Ryoma opened the door to his apartment. He stood while the other hand holding his mother's luggage, glimpsing the excited faces of his parents. "This is my apartment," he declared, gesturing for them to step inside.
Rinko peered around, her eyes sparkling with approval. "It looks nice," she said, stepping further into the cozy space, her maternal instinct evaluating every detail.
Nanjiro, sprawled lazily on the couch, grunted. "What an exhausting day," he sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions like a man relieved to return to a sanctuary.
Rinko drifted toward the kitchen, her curiosity piqued. "Wow, you have complete utensils too!"
"Yeah, Sakuno brought them all," Ryoma answered with a hint of warmth in his voice. It wasn't just the domesticity; it was the memories of cooking together that made him smile.
"Oh, so she came and cooked?" his mother inquired, her smile broadening.
"Yeah, sometimes. She took care of the house when I was in the US."
"I see." Rinko nodded appreciatively. "No wonder the apartment looks clean." She walked over to the luggage that Ryoma had just dragged in, checking to see if they had brought everything necessary for their stay.
Ryoma gestured toward a room across from him. "You both can sleep here. I already prepared the room before you came."
Rinko's face lit up with gratitude. "Thank you, Ryoma."
Nanjiro, meanwhile, had settled more comfortably into the couch, a lazy grin plastered on his face. "By the way, Nanako said she wants to come help with the wedding."
Ryoma shrugged. "It's nothing to help, really. We're only doing a small wedding."
Rinko's mind, however, was already churning with ideas. "Maybe you can ask Nanako's son to walk down the aisle with the rings?"
Nanjiro's brow furrowed in thought. "Oh, how old is her son now? It's been so long since we saw her after she got married."
"Three years old, right?" Rinko said, nostalgic. "Time sure flies."
As the evening wore on, Ryoma found himself wandering out of his bedroom for a glass of water, the soft glow of the living room illuminating his father sprawled out on the couch.
"Are you not sleeping, Oyaji?" Ryoma peered at Nanjiro, who turned around with a mischievous grin.
"I'm reading this," his father replied, holding up a dirty magazine that elicited an immediate eye-roll from Ryoma.
"You want to join me?" Nanjiro teased, waving the magazine playfully.
Ryoma grimaced, shooting him a bored look. "No thanks."
"Come on," Nanjiro laughed, tossing the magazine onto the table as if it were a trophy. Catching a glimpse of another magazine featuring a sports championship under the dirty magazine, Ryoma hesitated but then picked it up, a smirk creeping onto his face as memories rushed back.
"What is this? Are you missing me or what?" he teased, settling down beside his father. Ryoma scoffed, flipping through the pages and finding himself smirking as he landed on a picture of his former self from a championship he once dominated.
"Who would miss a guy like you?" Nanjiro shot back, feigning indifference. "I'd rather reminisce about the flight attendant lady," Nanjiro responded, chuckling.
"Yeah, you should do that," Ryoma shot back, his tone lightening.
Nanjiro studied his son and spoke with a glint of sincerity in his eyes. "You are cold as ever. I wonder what that old hag's granddaughter sees in you."
"I wonder about that too. You want a drink, Oyaji?" Ryoma interrupted, keen to shift the focus away from himself.
"Yeah."
Ryoma rummaged through the fridge, producing a beer can. "I only have one of this."
Nanjiro raised an eyebrow. "You don't drink?"
"Barely. I have no time for that," Ryoma replied, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration.
"Tch, you have to take a break sometimes. Life isn't all about tennis," Nanjiro scolded lightly. "And now you'll have someone to take care of."
"I know about that," Ryoma said, his tone softening at the thought of Sakuno.
Nanjiro popped the can open, taking a slow sip while leaning back.
"How are you these days?" Ryoma asked.
"Perfectly fine. I'm not going to die yet." Nanjiro quipped, though memories of himself collapse during the U17 tournament 10 years ago flashed through his mind, reminding him of how much things had changed, especially on how Ryoma treat him.
"Yeah, don't die yet, Oyaji," Ryoma replied, sharing a moment of seriousness that hung between them, threads of unspoken vulnerability connecting father and son.
"Stay alive until I'm old," Ryoma added, smirking to deflect the tension.
Nanjiro chuckled, shaking his head. "What, are you going to take care of me for the rest of your life?"
"I will," Ryoma replied, his tone earnest.
The silent hung up between them. "Why are you being so serious?" Nanjiro's demeanor shifted again, as he tossed the dirty magazine at Ryoma with a playful glint in his eye. "Here, take a look at this!"
Ryoma's eye twitched, his veins popping. "I'm going to throw this!"
Nanjiro roared with laughter. "Come on, you really need this. Oh, you're getting married soon. Should I teach you some first-night techniques?" He said while grinning.
Ryoma cringed, the redness creeping onto his cheeks. "You are gross!"
As the banter continued, Rinko peeked out from the room, a smile brightening her face. The exchange was a reminder of their bond, solid yet playful, allowing warmth to blossom in the moments leading up to Ryoma's wedding.
Meanwhile, at the Ryuzaki's residence. On the bed, two figures lay nestled within a cocoon of blankets, a perfect haven for secrets and dreams.
Tomoka shifted slightly to face Sakuno, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes. "I can't believe you and Ryoma-sama are getting married," she said, her voice laced with both disbelief and excitement.
Sakuno felt her cheeks warm as a rosy blush spread across her face, her smile radiant as it was shy. "Yes, it still feels surreal for me too."
With an inquisitive tilt of her head, Tomoka nudged gently, tracing invisible patterns on the blanket. "So, do you feel like you're both living in different worlds now?"
Sakuno's gaze softened, reflecting a depth beyond her years. "No," she said thoughtfully. "I guess we are on the same page now."
Tomoka grinned widely, her heart soaring at her friend's happiness. "That's great!"
"What about you and Horio-kun?" Sakuno replied, shifting the conversation with a tender curiosity.
Tomoka let out a small sigh, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "We probably will take longer. We're both so busy with work." She paused, her expression momentarily clouding over. "I miss Ai…"
Sakuno giggled, recalling their playful group dynamic. "Me too."
"She's amazing," Tomoka said. "Didn't she get a job in the US after earning her master's from Harvard?"
"Yeah, Ume called me and said she is there too for the ballroom dancing competition." Sakuno responded, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"I know," Tomoka said, her tone growing a little melancholic. "Everyone's leaving for the US." A frown tugged at her lips, and she tried to hide it but failed.
"It's okay, Tomo-chan," Sakuno said gently, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "We will meet again."
Tomoka chuckled lightly, the sadness lifting just a little. "Yeah, but I'll miss the girls talking."
Sakuno wrapped her arms around her friend, pulling her into a cozy embrace. "Oh well, I'm still happy for you and Ryoma-sama though. I promise I'll take tons of pictures for your wedding."
"Thank you, Tomo-chan," Sakuno smiled, her heart swelling with gratitude. They stayed like that for a while, enveloped in the warmth of friendship, lost in thoughts about the future.
As Tomoka drifted off to sleep, Sakuno's eyes looked to the ceiling, mind filled with thoughts of her upcoming wedding. She couldn't help but feel nervous about the big day.
At Ryoma's apartment, his parents also succumbed to sleep, unaware of their son's restless mind. Ryoma, in his own room, tossed and turned, feeling the weight of the impending commitment.
But as they lay in their beds, each lost in their own thoughts, a sense of calm washed over them. They both knew that the love they shared was strong enough to conquer any doubts or fears.
In the darkness of the night, Sakuno and Ryoma both smiled, their hearts intertwined even across the distance. They were ready to face whatever things lay ahead, knowing that as long as they had each other, they could overcome anything.