As the sun cast its golden hue through the windows of the Echizen household, a warm atmosphere enveloped the living room. Sakuno, her hair fluttering softly as she leaned closer to the floor where little Naoki scribbled diligently, couldn't help but smile at the boy's intense concentration.
"Wow, Naoki-kun. You are so good at drawing." She exclaimed, her voice lilted with genuine admiration. Naoki, a round-faced three-year-old with bright eyes, paused his work, glancing up at her with a toothy grin that melted her heart. "Who are you drawing?" She asked.
He pointed proudly at his crayon masterpiece, his small fingers smudged with colors. "Oneesan!"
Sakuno giggled, her cheeks flushing slightly. "You drew me? That's so sweet of you."
Ryoma seated comfortably on the couch, watched the scene unfold with a sense of quiet pride. His gaze flickered between Sakuno and Naoki; there was something undeniably enchanting about how effortlessly she connected with the young boy.
Next to Ryoma, Nanjiro engrossed in his newspaper, occasionally threw bemused glances over the top of the pages. The peaceful moment was interrupted by Rinko and Nanako stepping into the living space, laughter trailing behind them like a whisper.
"Sakuno-chan!" Rinko called out, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. "Let's go out now."
Ryoma looked up, curiosity piqued. "Mom, where are you taking her?"
Nanako chimed in, excitement bubbling in her tone, "I got three premium tickets for a spa. It'll be a lovely chance for Sakuno to relax."
Sakuno smiled brightly, her presence lighting up the room even more. "That sounds amazing."
"Yes. Sometimes you need a break," Rinko insisted gently. "It'll be good for you. Now come on."
Sakuno hesitated, her gaze drifting back to Ryoma. "I'll see you later, Ryoma-kun."
Ryoma nodded, a knot tightening in his chest as he watched her gather her things. A deeper part of him yearned for time alone with her, yet the practical side understood how important it was for her to unwind.
Nanjiro set down his newspaper and turned toward Ryoma with a teasing glint in his eye. "What's with that solemn look? Just because you're wed doesn't mean you have to be together every single second of the day. You still have your own lives, you know."
"We barely have any time together as it is," Ryoma retorted, the frustration in his voice clear as he leaned back against the couch, sighing.
"Must be busy with training and all that," his father teased, leaning in closer with a knowing smile. "But while you're waiting for Sakuno-chan, perhaps you can do something productive?"
"Like what?" Ryoma asked, feeling an uneasy twist of trepidation in his stomach.
Nanjiro pointed a playful finger at Naoki, who was still blissfully immersed in his artwork. "Well, now that the girls are gone, someone has to take care of him."
"What are you trying to do, Oyaji?" Panic washed over Ryoma's face.
But Nanjiro was already standing, preparing to leave. "You are married now. Just think of this as one of the parental lesson. Naoki, your uncle Ryoma will take care of you today." He grinned at the bewildered toddler, who stared at Ryoma with wide, innocent eyes.
"Hey! Oyaji! Where are you going?" Ryoma shouted after his father, but the older man waved him off dismissively, a mischievous spirit lingering in his departure.
Left alone with little Naoki, a sudden wave of dread came over Ryoma. The boy was not looking at him with the same trust he showed Sakuno. The little artist clutched his crayons tighter, perhaps sensing Ryoma's reluctance.
"Just keep drawing," Ryoma said awkwardly, unsure how to engage a child who was so focused on his artistry. Naoki's concentration remained unbroken.
With a sigh that echoed his anxiety, Ryoma reached for his phone and called his brother. It rang twice before Ryoga picked up, a hint of laughter bubbling in his voice. "Chibisuke. What's up?"
"Aniki, where are you? Come back quickly." Ryoma replied, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.
"Why the rush? I have something to do right now. Maybe 30 more minutes?" Ryoga said nonchalantly, and in the background, Ryoma could hear faint music, a telltale sign that his brother was likely at a café, probably enjoying a moment of peace while he could.
"There's Nanako-neesan's kid here right now. No one is looking after him," Ryoma said, shifting uneasily on his feet.
"You are there, right? That kid is really well-behaved. Don't worry much."
Just as Ryoma prepared to argue, he glanced down to find Naoki staring up at him, a look of utter discomfort written all over his small face. The boy squirmed slightly before announcing, "Pee, pee."
"What?" Ryoma's heart sank. He held the phone tighter, his brother's voice still ringing in his ears. "Aniki, what should I do? He says he needs to pee."
"Just bring him to the toilet! Chibisuke, I really need to hang up now," Ryoga said, clearly dismissing the matter.
With a mix of disbelief and urgency, Ryoma hung up and knelt down to Naoki's height. Before he could think too much about it, he lifted Naoki effortlessly and hurried toward the bathroom.
Once outside the bathroom, Ryoma set Naoki down and asked, "Do you know how to open your pants?" The boy nodded earnestly. "Good."
"You know how to pee by yourself?" Ryoma checked again. Naoki nodded, looking very serious. Ryoma hesitated. "I'll wait outside then."
As Ryoma turned to stand guard outside the restroom door, he couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility wash over him.
Moments passed, filled only with the sound of water splashing. "You done in there?" Ryoma called, but only silence greeted him. Growing more concerned, he reached out and peeked into the bathroom.
His heart dropped at the sight. Naoki stood at the sink, marveling at the tap water like it was a magical fountain. Water sprayed everywhere, drenching his shirt, the floor beneath him a small puddle.
"Hey! You shouldn't do that!" Ryoma exclaimed, moving quickly to turn off the tap. He sighed deeply as he looked at the mess before him: the child, the wet floor, and, more importantly, Naoki's bewildered expression.
Naoki's lips curving into an apologetic smile that made Ryoma's frustration melt away. How could he stay mad when Naoki looked so innocent, just caught up in the moment?
"It's alright," Ryoma said softly. "Just… let's try to keep the water in the sink next time, okay?" Naoki nodded, and Ryoma felt a surge of affection. He tousled the boy's hair gently, the tension of the moment dissipating like steam.
Naoki grabbed the hem of his shirt, trying to wring it out in a futile attempt to dry himself, which only made Ryoma laugh. "Let's get you cleaned up first."
"Wait here; I'll go get a towel," he said, his voice steady despite the flutter of unease in his stomach. He rummaged through the bag placed in the living room. His fingers danced over the texture of clothing until he felt the soft cotton of a towel. With the prize secured, he dashed back to the bathroom.
Inside, Naoki was still sitting on the toilet lid, a mixture of confusion and shyness etched on his small face, his shirt clinging awkwardly to his body. Ryoma knelt before him, the towel in hand, ready to help.
"Let's get you cleaned up," Ryoma said gently, peeling away the damp shirt. He wiped down Naoki's arms and chest, careful to keep their playful mood intact. Then, he brought Naoki to the living room.
"Let's wear something else." Ryoma rummaged through Naoki's bag, mirroring the determination he'd always applied to tennis. "Can you wear your own clothes?" he asked, eyes bright with encouragement.
Naoki shook his head, frustration furrowing his brow. "Can't."
Ryoma deftly held the new shirt up, showing Naoki the front. "See this side? It goes over your head first, then the hands."
Tentatively, Naoki pulled the shirt over his head, but it twisted oddly as he fumbled for the sleeves. Ryoma sighed. "Not quite like that." He helped straighten the fabric, fastening the shirt properly around Naoki's small frame.
"Now, pants?" Ryoma asked. Naoki nodded vigorously, peering into the bag, determined to try again. With a careful tug, the boy managed to pull on his pants, one leg after another.
Ryoma smiled as the little boy beamed with accomplishment, his smile wide and infectious.
With a hand on his belly, Naoki looked up, eyes innocent and wide. "I'm hungry."
"Hungry?" Ryoma felt a jolt of responsibility surge through him. He grabbed his phone, hardly aware of his own heartbeat pounding in his chest. His mom's name lit up on the screen, and he hit dial.
"Mom?" he asked when she picked up, her voice flowing through the speaker like warm honey.
"Ryoma, is something wrong?" she asked, concern lacing her tone.
"What food do Nanako-neesan's kids eat?" he blurted out, looking at Naoki who was now tugging at his shirt sleeves nervously.
"Seriously, where did Nanjiro go?" Rinko admonished. "I told him there's a snack for Naoki on the table! Just let him have the biscuits and fruits first; he already had breakfast. For lunch later, give him the curry rice."
Ryoma scratched his head, feeling the rush of being responsible washing over him. "On the table?" he repeated, more to reassure himself than anything else.
"Yes, just check the table. It's all sorted," Rinko replied before the line went dead.
Meanwhile, at the spa, Rinko, Nanako, and Sakuno lounged in luxurious warmth. Sage-green tiles surrounded them, offering a serene escape from the world outside. Sakuno turned to Rinko with an eager expression. "Is that Ryoma-kun?"
Rinko smiled softly, a proud gleam sparkling in her eyes. "Yes, I wonder if he can manage taking care of Naoki."
Concern flickered across Nanako's features. "Should we go back? I'm worried about Ryoma-san."
"Don't worry," Rinko reassured her, dipping her fingers into the bubbling water as she looked at Sakuno. "He can handle it. Besides, he needs to learn a few things about kids, right?"
Sakuno felt warmth bloom in her cheeks at the thought of Ryoma wrestling with parenting.
Back in the living room, Ryoma found the plates of biscuits and a tiny cup filled with colorful fruits. He laid them out for Naoki, who was now enthusiastically bouncing on the balls of his feet with anticipation.
Ryoma leaned back on the couch, glancing at the vibrant scribbles of crayon that adorned the paper spread before him. His phone buzzed; it was Ryoga.
"What happened to your 30 minutes?" Ryoma asked, trying to mask his annoyance.
"Can't help it, there's traffic jam here," Ryoga replied, his voice slightly muffled. Ryoma sighed, his eyes drifting back to Naoki's last masterpiece, only to realize the little boy was no longer sitting there, a biscuit crumb still dusting the table.
"Are you okay? Have you taken the kid to the toilet yet?" Ryoga continued.
"Yeah," Ryoma answered absentmindedly, panic bubbling inside him as he scanned the room. "Wait. That kid is gone."
"What?!" Ryoga sounded alarmed.
Ryoma hung up, leaping from the couch. He dashed through each room of the house, calling out Naoki's name, but there was no answer. Heart pounding, Ryoma burst through the front door and stopped short at the sight before him.
There, perched precariously on a low branch of the sturdy old tree in the yard, was Naoki, completely absorbed in watching a nest of baby birds. The chirping filled the air as their mother flitted around, bringing tiny morsels to her young.
"What are you doing up there?" Ryoma called, trying to keep his tone light despite the thrill of fear coursing through him.
"Bird!" Naoki exclaimed, blissfully ignoring the concern lacing Ryoma's voice.
Ryoma said cautiously, "you can't touch the baby birds. Their mom would get angry."
"Angry?" Naoki tilted his head, confusion replacing his initial excitement.
"Yeah, just look and don't touch," Ryoma instructed gently, trying to maintain a watchful eye on him. He felt an overwhelming need to ensure Naoki was safe as the little boy continued to observe the tender exchange between the mother bird and her chicks.
After a while, Ryoma broke the silence. "Are you done?" Naoki nodded eagerly but did not appear to understand the danger of his current position. "Okay, then come down carefully."
Naoki began to climb down gently, but suddenly his foot slipped. In a swift motion fueled by panic, Ryoma dashed forward, extending his arms just in time to catch the child before he fell.
"Why were you climbing if you don't know how to come down?" Ryoma asked, exasperation lacing his voice. Naoki looked up, eyes wide, and then melted into tears.
Ryoma's heart softened. "Alright, alright," he soothed, holding the boy tightly. "It's okay now." Gradually, Naoki's hiccuping sobs subsided, and Ryoma patted his back until he calmed down.
Exhausted from the scare, Ryoma lay down on the couch, surrendering to fatigue. He hardly noticed when Naoki clambered back onto him, curling up like a sleepy kitten against his side. Within moments, both were lost in a peaceful slumber, the chaos of the world fading away.
Not long after, the front door swung open with a creak, and Rinko, Nanako, and Sakuno entered, laughter filling the air as they chatted excitedly about their day. Rinko, eyes scanning the room, paused, searching for signs of Naoki.
"I wonder where Naoki went," she murmured, looking a bit worried.
Nanako smiled mischievously, eager to show something. "Aunt, Sakuno-chan, come here."
She led the way, and as they approached the couch, the scene before them warmed their hearts: Ryoma and Naoki, entwined in a serene embrace, shared a moment of pure tranquility beneath the colorful blanket of afternoon sun. Sakuno smiled warmly looking at the scene.
"Let them sleep," Rinko suggested softly. "They must've had quite a day."
Ryoga burst through the door, his heart racing as he called out, "Chibisuke!" Panic surged through him for reasons he couldn't fully articulate. Rinko, Sakuno, and Nanako looked up at him, a mixture of surprise and concern painted across their faces.
Rinko quickly pressed her index finger to her lips, signaling him to keep quiet. The room was filled with an air of secrecy, and Ryoga followed her gaze. His eyes widened at the sight before him: Ryoma, sprawled on a nearby couch, fast asleep, with Naoki nestled beside him. A wave of relief washed over Ryoga; Naoki wasn't lost after all.
Dinner time arrived, filling the room with the delightful aroma of home-cooked dishes. The group settled around a large table, laughter mingling with the clinking of chopsticks. With a playful glint in his eyes, Ryoga leaned towards Ryoma and declared, "You were even worse when you were a child, you know! Didn't you remember that time you stole oranges from the neighbor's yard?"
Ryoma shot him a look of mock indignation, shaking his head. "That was because you were the one who took me."
Sakuno giggled, her cheeks flushed with warmth at the impromptu trip down memory lane of Ryoma's childhood.
"He even cried like a baby when I was about to go back to Spain," Ryoga teased again, his voice bright and full of mischief.
Ryoma rolled his eyes, dismissing the teasing with a nonchalant "Tch," but even he couldn't help the amusement lurking at the corners of his mouth. The stories spun around the table, knitting the family bonds closer together, a tapestry of shared experiences and forgotten childhood wonders.
As dinner wound down and they prepared to leave, Sakuno gently lifted Karupin into her arms. Ryoga approached Ryoma with a small smile, presenting him with a flash drive. "Here, this is for you. It's Tezuka's matches during the France Open and Wimbledon. You're going to face him at the US Open, right?"
"Thanks," Ryoma replied, genuine gratitude softening his usually stoic demeanor.
After shared farewells, Ryoma and Sakuno returned to their apartment, the comforting familiarity wrapping around them like a blanket. Once settled, they lay side by side on their bed, staring at the ceiling which had seen countless dreams and whispered secrets.
Sakuno broke the silence, her voice thoughtful as she said, "Kids are cute, aren't they?"
Ryoma turned his head to look at her, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "Why? Do you want to have a baby?"
Instantly, Sakuno's cheeks blazed crimson, caught off guard by his directness. "W-well… it's not so bad," she stammered, her heartbeat quickening. "A child that resembles both of us…"
He watched her closely, gauging her earnestness. "Are you sure?"
Sakuno nodded shyly, her heart swelling with the thought of their future. "Yes," she murmured, a shy smile creeping onto her lips.
Ryoma reached over, taking her hand in his, the warmth of his palm drawing her in. "I will be traveling a lot next year for tournaments. I wouldn't want you to handle everything alone," he admitted, sincerity etched in his features. "Let's think about it again after the US Open."
Sakuno nodded, smiling gently. With the gentle pressure of his hand, he pulled her closer, enveloping her in a tight embrace. They lay there together, hearts beating in rhythmic harmony, each enjoying the delicate intimacy of the moment.
"I'll be cheering for you at the US Open, Ryoma-kun," Sakuno promised softly, her breath warm against his shoulder.
A thoughtful silence lingered between them, the weight of possibilities hanging in the air. Ryoma smiled softly, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Thanks."
Night finally draped its curtain over the world, but for Sakuno and Ryoma, the promise of tomorrow felt bright and vibrant. The imagery of a family dance played in their minds, not merely of a child but of love that would weave them all closer together.