Happy birthday, Sku! You have the same birthday as my youngest sister! I wrote this quick story for you. It's simple, but it's about our favorite mother-daughter relationship, and I hope it makes you smile.

Propriety

Toshiko flips the page of the photo album and traces her finger along the side of an old high school photograph. A miniature teenage Toshiko smiles up at her through the sheet of plastic, surrounded by four other girls the same age. They stand in a line, arms stretched above their heads, hoisting a golden tennis trophy to the faded blue sky. The older Toshiko smiles fondly at her younger self, and then glances at her daughter sitting beside her on the couch. Sora's eyes widen when she sees the old image of Toshiko's high school tennis team.

Sitting together on the couch like this is new. Sora can't remember the last time her mother even used their couch, except to dust it. Sora is used to sitting opposite her mother at the dinner table. She's used to kneeling in front of her on her mats, surrounded by the woman's impeccable floral arrangements. Sora knows to keep her voice low to avoid "disturbing the flowers"—and, more importantly, to avoid disturbing the flowers' strict mistress. She's not used to sitting side-by-side with her mother, like partners.

But here they are, curled up together on Toshiko's spotless couch. In their pajamas, no less, with a blanket over their laps. Sora leans closer to see the old photo, her shoulder almost touching her mother's.

"That's really you?"

"Of course it's me."

Sora flinches at the familiar dismissive tone of voice. Toshiko realizes what she's done and wraps her arm around Sora's shoulders, drawing her closer.

"I wanted to show you…Is this okay?" Toshiko asks hesitantly. Her daughter feels stiff to her touch.

Sora smiles and nods at her. The girl's muscles relax, and she leans against her mother. The woman feels surprisingly warm.

"You look really happy." Sora studies the old photograph. Young Toshiko's hair is in a messy ponytail after playing a long game, with brown strands slipping out and falling over her face. Her white tennis outfit is sweaty. She's thinner, but still recognizably her mother. Except for the bright smile on the teenager's face as she holds the trophy up above her head. That part is completely different.

"That's because I was happy! We all worked hard for that game. My friends and I trained every night…" Toshiko chuckles. "It was only a game, but I projected so much onto it. Silly, really."

"It's not silly!"

Toshiko hesitates. "You're right. It's not any sillier than arranging flowers."

"And it has the bonus effect of making you healthier."

Toshiko laughs. Sora breathes a quick sigh of relief that her joke landed.

"What happened to your teammates?" Sora stares at the teenage girls. She has only begun to realize that her mother doesn't have that many friends. Sora almost always sees her mother in a position of authority, whether her Ikebana students are young or old. And Toshiko always carries herself with a dignified formality when she speaks to their neighbors. But her mother had friends her own age, once upon a time. They look like the kind of fun group that Sora would want to join.

"We all graduated. We moved on to different things. We got married… Most of them became housewives. They moved to wherever their husbands got jobs." Toshiko breathes in and out. Her voice is tinged with guilt. "But I was never going to leave home. Not even for him."

"I see." Sora feels a familiar thorn in her heart. Her mother must feel so lonely. And yet, for the first time, Sora sympathizes with her mother's decision to stay in Tokyo. Sora has always wanted to travel, to get away from her mother's apartment, like a bird trapped in a bird cage. But now that Sora has traveled—to wonderful, magical lands that most people only dream of—Sora sees that her tiny apartment is a beautiful home. And her traditional mother was braver to keep her home than to abandon it. "I couldn't leave everything for a man either. No matter how much I loved him."

"Of course not!" Toshiko smiles at the girl and squeezes her shoulder. "I know you."

"Why did you stop playing tennis? You were so good at it!"

"Well, tennis is a two-player game, sweetie."

Sora's heartbeat flutters. "You never call me sweetie."

"Oh...Do you mind, Sora?"

"No, I like it!"

"Ah, that's good then, sweetie."

It does feel good. "Mom, can you teach me how to play tennis?"

Toshiko grins and her eyes light up. Then she laughs in a too-high tone of voice. "It's been so long…"

"But you still remember!"

"Of course I do." Toshiko brushes loose strands of red hair out of the girl's face. "I would love to teach you, daughter."

Sora beams, her heart racing. "Thanks Mom!" She suddenly throws her arms around the older woman's neck.

"Oof!" Toshiko is surprised, but quickly hugs her back. "Ah…Damn, I'm going to have to shave my legs again, to wear that kind of skirt."

Sora immediately bursts into laughter. "Mom! You don't need to wear a skirt for tennis if you don't want to. You can wear pants in a game with me."

"That wouldn't be proper tennis attire."

"It's only me."

"I need to do everything properly by you, daughter. You deserve it."

Sora blushes and hangs her head. "But I don't mind…if you're improper some of the time."

Toshiko stares at the beautiful girl in her arms, with the messy short hair and the holes in her socks. She won't keep making the same mistake with her. She kisses Sora's forehead. "Thank you, sweetie. I feel the same way about you. You know that, right?"

Sora shivers and smiles again. She nods.