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Summer 2061
In the summer of 2061, Shoyo and Tobio’s daughter Ichika and her husband and children came to celebrate Shoyo and Tobio’s 30th wedding anniversary with a party in their Miyagi home. It was a small affair, but filled with family, friends and lots of love.
When the guests had gone home, Ichika and her husband Haru went to clean up the kitchen, and shooed away their fathers who wanted to help.
Ichika said, “Go sit with the children and visit a while longer before we have to go home.”
So Shoyo and Tobio took little Haruto, who was 2, and Sakura, who was 5, into the living room. Tobio settled on the chair, and Haruto climbed into his lap and promptly fell asleep. Shoyo settled onto the sofa with Sakura cuddled up next to him.
“Tell me a story, Jiji Shoyo,” Sakura pleaded.
“A story? What kind of story?”
“Tell me about you and Jiji Tobio.”
“Oh, well,” Shoyo laughed, “that is a very long story since we are very old.”
“Tell me anyway, please?”
So Shoyo told the story.
“When Jiji Tobio and I first met, we were rivals.”
“What are rivals?” asked Sakura.
“Kind of like enemies. We both wanted to win and to win, the other had to lose. Do you understand?”
“Kind of like me and Haruto when we both want mama?”
Shoyo laughed. “Yes, sort of like that.” Sakura nodded so he continued.
“Then we found ourselves on the same team, so we had to work together.”
“What team, Jiji?”
“Karasano.”
“The team you coach?” Sakura asked with wonder.
“Yes, one and the same.”
“Cool!”
“So over time we learned to work together and people were afraid of us when we did.”
“Cause of your freak quick?”
Tobio laughed from across the room. “Yes, our freak quick. Where did you hear that?”
“From mama.”
Shoyo chuckled, shook his head a bit, and continued.
“So over time, we grew to be close friends, and then, at some point, we realized that our lives would always involve the other. We loved each other. We were soul mates.”
“What’s soul mates?”
Shoyo thought for a moment, glancing quickly at Tobio who was watching with rapt attention. “It’s like when two people are meant to be together.”
“Like mama and daddy?”
“Yes, like mama and daddy too.”
Sakura nodded with understanding.
“But when we graduated, I wanted to go to Brazil. Remember I showed you that on a map?”
“Yes, I remember. It’s very far from Japan.”
“Yes, it is. But I had to go, to leave Jiji Tobio, so I could do what I loved.”
“Play volleyball,” Sakura concluded.
“Yes, I had to get very good so I could come back and play with Jiji Tobio. So I played on the beach, which is very hard, and I got very good, and I came back to Japan to play professionally.”
“What does professionally mean?”
“It means when that’s your job. I got paid to play volleyball.”
“Oooh, that sounds like fun.”
Shoyo laughed. “It was, princess. It was indeed.”
“So then you and Jiji Tobio were together?”
Shoyo frowned, recalling those years of heartbreak early in their relationship. “Not exactly. Because after I came back, Jiji Tobio went to Italy. I showed you that on a map too, remember?”
Sakura looked accusingly at Tobio. “Why did you leave, Jiji?”
Tobio looked embarrassed for a moment before Shoyo answered for him. “Jiji had to go to Italy for the same reason I had to go to Brazil. To get better at volleyball.”
Sakura frowned. “I don’t like this story so far, Jiji,” she pouted.
“Oh, baby, it was a little sad,” Shoyo said in the understatement of the century. “But it has a happy ending.”
“Hmph,” said Sakura, clearly not convinced.
“So after that, we both came back to Japan for the Olympics.”
“Oooh! I like this part. Mama was in the Bolympics too!”
“Yes, she was. And she was amazing.”
“Were you amazing, Jiji?”
“Well, we didn’t win a medal, no. But we played well and had fun. And more importantly, Jiji Tobio and I were together.”
Sakura smiled sweetly. “And then you got married?”
Shoyo frowned slightly. “Well, no. After the Olympics, I went back to Brazil and he went back to Italy.”
Sakura threw him a ‘you have got to be kidding me’ look. “Why did you do that, Jiji?”
“Well, it’s complicated.”
“What’s complicated?”
“It means hard or confusing.”
“Why was it confusing? Didn’t you say you loved each other?”
Indeed, little one, Shoyo thought. Why was it confusing?
“We wanted each other to be able to do what we loved, to play volleyball. We didn’t want to hold the other back.”
Sakura looked incredulous still.
Shoyo finished, “And we might have been young and stupid, okay?”
“How old were you?”
“We were 25 and 24.”
“That’s old.”
Shoyo and Tobio both laughed. “Well, when you’re little like you, 25 does seem old. But Jiji and I are very old now, much older than 25.”
“How old are you, Jiji? 100?”
Shoyo chuckled again. “Not quite. I’m 65.”
“That’s a lot.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Shoyo said, catching a glimpse of Tobio’s grin.
“So then what?” Sakura asked.
“Well, when we were together for the Olympics, we realized how much we loved being together every day, and after another year apart, we decided we wanted to be together all the time.”
“Finally!”
Shoyo threw her a bemused look. “So then we played in Brazil at the same time for a while. Then we went to the Paris Olympics together. Then we went to Italy together to play on the same team.”
“And then you came back to Japan?”
“Yes, when we couldn’t play anymore, we came back to Japan.”
“And you wrote a book?”
“Yes, and we got married and had your mama, and we started coaching. Then you and Haruto came along. And now we are old and happy.”
Sakura was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then she looked at Tobio. “I just realized, Jiji, you and Jiji Shoyo are the crows.”
Tobio blushed a bit, offered a small smile and nodded at the child.
“What do you mean, the crows?” How did Sakura know about Karasuno’s mascot?
Sakura turned to Shoyo. “Jiji Tobio told me a story about two crows and I just realized it’s you.”
“What story about the crows?” Shoyo asked, truly confused.
Sakura continued. “Jiji Tobio told me a story about two crows. They loved flying together but one day one crow wanted to fly to far away lands and the second crow didn’t want to stop him. When the first crow came back to their home, they were both happy, but the second crow wanted to fly away to far away lands, and the first crow knew he could not stop him. Then the second crow came back and they built a nest together and were happy for a while, but then both wanted to fly far away and neither wanted to stop the other from exploring, so they said goodbye again. But then, after a while, they both came back together and realized that flying far away alone was not as far as flying away together. So from that day on, they soared high in the sky, together. And when they couldn’t fly as high, when their wings were tired and old, they came back to the nest and had a baby crow, who had baby crows, and they all lived together as a happy family.”
Shoyo had tears in his eyes. He looked at Tobio but addressed Sakura, “So Jiji Tobio told you that story, huh?”
“Yes. It’s pretty, isn’t it? And you two are the crows right?”
“Yes, princess, we’re the crows.”
Shoyo and Tobio stared at each other for a long moment, a lifetime of love and understanding flowing between them in just one gaze. Shoyo blinked back the tears that were forming in his eyes. How he loved this man, had loved him for 50 years, and how blessed they were to have their life and their family. It was suddenly overwhelming. He knew Tobio was feeling the same thing because he got that constipated look he got when he felt strong emotions.
The spell was broken when Ichika came out of the kitchen, followed by her husband. “Time to go, kids. Let’s let Jiji and Jiji have some rest, since they’re so old,” she joked.
Tobio smiled and Shoyo laughed. “Is Haruto asleep?”
“Yes,” answered Tobio softly.
“Oh, Haru, please get him. Sakura, come here baby.”
Sakura gave Shoyo a hug, “Goodbye, Jiji. Thanks for the story.” She then went to Tobio, who was no longer holding Haruto, and gave him a hug too. “Goodbye Jiji Tobio.”
“We’ll see you soon,” Tobio said as he ruffled her hair.
They walked their family to the door, waved their goodbyes, and watched them drive off. Then they went back inside to the living room.
As Tobio sunk into his chair, Shoyo noticed that he looked tired. His black hair was now dusted with gray but his blue eyes were just as deep and bright as they ever had been. Shoyo had always been a sucker for Tobio’s blue eyes.
He went to make tea for them both, then sat himself in his normal place on the sofa. He supposed his hair was graying as well. The red still was predominant, though perhaps not quite as bright as when he was younger. That was the price of growing old, he realized.
They talked a bit about their party and the visit, then Shoyo said, “Tobi, I had no idea you were such a romantic.”
“What?” asked Tobio. “Why do you say that?”
“Two crows, flying off to faraway lands?”
Tobio blushed again. “I just told her that story once,” he said shyly.
“It was beautiful,” Shoyo commented.
They stared at each other for a moment and Tobio just nodded, never having been as comfortable expressing himself as Shoyo was. But after all these years, Shoyo knew. Words didn’t need to be spoken.
Their tea cups were empty now. “Ready to go to bed?” Shoyo asked, as he finished washing the mugs and leaving them near the sink to dry.
“Yes, I think so,” Tobio said, yawning.
Shoyo came from the kitchen to stand in front of Tobio’s chair. He held out a hand, which Tobio took and stood up. They began to walk hand-in-hand to the bedroom.
“What do you have in mind for tonight, my love?” Shoyo asked.
Tobio paused for a second. “I was kind of thinking of that thing with the Portuguese. I know it’s not my birthday…”
Shoyo laughed, deep and rich. “Oh, Tobi, don’t you know after all this time, you don’t need to give me a reason?”
Tobio stopped walking and turned. He lifted a hand to cup Shoyo’s face. “I know the only reason we need anymore is our love. If only we’d known all along that it was enough.”
Shoyo swallowed with difficulty past the knot in his throat. “It will always be enough, my love. I’m here now. I’ll never leave.”
“You’re here.” Tobio closed his eyes briefly, then reopened.
Tobio leaned down for a soft kiss and they broke away and stared at each other for a few heartbeats, communicating without words a lifetime of love and loss, of heartbreak and triumph, of waiting and then receiving.
“Happy anniversary, babe,” said Tobio quietly.
“Happy anniversary, babe,” responded Shoyo. “ Agora tire a roupa,” [Now take off your clothes] .
//END