a few in."

      "Do you still want to leave basketball and join us, or have you had enough? Maybe you have, huh?"

      Tatsuya was too exhausted to say much. His face, his chest, and his shoulders all felt swollen. Finally he muttered, "It's interesting, this boxing."

      "You're a bad boxer! Look at your face—big as a basketball!" said someone.

      "Eda, put a cold patch on Tatsuya's eye, will you?" said Sahara.

      And so he joined the boxing club. With Tatsuya's letter of resignation in hand, the basketball manager said, "Too bad he's got to quit now when we've trained him this far." However, he admitted later that Tatsuya might make a good boxer as he had more drive than any of the others on the team.

      He concentrated on his boxing, loving the excitement of the fights. He also liked the tense feeling he had when he fought and the feeling of being on his own in the ring.

      In the late autumn, since there were only a few featherweights competing that year, he was picked to fight as a light featherweight in the All-Japan College Boxing Tournament. As a result of an unlucky draw, his first match was against the previous year's champion.

      "Still, the tougher the opponent, the better the fight," he said smilingly to the club members who showed anxiety. "It may not be interesting for the spectators, but it's more exciting for me. Can't tell the winner until it's finished."

      "Your opponent has a particularly strong punch, so try and fight at a distance and gain points. You have a longer reach than he has," the coach advised.

      During the fight Tatsuya only followed the advice for the first round. He had received two nasty blows at the end of the first. He began the second round in high spirits and went on springing around the ring. But Eda was worried. It was only a three-round fight, and in the third round Tatsuya received a fierce punch which cut the corner of his left eye. The cut started to bleed, and the cold-blooded crowd cheered louder. By the final gong Tatsuya was a popular fighter. He lost the match but gained points among the spectators.

      The next day the newspapers described him as an up and coming boxer with stamina and a hard punch. His fight was considered the most impressive of the feather-weights.

      A few days later Tatsuya was in a match at Yokohama. He was waiting in the gym dressing room when a bouquet of flowers was brought in to him. There was an unsigned card which read only: "To Tatsuya—Fight your best!"

      His friends jeered, "Good idea to have your flowers sent beforehand. You might not be able to smell them with a broken nose."

      "Won't you please win for me, Tatsu-baby!" said one of his friends, imitating a girl's voice.

      "I wonder who sent them?"

      "Don't you have any idea?"

      "No, no idea at all!"

      Once he was in the ring Tatsuya picked out in the crowd the three girls he had met recently. They were sitting ostentatiously in the third row. All were gaily dressed, which made them stand out, and Eiko was wearing a kimono.

      "Wearing a kimono at this place like she was going blossom-viewing!" said Tatsuya.

      Eda winked at him. "That's her, isn't it?"

      When the referee called out his name, the three girls shouted it again in unison. It was a completely new experience for Tatsuya. He frowned and felt rather annoyed, but acknowledged their support with a wave of his hand.

      He outboxed his opponent easily, with the result that the match was a dull one. Each time Tatsuya got in a blow or avoided the other's punches, he heard Eiko's scream of encouragement. Her voice spurred him on and put him in more of a fighting mood than was really necessary. Sitting in his corner, he became conscious of the spectators for the first time in his career. He began to look like a card player worried about a bystander. The end came in the second round, but as his opponent fell, he tried to steady himself by grabbing at Tatsuya's head, opening the old cut over his eye.

      The referee separated them and announced a TKO and a victory for Tatsuya. Tatsuya stood and watched his opponent for a moment, at the same time putting his hand unconsciously on the injured eye, which was now swimming in blood. Eda shouted at him not to touch it. Tatsuya got out under the ropes with one eye closed. He heard Eiko and the other girls call out his name. He tried to smile in their direction.

      After first aid, he changed and left with Eda for the hospital before the others. He found Eiko and her friends waiting for him outside the main entrance.

      "Are you badly hurt?" Eiko asked him.

      "No, he just opened up an old cut," said Tatsuya.

      "You're sure you're all right?"

      "Yes, but I'm afraid I can't go out with you today. Got to go to the hospital."

      "Then I'll give you a lift in my car," she said quickly. "It's parked just around the corner. Which hospital is it?"

      "Good," said Eda who accepted the offer before Tatsuya could answer. "If it's really all right, we'd appreciate it. Hop in, Tatsuya. I've still got a lot to do here."

      Eiko unlocked the car and opened a rear door. "You'd better lie down in the back," she said.

      "No, I'm all right. But are you sure you can drive in a kimono?"

      "Yes, of course I can!"

      He sat in the front, and the other two in the back. Eiko started the car and set off for the hospital.

      "Thanks for the flowers," said Tatsuya suddenly, without looking at Eiko. "But I wish you girls wouldn't make so much noise during the fight. I don't like it—it makes me nervous."

      "Why, how can you accuse us of making noise?" said Eiko, and the three girls laughed.

      "Tatsuya, you're kind of touchy, aren't you?" said Eiko after a while. "You didn't look like that type at all the other day."

      "Who, me? You've got me all wrong. I couldn't be impudent with you," he replied.

      The previous Saturday, five days before, he and his friends had gone into town dressed in their best clothes, as they often did on weekends. Between them they could only raise eight thousand yen, which was not enough for what they wanted. In the end they decided to try and pick up some respectable girls instead of spending their money on bar hostesses. Rather than ask girls they already knew, they would pick up the first girls that came along.

      But no one wanted to make the first approach. They were usually much bolder and more "men-of-the-world" than their ages would indicate when it came to prostitutes and hostesses, but in this case they were all a little hesitant. In the end they drew lots by picking out thousand-yen notes and comparing the serial numbers. Tatsuya and Nishimura had the lowest numbers.

      They were both very experienced with women and had highly developed tastes, but in spite of this, they had to walk along the main street and down a side street before they could work up enough courage. Finally at a milliner's on Namiki Avenue, Nishimura spotted three girls, all about the same age and all smartly dressed.

      "Let's have a look at them from the front and see what they're like," he suggested.

      When the girls came out of the shop, he sized them up quickly. He recognized in a moment that they all had clear-cut features. One of them had unusual eyes. Their noses looked alike, and someone remarked, "They're probably plastic surgery specials'."

      Sahara noticed that one girl was trying to hail a cab and laid claim to her.

      "If you guys let her go, it's no drinks for you tonight," he said.

      The girls walked towards the main street in search of a taxi and Nishimura and Tatsuya ran after them, but as they drew close Nishimura suddenly stopped.

      "Your

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