The airport buzzed with a constant hum of activity, a vast, open space filled with the clatter of rolling suitcases and the murmur of distant announcements. The ceiling was high, with a grid of sleek, fluorescent lights.
People moved in a steady stream. Some rushing, others lost in their phones or staring at departure screens. The terminals were wide and polished, with rows of shops offering snacks.
The luggage claim was slightly chaotic. The baggage carousels were full of bags—circulating slowly around in a predictable loop, waiting for their owners to identify them. The atmosphere was a bit tense as travelers impatiently scanned the moving luggage, hoping their bags would appear soon.
"Come on, where is my luggage?" A young teen impatiently blurted out.
His main concern was the contents of his luggage, which were fragile. The automated carousels, in particular, often pushed luggage out roughly, and it wasn't uncommon to see broken bags circulating on the belt.
Before he could complain further, his oddly shaped luggage was in view, ready to crash down into the carousel belt. The luggage was an oddly long and narrow shaped bag. Specifically it was designed to carry his hockey gear. Hockey sticks in particular weren't cheap so he was rather cautious when it came to his luggage.
As the boy was checking on his hockey sticks, he was interrupted by someone gently placing their hand on his shoulder.
"Tetsuro?" The lady asked gingerly.
Tetsuro turned to look at his mother. It had been several years since Tetsuro had last seen her. Her dark brown hair was neatly styled into a bun, and her glistening skin was flawless. His mother's light brown eyes shone brightly, and her smile radiated warmth and kindness. Tetsuro couldn't help but notice how gracefully she had aged over the years.
His parents had separated when he was still a toddler. Tetsuro's father wanted to move back to his home country, Canada. However, his mother wasn't particularly fond of leaving Japan into the unknown. Their growing disagreements finally ended in his father separating from his mother and moving back to Canada.
During his toddler years, Tetsuro remembered that his parents alternated custody each year. One year, he would spend time in Canada with his father, and the next, he would live with his mother in Japan.
Eventually, Tetsuro told his father that he no longer wanted to return to Japan. He had grown tired of constantly making new friends, only for those relationships to end when he switched homes each year. Naturally, he had to assure his mother that the decision was entirely his own and that he wasn't influenced in any way.
The phone call wasn't particularly pleasant. His mother made an effort to sound unaffected. But her voice would falter and crack in her attempts to not sob over the phone.
"Mother…" Tetsuro's voice trailed off. Now that he was a bit older, he understood the amount of agony his mother had gone through. Not seeing your son for years would affect any parent.
"It's good to see you." Tetsuro awkwardly managed.
"You've grown so much," his mother said, examining him thoughtfully.
Tetsuro didn't know how to respond. His mother had never been there to celebrate his accomplishments, whether academic or athletic. A choice that he made when he told her he would remain with his father.
"Well, let's head out. I've prepared some lunch, and if we linger too long, it'll get cold. Do you have everything with you?" Tetsuro's mother broke the silence, sensing the growing awkwardness in their conversation.
Tetsuro nodded in acknowledgment. His father had assured him that his mother would provide new clothes and his school uniform. He had only been sent with the bare essentials.
As they left the airport, Tetsuro was struck by how snowy and windy Hokkaido was. Although he was accustomed to the cold from the harsh winters in Canada, the weather in Hokkaido was much more mild.
"How's your father?" His mother inquired as they entered the car.
"I'm sorry?" The question took him by surprise. He began to fidget with his jacket, hoping to avoid answering.
"Tetsuro, how is your father?" She repeated.
"He's okay, working like always." Tetsuro answered immediately.
His mother started the car and began to drive out of the airport parking lot.
For the first half of the drive to their home, the car remained silent, broken only by the hum of the engine. Tetsuro was somewhat puzzled by his mother's sudden silence after asking about his father.
His father had a typical corporate job that often-required long hours to finish important projects. He was rarely home, and when he was, he was too tired to engage with Tetsuro. The lack of connection was one of the main reasons Tetsuro had taken up hockey—something to fill the void left by his father's absence and the loneliness he felt.
"Your father told me you like hockey and play for a team back in Canada." His mother finally broke the silence.
"He did? Well, yeah, hockey is really popular in Canada. It's a fun sport, and it's also very competitive. I'm not the best at it, but my goal is to play professionally," Tetsuro replied.
Tetsuro wasn't as skilled as his teammates on the youth hockey team. Many of them had parents who were deeply involved in their training, investing heavily in specialized coaches and trainers to give them the best chance to succeed. In contrast, Tetsuro only had access to basic coaching, as the staff prioritized players whose families could afford additional training. As a result, he was behind in his development compared to his peers. While he didn't consider himself a bad player, he knew there was still a lot to learn before he could reach his goal.
"Well, the high school you'll be attending, Kenryoku High, has a hockey team. They used to be really good, but hockey doesn't have as big a following as baseball and football. Most students tend to flock to those clubs. Still, you should join if you're interested," his mother said, concluding the conversation.
Tetsuro glanced at his mother from the corner of his eye, her focus fixed on the road. He hadn't realized that his parents spoke to each other after their separation, but in hindsight, it made sense that they would discuss about him. This made his mother's question more sensible, as they only discussed him and not their personal lives.
Once they arrived at his mother's home, Tetsuro ate the ramen she had prepared for him. She then showed him to his room. It was small but functional, with a desk in the corner, his bed against the wall, and a dresser beside the desk. It was a simple room. He dropped his luggage on the floor and laid down on the bed, unaware of how tired he was.
As he looked at the white ceiling he began to think of his father. His father had started seeing someone, and Tetsuro had become a barrier to their relationship progressing. As a result, he was essentially forced out of his home and sent to Japan to stay with his mother. As he pondered how he would fit in with his estranged mother, he quickly drifted into a deep sleep.