Chapter Text
A guy and a girl can be just friends, but at one point or another, they will fall for each other. Maybe temporarily, maybe at the wrong time, maybe too late, maybe forever.
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Ryoma frowned as they walked. And as time continued to pass in that seemingly endless fashion, spotting some random pebble, he kicked it, himself very much irritated.
Behind him, Sakuno cringed, rather, whimpered, at the sharp clanging sound that resonated the instant the same pebble hit a trash bin. "I'm sorry." She mumbled cautiously. "You don't have to bring me anywhere. Really."
The far more refined, polished version of Ryoma, having been much older than when we last saw him, merely threw her a glare over his shoulder. "It's too late for that now, isn't it?" He told her with a bite on his tone. It's too late to back out now. Especially since they've actually dressed up. Since he replaced his comfortable, runoff the mill shirt and shorts with a form-fitting dress shirt and khakis, not to mention those damn loafers that were already chafing his ankles. Honestly, he didn't know if he looked good, or if whatever he had on was worn right, but hell, he was dressed up. And he, Ryoma Echizen, abhored suiting up. To add the fact he did it so willingly for her, with just one look cast his way, incredibly, utterly irked him. He could only fathom why he did it so voluntarily, why he was so easily swayed by her - this lady whose flown all the way from Tokyo just to invite him to her wedding.
Unable to find an answer, he resigned to hotheadedly shooting another glare Sakuno's way. The pretty, petite young woman, on the other hand, was close to breaking down, fearing the beast she'd unknowingly angered in her friend.
They have been walking around the city for nearly an hour, looking for somewhere decent to have dinner since they had no reservations, since Sakuno suddenly sprung out from the blue in front of Ryoma, since the giddy, first time in New York, brunette came up to his apartment room, a-knocking, greeting him with that dazzling smile of hers. Not even her stupid stupid fiancé bothered to warn him. And by all hospitality's sake, oh was he hospitable, he sprung up from his couch, earning a reprimanding cry from Karupin (the old cat just kept refusing to die) and looked into his peephole. He then opened his door, greeting her with nothing less than confusion.
As he was about to usher her in, with a slowly forming smile on his lips, Sakuno was first to speak, saying, suggesting, "Let's go downtown?" in such an ecstatic manner that Ryoma just couldn't say no.
Eventually, it brought them upon such a state.
"Dearie?" An old woman suddenly called out from a dark alleyway. Sakuno turned her head in surprise. And in front of her, Ryoma's face soured.
"Let's go, Ryuzaki." He said irritably.
Sakuno, though, wouldn't budge. And after a split second, she took a few steps towards the old woman before Ryoma caught her arm to stop her - giving her the most incredulous expression he could muster. "Are you daft?" He hissed, turning back to the suspicious old woman in the questionably dark alley, an alley that gave him this ominous feeling that they were being watched from the shadows. Oh, the streets of New York were suspicious all right. "What do you think you're doing?"
"She needs help." Sakuno answers ever so innocently, that Ryoma is unable to keep himself for cursing her small-city-like naivety.
"So you're an expert in English now, are you?" He gritted out at her. "Dearie translates to I need help, does it?"
"Let go, Ryoma-kun." It was Sakuno's turn to frown, sending a scowl his way before tugging her arm off the young man's hold. Ryoma could only follow cautiously behind her as his foolish friend stubbornly approached the old woman in the comfy-looking; brightly-colored dress.
"I need a date for tonight." The woman told Sakuno with a warm wrinkled smile. Ryoma was on guard beside her, arms crossed over his chest, as the old woman rattled on. His eyes were more vigilant now than during his matches. He thought, if he lost his friend's fiancée just a week before their wedding, who knows what the bastard, who actually let loose his bride, would do to him. "My husband's gone ahead," she pointed up to the sky. "And my son is too busy to take me out dancing. If you don't mind, can you lend your handsome companion to a poor old woman?"
At this Sakuno blushed. And Ryoma just rolled his eyes in disbelief. "Hey, old hag," He huffed. "Whatever you're pulling won't work on me at least." He said frankly, pulling Sakuno towards him. "Let's go, Ryuzaki."
Still, Sakuno wouldn't budge. Her eyes were now looking out into something other than the old woman who was tapping her feet to the tune of some unheard song. Following Sakuno's gaze, Ryoma's brows creased further at the sight of an opened door down the dark alley where two old aged couples walked out of, humming to an unknown tune, swaying to an unknown song.
Sakuno, deemed now as the curious cat, took the old lady by the hand and led her slowly to the door, as if an entrance to some mysterious mystical realm. Ryoma's eye twitched as he, yet again, resigned to follow after his friend, himself unknowingly caught by the enchantment as well.
When they reached the door, what greeted them was something Ryoma's never seen before and amidst all his travels. It was as if they were brought back in time. As if they were in a place where the old and wrinkled were young and alive, dancing, swaying, laughing. It wasn't a club, a disco, a retro whatever- it was something else entirely.
"Care to dance with me, young lady?" An old man suddenly bowed, reaching out an opened hand to Sakuno who blushed as the sexaganarian's companions cheered him on.
Still taken by awe, at the resplendent lights, at the warm, entrancing ambience, Ryoma nearly jumped when old women started flocked over to him.
"Aren't you that tennis star?" One of them had said. Soon after, the others laughed and cooed over how handsome he was up in person. "Dance with me, laddie." One of them teased, causing Ryoma's cheeks to flush deeply as the crowd around him grew.
Eventually enough, Ryoma joined Sakuno on the ballroom floor, dancing with the old woman he so skeptically told off earlier on. It didn't seem to have bothered the old woman though. Because here she was, laughing at how easily flustered and stiff Ryoma was compared to her graceful steps. Eventually, after dancing with a number of flattered elders, giving him tips on how to be more in tune with the music and what to do to get the woman he wants, to which he suddenly stared at them in shock, stopping himself from looking if Sakuno was hearing any of this.
As the night went on, as they continued changing partners casually, laughing here and there, with Ryoma finally a little better than he was over an hour ago, he suddenly found Sakuno seated on a chair, her face flushed from all the dancing. Finding an opening, Ryoma turned to his dance partner and politely excused himself. The old woman nodded with a cheeky grin on her face, rooting inwardly for the two love birds; or what seemed to be something close to it.
Not a man of words, Ryoma simply held out his hand in front of Sakuno who in turn looked up to him with wide glistening hazel eyes. They shone and twinkled, dazzling him, placing him in a trance, whispering to him words from a long-forgotten past. With a gentle tug, he led her to the stage filled with happily dancing elders. He wore a small smile on his lips as he glanced at the glittering floor. Raising her hand, he let her lead him as she laughed warmly. He didn't notice the grin on his face as he struggled to complement her footwork. Her laugh seemed mute as it sailed with the full, swinging, reverberating chorus that made their feet skip, that made their feet light in step.
The old couples swaying alongside them were naturals. All seemed born during an age where everyone was a romantic, where everyone was graceful and fully content. For the first time in his life, as he laughed, as Sakuno laughed, as he danced, as Sakuno continued leading him, he realized he was happy, filled even with bliss taken from something other than tennis. And not that he was counting, but this was only Sakuno's first night in New York, with him, alone with him - and only him. Who once had been nervous, anxious, then pissed by her sudden visit was now utterly, foolishly, and irrevocably happy.
He was grinning like a fool now. But in this crowd of quick flurry of movements, of blissfully laughing faces, of sincere romantics, foolishness wasn't alien. Truthfully speaking, maybe all of them were foolish youngsters, enjoying the night dancing, reminiscing the times where life was simple and without the stress people call work and bills. Tonight, he wasn't even Ryoma Echizen. He was just another free soul, spending the night with those just like him, spending the night with the beautiful young lady in his arms, keeping her close, keeping her near.
He liked this place. He mused to himself in a far off thought as he held on Sakuno's hands and gently swayed with her. If he were to be honest, if he were to be truthful, at least to himself, as he breathed in her light sweet scent, as he felt the warmth of her cheek lightly touch his cheek, he'd say he has always been in love with her. With the girl who has stuck with him for more than a decade now, stuck with him through Japan, France, and America.
If he were to be honest to himself at least, he'd never let her go. He'd never let her marry.
The swinging jazz music died down later that night. But even as the light dimmed, even as the room cooled, and even as the people dwindled in number, the pair stood there, swaying with the light music playing amidst the screeching of chairs being pulled up and kept.
"Ryoma-kun." Sakuno had whispered lightly to him that night. Her eyes, bright, glittering, as she looked up at him. Her fingers, cool against his neck. "I think we should leave."
"Hn." Ryoma grunted lightly, effortlessly, still in a daze, still lightheaded, and seeing stars in his partner's hazel eyes. "I guess we should then." He breathes.
"Yes." Sakuno replies. Although instead of stepping away, she closes her eyes and places her head on his chest. A small smile etches its way into the corners of Ryoma's lips and he gently buries his face into the crook of her neck, softly whispering into her ear - as if the most natural thing in the world. "I love you, Sakuno."
And just like that, the scene crumbled. As the music kept playing in that light far away tune, Sakuno and Ryoma were pulled apart, their expressions still serene and their bodies immobile as the hands of fate tore them from one another. The platform they had danced on shattered into piles of wood. The alluring soft lights now flickered and popped dead. And the building vanished from plain sight.