Disclaimer: I do now own the Prince of Tennis.


They were in their third year of junior high. And amidst graduating, being the oldest in the school, since they've been hanging around high school students often recently, they couldn't help but feel young, immature, and naive. It made them realize that they were just kids, fourteen years olds who have yet to experience the world.

It made him question how he felt about her.

It made her question how she had really felt about him.

It had dawned in that the future is relentless, that tomorrow may bring a change of heart. That maybe this thing, this thing they thought was love, was not love at all. Maybe it was something less of it; something shallow and insincere.

So that day, as they walked their separate ways, she looking back down the road to catch the last glimpse of his fading silhouette, him looking forward, ready and resolved to let go of what could have been, the tie ended. Their relationship vanished without even starting.

It pained no one. Their hearts were numb. And tomorrow, as he boarded the plan to America. He knew they would never meet again.


Really, Truthfully, and Irrevocably So


When you've lost faith in love, in god, in the world, everything seems to be bleak. Tastes seem to vanish, and days seem to be longer. Music has lost its beat, smiles aren't smiles. And the faces of those who love you, care for you, seem to mean nothing anymore. It was a cold autumn afternoon when Ryoma grabbed his tennis gear and walked off to the tennis courts. He was nineteen and attending NYU. For over a year, he's been living in campus, rooming it out with a stereotypical racist trying hard not to be racist.

It was spring break, so he was alone. His roommate had gone out of town with his girlfriend. And Ryoma, he didn't want to go home to California. So that cold afternoon, he decided to spend his days loafing around, and he walked to the tennis courts, enjoying the crunching sounds of the dried leaves on his way there.

Those were Ryoma Echizen's days nowadays. He'd join tournaments, but winning seemed like a drowning moment. The endless cheers seemed to deafen him. And as he'd look around the stadium, something he had unknowingly took into habit, he'd see nothing. He had already known he'd see nothing. Not even a sliver of her auburn hair. He knew it. But as per habit, he had always searched.

It's been five years since he's last seen her. And he knew. By god he knew he'd never see her again.

But life has a funny way of telling someone they don't call the shots. That destiny worked on its own and no matter how hard you try, if destiny doesn't will it, it shall never be.

On his twenty-first birthday, he and his family boarded the plane to visit relatives in Japan. Bored and lazy, he slumped on his seat in the plane and contented himself with simply looking out the window. It has been over three years since he started forgetting about her.
Well, three years trying. After all, isn't there always someone, that one person you can never let go no matter how hard you try. An image, a vision you can never shake off. A hope that cannot falter. Well, she was just like that to him.

She just didn't know. And he found out too late.

He doesn't really know if he loved her. The only thing he was sure of was that he couldn't forget her. Maybe he was drugged, maybe he was a fool. But he just couldn't stop thinking about her. He always imagined seeing her again. He'd think his heart would skip a beat. He'll suddenly forget how to take a step. And his palms would go sweaty. Sometimes as well, he'd think what she would look like right now. If she really was as tall as she seemed to be on the pictures online. But of course, this was just foolish thinking. He'd never tell anyone how insane he's become. Never.

But really, remembering her made him smile. Remembering their youth together, dreaming of what could have been. It made him somewhat happy. He'd also wonder if other people felt this way as well. Dreamt these types of fantasies as well.

Maybe is what he'd like to think. That someone out there is just as sick and in love as he was.

Beside him, the old man was stirring and had started grumbling. Soon enough, he was off. While Ryoma was zoned out and falling asleep,
his head leaning on the window, a lady took the seat beside him instead of the old man.

She had been busy typing down on her tablet, or maybe playing temple run, to have had noticed the young man stirring beside her in his sleep. When Ryoma drowsily opened his eyes, a blurry vision of a man jumping down through bridges and caves greeted him. And seeing this made him think he was still dreaming.

But he wasn't.

As he'd later found out, it was only Temple Run.

Groggily, he sits up and smoothens out his sleeves by pulling on his cuffs. Then, he blinks the sleep warily away. He starts adjusting the fan above him when the lady beside him squeeks. Paying it no mind, since she just probably died on the run or something, he rubbed his hands warm and pulled a blanket from the pocket in front of him. After wearing it, he feel asleep again.

That was the first time he had almost met his future wife.

In the years to come, after he's had a family, he realizes one day that it's been over a decade since he last thought of Sakuno Ryuzaki. When the thought dawned to him, he couldn't help but laugh at how hysterical and how much of a fool he's been, letting himself remain stuck in the past of what could have been.

Now, he was done with tennis. His trophies and grand slam titles were all framed around the house. He had told his wife to just stow them away, it was unnecessary to showcase all of his winnings. Rather, he was prouder of his diploma from NYU. He'd often ask her, why she wouldn't post it up center. But she'd just laugh and tell him that he was annoying.

That was Ryoma as a family man and soon to be father.

It was during a rainy day when he was crossing the street, with an umbrella on hold, that he was hit by a car. The driver had failed to see him amidst the strong rain shower. Ryoma had been thirty-four years old.

That day, those around were sure that Ryoma had died. A few of the passerbys had recognized him amidst the blood pooling over his face. And amidst that crowd, a woman pushed in. In a rush of movements, she instructed the crowd on what to do. She had executed first aid and with a soft voice, she assured Ryoma he was going to be fine.

And he had.

When Ryoma was up and awake. After being comatosed for a long while, his wife had been tending to him. On the day she was out, he managed to get up and walk around the hospital. His body was numb and his eyes were heavy.

In the counter, not that far away, he could recognize his doctor, the woman who had saved his life. And out of all the people in the world,
all the people in Japan, and all the people in Tokyo, it was her that saved him. It always makes him laugh how easily it could have been someone else. Nevertheless, it was her.

With a small smile on his lips, he staggered towards her. And seeing he was, Sakuno Ryuzaki looked up from the papers she'd been going over with the head nurse and smiled brightly at him.

A few scenes later, they were walking, laughing as they made their way to the cafeteria.

It was funny how in sync they had been. It was funny how it seemed as if they had not spend a single moment apart. As if those twenty or so years of separation never happened. It was funny as well how they had seemed so perfect together, so in tune, yet married to another. Both their wedding rings shone in a twinkle as they conversed about their days.

Ryoma Echizen, he couldn't help but smile when he thought he was crazy for having drowned himself with thoughts of Sakuno during his adolescent years. Because by god, oh by the heavens, there really was something about her that made him so happy, so giddy. He remembered feeling this way back in the day. Back in those days when they'd hang around and play tennis with their schoolmates.

Sometimes, he wished he'd sleep and wake up back in those days.

Had he, he'd waste no time in holding her down. He'd tell her how he felt. And he would be sure.

They spent growing old, casually meeting, talking and laughing about their lives since then. Even as they grew old and grey, they would meet up sometime and just bask in each other's company.

When you love someone like this, really, truthfully, and undeniably so, you never have to speak it out, you never have to put it into action. Because being really undeniably and irrevokably in love like this usually goes both ways. And Sakuno Ryuzaki had already known since then.

Even in their old age, she could see their separation that long time ago. She could envision his figure disappearing with the distance. She could remember how much it hurt not doing a thing. But that time has long gone, and now, they shared a different relationship. One which was untainted and a dream come true.

They had spent their last days like this.

With their families around them.

Love, love is being mature and accepting of the course of life, and being contented just to see the other happy. This was a love that was pure, true and sincere. And this is what they had.