Chapter Text
Soft sunlight spilled through the bakery windows, casting gentle glows on two figures immersed in the art of confectionery. The delicate aroma of wagashi filled the air. Sakuno meticulously crafted the delicate sweets, her fingers moving deftly from one ingredient to another. The bakery owner watched with pride.
“You’re really good at this, Sakuno,” the bakery owner said, a warm smile spreading across her face.
Sakuno chuckled, her cheeks flushing with warmth. “Thank you, obaa-san. I can’t believe you teach everything to me. It feels unreal.”
The elderly lady sighed, glancing towards a photo of her late husband hanging on the wall. “I have only one son, and he never shared my passion. My granddaughter feels the same. But now, I feel like I can rest in peace." She looked back at Sakuno, enthusiasm sparkling in her eyes. “You have the heart for it, making Japan proud.”
“What are you talking about, obaa-san?” Sakuno asked, tilting her head curiously.
“I’m grateful to teach you everything I know. It fills my heart with joy to see someone so dedicated to keep our beautiful Japanese desserts alive,” she replied, her voice a blend of nostalgia and hope.
Sakuno smiled back, her gratitude palpable. “Thank you for teaching me too, obaa-san. I'm so happy that I got to meet you.”
With a soft laugh, the elder lady handed her a small box adorned with decorative motifs. “Take this to your boyfriend. You’re meeting him after this, right?”
Sakuno felt heat rise in her cheeks, a shy smile spreading across her lips. “Yes, I am.”
“Ah, young love.” obaa-san mused, her eyes misting with memories. “It always reminds me of my late husband.”
After a fond farewell, Sakuno left the bakery, cradling the box of sweets close to her chest. The streets of Tokyo bustled around her, but her heart raced with anticipation as she made her way to the library where Ryoma often spent his time.
Inside the library, a hushed tranquility reigned. Soft whispers floated through the aisles filled with books, while studious students hunched over their homework, lost in their worlds. In a corner, Ryoma sat on a stool, focused intently on organizing the books. He loved the quiet here, a sanctuary from the swirling chaos of life outside.
Suddenly, a voice broke his concentration. “Are you Echizen Ryoma?”
His gaze met that of a middle-aged man who clutched a camera, revealing his identity as a reporter. Ryoma sighed, he preferred to avoid the spotlight. “No, I’m not,” he said flatly, returning to his task.
The reporter scoffed slightly, unconvinced. “I know you are. Can I ask you some questions?”
With a resigned sigh, Ryoma answered, “I don’t have time for that.”
The reporter pushed again, "please. I promise it will be only three qustions."
Ryoma sighed, finally agreeing. "Only three."
“First question: Are you going to play again?” the reporter inquired eagerly.
“I’m still playing,” Ryoma replied, his focus unwavering.
“Is it true? I haven’t seen you in any tournaments from last year.”
“Playing tennis doesn’t mean you have to do it in tournaments,” Ryoma stated simply.
“A fair point." The reporter nodded, couldn't help agreeing.
"Last question." Ryoma said, his eyes still fixated to the shelf.
"Right. Last question: I saw your name in the US Open tournament entry list. Does that mean you’ll start attending tournaments again?” The reporter’s excitement was palpable.
Ryoma paused. "US Open?" He was contemplating, then glanced at the piece of paper the reporter had thrust into his hands. His heart sank slightly as he suddenly remembered his manager, who did asked about the tournament before. “Steve…” he murmured, half under his breath.
As the reporter walked away, Ryoma remained seated, his thoughts swirling around the sudden responsibility of competition. Just then, he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. Startled, he turned to find Sakuno smiling at him, her presence like a comforting breeze.
“Ryoma-kun, finally I found you.” she whispered softly to his ear, sitting beside him. She cupped her both hands on Ryoma’s ear, continue whispering, “I made some dessert today. Let’s eat together later.”
Ryoma returned her smile, the weight of his earlier thoughts lifting slightly. “Sure.”
Outside the library, they strolled side by side, their laughter mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves. Sakuno's heart fluttered as she walked next to Ryoma, feeling warm as they hold hand.
As they approached a quiet bench outside the library, Sakuno opened the wagashi box. “Look at these. Aren’t they pretty?” She exclaimed, carefully putting down the box that contain delicate sweets on the bench between them. The colors were vibrant, pastel shades of pink, green, and cream, each one reflecting her meticulous skill.
Ryoma glanced at the wagashi and nodded, his trademark nonchalance softened by a hint of admiration. “Yeah, they are. You’re very good.”
The compliment made Sakuno beam with joy, her cheeks dusted with a light blush. “Try one.” she encouraged, picking up the box toward him.
With an amused smirk, Ryoma open his mouth slightly.
“What?” Sakuno asked, feeling confused.
“Aren’t you going to feed me?” he teased, his voice dripping with playful mischief.
“Mou… Ryoma-kun, you’re acting spoiled,” Sakuno replied, warmth flooding her face.
“Only toward you,” he said, a smile breaking through his usually stoic demeanor.
She giggled, unable to resist his charm. “Okay, I will feed you.” With trembling hands, she delicately placed one of her creations in his mouth, her fingers brushing his lips. A thrill shot through her, and she wondered if he could hear the thumping of her heart.
Ryoma chewed thoughtfully before nodding. “It’s good,” he said, that faint smile still lingering.
Her eyes sparkled. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I'll feed you too,” he said, reaching the box. He took one and held it in front of her. Their eyes locked, and Sakuno couldn't help but smile, feeling the warmth of the moment enveloping them. She opened her mouth and let him place it gently between her lips, savoring both the sweetness of the treat and their shared laughter.
“You know,” Ryoma started, his gaze shifting to her lips, “your lips look moist.”
Sakuno’s eyes widened. “Oh, it’s the lip balm. Do you want to try it? It can moisten your dry lips.”
“Sure, but apply it from your lips,” he said, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.
Sakuno’s heart raced at the suggestion. “Eh? I don’t want to… We’re outside.”
Before she could protest further, Ryoma stole a quick peck, surprising her into silence. Her shock quickly melted into a sweet giggle that echoed around them, illuminating the serene atmosphere with a sense of youthful exuberance.
As they strolled back, the sun began its descent. Sakuno noticed Ryoma deep in thought and couldn’t help but ask, “What’s wrong, Ryoma-kun?”
“It’s nothing,” he replied, his eyes distant.
“Really? You look like you’re thinking about something important.”
He hesitated, then finally broke the silence. “Do you still remember the wish you said before?”
“The wish?” she echoed, trying to recall the moment.
“Yeah, the one you made that night.”
A hint of warmth spread through her as she recalled the clear night sky and the hope she had expressed. “You mean about wanting to watch you play again?”
“Yeah. Actually,” he said slowly, “I got invited to the US Open.”
Sakuno’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”
He nodded, gauging her reaction. “If I go… do you want to go with me? To the United States?”
“I want to,” she replied without hesitation, her voice filled with conviction.
“Really?” he asked, surprised by her certainty.
Sakuno nodded eagerly. “Yes. It doesn’t feel right to me if you’re not here with me." She blushed, fidgeting her fingers. "I want to go with you wherever you go. I want to be always with you.” She added, feeling shy, but still wanted to say what was in her mind.
Ryoma smiled, a rare, genuine smile that lit up his calm features. For once, he looked cozy with the thought of sharing his journey.
Days later, the sprawling Narita Airport buzzed with excitement, families reuniting, travelers embarking on new adventures. Amidst the whirl of activity, Sakuno stood beside Ryoma, their bags neatly packed, a testament to their shared determination to face whatever lay ahead. Karupin nestled comfortably in his cat bag, oblivious to the impending adventure.
There also her parents and Sumire, who had come to see her off. Also Nanjiro and Rinko.
“This feels so nostalgic,” Sumire remarked wistfully, a soft smile gracing her lips as she glanced toward Nanjiro.
“You better take care of Sakuno-chan,” Nanjiro added with a teasing smirk, earning a playful eye roll from his son.
“I will,” Ryoma assured, glancing sideways at Sakuno, whose heart swelled with anticipation.
Just then, an announcement echoed through the terminal, announcing their flight to New York. Ryoma turned to Sakuno, confidence radiating from him. “Let’s go now.”
With a firm nod, Sakuno hugged everyone tightly, her heart brimming with gratitude and excitement. As they walked toward the gate, hand in hand, their families watched with warm smiles, knowing this was just the beginning of a remarkable chapter.
A month after that, in the bustling heart of New York City, a vibrant banner hung outside the famed tennis courts, proclaiming Ryoma's triumphant victory at the US Open. The colors of the banner fluttered in the cool autumn breeze.
Ryoma and Sakuno had settled into their rhythm, staying together in the apartment adorned with remnants of Ryoma’s agile past and Sakuno’s warm touches. The morning light filtered through the window, painting the kitchen in a soft golden hue.
As Sakuno carefully piped the whipping cream onto the cake, she heard the rustle of the door and felt the warmth of his presence behind her. “Good morning, Ryoma-kun,” she chirped, turning briefly to share a smile.
“Morning. You woke up early today,” he replied, his voice low and soothing.
“Yes,” she beamed, “there were many online orders since yesterday. So I need to finish this quickly.”
Ryoma moved closer, wrapping his arms around her waist, offering a sense of security as they both faced the task at hand. “I’ll help you,” he said, maneuvering his hands over hers, guiding their shared effort as they whipped the cream together.
Sakuno giggled, feeling a warmth seep into her cheeks. “Ryoma-kun, I can’t focus.” But there was joy in her work, a bubbling enthusiasm that made every moment spent together feel precious.
Their laughter echoed softly in the cozy apartment, where every corner held echoes of their shared past—tennis tournaments watched together, late-night chatting sessions, and dreams whispered under starlit skies. As they completed the cake, Sakuno felt a sense of accomplishment. She packaged it carefully into a box, ready for delivery to the customer.
After a while, Sakuno stood at the customer's doorstep, a smile adorning her face when she handed over the masterpiece. “Thank you.” she exclaimed to the customer, who went in with the cake cradled carefully in their arms. The thrill of seeing her work appreciated made her heart swell.
Returning to Ryoma and Karupin, she felt buoyed by the small triumphs of the day and the comfort of their togetherness. Ryoma, with his tennis bag slung over his shoulder, looked back at her, his expression warm and inviting. They already promised to go play tennis together at the street tennis court.
“Let’s go,” he said, his tone imbued with an eagerness that mirrored her own.
“Okay!” Sakuno replied, her heart fluttering as she glanced at her red racket in her tote bag. She couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across her face as she glanced at him, at the way sunlight danced over his features. In that moment, she whispered softly, “I feel very happy.”
To her surprise, Ryoma paused, turning slightly and meeting her gaze with a smile that illuminated his usually stoic demeanor. The world seemed to fade away, and they stood suspended in time. In that instant, the red thread between them shimmered brighter, weaving tales of their shared past and the dreams of a future yet to unfold.
Though they had weathered distance and uncertainty, that ethereal connection remained unbroken, glowing vibrantly even in the darkest moments. Ryoma's glance held the promise of unwavering loyalty, a silent vow that even when miles apart, their bond would never fray.
The End