.tres.
There was warmth in the hotel lobby that he immediately missed when he stepped out into the cold winter air of Fukuoka, Japan. Javier considered turning around and retreating to his bedroom for safety and warmth. For one, he didn't know in which direction to go and he also wasn't sure if he could figure out his way back if he went anywhere.
But the footballer quickly made up his mind and took a right.
His attempts to read the street signs were futile as the ones that were not in Japanese were in English. The English ones he could read. Understanding them was another problem. What good would it make him if he didn't know where he was going anyway?
He walked in the same direction, keeping straight ahead after taking that right path on the sidewalk so as to ensure he would know how to return and he eventually he found himself stepping on sand. The air smelled of sea water and the sounds of waves crashing on the shore filled his ears along with the singing of sea gulls.
Javier was at the beach.
When he was growing up in Guadalajara, he hardly ever went to the beach. Football took up much of his childhood and he never had time to visit the ocean. He didn't live close to the coast anyway. And with his busy schedule, it was never something on his mind. Of course he liked the idea of being there and had even spent some time at the beach when he was in Brazil for the world cup, but it was something he took for granted. When he lived in England, he also didn't live on the coast. Only on this occasion, while playing for Manchester United, it was always too cold to go to the beach. And now in Madrid, he lived in the capital, right in the middle of the country. The beach was as equally far from him in all directions in the Peninsula Iberica, or the Iberian Peninsula.
The Mexican footballer removed his shoes from his feet to feel the sand beneath him. When his feet felt the cold sand beneath his feet, he was suddenly reminded of his beloved Mexico. How he missed Guadalajara, the town where he was born, grew up, and where he started out as a professional footballer with Chivas. Four years away from home felt like an eternity to him now and he missed it so much that he often found himself connecting the most irrelevant things to his home country.
On this instance it was the wet sand.
Wet.
Water.
Guadalajara literally translated into river of stones.
He walked along the edge of the beach by himself, just out of reach of the water. Since it was a cold day, there weren't many people out.
But he knew what it was the moment he heard it.
In the distance, though still as clear as day, he heard a song. The familiar trumpet, violin, and guitar sounds of the song that represented his country most dearly. The voices bringing the beautiful lyrics to life for his ears to enjoy. It was a sound that took him back, miles across the ocean, and certainly made him happy. Javier wondered for a moment if he was imagining things.
The music continued and soon he was sure it was real. His feet carried him in the direction of the familiar sound, his eyes seeking to find where it came from. Perhaps there were people on the beach, Mexicans like him, who he could reminisce with about his country. They would understand him, they were like him after all. And most importantly, they would surely accept him.
As he passed a small dune, he was able to see a girl in the distance. She was sat on a beach towel in the sand, facing away from Javier, with her dark hair cascading down her back. Next to her was a small radio with her phone connected to it. A small smile touched his lips as he thought that maybe he wasn't alone in this foreign country. One girl from Mexico was as good to him as a hundred Mexican people in Japan at that point. He just wanted someone to relate to when he was most feeling down in his football career.
Maybe there was someone who understood him. Maybe she would understand him.
He decided to approach her and cut the distance between them with hurried and excited strides. The music got louder with every step he took in her direction.
De la sierra morena...The song continued.
"Hola..." The young footballer called out nervously.
And he was taken completely by surprise when the girl turned in his direction, startled by the sound of his voice.
Javier couldn't understand what he was seeing.
"Kon'nichiwa." The young woman greeted with a hesitant smile when she was sure the handsome young man was talking to her.
But Javier was still in shock,
Because she was Japanese.
-
yaaaaas. a new chapter for this story. i hope you all like it.
i know there isn't much explanation as to why she was listening to 'cielito lindo', but that will be explained in the next chapter most likely. so don't worry my lovelies.
thank you so much for reading. i love you.
-clary xx
