Today was the day of the journey of Sakuno to the United States withRyoma. As she took in the familiar sights and sounds, her gaze flitted from the numerous travelers to the small circle of loved ones who came to bid her farewell.

"Take care, Sakuno! I will miss you a lot," Tomoka exclaimed, wrapping her arms tightly around Sakuno in a warm embrace. The two had shared countless memories together, laughter echoing through their days from the junior high.

"Me too, Tomo-chan," Sakuno replied, returning the hug with equal enthusiasm, her heart swelling with friendship.

Horio stepped forward, his usual bravado softened by the occasion. He extended his hand towards Ryoma, a mix of admiration and camaraderie in his eyes. "Till we meet again, Echizen," he said, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his voice.

Ryoma smiled, a rare expression that he showed. He shook Horio's hand firmly. "Yeah."

As the time drew closer, Sayaka stepped forward, emotion heavy in her eyes. She enveloped her daughter in a hug so tight it seemed to convey all the unspoken words of love in their years together. "Take care of yourself, my darling," she said, her voice trembling.

Sakuno managed a soft smile, though concern mirrored in her features. "Yes, mom." She gently wiped away the tears that began to spill down her mother's cheeks with her thumb, reassuring her. "Don't cry, Mom."

Sayaka smiled through her tears, the pride shining through. "Yes, my little girl is grown up now."

Beside Sayaka, Shinji rubbed her back, trying to soothe the emotional waves. "It's okay, Sayaka, we can always go to the US if we miss her," he offered gently, grounding his wife amidst her swirling emotions.

"I know," Sayaka nodded, finally regaining some composure.

With a deep, comforting hug, Shinji turned to Sakuno, wrapping her tightly in his arms. "Take good care of yourself. If you ever want to come back, we will always be here in Japan for you," he assured her, his voice firm yet tender.

Sakuno felt warmth radiate from her father's words, filling her with a sense of safety. "Yes, thank you, Dad."

Sumire was the last to approach. Her smile was a gentle beacon, eyes sparkling with love and pride. "It's really a blessing to watch you grow up and got married," she said, her tone full of maternal wisdom. "I will miss you a lot, Sakuno."

"I will miss you too, Grandma," Sakuno said, feeling the weight of their connection.

As the announcement blared through the speaker, signifying the imminent departure, Sakuno felt her heart race. "Narita to New York, please assemble at gate 1."

Shinji pulled Ryoma aside for a moment, an earnest look on his face. "Take care of yourself and Sakuno," he advised, a weight of responsibility lingering in his tone.

Ryoma simply nodded, his hazel eyes filled with quiet determination. "Yeah."

The moment had come. Sakuno and Ryoma turned to face their family and friends one last time. They waved, smiles plastered on their faces as they embraced the unknown that lay ahead.

In the plane, the confined space felt both intimate and overwhelming. Sakuno found herself seated next to Ryoma. She looked out the window, watching the world grow smaller beneath them. A mix of nervousness and exhilaration washed over her as they ascended into the sky.

Leaning against his shoulder, she intertwined their arms, finding comfort in his presence. In that moment, the chaos of the airport faded into the background, and the vast possibilities of the journey ahead unfolded before them, like the endless blue sky outside the window.

As they soared through the clouds, Sakuno closed her eyes, allowing herself to drift into thoughts of all that awaited them—the excitement of new places, the thrill of fresh experiences, and the bond they were building along the way. She could feel Ryoma's steady heartbeat next to her, anchoring her amidst the swirling uncertainties.

About 14 hours after that, the bright lights of New York City flickered like stars as Ryoma and Sakuno stepped onto the bustling streets. The sounds of honking cars and laughter filled the air, creating a vibrant backdrop to their new life. With an excited grip on his wife's hand, Ryoma led her towards their new apartment, tucked away in a quaint corner of the city.

As they reached the door and Ryoma unlocked it, Sakuno's heart raced with anticipation. The moment they stepped inside, she took a deep breath that mingled with the faint scent of fresh paint, peeking into the modest living room. The space was indeed filled with potential—a soft couch awaited a splash of color, and the fridge stood like a sentinel, faithfully ready to be stocked with their favorite foods.

Sakuno turned to Ryoma, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. "Is this your apartment?"

Ryoma smiled softly, closing the door behind them. "It's our apartment. I bought it before I went to Japan for the wedding preparations."

His words were like a warm blanket wrapping around hers. "I see. It's really nice." She couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of belonging wash over her.

"Glad you like it. I didn't buy too much furniture." He paused for effect, letting a playful glint shine in his eyes. "I thought we could do it together."

Her heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness. Sakuno beamed, the excitement bubbling up within her. "Really?"

"Of course," he replied, his tone tender. "You can decorate this place however you want."

"Thank you, Ryoma-kun." She exclaimed, her smile infectious as she began to imagine how she would fill the rooms with warmth and love.

As she explored the apartment, running her fingers along the walls, Ryoma made quick work of bringing in their luggage to their room. Every piece seemed to carry memories yet to be made, promising a future steeped in shared experiences.

Moments later, Ryoma returned, tennis bag slung over his shoulder. "Sorry, I need to head to the tennis center to meet my manager."

Sakuno nodded, understanding his commitment to his career. "Okay. I'll just be here unpacking."

They walked together to the entrance, where Ryoma knelt to tie his shoelaces. Sakuno crouched beside him, her expression softening as she watched him focus. "When does your teaching start?" he asked, glancing up at her.

"Well, the school said I can start tomorrow," she replied, a hint of nerves creeping in.

"Rest well today then," he encouraged, his voice low and soothing, making her feel at ease.

"Okay," she smiled brightly, her nervousness fading.

As Ryoma grabbed his tennis bag, the moments of silence between them felt charged with unspoken words. Turning towards her, he looked expectantly into her eyes, waiting.

"Be careful," she said softly, wanting to convey her support for him.

But Ryoma smirked, a mischievous twinkle dancing in his gaze. "No goodbye kiss?"

Sakuno's cheeks flushed a deep crimson as realization washed over her. She stammered, "Eh? W-well…"

In a sudden burst of courage, she pulled gently at his arm, encouraging him to lean down. She intended to kiss his cheek, but Ryoma played his card deftly, turning his head at the last moment to capture her lips.

A rush of warmth spread through her, electrifying every nerve. "Mada mada dane, Sakuno," he teased, his voice a mix of playful and affectionate.

"Mou…" she protested lightly, but it came out as a breathy giggle, her heart soaring. Watching him retreat through the door, she felt a blend of pride and love.

With one final wave, he disappeared into the busy streets. Alone now, Sakuno turned back to the apartment, her mind buzzing—this was their beginning.

At the tennis center, the conference room reverberated with unspoken tension. Sunlight filtered through tall windows, casting a warm glow on the leather-bound folders and glossy images of grand tennis tournaments plastered across the wall. Here, amidst the hum of ambition and camaraderie, the US tennis team gathered, oblivious to the storm brewing just outside their bubble.

Steve Meyer, the team manager, sat at the head of the table, glancing through a pile of documents. His brow furrowed, revealing the strains of managing not just athletes, but personalities. Among them was Kevin Smith, an up-and-coming player whose blond hair glimmered like the trophies he aspired to win. He leaned forward, curiosity etched in his features.

"Ryoma won the Australian Open this year," Steve mentioned casually, barely looking up. "I'm considering sending him to the French Open next, but he said he will skip it this year. Too bad, I thought I can help him to get the Grand Slam title this year."

"What?!" Kevin exclaimed, his voice a mix of disbelief and frustration. "How could he even think of passing that opportunity?"

Steve let out a weary sigh. "He's the only player I can't seem to control. You know how he is, always doing whatever he wants. But with the highest points on the team, I can't really argue. He did pretty good."

Billy Cassidy, the cowboy-style player of the group with his rugged charm, chuckled. "Well, that sounds fine to me. He's the best player here. I don't think I'll ever catch up to him anyway."

Kevin's confusion deepened. "But why would he skip the French Open?"

"Well," Steve replied, finally lifting his gaze, "didn't I mention? He went back to Japan to get married."

Kevin shot up from his seat, his expression one of sheer astonishment. "What?! That wasn't a joke?"

"Of course not." Steve replied, shaking his head at Kevin's incredulity. "Did I ever joke with you?"

"I didn't know Ryoma was the marrying type," Billy mused, a mixture of respect and surprise coloring his tone.

Kevin's face twisted into dissatisfaction. "So he just ditches the French Open for some girl?"

"Hey, Kevin," Billy interrupted, nudging him playfully. "Watch it. I have a girlfriend too, you know. I will do anything too for her."

Steve chuckled lightly. "If that girl managed to steal the cold, icy prince's heart, she must be someone extraordinary."

Sakuno wiped the plate that she just washed. With delicate hands, she did it easily. Yet, the tranquility shattered with the sudden slip of a plate, sending fragments skittering across the tiled floor.

"Oh no, what should I do?" she gasped, her heart racing as she knelt to pick up the pieces. In her flurry of movements, she scratched her index finger against a sharp shard, wincing as the sting of pain reminded her of her clumsiness. "Why am I always so careless?"

Ryoma entered the conference room with a nonchalant look on his face, but deep down he could feel the tension in the air crackling like electricity. Steve's cheerful greeting was met with a casual response from Ryoma, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off.

As he took his seat at the table, he noticed Kevin shooting him a glare from across the room. Ryoma furrowed his brows in confusion, wondering what he could have possibly done to earn such animosity from him.

As the meeting ended and most everyone left the room, leaving Ryoma and Kevin. Ryoma stood up from the conference room table, his mind still swirling with thoughts, Kevin's voice cut through the air, heavy with an accusatory tone. "Hey Ryoma, is it true what I heard?"

Ryoma hesitated, momentarily confused. "What?"

Kevin leaned forward, his frustration palpable. "Is it true you ditched the French Open just to get married?"

A deep sigh escaped Ryoma's lips, and he met Kevin's penetrating gaze. "So what if it's true?"

Kevin scoffed, disbelief etched across his face. "Don't you remember something?"

Ryoma gave him another confused look, "what do you mean?"

Kevin said with frustration, "we're supposed to be taking over our dad's dream!"

The silence between them stretched uncomfortably, and Ryoma felt the weight of Kevin's words settle upon him like an unwelcome cloak. He looked at Kevin, their shared history crashing through his thoughts. "I can manage it myself."

With a firm resolve, Ryoma turned to leave. Yet Kevin's voice called him back, tinged with genuine curiosity. "I don't get it. What's so special about this girl?"

Ryoma paused, his heart tightening. "What are you talking about? She's got nothing to do with this," he replied, trying to brush off the question, feeling annoyed with Sakuno's name got entangled.

"Come on, Ryoma! You skipped this tournament because of her!" Kevin's voice rose, a mix of anger and confusion. It struck a nerve, and Ryoma spun around, meeting Kevin's eyes with fierceness.

"Hey, Kevin. Are you sure you want to take over your dad's dream?" Ryoma challenged, watching Kevin's expression shift.

"What do you mean?" Kevin's brow furrowed.

"You said your dad has been pushing you hard," Ryoma said, his voice calm but firm. "He's been hurting you, forcing you to play tennis. Are you sure you enjoy it for yourself and not just because of him forcing you to do it?"

A flicker of uncertainty crossed Kevin's features. He opened his mouth, then closed it, unable to articulate the turmoil inside. Ryoma sensed his friend's struggle, the tangled web of familial expectations binding him tighter than any match point.

Before either could continue, Billy peeked into the room, a cheerful grin plastered across his face. "Hey, what are you two still doing here?" he asked innocently.

Ryoma forced a casual smile, though inside, he felt a storm brewing. "It's nothing. I'm going to train," he said, brushing past Billy and out of the room, leaving behind a confused Billy and a speechless Kevin.

As Ryoma stepped out onto the sunlit courtyard of the training facility, he inhaled deeply, allowing the familiar scent of fresh grass and sunlight to wash over him. But his heart was still heavy. He looked at the tennis court in front of him, making him remembered his father. "Oyaji, when you said I will understand it when I get older on how you get stronger, I think I finally understand it." He whispered to the wind, his words carried away by the gentle breeze.