The resounding cheers from the match echoed through the building, instantly grabbing Yuki's attention. Standing there, he couldn't shake the thought that perhaps a hockey match was underway on the rink. It was May already, and league selections weren't slated until the next month. Maybe, he speculated, it was just a warm-up match for Misawa High School.

The urge to steal a glance inside tugged at him irresistibly. It had been five long years since he'd last seen a hockey game, be it live or on television. He didn't exactly miss hockey, he was just curious. Most of his memories associated with the rink were ones he'd rather not dwell on. Yet, the spirited cheers of the spectators stirred up a nostalgic excitement within him. In this city, hockey reigned supreme as the most beloved sport. Misawa's fields were too wet and cold for football, baseball, or other sports, leaving ice as the reliable go-to—its perpetually frozen state guaranteed by the region's chilly climate.

Tucking the collar of his jacket, he noted the noticeably warmer air of the current year. Areas that were once dense with trees now buzzed with the construction of new buildings. It made him wonder: if temperatures kept rising and the ice failed to hold, what sports would the people of Misawa turn to? Water polo, perhaps?

Another round of cheers erupted from inside, likely signaling a goal scored. He sighed, abandoning his initial urge to step into the rink. He was afraid someone would recognize him, although it was quite unlikely. He had changed his appearance—so drastically that not even Sazae-san, whom he bumped into at the station, recognized him. He preferred not to take any chances. It was safer to keep his distance.

He lingered in the bustling parking lot, reluctant to return to the inn. The asphalt, typically blanketed in ice, now bore large patches of rainwater, creating intricate patterns. He found himself drawn to a spot a few meters away from the rink's entrance. Something important had happened there five years ago. If only, he wondered, that fateful night the asphalt hadn't been frozen....

The bell's loud resonance filled the air from within. Twenty minutes had passed. By his calculation, the game now be transitioning into the third round.

He strolled towards the edge of the parking lot, where a row of keyaki trees stood tall behind a cluster of bonsai, their vibrant shoots adorned in deep orange and red hues, joyfully celebrating spring. A wooden bench nestled under the canopy of one of these trees. Stepping over the bonsai, he settled onto the bench. The atmosphere remained unchanged. The only difference now was that five years ago, he had someone by his side in this very spot.

...

"There you are!" Ryoji's voice broke through my thoughts as he approached, one hand carrying his ice skates.

"Your father and mother are here. They just arrived," he informed me.

"I know..." I shifted to make room beside me on the bench. "That's why I'm hiding here. What about your family?"

"Tsubaki and her parents are at home. Business stuff," Ryoji replied with a grin. "My parents won't come."

"Oh. Your girlfriend, huh?" I teased.

Ryoji sat next to me, wrapping his arms around my back. He playfully tickled my waist. "If Tsubaki is my girlfriend, then what are you?"

"Don't," I gently pushed him away. "People will see us later."

He chuckled, but obediently withdrew his hand. Ryoji unzipped his jacket and reached inside, pulling out something and handing it to me. "Look."

It was a photo. A snapshot of the two of us taken during our recent trip to Hachinohe. We had been busy with months of practice, leaving little time for outings. It just so happened that the Tohoku Free Blades were having a sparring match there, so I used it as an excuse with Father to go out. Ryoji insisted it was our first official date. Previous outings were simply considered "hangouts."

"Why did you print the photo? You could've just saved it on your phone," I asked.

"Well, why not? It's nice to have a physical copy," Ryoji blushed slightly. "You keep this one. I have one too."

"Thank you," I replied, touched by the gesture.

I glanced at the photo for a moment before tucking it into my jacket pocket. In the picture, we were grinning widely and throwing up peace signs with our fingers. We looked like the closest of pals. It shouldn't raise any eyebrows.

"You do realize the match is inside, right?" Ryoji quipped. "Not under this tree."

"Yeah, I know," I replied, sneaking a peek at my watch. Thirty minutes to go. "I just... I'm not feeling up to playing."

"You mean you're not up for playing center?" Ryoji's tone was sympathetic, revealing his knack for understanding my inner turmoil. I never kept anything from him.

"Because your father will be watching, huh?" he added, nodding knowingly.

"Not just Father, but half of Misawa..." I muttered, feeling a wave of discomfort wash over me. "Coach Yamada knows I'm not meant for center or any other forward position. At best, I handle defense during training—and even then, I never seem to please him. So why did he stick me on the left wing? Especially in such an important match!"

Ryoji started wiping the ice skates with the hem of his jacket. "Wanna switch position? I can tell the Coach."

"I tried. He didn't let me." I sighed. "Tachibana on the right wing would have a field day teasing me for chickening out. And there's no way I could fill in for Kitamura and the others on defense—my size just doesn't cut it, while the Stormterror team's forwards are literally giants. That only leaves the goalie spot. But you know my Achilles' heels."

"You're not alone, Takeru. I'm right there at center, alongside Tachibana. I know he can be rough with you sometimes, but I highly doubt he'd pull anything under Yamada's watchful eye. We've got each other's backs, okay?"

Suddenly, it clicked. Coach Yamada had orchestrated all of this. Call it negative thinking or whatever, but I was certain of it. "Yamada intentionally put me to the left wing so that my father could witness firsthand how bad I perform, then use it as an excuse to kick me off the team."

"Now wait a minute," Ryoji interjected, his gaze sharp. "There are a lot of holes in your theory. Firstly, Yamada has been training us like soldiers for the past six months for this match. He wouldn't risk our team's success just to get your father's attention. Plus, he and your father are good friends, right? If Yamada really wanted to boot you off the team, he could just talk to your father directly. Secondly, you're not a bad player at all. Just last week, you tackled me three times and scored."

"I think you let me score on purpose," I countered.

"I would never do something like that to you," Ryoji insisted, looking hurt. "Because if I did, it would mean I doubt your abilities. In every training session, you manage to get past Yamamoto, Kitamura, and even that jerk Tachibana. I have complete faith in you. You belong on that left wing."

I mulled over Ryoji's words. He had a point. It wasn't that I couldn't play. I had pushed myself to my limits, so even though hockey wasn't my favorite, I could hold my own. Maybe not the star player— that title belonged to Ryoji—but I was definitely reliable. And I wouldn't be facing the match alone. With Ryoji and that jerk Tachibana by my side, we formed a formidable trio as the team's forwards.

"We're not going to lose. I'm sure of it," Ryoji reassured me, giving my knee a comforting pat. "If we win, want to celebrate together?"

"Are you trying to bribe me?" I teased.

"No, I promise I'll treat you to something special," Ryoji replied earnestly.

"That's not a promise. It's just your duty as my boyfriend, right?" I teased back, grinning.

As a few spectators passed by, Ryoji and I quickly covered our mouths to stifle our laughter.

"Wait," Ryoji's grin widened. "So I'm officially your boyfriend now?"

"If you'd rather be with Tachibana, you should say so now," I pretended to pout, wanting to gauge Ryoji's reaction. "Or you can be with that girl your family had specially handpicked for you, Tsubaki Jin."

Ryoji narrowed his eyes, and we exchanged serious glances. Five seconds passed in tense silence before Ryoji couldn't contain himself anymore and burst into laughter. I joined in, the weight of the moment lifting. This was how we liked it—light-hearted and carefree. Ryoji's innocence always had a way of tempting me.

"I'll take you to somewhere special," Ryoji announced, pulling out his cell phone and tapping the screen rapidly. "Somewhere warm, where we can soak up the sun."

"Okinawa?" I suggested.

"Nah, not in Japan!" Ryoji exclaimed, shaking his head in mock disgust. "This will be our second date. How about... Mallorca?"

"Ma... what?" I asked, unfamiliar with the name.

"Mallorca," Ryoji repeated, holding his cell phone screen up for me to see. "It's a tourist town in Spain. Look at these pictures, it seems like a fun place."

I took Ryoji's cell phone and admired the beautiful beach photos of Mallorca. "Spain is... in Europe, right?" I remarked, realizing that such a trip might be expensive. "How did you even know about this place?"

"I Googled 'Romantic tourist sites,'" Ryoji confessed with a chuckle. "Exciting, huh?"

"Can we really afford it? We're just high school kids." I asked, suddenly concern about the financial aspect. "I don't even have a passport!"

"I can borrow the money from my parents. They won't give me any more cash until I graduate from college, but it's worth it to spend time with you. And for passports, we can just fill out the forms and apply. So there's no need to worry," Ryoji reassured me, his eyes sparkling as he peeked at the cellphone screen. "Plus, we don't have to splurge on luxury hotels or fancy meals. We just want to soak up the warm weather and enjoy the beautiful beaches. A week would be perfect. What do you say?"

Goodness. It seemed like Ryoji was really serious about taking me to Spain! I was both surprised and flattered by his determination. "What should I tell my father?"

"We'll figure out the details later. But you wanna go, right?" Ryoji pressed, his enthusiasm reminiscent of a kid in kindergarten. He often teased me about my "lack of imagination." If I teased him back, he'd whine, and oddly enough, I found it cute. That was just Ryoji for you—simple and genuine.

"I've never been on a plane before. I've lived in Misawa my whole life," I admitted.

"More reasons to fly somewhere else," Ryoji replied.

"What if I get airsick?"

"Take an anti-motion sickness pill beforehand, bro. Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

"What about language? Can you speak Spanish?" I asked.

"We can manage with a bit of English. Should we start taking some language courses?" Ryoji suggested. "Or maybe we can use Google Translate."

"What if the food doesn't agree with me and I get a stomach ache?" I inquired.

"My stomach's made of iron. I can eat anything," Ryoji boasted.

"And what if we get kidnapped and can't return to Japan?" I joked.

"I know aikido. Plus, it's usually the girls who get kidnapped, not boys—" Ryoji stopped abruptly, the excitement fading from his face. "You're just messing with me, aren't you?"

I giggled. Ryoji playfully tickled me, and I responded in kind, both of us tumbling behind a bench. Before hitting the ground, we were caught by the trunk of a keyaki tree. We quickly covered each other mouth as another group of spectators passed by.

"Ryoji," I whispered, his face so close to mine that our noses almost touched. "Do you think we can walk around holding hands in Spain?"

"I think so. They're more open. We might even be able to kiss," he replied.

"Yikes. You're such a pervert," I teased.

"Why? You're my boyfriend," Ryoji countered, his voice hushed.

"Shh!" I hushed him, stifling a laugh.

We chuckled softly, and I felt a sense of relief wash over me. Shifting closer to Ryoji, I took his hand and placed it on my waist. His warm breath brushed against my forehead as I buried my face in his chest, imagining our next destination: Mallorca in Spain. It was a place where we wouldn't need to hide, where we could hold hands without shame, maybe even share a kiss. Unlike many of our peers who were already dating, we had never kissed or engaged in anything intimate, even though there had been countless opportunities. And Ryoji had never pressured me for "that" either.

"Then I want to go to Mallorca," I said.

"Great!" Ryoji punched the air. "We'll go together, as long as you promise to stop doubting yourself and give it your all in this match. Promise?"

"I promise."

https://youtu.be/2n0_HUjqnUQ

THE CHARM PARK - ad meliora

"青空の下でいつも一緒に..."

Ao sora no shita de, itsumo isshou ni

(Under the blue sky, together forever)