The sports section of the newspaper reported Tezuka's victory a day later, as not only the U.S. Open champion but this year's Grand Slam champion.
He was twenty-eight, one of the youngest winners on record. The feature photo was shot against the stunning green grass and blue skies of the Flushing Meadows in mid-afternoon. Seemingly captured right after his last match, Tezuka still held his white Mizuno racket and his hair was half-matted to his forehead. He looked straight into the camera but wasn't smiling, as if hinting that his work didn't end at the Grand Slam title.
When Mayu finished reading the article, she went online to read up on his performance in the past year. Everywhere she saw praises, from his critics and opponents alike. There was, however, no mention of Ryoma. It was uncertain whether he'd participated in the tournaments at all.
Leaning back in her chair, Mayu thought with a bittersweet smile that they each got what they deserved. Thinking that, she shut down her computer and packed up to go home. At the reception, she stopped to check if there were any last-minute mails or packages for the office.
"No packages, Miss Ohara," said the burly concierge, "only a man."
Mayu blinked. "What?"
"I said, somebody's here for you. He's been waiting a while now."
"Why didn't you call me? You had my extension!"
"He specifically asked me not to ring you and simply tell you he's here when you got down."
Suddenly, Mayu was afraid that a nasty reporter was waiting to pounce on her with an interrogation. With a severe look, she said, "How could you have let a stranger loiter for so long? This man could be anybody!"
"I can assure you he's not." Looking past her shoulders, the concierge grinned, "Here he comes. You can see for yourself."
Mayu whipped around. Behind her stood Tezuka wearing a white shirt and dark blue trousers. When they saw each other, she thought she heard the dull collapse of her heart. In a flood of people leaving work, many heads turned when they noticed that a celebrity athlete was in their building lobby. When Tezuka didn't pay them any mind, Mayu suddenly felt very seen.
"Long time no see, Mayu," he said.
She nodded.
"Do you have a minute to spare?"
She nodded and followed him out into the streets. With summer already gone, a subtle chill infused the evening breeze. Tezuka walked ahead for several blocks until reaching a parkette tucked between skyscrapers. The setting sun bounced off glass panes, reflected off the opposite building and lit the patch of sky above it white.
He stopped under a maple tree, and she did too, keeping several paces away. When he turned around, her eyes couldn't help but wander out to the streets, afraid the ache she spent years trying not to feel would return.
Tezuka seemed not to notice her struggle as he spoke, "I wanted to come and thank you for the flowers."
She bit the inside of her cheeks. "What are you talking about?"
"Emily—the flower girl—told me everything," he said. "You might not have given her your name, but she's an eloquent girl. I knew from her descriptions that 'my biggest fan who didn't like like me' was you." After a short pause, he added, "I think she was relieved that I asked. I had a feeling she was dying to tell me about you."
"What made you think so?"
"She said you seemed sad when you said I was your old friend."
"She's observant, too."
"Inherited from her father, maybe. He used to be a top athlete in his former days."
Mayu nodded. Toying with the straps of her purse, she admitted, "I didn't want her to tell you because I didn't want to upset you."
"I'm not upset."
But you don't seem happy, either, Mayu wanted to say. Aloud, she asked, "How did you know where I worked?"
"I called your mother. She gave me your work address." When he saw Mayu's head snap up, he locked eyes with her, "You didn't tell her what happened. She had no clue we were separated."
"You didn't tell her what happened, did you?" she asked in a trembling voice.
He shook his head no. "What I don't understand is why you kept it a secret from her."
"I'm sorry, Tezuka. I hope you don't take it the wrong way. Please know that I couldn't tell her. Everyone on earth but her. It would cut her open."
"Why?"
"Because my father had an affair behind her back," said Mayu, pressing her eyes shut momentarily. "That's why she was cold towards you in the beginning: she was afraid you'd hurt me in the same way and I'd suffer like she did. That's why I was afraid to answer your feelings in Tokyo when we were eighteen. After seeing my father lie and then turn his back on my mother made me suspicious of men, especially Japanese men. And when my father died in an accident with his mistress, I always thought he deserved that awful ending."
Looking up at patches of iridescent skies between buildings, Mayu sighed, "But I turned out to be even more terrible than him because I brought you the same pain I'd witnessed. I'm sorry about what I did, and I'm sorry you have to hear this now."
He waited until her gaze moved back down to earth before speaking. "This is the second time I've heard you talk about your father."
"To be perfectly honest, I never thought I'd ever talk about him with you."
"It's a relief that you did," he said. "I always felt an invisible distance between us, a thin, undefinable barrier. This must be it."
"Maybe so."
"I suppose you'd also want to know what happened after you left Tokyo."
"I'd be lying to say that I didn't."
"Echizen and Ryuzaki separated a month after you left. She discovered that Ryoma was cheating on her with Hirose Kanae and cut off all contact with him. When he tried to explain things to her at the association, she ended things. Fairly publicly. Several staff overheard their conversation and the details of their breakup were leaked out. People talked everywhere they went. Ryuzaki wasn't able to take all the gossip and quit. After she left, everybody pointed fingers and blamed Hirose for being a homewrecker, so she quit as well."
Mayu let out a noise—it was somewhere between a laugh and a cry. She coughed to cover up the awful sound. "But not Echizen," she said dryly.
"No. The association needed his expertise, his English and his diplomatic knowledge. The last I heard, he's still climbing up the ranks."
"The last you heard?"
"I don't work there anymore. Haven't for years. I left Tokyo, stayed with my grandfather in the outskirts of Kyoto for a few months and decided that I want to compete again."
"You made the right decision," she said, forcing herself to smile. "You're made for the sport. Really. I may not know much about tennis, but I know from watching you play that you're cut out to be a champion."
"Know from watching me play now, or at Seigaku?" Keeping watch of her reactions, he said, "When I got your flowers, they all of a sudden reminded me of the week before you left Seigaku: you'd come to see the prefectural games. You sat in the last row of our opponent's bleachers and you didn't want to be seen."
Having her secret be revealed this many years later, Mayu's palms grew clammy but she didn't say a word.
"I was sincerely happy to see you there. In a way, I finally understood your feelings even though you refused to admit it. I decided then that we had to be together, whether you were in a different country or not, whether you were with someone or not. Seeing your flowers, delivered without a name, I realized those feelings never left and..."
She waited. The city was filled with noises and movements, yet they were deafening silence in her ears.
"I realized I forgave you quite some time ago," he said. "I forgive you because you came forward with the truth—one you could've hidden from me forever. It was difficult and painful for me to hear, of course, but just as painful for you to openly admit everything. Yet you chose to give me dignity and clarity on what happened rather than let some external force shatter our relationship and let it fall to pieces, like it did with Echizen and Ryuzaki."
"How could you have arrived at that conclusion?" she asked in a whisper. "Weren't you outraged that I destroyed everything?"
"Of course. That was why I quit the association: I couldn't stand being in the same room with Echizen knowing what he'd done behind my back. Though he wasn't a close friend, he had been somebody I held high hopes for: first to carry the school team forward and later to become a remarkable athlete. When both materialized, I thought I had a good grasp of his abilities and ambition, but I had not known his character. Never known his character."
Eyes on the ceaseless traffic, he went on, "After I quit, I did a lot of thinking. I went over every day of our lives in Tokyo, trying to pinpoint what went wrong, how things started to fall apart. It occurred to me that you weren't the only one to blame because I was negligent: my thoughts were fixated on serving the professional tennis scene in Japan and creating a legacy to make up for that elusive Grand Slam title. While trying to prove myself, I didn't consider your aspirations or what kind of life you wanted to lead. I was selfish enough to assume you'd be okay with whatever I decided and I drove you away."
Hands dropped to his side, he bowed to her deeply, "I'm sorry, too, for everything that happened."
"You don't have to apologize. Please don't apologize," she said, her voice breaking. Taking in a deep breath, Mayu steadied herself and dragged out a smile, "Thank you, for coming here, and for telling me everything."
"That's not everything," he said.
She waited.
"I've loved you since I was seventeen. It's been strange and painful to not be with you. Call it old-fashioned or stubborn, but I can't forget, and there can be no other except for you. All along, what I wanted with you was simple: to build a home I could come back to every night, hold my wife in my arms while the kids run around the living room." He paused. "Did you want that, too?"
"Of course I did. I always did. Still do." Finally, Mayu started crying, her tears coming so hard that she couldn't see a thing. "But would any of that be possible now? We can't go back. After what happened, after what I did, it's impossible to go back."
"Can't we?" He took a step forward. Recomposing himself, he said in a clear voice, "I'm Tezuka Kunimitsu. Nice to meet you."
Hastily wiping her eyes, Mayu looked at him: before her were vague outlines of his cedar-colored hair and rimless glasses, softened by the fading dusk. She looked at him as if they returned to the courts in springtime Tokyo, as if ten years had never gone by.
After several deep breaths, she pulled together a smile, stepped forward and said, "I'm Mayu. Ohara Mayu."
- end-