2010 Tokyo, Japan
A crackle overhead roused Mayu. Following it was the pilot's landing announcement and the blinking seat belt light. She propped herself upright and lifted the screen. Outside the oval window and through wisps of clouds, she saw the jagged outlines of the emerald island embedded in the sapphire sea. Eight years later, it was the same vibrant spring that welcomed her back to Tokyo.
"Had a restful sleep?" asked Tezuka, placing his hand atop hers. He had a sheaf of paper on his table and Mayu knew he'd been working to pass time again because he could never sleep on planes.
"Like a rock," answered Mayu with a yawn. "Wish I could lend you some sleep on these long flights."
He smiled. "I'm used to it. Thank you for being considerate." Reaching over, he found her seat belt and said, "You'd better buckle in for a safe landing home."
Home. Mayu gazed out the window. The plane dipped and started its descent. As the layout of Tokyo started to come into sharper clarity, she thought that nothing in the world could've convinced the eighteen-year-old her that she'd call this island nation home. Only when she started packing her belongings did she realize that most things in life arrived unexpectedly.
As the downward momentum accelerated, Mayu remembered the day when she first told her mother about Tezuka over Sunday breakfast.
All of a sudden, leaden silence filled their sunlit parlour in Lyon. Mayu could tell that her mother wasn't particularly delighted by the idea of her daughter getting involved with a Japanese man. Likely, she didn't want Mayu to repeat her own mistakes. After the divorce, her mother believed Japanese men were deceiving creatures: staid and serious on the outside, rotten all the way through. She feared that Tezuka would cheat on Mayu and cause her to suffer like her father once did her. God knew cheating was rampant in Japan. It was the elephant in society nobody talked about.
At the time, they had already been dating for five years. Mayu had taken this time to understand that Tezuka was serious—always was, in fact, from the day they met. Ignoring her mother's resistance, Mayu brought him to Lyon anyway.
Mayu's mother had been wary about meeting Tezuka. She barely greeted him and didn't offer to invite him in. On that first visit, Mayu stayed with him in a hotel because her mother refused to have him in the house.
None of her mother's coldness, however, seemed to faze Tezuka. He continued to visit Lyon with Mayu regularly, bought flowers for their home and sent cards to her mother on every holiday. He was patient about giving her time to understand his character and his honest intentions, so he never tried to force his way inside their home.
A year of these strained interactions, Mayu started finding newspaper clippings of Tezuka's latest victories or the tennis channel turned on in their home. Her mother was paying attention to Tezuka even though she maintained an outward silence. It took another half a year before she finally invited him for a home-cooked dinner. At long last, Tezuka's quiet persistence had instilled trust in her and Mayu's mother was finally giving them her blessings.
The plane reached its gate and cruised to a stop. Lights overhead switched on, waking up the last of the sleepy passengers. No longer steeped in the memories of Europe, Mayu unlatched her seatbelt while Tezuka stood to fetch their carry-on bags. They lined up with the other passengers to disembark and made their way towards customs.
"Anything you'd like for breakfast after we get into the city?" asked Tezuka as they ambled down the arrival hall.
"A traditional Japanese breakfast," she answered without hesitation.
He appeared taken aback. "Really?"
"Of course! It's my welcome home meal. Speaking of which, I want to see our new home." With a mock glare, she said, "You've been keeping it a secret this whole time and won't even give me pictures."
"I wanted to see your reaction in real-time."
Shaking her head, Mayu said, "Well, that poker face of yours does a top-notch job at keeping secrets. I don't have the slightest clue of how it might look. Where is it, anyway?"
"Nakameguro."
"That well-known neighborhood with rows of cherry trees along the canal?"
"The canal's within walking distance." Hailing a taxi on the way out, Tezuka said, "I'll show you."
The cab fought through early morning traffic towards the heart of Tokyo. Once they were out of the city core, roads quieted down and skyscrapers receded to low buildings. In mid-April, spring breeze swept through open windows, carrying with it the sweet scent of life awakening. After passing an urban green space, the river came into view. A canal framed by cherry trees in full bloom flanked the shores of the river, dense branches of flowers overlapping each other to form a pale canopy.
"Stop here please," Tezuka said to the driver. He paid and retrieved their carry-on bags before leading Mayu down the promenade.
Gentle snow of petals fell softly as they walked. They fell against the motionless surface of the river, into their hair and the crease of their clothes. After ten minutes of walking, they turned into a quiet backstreet and towards a quaint, five-story apartment with large balconies and ivy-clung walls.
Their new home was a spacious one-bedroom suite on the top floor. A floor-length window in the living room looked out to the residential streets below. Next to it was a set of soft beige couches. On the opposite wall hung Mayu's photograph of Strasbourg bathed in sunset. Off to the side was the kitchen with polished cupboards and a new, shiny sink, suggesting it was recently redone.
Mayu took off her shoes and walked down the hall. The bedroom had a low bed and a bookshelf already crammed with their book collections from Europe. Two small night tables occupied each side of the bed along with reading lights. She walked up to the windows and looked down to get a view of the canal nearby and the tunnel of cherry trees.
Embracing her from behind, Tezuka asked her quietly, "Do you like it? You haven't said a word."
"Were you expecting me to critique it?" she asked.
He nodded. "I fixed up this place during the few trips I made back here on my own. If anything doesn't feel right, I can change it."
"It's just like you to take care of everything and then say that." Placing a hand over his, she spun around and smiled, "I have nothing to say, except, thank you for creating this perfect home."
He cupped her face with two hands and kissed her on the lips. "It's our home."
***
a/n: It's 8 years later & they're all older.
To all PoT fans: have you ever wondered about how the characters would be when they are older and working in tennis-related professions? I've always wondered what athletes could do outside of the courts. The rest of this story is my speculations, along with the complexity that comes with love~
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Second to None
Fanfiction"I like you, Ohara-san," said Tezuka all of a sudden. "This is not how you should confess to a girl." "I'm sorry. I guess I should've brought something. Maybe flowers." "That's not it." "What should I do?" "You're supposed to ease into it, not tell...
