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1.
May 2027 - Argentina
“There's a strange man at the door,” Mari whispers into the phone.
Iwa-jichan laughs. “It’s alright, he’s a friend of Papa’s. And mine.”
Mari clutches Zumi close to her chest as she steps out of the hall and further into the living room. The little hedgehog always fills her with confidence when she’s scared or nervous, gives her something to put on a brave face for, to protect. She knows how to put on faces.
And read them.
Papa’s face is away from her, but his voice is strained as he speaks to the man on the porch. He doesn’t sound quite like he’s talking to a friend. She trusts Iwa-jichan, but he isn’t here , he can’t see , the way Papa’s shoulders are tense, the way his hands tremble as he points at the stranger.
She doesn’t like it.
“Papa?”
His shoulders ease as he turns back towards her, relaxed, not nervous. It’s ok.
“Oh,” the strange man sighs, and it’s soft and warm like his hair. “That explains a lot.”
“Mari, are you okay? Do you want me to talk to Papa for you?” Iwa-jichan is still with her, Zumi’s paw is comforting in her hand.
Papa invites the man, his friend?, inside. “C’mon mija, let’s get you ready for bed.” He ushers her back towards her room and takes his phone back. She glances back once more, not sure what to make of leaving a stranger alone in the house. He doesn’t seem scary, though.
“You sent Shouyou to visit?” Papa is hissing at Iwa-jichan into the phone. He took it off video chat so she can’t hear his reply; she just scurries ahead to put the rest of her dolls away. She doesn’t even spare a thought for the gymwear she’d ripped off of them in her earlier anger as she tucks it in beside the dolls.
“Say goodnight to Iwa-jichan,” Papa tells her. She does and he hangs up, then helps her brush her hair while she brushes her teeth.
Iwa-jichan said the man is a friend. Papa seemed mad that Iwa-jichan “sent Shouyou to visit.” But he also smiled at the man when he invited him inside and offered him their leftovers. It’s very confusing.
Argentina had been very confusing when she first moved here five months ago after the start of the new year. It’s still confusing. The language is different from oba-san’s and the food is different and the weather is all backwards. She’s still getting used to that. Her birthday was just a few weeks ago, but the weather is getting cooler, not warmer.
Very confusing.
But there are things that are the same. She has friends, and the neighbor aunties and abuelas, Argentina’s oba-san’s, all look out for her just like her oba-san’s back in Japan. Papa still makes her favorite Japanese dishes more often than not. She’s adjusting.
She can probably adjust to this new confusion, too, even if the feeling isn’t very nice right now. She’ll just have to get to the bottom of it.
“Papa,” she asks as he tucks her in. “Who is that man?”
His shoulders had been stiff the whole time he brushed her hair, like when he thinks too much, like when he answered the door. They relax again now with the reminder, and his fingers gently push her bangs away from her face. “He’s a friend from home. I haven’t seen him in a while, so I was surprised.” His smile is different from the smiles she’s used to, but it’s not a bad smile.
“Is he going to stay here?” she asks.
“For tonight, at least. We’ll have to see after that.”
If they had a guest to entertain, then… “Does this mean we’re not going shopping tomorrow?” She hadn’t forgotten his promise even though she hadn’t wanted to talk to him after school today. Was he going to punish her for that by not taking her shopping?
Her worries wash away when he laughs and kisses her forehead. “Of course we’re going. I promised, didn't I?” Yes. He had. And he always kept his promises. “Tell you what,” he says. “If you go to sleep now, after we go shopping tomorrow, we’ll get gelato for dinner.”
Now that is something to look forward to. She wiggles further under her blankets, shifting her head deeper into her pillow and closing her eyes so that hopefully she will fall asleep faster. “Night, Papa!”
She feels his lips against her temple again. “Night, baby girl. Love you.”
“Love you too,” she says around a yawn. Of all the things she’s been adjusting to since moving to Argentina, Papa being there to tuck her in every night and tell her he loves her is one of her favorites.
She drifts off to sleep with that thought warming her chest.
Her sleep is restless, though, and she wakes up before Papa comes in to get her like he usually does. She hears some soft clanging in the kitchen and wanders out, assuming he is already making breakfast.
Someone is in the kitchen making breakfast, but it’s not Papa.
The stranger, Shouyou, stands in front of the counter with a mixing bowl and a bag of flour at his side. He smiles when he sees her, and crouches down so he’s at eye level with her. He isn’t nearly as tall as Papa, but he is an adult, even if his face looks young. “Good morning, Marisol.” He speaks in heavily accented Spanish, similar to the way Iwa-jichan and Kanae oba-chan do, but she was pretty sure he spoke Japanese at the door last night.
“Mornin,” she replies in Japanese, because she’s not quite awake and she’s still adjusting to speaking Spanish more often than Japanese. “Iwa-jichan says you’re Papa’s friend.”
He nods, his bright orange hair sticking all up on one side. He offers her his hand. “My name is Shouyou Hinata. I grew up in Japan just like your Papa, but now I live just across the border in Brazil.”
She shakes his hand and also offers a small bow. Bowing is proper greeting in Japan, but people in South America don’t really bow. It’s confusing. He’s from both though, so she isn’t sure how she should address him. “Sho…tio?”
His smile grows even brighter, shrinking his eyes to crescents. It’s a very nice smile. “I like that. Do you prefer Marisol or Mari-chan?”
Mari considers this. The honorific makes more sense if they’re going to be conversing in Japanese, but she is growing accustomed to the sound of her full name too. But, if she’s going to call him Sho-tío, she thinks it would be best for him to call her Mari-chan. She tells him as much and he nods again.
“Well then, Mari-chan, do you want to help me make pancakes for breakfast to surprise your Papa?” He leans in and drops his voice low, like he’s sharing a secret. “I know how to make them taste really, really, super extra yummy.”
The secret isn’t actually an ingredient, but how you cook them. Sho-tío asks if they have any cookie cutters and she helps him dig out the bunny rabbit and kitty cat cookie cutters Oba-san had left for Papa to make her cookies for her birthday. She sits on the counter while Sho-tío mixes the batter, all the while humming and smiling. She asks him what the song is and he says it’s something he learned in his new country. The words are foreign but somewhat familiar, and his voice is light and warm and Mari can’t help but giggle as she drops the berries into the batter.
Eventually, Papa joins them and teases them for making breakfast for him. He gives her a morning kiss and then turns to Sho-tío. His cheeks turn pink and Mari worries he’s gotten too close to the stove, even though she’s been sitting right next to it and she’s not too warm.
Sho-tío stays with them for two weeks, and it reminds Mari of living with Oba-san and Kanae-obachan and Yuki-san. Living with a family. There are other things, too, with Papa and Sho-tío that make her think of Kanae and Yuki. The way they work together to help her get ready for school. The way they tuck her in bed at night. The way they encourage her to talk through her feelings. Sho-tío seemed better at that than Papa did, but once he showed him how, and Papa reassured her how much he loved her more than volleyball, it became easier to tell him everything that crossed her mind.
Suddenly, talking to Papa isn’t so confusing anymore.
And now that she doesn’t have to worry about her place in his heart, it frees her up to notice more things. Like the way Papa and Sho-tío tease each other. How they lean into each other more when they’re doing the dishes or folding laundry or helping her get ready for bed. She sees them dance together when they think she’s playing alone in her room.
It’s only two weeks, but Papa smiles so much. Mari loves when Papa smiles and she doesn’t want that smile to go away when Sho-tío leaves. She loves Sho-tío’s pancakes and silly songs and volleyball lessons. She doesn’t want him to go.
But their two weeks come to an end.
They drive Sho-tío to the airport and Mari doesn’t look when Papa hugs him goodbye.
He won’t cry, so she does.
2.
July 2027 - Argentina
The next time Sho-tío visits is for Papa’s birthday.
Mari is excited because it’s been almost two whole months since his first visit. He and Papa talk almost as often as Papa talks to Iwa-jichan, though, and he always spends part of the conversation talking to her. He sends pictures of the places he plays in, and it always makes her smile.
She asks Papa if he played in some of those places, too.
Papa seems happy when she talks about volleyball. Sometimes she still hears a little voice in the back of her head that tells her it’s because he still loves volleyball more than her, but then she remembers what Sho-tío told her and the voice goes away. Papa loves her most of all, but he also loves volleyball, and it makes him happy. She wants to love the things he loves. She wants to share everything with Papa.
He tells her about all the different cities in the world he played in before she was born. About the rivals who became friends and the friends who became rivals. He shows her pictures. Sho-tío is in a lot of them. Papa looks happy.
She can’t wait for Sho-tío to get here.
It’s not that Papa is unhappy with just her. It’s just a different kind of happy than when he was with Sho-tío those two weeks he was here, or in the pictures in Rio and Japan and France, or even when they talk on the phone. She wants to see all the ways Papa can be happy.
Plus Sho-tío is just really fun and it’ll be nice to have another adult around to talk to when Papa is being annoying. They’ve been getting along a lot better after Sho-tío’s visit, but they still have bad days. Though, even if he wasn’t coming, she would have Iwa-jichan to help. Sometimes Papa could be a handful and Iwa-jichan knew how to handle him.
Sho-tío was spending the whole week with them, though, and he arrived on the Sunday before Papa’s birthday. Iwa-jichan wasn’t coming until Thursday so she had four whole days with Papa and Sho-tío all to herself.
Mari is on winter break from school, so they spend the mornings making breakfast together just like the last time Sho-tío visited, with one minor exception. Usually Papa or Sho-tío wake her up, but on the morning of Papa’s birthday, Mari wakes up before both of them. She wants to surprise Papa like the first time Sho-tío visited, and she quietly tip-toes down the hall to the living room to wake him up.
Except he isn’t on the couch where she expects. The blanket is folded neatly on the arm, but it doesn’t look as if anyone slept there. For a moment, Mari panics, wondering if Sho-tío had decided not to stay after all. She doesn’t know why he would leave after only one night, but maybe she had been too noisy and excited and he wanted to go home.
His shoes are still by the door, though, so she breathes a sigh of relief. He must be somewhere else in the apartment.
Well, she doesn’t need his help to start the coffeemaker. Papa showed her how to do that when she said she wanted to help him one morning. Usually he supervises, but she’s done it enough times now she thinks it will be a nice birthday surprise if she brings his coffee to him when he wakes up.
She pulls out her step stool and climbs onto the counter to reach the coffee filters. The coffee grounds are in a bag right next to the pot, so once she gets the filters down, she hops off the counter and back onto her stool. It wobbles a little and she swallows a yelp. Once all four feet are stable, she pulls the bag of grounds to herself and scoops the coffee into the filter. She hums as she counts the scoops. One. Two. Three. Four. She takes the carafe over to the sink and drags the step stool with her so she can reach the faucet to fill it. She only spills a little as she moves back over to the pot, and then only a little more on the counter when she pours the water into the reservoir. Some of it also drips into the grounds, but that’s ok. It’s all gotta go through there eventually. Papa told her so.
With triumphant hands on her hips, she watches the light click on as the pot starts brewing. She likes watching the water drip down into the pot, the first few drops sizzling as they hit the bottom of the empty carafe. She doesn’t know why Papa likes it so much, it smells funny and tastes awful, but he says it helps him get his day started. It’s his birthday, so he really needs to get it started.
The door at the end of the hall opens and she hears heavy footfalls as Papa and Sho-tío round the corner in their pajamas. Papa looks scared, but Sho-tío ducks behind him with a laugh.
The sound makes Papa relax a bit. “Mari, sweetheart, what are you doing?”
She hops down from the stool-he takes a half step forward as if to catch her, which is silly because she’s not close enough for that-and runs to hug him. “I wanted to make breakfast as a surprise for Papa’s birthday!” she exclaims as he scoops her up. “I couldn’t find Sho-tío to help so I just made coffee instead.”
“I could smell it!” He brushes his nose against her cheek, making her giggle. “Thank you, baby girl, you know I can’t start my day without it.”
She nods, kissing his cheek and wrapping her arms around his neck. She frowns at Sho-tío over his shoulder. “Were you just hiding?”
He laughs, reaching out a hand to ruffle her hair and make it as messy as his and Papa’s. “I was with your Papa.”
“You had a sleepover?!” she gasps.
Papa buries his face in her back and groans. “Shouyou.”
“We did!” He pokes Papa in the side with a teasing curl to his lips.
Mari struggles to push away from Papa so she can see his face. “I want to have a sleepover with Sho-tío too!”
“Maybe later this week.” Sho-tío’s grin spreads as he raises himself up on his toes to kiss her on the opposite cheek Papa had. “When Iwa-jichan is here. That sounds fun, doesn’t it?”
“We can build a fort!” Mari declares. “We should practice before Iwa-jichan comes! He’ll be so surprised!”
“That sounds like a great idea, Mari-chan.” Sho-tío hooks his chin over Papa’s shoulder. “Doesn’t that sound like a great idea, Papa?”
Papa sighs and it sounds like the sigh he makes when he doesn’t really want to do something but is going to anyway because he loves her and wants her to be happy. “Can I at least have my coffee before you two hooligans destroy my apartment?”
Mari throws her hands up in triumph and wriggles out of Papa’s hold. “I’ll go get the extra pillows from the closet!”
They build the best blanket fort ever that morning and spend the afternoon watching Papa’s favorite alien movies from when he was a kid. It is his birthday, after all. Sho-tío treats them to dinner out in the city and they wander the park after. It’s brisk, but the lights are pretty and it feels magical. Mari loves it because, sometimes, when she looks back at them, they’re holding hands, or Papa has his arm around Sho-tío’s shoulder, or they're just smiling at each other.
Papa’s ears always turn red when he sees her looking at them, but Sho-tío just laughs and squeezes his hand or leans into his side to bring the red to his cheeks instead. Mari has never seen anyone embarrass Papa so much, and if he was actually upset she would be too, but underneath it all is joy. There’s a teasing quality to it that she is all too familiar with on the playground at school.
An idea starts to form itself in her head, a vision of future birthdays and holidays and everydays where she and Papa aren’t alone anymore. Where dinner is for three and there are two hands to hold when they go shopping and one small, happy, family. It’s too fresh and new to say anything about that, though, so she’ll just tuck it in her toy chest with all her other wishes and dreams.
When Iwa-jichan finally gets there, she excitedly tells him about the birthday sleepover and how they’re gonna have one, too, all of them! They practiced building the fort and got more blankets and pillows to fit everyone! Iwa-jichan scolds Papa even as he offers his fist to Sho-tío to tap with his own. Papa gets flustered all over again and everyone laughs.
There’s so much warmth and happiness with everyone in their tiny apartment. They have their big group sleepover in the pillow fort on Friday. They play lots of games and eat lots of good food and take Iwa-jichan out on the city just like they do with Sho-tío.
Mari thinks winter break might be her new favorite time of the year. She wishes it didn’t have to end, but on Sunday both Iwa-jichan and Sho-tío have to leave. There are hugs and kisses and no small amount of tears from Mari as they say goodbye. There are promises to call as soon as they get home, Sho-tío later tonight, Iwa-jichan not until tomorrow, and further assurances that they will see her again before she knows it.
It’s not that, she wants to tell them. She is going to miss them, but she’s crying for Papa’s sake. This week is the happiest she’s ever seen him and she wants to hold onto that forever. But she doesn’t know how to articulate all of these feelings into words so she just cries and tells them not to go even though she knows they have to.
Later that afternoon, Mari helps Papa fold and put away the extra blankets. They’re both too quiet. The apartment is too quiet. It feels empty without her uncles.
“Maybe I should find us a bigger house,” Papa says, sudden but quiet, like he didn’t mean to say it out loud. When he sees her staring at him and realizes it, he explains. “So we have more room for company someday.”
She thinks about the small dream in her chest of the family dinners and bedtime kisses and expands it to a new home. One with room for all her family, and maybe a yard, like Oba-san’s house. She doesn’t think she wants to move again so soon. She likes her school, her friends, even the abuelas down the hall. But Papa had said “someday” not “right now” and so she takes his hand and squeezes it and allows herself to dream of someday.
3.
December 2027 - Argentina
Winter gives way to spring and then warms further into summer. Before she realizes it, her first year of school in Argentina is over and it’s time for Christmas and New Year’s celebrations. According to her friends at school, Christmas is a day to spend with family and eat lots of food and stay up late. They also go to something called “church” that she doesn’t really understand, though Papa tries to explain to her that it’s sort of like visiting the shrine on New Year’s. They pray to the gods, or in their case only one god, wishing for happiness and expressing gratefulness.
The nice abuela on the first floor of their building invites them to spend the holiday with her and her family. Marisol likes her. She often spends her afternoons there while Papa is at work, improving her spanish and learning how to cook and listening to abuelita’s stories. They don’t join her for church, but they do bring a dish to share for dinner and Mari spends the evening playing with the other grandkids in the courtyard after they eat. The whole time she talks animatedly about her excitement that her uncle is coming to spend New Year’s with them.
She talks to Sho-tío on the phone a few times a week now, more when he’s in Brazil than when he’s in Japan, and she misses him even more when he’s back there and the time difference makes it harder to coordinate. He had a holiday charity tournament to play in but he promised he would be back in South America to ring in the new year.
When his flight arrives on the 30th, Mari can barely contain herself when he walks out of his terminal. Papa scolds her for letting go of his hand in such a crowded place, but his heart clearly isn’t in the admonishment when his smile falls on Sho-tío as he scoops her up in his waiting arms. He helps carry Sho-tío’s luggage instead, “since my hands are full,” he teases.
The whole ride home and the rest of the night she tells him all about Christmas and how summer break has been so far and the practice she’s had with volleyball and asks if they can go to the park and can she set for him because Papa has been teaching her how. She speaks all through dinner and while they clean up and when they’re having drinks on the balcony and until her eyes start to droop and Japanese slips in and Sho-tío helps Papa put her to bed.
On New Year’s Eve they spend the morning playing volleyball in the park and then have a big lunch back at home. They pile together in Papa’s bed for a nap in the afternoon, so that they can stay up late to celebrate the New Year, and Mari is almost too giddy to sleep.
Almost.
It’s warm and she’s tired from volleyball and she has Papa on one side of her and Sho-tío on the other and she feels so comfortable and safe that she dozes off anyway.
They get dinner in the city and make their way to a park on the river to find a spot to watch the fireworks. Despite the post-lunch nap, she’s still tired from all the excitement of the last few days and she yawns as she sits in Papa’s lap. The fireworks are loud and pretty, but even those start to fade into the background as her eyelids droop.
Papa’s chest is warm behind her back and Sho-tío’s hand rubs gentle circles on her legs. The movement is soothing and she’s comfortable and safe here too. Her eyes close but she doesn’t quite drift off to sleep this time. She just feels the booms as they rattle in her chest, sees the colors of them from behind her eyelids, and enjoys the solid grounding presence of Papa’s arms around her.
At one point she feels him shift just slightly. He leans towards Sho-tío and she thinks she feels Sho-tío lean towards him too. There’s a soft smacking sound, barely audible over the fireworks, but it makes her heart rattle with the same excitement.
She opens her eyes slowly, afraid she imagined it. Sho-tío’s free hand is on Papa’s cheek, and they have their foreheads together, happy smiles on both their lips. It reminds her of her grandparents. Of Kanae-obachan and Yuki-san. Of Iwa-jichan and Suga-san.
She sits up and they pull apart, laughter on Sho-tío’s lips and embarrassment on Papa’s cheeks. She doesn't understand why. He always looks at Sho-tío the same way he looks at her. The same way he looks at volleyball. He never seems embarrassed about them.
Maybe he doesn’t even know it.
She doesn’t want to scare him away from the idea, though. She loves Sho-tío and she’s pretty sure Sho-tío loves them, too. She may only be 5 and three quarters, but they’ve taught her what love is and she’s always had it, even back in Japan with her aunt and uncles, so she thinks she knows it when she sees it.
Until Papa is ready, she won’t say anything about it. Instead, she decides to distract him by demanding attention for herself. She doesn’t often act selfishly, but Sho-tío lets her get away with a lot and she loves when Papa indulges her too.
“I want kisses too!” she cries.
Papa turns redder than the fireworks above as Sho-tío laughs. “Of course!” He pulls her close and blows a raspberry on her cheek. “Happy New Year, Mari-chan!”
She shrieks and tries to lean away from him, but Papa catches her other cheek with a wet kiss of his own. “Happy New Year, baby girl.”
She scrubs her face as they laugh, but a smile tugs her own lips.
This is going to be a good year.
4.
April 2028 - Argentina
Her 6th birthday is her favorite so far.
In Japan, birthdays meant Papa was home to see her. He was gone a lot, training and playing abroad, calling her every day while he was gone, but whenever he didn’t have games or practice, he was there. Her birthday was the one exception. He never missed that, even if he had a game.
Last year was her first birthday away from Japan and it was weird. She had Papa as usual, and Oba-san too, but she was in a new country, speaking a different language than she had grown up hearing most. Papa and Kanae-obachan and Iwa-jichan had taught her both languages, so Spanish wasn’t totally unfamiliar to her, but at that time it still felt strange to speak more Spanish than Japanese. Especially since Oba-san wasn’t as good at it as her aunt and uncle. It didn’t help that it was Oba-san’s last week in the country before she returned to Japan, leaving Marisol and Papa to learn to live together on their own. And that had almost been a disaster until Sho-tío showed up.
This year, though, she’ll get to spend it with Sho-tío. It’s the first time since New Year’s that he’ll be back and he’s only staying for the weekend, but it’s going to be the best birthday ever.
She has some friends over for lunch and Papa makes cupcakes for dessert after presents. Sho-tío keeps everyone entertained with ball tricks and even teaches them how to do some of them.
“Careful!” Papa hollers from the kitchen as Sho-tío almost drops the ball. “At least take it outside,” he huffs. “Honestly, who’s the six year old here?”
“Me!” Mari proclaims with glee, even though she knew he wasn’t actually looking for an answer.
He ruffles her hair anyway, smiling at her and pointing at Sho-tío. “Can I trust you to keep him out of trouble?”
“Hey!” Sho-tío cackles as he ushers the other kids outside.
“I can do it, Papa! We’ll behave!”
They spend the rest of the afternoon bumping the ball out in the courtyard until the other kids’ parents come to pick them up. Everyone is buzzing from the excitement and the cupcakes and Sho-tío apologizes to their moms or dads for sending them home all hopped up on sugar.
“That’s just how kid’s birthday parties are,” Elena’s mom laughs. Mari’s best friend is the last to leave, and they’re making silly faces at each other from behind the adults. “Thanks for being here for them,” she adds. “Tooru is a great dad, but sometimes he forgets to lean on people. I’m glad he and Marisol have you. She certainly talks about you a lot.”
“Does she now?” Sho-tío grins down at her, opening his arms to let her jump into them if she wants. She always wants to and it is her birthday so she does, wrapping her arms around his neck with a giggle. “Mari-chan, I hope you’re only saying good things about me!”
Elena doesn’t want to be left out and she tugs on her mom’s sleeve to be picked up, too.
“All good things,” Elena’s mom says with a slight grunt as she hoists her daughter to mirror Sho-tío and Marisol. “So many good things, sometimes I wonder if you are actually real or just a figment of her imagination,” she adds with a slight smirk. “I hope you keep being real for them.”
“I plan to,” he says, tightening his hold on Mari’s legs and pressing his lips to her temple. Mari squirms at the attention as they say their goodbyes.
When they get back inside, Mari picks up all her new toys and brings them back to her room to play while Sho-tío helps Papa finish dinner. On her last pass through the living room to get Zumi, she hears Papa laughing in the kitchen. She peeks in the doorway and what she sees is probably her favorite gift of her whole birthday.
The sight of Papa and Sho-tío side by side at the stove isn’t anything new. The sound of Sho-tío singing in Portuguese isn’t anything new either. The way he pulls Papa away from the stove with a gentle hand is, though. The way he spins Papa away from him and then back into him, like Papa is a yo-yo and Sho-tío has him on a string, that’s new too. The dance doesn’t last very long, there is hot tofu frying on the stove after all, but the way Papa laughs when Sho-tío sings all husky and low as he tips him toward the floor makes her stomach swoop with giddiness.
She thinks she’ll ask Sho-tío to teach her how to dance later.
After dinner, they call Iwa-jichan. She had talked to Oba-san and Kanae-obachan in the morning to thank them for their gifts, when it was almost bedtime for them. It’s early on Sunday now, but Iwa-jichan wanted to sing to her when she blew out the candle on her cake.
“You look so grown up in your Japan National Team jersey!” he says as soon as he sees her.
She beams and tugs on the hem with one hand to try and make it even more visible. The big number 0 on her chest is easy to make out even without her help. There are signatures on the front and back, friends and teammates of Sho-tío’s and old rivals of Papa’s.
“You’re all traitors,” he huffs, bringing the cake to the table.
They laugh at his jibe. He doesn’t actually mean it. She has a jersey in blue, too. Also signed. She loves them both. Argentina and Japan are both as much a part of her as volleyball is. She looks around the table, at Papa and Sho-tío, at Iwa-jichan on the phone in her hand as she passes it off to Papa so she can blow out her candles, and she knows what she wants.
It’s the same wish she’s had in her toy chest since Sho-tío first came to visit. She wishes they can always be like this. That someday this family won’t just be a dream. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath as she holds that wish in her heart.
She blows out the candles.
5.
May 2028 - Argentina
Sho-tío comes back a few weeks later, to both Marisol and Papa’s surprise. It’s no one’s birthday and it’s not a holiday. There’s no special occasion to warrant the sudden visit. At least, not one they are aware of.
Mari doesn’t complain. She misses Sho-tío whenever he’s away. It reminds her a lot of when she lived in Japan, waiting for Papa to come home between tournaments and training. But just like Papa always came home to see her and made time to call her when he couldn’t, Sho-tío does too.
He stands on the doorstep just like he had that first time, except now he’s not a stranger. Instead of hiding in her room, Mari leaps into his waiting arms.
“There’s my girl!” he grunts at the force of her embrace as he carries her inside. “Geez, have you had another growth spurt since your birthday?”
“I grew another centimeter!” she proudly declares. “Papa measured me just yesterday!”
They both turn to Papa expectantly, waiting for him to point out the new mark on the kitchen wall. He stands in the entryway, just to the left of the dozen little lines showing her growth since moving to Argentina, but he doesn’t point out the freshest one. His eyes are shiny and they lock onto Sho-tío. Mari isn’t sure what this expression means, and it worries her a little because Papa never cries but he looks like he wants to.
“Tadaima.” Sho-tío’s voice is soft, gentle like a summer breeze, when he speaks.
Papa’s lips wobble, and Mari thinks he might really be about to cry now, but he swipes his hand across his eyes and huffs out a light chuckle. When he makes eye contact again, he’s smiling. “Okaeri.”
Mari tightens her arms around Sho-tío and presses a kiss to both his cheeks. “Okaeri Sho-tío!” she giggles. She isn’t sure why they’re suddenly switching to Japanese, but a year in Argentina hasn’t erased her manners.
She tells him all about her week at school while he brings his luggage to Papa’s room. She helps by carrying his small travel bag, the red JNT drawstring bag where he keeps his headphones and snacks for his flight (and sometimes candy or souvenirs for her). Papa follows them, reminding Mari to ask before she just goes digging into the bag and also to maybe let Sho-tío have a minute to settle in. She’s only half listening; Sho-tío never minds her stories or questions and he wouldn’t have given her the bag if he didn’t trust her to handle it. (He does let her get a hard candy out of the bag, but only one because she’ll spoil her dinner otherwise.)
“So what brings you to Argentina this time?” Papa asks, leaning against the doorframe as he watches Mari dig through the bag for her favorite pineapple flavor.
“Hmm, what indeed?” He helps her find it and unwraps it for her. “Didn’t want to miss our anniversary, I suppose.”
Papa coughs like he choked on a candy, but she’s pretty sure he didn’t have one.
“What anniversary?” he wheezes.
Sho-tío grins, wide and mischievous like the cat in that old cartoon movie. “The anniversary of becoming Mari-chan’s Sho-tío, of course.”
Papa blinks a few times. Mari twirls the wrapper in her fingers to occupy herself while the pineapple candy melts in her mouth. She won’t choke like Papa.
“Has it really been a year already?”
Sho-tío’s softening smile is answer enough. “I’m also going back to Japan next week to get ready for L.A. and wanted to see you both before I go.”
That makes Papa look sad again, but not in a way that he might want to cry. This sadness she is familiar with. This sadness is for volleyball and the court he doesn’t play on anymore. This sadness is for the teammates he left behind when he chose to be her Papa instead. She hasn’t seen this sadness since they started getting along better. Since Sho-tío helped them reconnect.
She doesn’t like seeing Papa sad with Sho-tío.
He must not like being sad in front of Sho-tío either, because the sadness only lingers on his face for a moment before it dissolves into a smile both comforting and familiar. “I’m glad,” he says. “I’m glad you’re here.”
The silence stretches between them as they just smile at one another and it gets to be too much for Mari. “I’m glad you’re here, too!” she proclaims, throwing herself at him again and trusting him to catch her. “We missed you a lot!”
That gets a giggle out of him and an exasperated sigh out of Papa. “Is that so?” He ruffles her hair as he squeezes her tight to his chest. The weird feeling in the room melts away as their giggles fill the air. Papa announces he’s going to go finish dinner and tells them not to break anything.
She and Sho-tío exchange another mischievous look. As if.
Over dinner, Mari whines about having to go to school while Sho-tío is visiting and does she have to? Papa reminds her that it’s just for the morning and yes, she does, and won’t her friends miss her if she’s not there? Sho-tío promises to pick her up and take her out to lunch. They’ll have a special date since it’s their anniversary. Mari shrieks in delight. A date with Sho-tío! Papa texts Elena’s mom to let her know about the change in after school plans. She usually goes home with Elena on Thursdays since Papa has afternoon sessions at the training center, but with Sho-tío home, there’s no need.
She’s so excited she can hardly get to sleep that night. She’s so excited she rushes through breakfast and Papa teases her, saying he’s never seen her so eager to get to school. She’s so excited she can’t sit still during class and her friends just roll their eyes when she explains that she has a date with her uncle after school. They’re used to her Sho-tío excitement but this is a new level, even for her.
Sho-tío is there waiting for her, chatting with Elena’s mom, when school lets out at lunch time. She knew he would be, but it still makes her heart dance in her chest to see him there. Like the days Papa is there waiting for her. He squats down when he sees her and opens his arms just like Papa does when he picks her up, too. She runs into them and squeezes her arms tight around his neck.
It makes her think about that wish she made on her birthday. That maybe it could come true.
They go to her favorite cafe for lunch, the one near the park with the chalkboard walls and pretty pastel drawings all over it. The waitresses greet her warmly, bringing her and Sho-tío to the table she usually sits at with Papa. Her drawings from the last time they came a couple weeks ago are still there. A giant Zumi knocking down skyscrapers like Godzilla and Papa as a puppy with Mari as a kitten on his head. While they wait for their food, she adds Sho-tío as a bird next to them, because he can fly when he’s playing volleyball. He laughs and then explains that when he was still in high school, his school mascot was a crow.
After they eat, they go to the park to play volleyball. She wants to show him how much she’s learned. She’s been practicing.
Sho-tío smiles and gives her a high-five after every toss. It makes her very happy. She never wants to stop tossing to him. They have to go home eventually, but for now this is enough.
As the sun starts to get lower in the sky, Sho-tío flops on his back on the ground. “Your Papa really did teach you well,” he says, a touch breathless.
They’d only been playing for about an hour and she feels like she could play for another hour. Until they have to go get Papa from work. She sits next to him, folding her arms and leaning them on the ball in her lap. “We practice every weekend,” she says. “I like watching Papa play. It makes him happy.”
Sho-tío sits up on his elbows. “I think playing with you is what makes him happy,” he says, reaching out to tug on her ponytail.
She feels her face flush and she ducks her head into her arms. “I guess.”
“Mari-chan.” He says her name soft and delicate, like he’s holding something precious. “Your Papa loves you most of all. You know that, right?” She nods. “And nothing makes him happier than being your Papa.”
She purses her lips in a pout. Iwa-jichan says she looks like Papa when she does that. “I know,” she huffs. “But other things make him happy too! And I like finding new things that make Papa happy.”
Sho-tío tips his head to the side as he considers her. She likes that about him. He always takes her seriously when they talk. “Do you think Papa needs more things to make him happy?”
She lifts her shoulders in a half shrug. “Sometimes he seems lonely,” she admits. “When he thinks I’m playing in my room or asleep.”
“Are you spying on Papa now?” His lips curl in a teasing smirk.
“No!” She lobs the ball at him in retaliation. He catches it with one hand and laughs. “Just, sometimes I see him when he’s alone. Or after we have a fight,” she adds quietly. Because while they get along much better now, they still have arguments from time to time.
Sho-tío sets the ball behind him and sits up to mirror her, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. “Do you guys,” he pauses and rubs his chin, like he’s unsure if he should ask the question. “Do you guys ever talk about your mom?”
She tightens her fists in the grass by her knees. “Not really. I don’t care about her, though. I have Papa.”
“Do you ever wish you had a mom though?”
She shakes her head. “I had Oba-san and Kanae-obachan and Iwa-jichan in Japan. And I didn’t really like the ladies the abuelas used to try to set Papa up with. They didn’t make him happy like I do. Like volleyball does.” She swallows and looks up at him. He asked if she wishes for a mom and she doesn’t. But she does have another wish. It feels like the right time to say it. “Like you do.”
The thing she loves most about Sho-tío is how easily he understands the things she doesn’t say. She never needs to explain her feelings to him because he just gets it. Not even Papa understands her all the time, but Sho-tío, he always knows what she means.
“You and Papa make me happy, too.” He smiles at her and it’s the same smile Papa wears when he looks at her. Because he loves her and is so happy to have her. She scrambles across the tiny gap in the grass to wrap her arms around him and bury her face in his chest. His arms come around her and hold her tight, close and secure and warm. “I love you and your Papa so much,” he says into her hair. “Do you think it’d be alright if I asked your Papa to marry me someday?”
She jolts back to look at his face. There’s a waver of uncertainty in his smile. Like there’s even the slightest chance this isn’t her biggest wish come true. She can’t quite believe it herself. “You want to be part of our family?”
He nods. “If you want me to.”
“I do!” she cries and throws herself back around his neck. “I always want Sho-tío to come home to us!”
“Ok then,” he laughs, hugging her tight again and rubbing soothing circles in her back. “That’s what I want, too.”
He lets her laugh and cry until she gets out all her overwhelming emotions until all that’s left is relief. He helps her clean her face and they laugh at how messy his shirt is. He has a clean shirt in his bag, though, and he changes into it before they leave to go get Papa.
She practically vibrates with giddy energy over their shared secret.
He holds her hand as they walk and she imagines every day being like this.
Someday.
5.5
Sho-tío returns to Japan and Mari doesn’t cry this time. Even though she misses him already, she knows she won’t have to say goodbye to him too many more times. They have a plan.
They had started it while he was still here. After their date in the park, Sho-tío surprised Papa with a date of their own that weekend. Since Mari didn’t get to go to Elena’s after school on Thursday as usual, she had a sleepover there on Friday night instead.
Papa was confused at first. Didn’t she want to spend time with Sho-tío while he was here?
“She’s already bored of me,” Sho-tío sighed dramatically. “Guess you’ll be stuck entertaining me.”
“I already got a date with Sho-tío,” she said. “Papa should get one too.”
Sho-tío laughed as Papa’s face turned as red as a cherry tomato.
It’s been a week since then, and she and Papa are cleaning the dishes from dinner. She stands on her step stool next to him, drying the dishes as he hands them to her. He seems a bit distracted, scrubbing the same plate for almost a minute, not realizing it’s already clean.
“Papa?”
He almost drops it, apologizing as he hands it to her. She wipes the excess water off with her towel but he doesn’t reach for the next bowl. He just looks at her instead and she doesn’t understand the look on his face. “Marisita,” he says, slow and soothing, the tone he uses when he wants her to do something he thinks she might fight him on. “What do you think about me…dating someone?”
Her heart skips a beat. She hopes the question means her and Sho-tío’s plan is already working. “I want Papa to be happy,” she says honestly.
He hums as he picks up the bowl and starts scrubbing it. “I think,” he says, and pauses before handing her the clean bowl to dry. He sighs and his lips twitch into a smile. “I had a really nice time on my date with Sho-tío last weekend,” he admits.
She knows this. Even though they didn’t talk about their date, she saw how happy Papa was when he and Sho-tío picked her up from Elena’s the next morning. Sho-tío had given her a secret wink, too, so she knew it had gone as well as they both hoped. She doesn’t push him now, though. He’s still skittish, like the stray cat that sometimes comes to the courtyard for treats.
“You know I love you more than anything, right?”
She has to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the echo of her conversation with Sho-tío. She places the dried bowl in the rack with the other dishes with a nod.
“I think,” he tries again and shakes his head. “I love Sho-tío, too.” It takes all her restraint not to jump off the stool into his arms and spill all her secret wishes and plans. “I want to date Sho-tío for real. But I want to make sure you know that you are still my top priority. If you don’t want me to date, I won’t.”
“Sho-tío makes Papa happy!” she cries. She grips his sleeve with one hand as she pulls him to look at her. “I love Sho-tío, too. I want Papa to date Sho-tío.”
His eyes get shiny but he doesn’t cry. He drops to a crouch, to be at her level as he takes her face in his wet hands and presses a kiss to her forehead. “How did I get so lucky?” he laughs, and that sounds wet too. “Promise me something, though ok?” She wraps her hands around his wrists and squeezes as she nods, uncaring that her cheeks are damp with soapy dish water. “If you ever change your mind, if you ever want me to stop dating Sho-tío, promise me you will tell me. I will always choose you.”
She knows that. She won’t ever make him choose, though. She wants them both. She always will. “You too,” she says hesitantly. She doesn’t believe he will. She’s seen the pictures of them from before. He’s always been in love with Sho-tío, even if he didn’t know it, but she needs him to know that they’re a team too. “If you stop loving Sho-tío, you tell me too.”
“Of course,” he whispers, pulling her to his shoulder. “Of course, preciosa, he’s important to you, too.”
She rubs her face on his shirt, partly to dry her cheeks but also just because she wants to feel close to him. She thinks about the ring she and Sho-tío picked out while Papa was at work on Monday, before they took Sho-tío to the airport. She thinks about her dreams and wishes and knows Papa’s are the same.
She thinks about someday and she hides her smile because she knows that someday isn’t that far away after all.
6.
August 2028 - L.A. Summer Olympics
Japan makes it to the bronze medal match, narrowly losing to Italy in the semifinal and forced to face Brazil for a final chance at a medal. It’s been an exhilarating week and Marisol has watched so many volleyball matches that she sees the courts when she closes her eyes, hears the scuffs of sneakers on parquette in her dreams.
They’ll have one more match to watch tonight when Papa’s team takes on Italy for the gold, but right now, it’s all about Japan versus Brazil. She watches the setters move the ball around the court, points out the things Papa taught her, and watches his eyes shine with pride. She screams with the crowd as they score point after point.
The medal point comes in the fourth set. Sho-tío subbed in for their injured young opposite hitter in the third and stayed in the rotation. The team has an entirely different energy with him. He’s a veteran player, one of the oldest on the roster, and he can fill in the holes the opposing team attempts to create. He’s especially dangerous in this match because some of his club teammates are on the other side of the net. He knows their weaknesses and how to exploit them.
Brazil is serving after a blockout saved one medal point. The player targets Kageyama, forcing him to receive the initial hit. He must not be one of Sho-tío’s teammates, though, because he doesn’t seem to expect Sho-tío to be waiting for it. He makes an emergency set to a middle blocker she knows well. She screams in triumph as her cousin Takeru slams the ball through a gap in Brazil’s blockers.
A sea of red jerseys spills off the bench and onto the court, swarming their countrymen and sweeping their teammates up in tight embraces. The crowd for Japan goes wild. Nacchan pulls Suga-san and Papa both into a wild hug. Papa lifts Mari onto his hip as they shout down to the court together.
Sho-tío hears them and breaks away from his team to jog over to the stands, his smile brighter than the stadium lights above. Iwa-jichan jogs up behind him with his phone in his hand. Mari turns to Suga-san. He nods and pulls out the banner he hadn’t unfurled the whole match.
“That was a beautiful toss, Shouyou,” Papa calls down once he’s close enough he doesn’t have to yell.
“Learned from the best, right Mari-chan?” He winks at her.
“Take-chan scored the point though,” Nacchan teases from her side. She hands Mari the small velvet box Sho-tío had shown her the other night at dinner while Papa was in the bathroom.
Papa notices the exchange and frowns at the box. “Mari, what-”
“Mari-chan, can you give that to your Papa for me please?”
Papa’s head whips between her and Sho-tío. She smiles as she opens the box to reveal the diamond-studded silver band they picked out together the last time he came to them in Argentina. “Papa, Sho-tío wants to join our family, too!” She points behind them to where Suga-san is holding a giant sign that says “TOORU, WILL YOU MARRY ME?”
Papa’s free hand covers his mouth to smother a sob, but it slips out anyway. His eyes well up and, for the first time she can remember, tears pour over his cheeks. Iwa-jichan stands just a little behind Sho-tío, a delighted grin on his face, with his phone capturing the entire proposal as Papa cries. Mari doesn’t worry about these tears because she knows they are happy tears. She feels them on her own cheeks too.
“Say “yes,” Papa,” she urges, pushing the box with the ring into his hand.
He nods, pressing wet kisses all over her cheeks. “Of course.” He looks down at Sho-tío. “Yes!” he shouts and the crowd around them goes wild for a second time. Sho-tío throws his arms up in celebration again and turns to give Iwa-jichan a high five. Takeru and the rest of the team come to join them as well.
Papa sets Mari down and lets her put the ring on his finger. It fits perfectly. Then, he leans over the rail of the stands, stretching his arm out so Sho-tío (and everyone else) can see the ring. Sho-tío reaches up to him, too, and stretches up to meet him. Mari cheers the loudest when their lips finally meet.
Papa is still crying. Sho-tío is still laughing. The crowd is still roaring.
But Mari just smiles.
Her dream has finally come true.
