The train screeched to a halt at Tokyo Station.
With a hiss of steam and the shuffle of countless footsteps, Takumi Hayashi stepped down onto the platform.
"Phew… that was a long journey,"
he muttered, stretching his heavy frame.
His arms reached high above his head, and his round belly peeked slightly under his shirt as he yawned.
This was his first time in Tokyo. The moment he looked up, his eyes widened.
"Wow…"
Buildings stretched endlessly into the sky, far taller than anything in Gifu.
Crowds of people hurried past him in every direction, dressed in sharp suits or casual clothes, speaking quickly, never stopping.
Takumi stood there in awe, like a country boy who had stepped into another world.
Slowly, with his heavy build, he waddled along the street, clutching his bag.
From his pocket, he pulled out a slip of paper—the one with his parents' addresses. For a moment, he stared at it. His heart pounded.
But then, he shook his head.
"Not today… I'm too tired. I'll see them soon anyway."
Instead, he pulled out the second slip his grandfather had given him. Written neatly at the top was the name:
Taigawa Masahiro
Takumi's eyes lit up.
"So this is Grandpa's old friend…"
He waved for a taxi, awkwardly raising his arm as he had seen others do.
The driver, a middle-aged man with sharp eyes, nodded and let him in.
"To this address, please!" Takumi said, handing him the slip.
After weaving through the endless city roads, the car finally stopped in front of a large traditional-style Japanese house, its wooden gates and tiled roof standing proudly amidst the concrete jungle.
"Uwaaah… this place is huge!" Takumi whispered, his mouth hanging open.
He pressed the doorbell.
Moments later, the door slid open, and a kind-looking woman appeared.
She wore a pale apron over her clothes, her hair neatly tied back, her expression warm but reserved.
Takumi quickly bowed deeply, just as he had been taught in the countryside.
"Hajimemashite! My name is Hayashi Takumi. I'm the grandson of Hayashi Genzo."
The woman blinked in surprise for a moment, then her expression softened into a gentle smile.
"Ah… Genzo-san's grandson. Welcome. Please wait here."
She turned and called inside.
"Otōsan! We have a guest."
Footsteps echoed from within the house. Soon, an elderly man appeared at the entrance.
His back was slightly bent, but he stood with quiet dignity. His hair was silver, neatly combed back, and his face carried deep wrinkles carved by years of life.
He wore a traditional dark kimono, and though his eyes were tired, there was still sharpness in them—the kind of sharpness that once belonged to a man of strength.
This was Taigawa Masahiro.
Nice! You're shaping the family-like warmth and a touch of comedy in Takumi's Tokyo arrival 👏. Let's smooth this scene into a novel-like format with descriptions of Chris's family.
"Ohoo! So you're that idiot Genzo's grandson, eh?"
The old man's voice boomed like thunder, his wrinkled face breaking into a wide grin.
"You even look like him! Big build, big belly! Hah!"
Takumi scratched his cheek awkwardly, his face flushing red. He wasn't used to being teased so directly.
"Come inside, boy! Don't just stand there!"
He stepped through the gate, removing his shoes at the entrance as he had been taught, then followed the woman inside.
After freshening up in the guest room, Takumi descended the stairs. The smell of cooking drifted through the air, making his stomach grumble.
In the dining area, he froze for a moment.
Sitting at the table was a tall man with light brown hair, sharp features, and piercing blue eyes.
His frame was broad, and though age had softened him slightly, he carried himself with the confidence of an athlete. His skin tone and foreign looks stood out immediately in the Japanese home.
This was Christopher Taigawa. Half-Japanese, half-European, he had the presence of someone who had seen both worlds.
Beside him, the kind woman from earlier—Taigawa Keiko, His wife,smiled warmly. She wore a simple apron, her hair tied neatly, and her gentle eyes radiated kindness.
"Takumi-kun, come, sit. It must have been a long journey. Lunch is ready," she said in a soft, welcoming voice.
Takumi bowed deeply, his country manners showing clearly.
"Hajimemashite! My name is Hayashi Takumi. I'm the grandson of Hayashi Genzo."
He turned to the foreign-looking man, his heart pounding nervously. This was his first time speaking to someone who didn't look Japanese.
"Nice to meet you, sir. I… I'm honored to be here."
Christopher's lips curled into a faint smile as he extended a firm hand.
"So you're Genzo's grandson, huh? I've heard stories. Sit down, eat. You'll need strength if you want to survive Tokyo baseball."
Takumi's eyes widened as he slowly sat at the table.
For the first time in his life, he felt he had stepped into a world that was completely foreign—new faces, new voices, and a new city waiting for him beyond these walls.