Movement / 動き出す

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Tonight the world looks familiar but it does not feel the same.

The streets are where I left them. The buildings still hold their shape. The same lamps buzz above the cracks on the footpath I know by heart. But something shifted and now everything has changed. 

I wobble in the middle of it.

There is a part of me that wants to turn back. Back to what I knew. Back to the rooms I memorised so well I could move through them in the dark. Back to the old comforts even if they were small, even if they asked me to shrink beside them.

But when I really look behind me, the path begins to distort.

What exactly am I longing for?

Was it safety or simply familiarity wearing the mask of safety?

I can almost see it now for what it was: a song drifting from another street, beautiful and enchanting enough to follow. But that song was not for me. 

Looking ahead asks something harder of me.

The future does not arrive with guarantees. It does not kneel beside me and explain itself. Even now, with a clearer gaze than I have ever had, I cannot fully tell what is promise and what is projection. Some horizons glow beautifully because they are real. Others glow only because they borrow reflected light from around them, nothing of their own. 

So I stand in the tension of that.

I want guidance. I want a voice from somewhere wiser than me to call out across the platform and tell me which train to board, which road to walk, which love to choose, which self to become.

But the station glass offers only my reflection.

And there I am.

Not finished.

Not certain.

Not rescued.

But here.

I laugh at the absurdity of it. I smile at the tenderness of it. I could cry for all that has fallen away and all that has not yet arrived.

Then somewhere in the distance, something opens.

Not a miracle.

Not a map.

Just a way forward.

No guarantees. 

I take a breath out.

And with whatever grace I can gather, I waltz into the unknown.

Briefly, everything softens

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There are moments lately where things shift.

Nothing dramatic. No announcement.

Just a small softening as if the world has loosened its grip for a minute.

You don’t notice it at first.

But by the time you do, you’re already inside it.

Music

We walk out from book club into the night. One of the last warm evenings in early autumn.

“It feels like a summer evening,” you say.

But it’s not. There’s something thinner in the air. Something already fading. 

The city is busy for a Tuesday night. As we head towards the station, music drifts toward us. Faint at first, then clearer.

I have my arm around yours while you tap your cane along the bluestone footpath. We’re not in any rush.

You stop.

“Where’s that music coming from?”

I look ahead. A man with a keyboard is set up in front of the State Library steps.

“He’s just over in front of the State Library. About a hundred metres from where we are standing.”

You tilt your head slightly, placing it.

“Do you think we could listen for a bit?”

“Of course.”

We make our way over slowly. There are only a couple of people standing around listening to him. 

We stop.

Your hands rest over the top of your cane, your chin resting on your hands. Still. Listening.

The music carries through the air, soft, steady, like it’s holding everything together for a moment.

I watch the city move around us. People passing, night lights sparkling through the trees, everything shifting.

And then I look back at you.

You’re completely still in the middle of it. Listening. Seeing it in a way that I can’t see. 

And it hits me all at once. How much is here right now, and how quickly it passes. How we’re both in it, but not in the same way. How this won’t last.

My chest tightens. My eyes fill before I can stop it.

I don’t say anything. I just stand there beside you.

After a while, you lift your head.

“Okay, let’s go.”

Just like that.

We turn, and the music fades behind us.

I start describing things passing us by as we walk. We talk about life. We catch the train.

Happy 

It’s that point in the night where everything has softened.

The room is thick with heat. Bodies pressed together, music running through the floor. We lean in close, mouths near ears, saying things we wouldn’t say anywhere else.

We haven’t spoken properly in a while.

Our foreheads touch before we pull into each other.

“How have you been?” he asks.

“Yeah, good. How about you?”

A pause.

“Are you happy?”

I almost answer straight away.

Then I stop.

The room keeps moving around us. There’s more I could say, but none of it belongs here.

“Yeah,” I say.

A beat.

“I am.”

He nods, like that’s enough.

“Good.”

“What about you?”

“I was in a dark place,” he says. “But I’m getting better now.”

I pull him in a little tighter.

“I’m glad. You know I’m always here for you.”

“Thank you.”

We hold it for a second longer than we need to, then let go.

Just like that, it’s done.

He disappears back into the crowd. The music closes in again.

But something has settled.

I stand there for a moment, then smile to myself, lighter than I’ve felt in a long time.

For Internal Use

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Induction

CAR PARKING ALLOCATION

Vendor Induction Summary
(For Internal Use)

Allocated Space: B4–17
Building: [Redacted] Apartments
Vendor: [Account on File]

This induction covers access, usage, and general expectations relating to the above-noted parking space.

No physical orientation is required (although recommended)

Completion of this induction indicates acknowledgment of the following:

  • The allocated space is subject to periodic review.
  • Access to the space may be required outside standard business hours.
  • Invoices relating to this space are to be prioritised and processed in full.
  • Any supplementary requests associated with these invoices are to be actioned as provided.
  • Requests may vary month to month and should be treated as routine.

Please note:

  • This space is not to be reassigned or discussed externally.
  • Any issues or queries are to be directed to the nominated contact only.
  • Do not escalate unless advised.

Building access is monitored.

By proceeding, you confirm you have read and understood the above.

Status: Completed (recommended physical orientation not undertaken)
Date: [Auto-generated]
Confirmed by: System

I looked back at the screen, the automated email still open, the induction summary attached beneath the confirmation. I pinched the skin at the back of my neck while I reread the status line. Perhaps the physical orientation could be done later.

It had been a quiet morning. Two patients had come and gone without issue, and I had finished my training modules by eleven thirty.

Michael came out of his suite and smiled at me.

“How are you settling in?”

“It’s great,” I said. “The systems work well. I just finished the car parking induction module.”

Michael blinked, then kept smiling.

“Tuesday,” he said. “Nearly hump day. Some people say Monday’s the worst, but I think Tuesday is.”

I smiled back before he disappeared into his suite.

Invoice for March Service Period

Invoice

Invoice Number: 000481
Date Issued: 3 April
Account: [On File]
Service Period: March
Allocated Space: B4–17

Description
Monthly parking allocation
Standard access and usage

Amount Due: $220.00
GST: Included

Payment Terms: 14 days
Preferred Method: Direct deposit

Please ensure payment is processed within the above timeframe.

Thank you for your continued cooperation.

I processed the invoice before lunch. It came through overnight and matched the previous month’s amount. I checked the space number against the induction summary and entered it into the system. There were no attachments and no additional notes.

Sarah asked if I’d seen her keep cup anywhere. It was on the windowsill behind the printer. She laughed when she found it and said she’d been looking everywhere. I said I was thinking of getting one too. She said it made the coffee taste better.

After lunch I filed the invoice under vendors and marked it complete.

Please Confirm

Someone reheated fish and apologised to the room before anyone had a chance to comment. Sarah asked if anyone had tried the new place near the station. Michael said he hadn’t been, but that Jane, the clinic owner and head dentist, had said it was fine but expensive. Someone else said everything was expensive now. I was looking down at my own food in a glass Tupperware container and hadn’t noticed who said it. No one disagreed.

I ate at my desk with the window open and scrolled through emails while I finished the last of my meal. This batch would likely last me until Friday. A calendar reminder popped up for a staff birthday the following week. I clicked maybe.

When I came back from refilling my water bottle, another invoice had arrived.

It was from the same account.

The format was identical to the previous one, down to the spacing and the reference number sequence. The amount was the same. The dates lined up. There was an additional line beneath the description, indented slightly, as if it had been added after the template was generated.

Note: Please confirm receipt. A response is appreciated.

It wasn’t addressed to anyone in particular. There was no salutation. I checked the metadata. The file had been created less than a minute before it was sent. I processed it anyway and replied with a brief confirmation.

The original sender has requested delivery and read receipts for this message.

The system marked it as sent, then promptly as delivered.

At five thirty I shut down my computer and said goodbye to whoever was still around. Michael waved from his doorway and asked if it was still raining. I said it hadn’t started yet. He said it would probably hold off then.

I could see a shadow moving slightly in Jane’s suite. We hadn’t met yet. Whenever I arrived, Jane was already working, and each time I left, she was still there. Sarah had assured me Jane would love to sit down with me when she had the chance.

The walk to the station took less than three minutes. The car park was already half empty. I unlocked my car and sat for a moment before starting the engine, checking my phone, deleting a notification from the clinic app.

The invoice confirmation had been read.

Ribbon Survey

Invoice

Invoice Number: 000493
Date Issued: 1 May
Account: [On File]
Service Period: April
Allocated Space: B4–17

Description
Monthly parking allocation
Standard access and usage

Amount Due: $220.00
GST: Included

Attached: Customer Feedback Survey

The invoice came through mid-afternoon, flagged as routine. I opened it briefly, checked the amount, and saved it to process before end of day. The survey was a single page PDF, attached beneath the invoice.

Thank you for continuing to be one of our valued customers. As part of our ongoing efforts to improve the customer experience, we are seeking feedback on recent changes to our invoices. The question below is intended to help guide improvements to our invoice presentation and customer relations. Your privacy is important to us and all responses are anonymous.

It asked one question.

Please indicate your preferred ribbon colour for future invoices.
☐ Blue
☐ Black
☐ No preference

There was space beneath for additional comments. I closed the file without filling it in. I told myself I would come back to it once the phones were quieter.

The afternoon passed quickly. One patient arrived early and another was late. Michael needed help rescheduling an appointment for the following week. Sarah asked if I could print something for her. At four forty-five I processed the invoice and marked it paid. The system accepted it without prompting me for the attachment.

At five o’clock the lights above reception dimmed automatically. I finished what I was doing and shut down my computer.

I expected to hear someone moving, a door closing, a voice from one of the suites. There was nothing. Michael’s door was open and dark. Sarah’s chair was pushed in. Jane’s suite, at the end of the hall, was unlit.

I stood for a moment before collecting my bag.

On the way out I glanced back at the reception desk, the printer, the stack of blank forms in the tray. Everything was in its place. I turned off the last light and locked the door behind me.

I remembered the survey while I was already halfway down the stairs up to my apartment. I decided I would respond to it in the morning.

Something Missed

The next morning Michael was already in his suite when I arrived. His door was open and the lights were on. I logged in, cleared a handful of emails, and started the phones.

He came out a little after nine with a folder tucked under his arm.

“Morning,” he said. “Just checking in. Did you manage to get everything done yesterday?”

I paused. “Yes,” I said. “I think so.”

Michael nodded, as if he’d expected that answer. “Good. There was just a notification that something might still be outstanding. Probably nothing. I just wanted to make sure. But you are on top of it. You’ve got this!”

I told Michael I would double check there weren’t any misses on my end. He said that sounded right. He smiled, thanked me, and went back into his suite.

I sat for a moment before opening the vendor folder.

The survey was still there, unopened. I filled it in quickly, ticking No preference and leaving the comments section blank. I attached it to a short reply and sent it through.

A response came back less than a minute later.

Thank you for feedback.
We appreciate you taking the time to support our ongoing improvements.
Your response has been recorded.

The system marked it as delivered. Nothing else followed.

I reread the first sentence. It was a little off, but still understandable.

The rest of the day passed without issue. Michael asked if I’d had a good weekend, even though it was only Wednesday. Sarah said she was thinking of taking Friday off. Someone mentioned the weather again. The phones stayed manageable. No further invoices came through.

At five o’clock the lights dimmed and everyone left at roughly the same time. Jane’s suite was lit when I walked past, her door closed. I didn’t stop.

By the time I got home, I had forgotten about the survey entirely.

Incident

I noticed it before I reached the driver’s door.

The scratch ran the length of the panel, shallow in places and deeper in others, as if the key had slipped. The paint had curled slightly at the edges. I stood on the footpath for a moment and looked up and down the street. The older apartment block opposite was still dark. Someone’s alarm was going off further down, then stopped.

I took a photo on my phone and unlocked the car. I drove to work with the radio off.

At lunch Sarah asked how my morning had been. I told her my car had been keyed overnight. She frowned and said that was awful. She asked where I parked. I said on the street, outside my building. She said I should report it.

Michael nodded. “There’s been a lot of that lately,” he said. “Rising crime rates. It’s all over the news.” He said you couldn’t be too careful anymore. Even the station car park wasn’t what it used to be. He’d read something about it just last week. We have to stay vigilant.

Someone said their neighbour’s car had been broken into. Someone else said their bike had been stolen. Sarah leaned in and looked at me directly.

“R U OK?” she asked, enunciating each word clearly.

I said yes.

I ate the rest of my lunch without tasting it. The fish smell lingered in the room longer than usual.

The afternoon passed normally. Patients came and went. The phones rang. No new invoices came through. At five o’clock the lights dimmed and we all left together.

When I got home I looked at the scratch again. It was worse in the daylight. I filed a report online and attached the photo. The confirmation email came through immediately.

Thank you for your submission.
Your report has been received.

I closed it without reading further.

Update

Invoice

Invoice Number: 000506
Date Issued: 1 August
Account: [On File]
Service Period: July
Allocated Space: B4–17

Description
Monthly parking allocation
Standard access and usage

Amount Due: $220.00
GST: Included

Thank you to our valued customers for your recent feedback.
We appreciate your continued engagement and support.

I noticed the ribbon before I noticed anything else.

It was black.

The rest of the invoice was unchanged. The amount was the same. The dates lined up. The language was familiar. I scrolled through it once, then again, looking for an attachment or a note explaining the change. There wasn’t one.

I processed the invoice and marked it complete.

Later, when I printed a copy for the records, the ribbon showed clearly against the white paper. I stacked it with the others and slid it into the drawer.

No further communication followed.

By the end of the day, the ribbon colour felt like a detail I’d imagined.

I didn’t mention it to anyone.

Procedural

Invoice

Invoice Number: 000518
Date Issued: 14 September
Account: [On File]
Service Period: August
Allocated Space: B4–17

Description
Monthly parking allocation
Standard access and usage

Amount Due: $220.00
GST: Included

Note:
Due to recent incidents and ongoing review, we are updating our records.
Please attend the allocated space to verify access and confirm condition.
Confirmation is required to maintain uninterrupted service.

I read the note twice before opening the vendor folder. There was nothing else attached. No timeframe was specified.

I asked Sarah if she’d seen it.

She frowned and said that didn’t seem right. She said she’d talk to Michael.

Michael listened, nodded, and said it sounded like a vendor requirement. He said these things tended to happen after incidents. He said it was probably just a box-ticking exercise. Jane wouldn’t need to be involved. She didn’t need to be across this kind of detail.

Sarah came back later and said she’d tried, but Michael had determined that procedure would need to be followed. There wasn’t really anything more she could do. If it was a vendor condition, it would need to be completed.

“Just get it done and it’ll go away,” she said.

I waited until the phones were quiet and the last patient had left. At five forty-five I shut down my computer and took the lift down. I had not been down to the basement before.

The basement was cooler than the rest of the building. The lights came on in sections as I walked. B4–17 was at the far end, close to the wall.

The space was empty.

I stood there for a moment, then took a photo on my phone. I checked the number against the sign. I confirmed access. There was nothing to note.

I couldn’t see anyone else in the basement. Periodic red lights blinked from the security cameras mounted along the ceiling, angled towards me.

Coming out into the lobby, I walked past Building Management, who greeted me politely as I left the building.

When I got home, I attached the photo to a brief email and sent it through.

A reply came back shortly after.

Thank you for your cooperation.
Verification complete.

I deleted the photo from my phone.

After hours

Invoice

Invoice Number: 000531
Date Issued: 1 October
Account: [On File]
Service Period: September
Allocated Space: B4–17

Description
Monthly parking allocation
Standard access and usage

Amount Due: $220.00
GST: Included

Note:
To support updated access controls and monitoring, verification is to be completed after 6:30 pm on billing days.
This ensures alignment with building operations and safety protocols.
Thank you for your cooperation.

I read the note once, then again more slowly.

I asked Sarah if she’d seen the update. She said she hadn’t. She said after six thirty sounded late. She said she’d ask Michael.

Michael said it made sense. He said the building ran differently after hours. He said it was probably safer that way. Jane wouldn’t need to be involved.

Sarah came back and said she was sorry. It was just how the vendor wanted it done. At least it was only once a month.

I didn’t respond straight away.

That afternoon I watched the clock more than usual. At four fifty the phones went quiet. The last patient left early. Michael packed up and said goodnight.

“Ah, tonight is your late night,” he said. “Well at least the days are getting longer so it’s not too dark out!”

Sarah waved and said she hoped I didn’t have to stay later than I needed to.

“It’s fine,” I said. “I just have one thing to do for the vendor.”

At six thirty-five I shut down my computer and took the lift down.

The basement was darker than before. Fewer lights came on as I walked. The space was empty again. I stood where I had stood last time and waited for my eyes to adjust. I took the photo and checked the number.

There was nothing to note.

I sent the confirmation from my phone as I walked through the foyer and said goodnight to the building manager, who tipped his head slightly, looking at me as I passed him.

The reply came through before I reached the street.

Thank you for your cooperation.
Verification complete.

I realised, walking home, that no one had told me when this requirement would end.

Optics

Invoice

Invoice Number: 000612
Date Issued: 1 November
Account: [On File]
Service Period: October
Allocated Space: B4–17

Description
Monthly parking allocation
Standard access and usage

Amount Due: $220.00
GST: Included

Thank you to our valued customers for your ongoing commitment throughout the year.
We appreciate your cooperation and continued engagement.

Additional Note:

As part of our end-of-year activities, we will be hosting a customer appreciation gathering. Attendance is requested to support continued partnership and service alignment.

Food, drink and fun end-of-year activities are provided!

NB: There is a special raffle. For every month you have paid an invoice, you receive an entry into the special raffle, with the grand prize being a month of credit!

Please confirm your attendance, along with any dietary requirements (specify if food allergy or preference).

I read the note at my desk while the phones rang.

There was no date listed yet, just the request to confirm. The language was familiar. Ongoing commitment. Continued engagement. Partnership.

I forwarded the invoice to Sarah and asked if she’d seen it.

She came over and read it on my screen. She said it was odd. She said she didn’t realise vendors did end-of-year things like that. She said she’d talk to Michael.

Michael said it sounded like a relationship exercise. He said vendors liked to put faces to names. He said it reflected well when the clinic showed engagement beyond the transactional.

He smiled and said I’d done really well this year. He said everyone had noticed how smoothly things had been running. He said my review was coming up and it was always good to be visible around this time of year.

He didn’t say I had to go.

He didn’t say what would happen if I didn’t.

Sarah came back later and said she didn’t think it was something Jane would get involved in. It wasn’t really her area. Sarah said it might look a bit strange if we didn’t acknowledge the invitation at all.

“It’s probably just drinks,” she said. “And it’s nice they’re making the effort.”

I left the invoice open for most of the afternoon.

At four fifty-five I clicked Confirm Attendance.

A response came through almost immediately.

Thank you for confirming your attendance.
Further details will be provided closer to the date.

That evening, as I shut down the computer, I noticed Jane’s suite was dark.

Invite

Subject: Customer Appreciation Gathering – Event Details

Thank you for confirming an attendance.
Please find the details for our upcoming customer appreciation gathering below.

Date: Friday, 15 December
Time: From 7:00 pm
Location: Apartment 14B
[Redacted] Apartments

Food, drinks, and end-of-year activities will be provided.

To support building safety and access requirements, guests are requested to use their allocated parking space upon arrival.

Please park in B4–17.
The allocated parking space is

Confirmation of arrival will be monitored as part of attendance for the evening. This helps ensure smooth access and a safe experience for all guests.

If you have nominated any dietary requirements or have accessibility needs, please advise at your earliest conveniences.

We appreciate your continued commitment and look forward to celebrating the end of the year with you.

—
This message was sent automatically. Please do nott reply.

End of Year Party

The last day before the break was quieter than usual. The phones rang less often and no new appointments were booked. Someone had brought in mince pies and left them in the staff room with a handwritten note. Michael asked what everyone’s plans were over the holidays. Sarah said she was heading down the coast if the weather held. Someone else mentioned family. I said I didn’t have anything planned.

Michael thanked me again for agreeing to attend the gathering. He said it was important. He said it reflected well on the clinic to be represented. Sarah nodded and said it was really appreciated. She said Jane had mentioned how reliable I’d been this year. She said Jane was impressed.

Jane didn’t come out of her suite.

Just before lunch Michael handed me the garage remote. He reminded me to bring it back in the new year and not to use this as an excuse to get free secure car parking over the break before letting out a laugh as if he were joking. I smiled at Michael as I put the remote in my bag.

We locked up early. Sarah hugged me and said to enjoy myself. Michael waved and said he’d see me next year.

I walked to the station, then drove back to the building, moving my car into the basement as instructed. The gate opened smoothly when I pressed the button. I parked in B4–17 and sat for a moment before turning the engine off. Even though I had never parked in this spot before, the space felt familiar now, as if I’d been standing in it for a long time.

I took the lift up. It stopped twice on the way but no one got in. The lift smelled faintly of cleaning product. Someone had decorated it with tinsel that was already sagging at the corners.

Apartment 14B was at the end of the hallway. Music played softly inside. I knocked and waited.

The man who opened the door smiled as if he’d been expecting me. He stepped aside to let me in. Nothing stood out about him. He was completely non-descript. The apartment was decorated carefully. Tinsel along the shelves. Candles already lit. Food laid out on the bench. The smell of something warm and sweet hung in the air.

He apologised for being in the kitchen and went back to the oven. He said he’d just take something out before it overcooked. He asked if I had found the car space easily enough. I said yes. He said the basement was much safer than the street for parking.

“Please, help yourself to food. There’s plenty,” he called from the kitchen.

I stood near the counter and looked around. On the edge of a drawer beside me, something blue was caught. A lanyard. I recognised it immediately. The same one we wore at the clinic, printed with the logo, the plastic sleeve still attached.

I instinctively thought it was mine but noticed mine was still around my neck. I started to pinch my skin.

“Can I get you a drink? I’m not sure what the policy is for the clinic, so we have non-alcoholic options too,” he called from somewhere behind me as he shuffled around.

I pinched the skin a little harder.

“Are you expecting many people this evening?”

There was silence. I turned around and saw him looking at me, head tilted slightly, a faintly amused smile on his face.

He walked slowly toward me.

“No,” he said. “I only have one car space.”

I looked towards the door.

Epilogue

Position Available: Administrative Support Officer
Part-time | Immediate Start

A small, well-established dental clinic is seeking a reliable and organised administrative support officer.

Key responsibilities include:

  • Appointment scheduling
  • Invoice processing
  • Vendor coordination
  • General reception duties

The successful applicant will be:

  • Detail-oriented
  • Comfortable following established processes
  • Able to manage competing priorities independently

No handover documentation available.

Applications close Friday.

Between here and home

Urban SolitudeLeave a comment

When I arrived, the blossoms were still dancing in the air.

The sky was wide and clear, that soft spring blue that always feels full of possibility. The sun warmed my skin.

I had landed right in the middle of Tokyo’s short, beautiful season, where everything feels suspended for a moment.

One night soon after I arrived, I found myself at the smoke-filled yakitori store I’ve come to nearly every day since.

In just two weeks, I had slipped in like a regular.

The staff call out my name and greet me with a smile; the regulars give me a few winks, like I’ve always been here.

Some nights, I talked with a tired salaryman, half-laughing, half-serious, as he vented about Trump and the looming rice shortages.

Other nights, it was two pro golfers, talking about their summer house in California and asking about Australia like it was some faraway rumour.

There was the married couple too, my close friends who, between rounds of beer and grilled beef heart and chicken skin, theorised what the pyramids were really used for, our feverish conversation making the theories wilder the later it got.

Small, passing conversations but somehow they stuck.

Tonight, the rain is pouring down hard.

It drums against the roof and turns the streets into a surrealist mirror.

Tomorrow, I go back home back to my usual spots and I’ll disappear from here, just like I did before I came.

Life works like that sometimes: you slip into a place, make it yours for a little while, and then move on.

I’m reflecting tonight.

My relationship with Tokyo has always been complicated.

I act like a local, but I’m not.

I fit in, but I know I don’t belong.

Coming back here calms me in a way no other place can.

One day, I know I’ll live here again, I just don’t know when, or how.

I’ll wait and see.

Like the city itself, this trip has been layered, shifting slightly depending on where I stand and how I look at it.

And, like always, it ends just as it gets to the good part.

There was a moment, too, when my two worlds collided.

Friends from Melbourne were here at the same time, and for a few days we explored the city together, wandering through some streets I had never thought I would be sharing and talking about.

It felt strange, seeing Tokyo through their eyes while carrying my own version of it inside me.

For a while, it was as if the two parts of my life, the one I had built back home and the one I slip into here were crashing together, and as weird as it was, fuck, it felt good.

There were so many different parts to this trip.

It’s been a layered and slow burn.

It reminds me of being a kid,just when the night got fun, just when we didn’t want it to end, the parents would call us home.

I guess that feeling never really leaves.

It’s when I let go of expectations, when I stop trying to shape the moment, that the best things seem to happen.

And it’s always then that life steps in and says: Time’s up. Let’s move on.

“I don’t want to go home,” I told my friend yesterday.

But he reminded me that if this was my everyday, I wouldn’t feel the same way about it.

He’s right, I know he is, even if I don’t want to hear it.

My last day has been the most eventful.

It always hits me the hardest.

Why did I meet you on the last day?

Would it have felt different if we had more time?

Maybe it’s because it was short that it meant so much.

I might never even see you again, even though we say we will.

Whatever happens, that’s fine.

Earlier today, I sat by the lake in Inokashira Park.

The air was warm and heavy, the sky bruising with rain, the little paddle boats drifting by.

I sat there talking with you, who, like me, can see ghosts, comparing notes about what we’d glimpsed in the corners of our lives.

It felt strange, and fitting, like a conversation I was meant to have just once and then carry quietly with me.

I can’t imagine falling back into my routine, the same old streets, the same habits, but I know when I do, I’ll still love them, because I always have.

When I travel, I shake things up.

I break my routines.

I live differently for a while.

But I always bring little pieces of it back with me, the new ways of seeing, the small changes that stay.

Maybe that’s enough.

Maybe that’s what it’s all for.

The rain is still falling. My feet are soaked, I’m buzzed from the drinks and my fingers stink of tobacco but I don’t care. 

It’s time.

I’m ready to go home.

Waxing Gibbous Again, Purple-Blue Hydrangeas, and an Uninvited Guest

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It happened again tonight. A month to the day since I last wrote, though it feels much longer. When I looked up at the moon, hanging in its faint, yellowed glow, I knew it was the same phase as last time. A waxing gibbous, half-grown and half-empty.

A month. Is that all it’s been? Time feels like a thread I dropped somewhere and never bothered to retrieve.

Inside my apartment, the air is still and thick, like a held breath. I don’t turn on the lights. A strange glow spills in from the balcony, though. I see it before I understand it. The balcony light is on. It shouldn’t be. And yet, somehow, I know why.

I step toward the light and feel his presence before I see him. He’s there, waiting, leaning casually against the rail, as if he belongs there. But he doesn’t.

“Sorry, but you aren’t welcome,” I say.

I can’t see his face clearly, but I recognize him. Not the man he became, but the younger version, as he looked in those old family photos—sharp, brash, eternal. This is the version he’s chosen to wear. Or maybe it’s the one I’ve summoned.

“Why can’t I come in?” His voice is soft, almost kind, and that throws me.

“You know why.”

“I know,” he says, like a sigh let loose from his chest.

“Don’t bother with the others. Mum and Dad aren’t home yet, so—”
“I know.” He cuts me off, his voice harder this time.

“It wasn’t easy, you know?” He looks away as he says it, like the words are meant for the empty night rather than me.

“Yeah, but you chose to be that way. To everyone.”

He doesn’t answer, not right away. There’s an ache in the silence, like the air between us is too thin to hold what we mean. Then, just as I blink, he vanishes, as if he was never there.

The stillness that remains is heavier than his presence. I open the balcony door and step outside. The night is cool and damp, smelling faintly of wet earth and green leaves. To my left, the hydrangeas catch my eye, their petals purple and blue, glowing faintly in the light. They don’t move, but somehow I feel them noticing me. Watching me, maybe.

I smile at them, something unspoken passing between us, and go back inside.

Life has been strange lately, like a reel of film that’s jumped tracks. Everything I know is unraveling. The past, the future—it’s all just threads slipping through my fingers. I’m standing in that hazy, in-between space, where nothing is certain and everything feels possible.

I get glimpses of the past sometimes. Shadows, voices, half-hearted invitations to return to the old patterns, the old way of being. But I don’t accept them. I’ve turned my back on all that, though I can’t quite see where I’m headed yet.

When I drew The Tower from the deck, my friends were alarmed. But me? I was relieved. The Tower meant destruction, upheaval, collapse. I craved it. Not the ruin, but the space it leaves behind—the silence after the storm. The chance to start again.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. Somewhere outside, the hydrangeas are still waiting. The moon is still growing. And me? I’m still here.

Jasmine Flowers, Waxing Gibbous, and a Spring Evening

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Everything still shimmers slightly. The grapevine on the brick wall I stop to admire quivers under my gaze. I know that it does this only because I looked.

I could walk endlessly tonight. The weather is perfect for it. It’s the perfect time for me to swim in my impressions of things so far, breathing in the scent of jasmine dancing delicately in the air.

Some particular thoughts rise up, coming in close.

“You don’t write as much as you used to.”

“True.”

“You would always default to seeing the worst.”

“True.”

“It’s funny how things don’t bug you like they used to.”

“It is.”

“What do you think is happening?”

“Change.”

“Into what?”

“I don’t know. That’s what excites me.”

“You’re not scared?”

“No. I was scared when I thought I was stuck. I felt like I wasn’t living anymore.”

The thoughts evaporate almost as quickly as they appear.

Continuing my walk home towards the tram stop, I see three people having a picnic on the median strip under the moonlight. From where I stand, they look so cosy and intimate on the blanket covered with snacks and drinks. I will never know if the cosy intimacy I perceive is their reality or whether I am just projecting what I want them to be experiencing and feeling. It’s probably the latter, but there is the slightest chance that I have guessed correctly.

Leaving the sleepy glow of the quiet street I just walked down, I glide onto the main road and over to the tram stop, where I see the tram coasting towards me. The tram stops in front of me, and for the briefest moment, I imagine it to be a mechanical caterpillar. I get inside so I can finally get back home.

The scent of the jasmine is long gone, and I look out the window to see the moon. My body finally starts to feel tired.

Paths

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It’s a little before 9:00 PM, and I’m exhausted. It’s been an office day, and I caught up with a guy from New York visiting Melbourne. We met in Bangkok around New Year.

Summer is ending, but the nights are still warm. The windows on the tram are open, and the breeze just touches my face as we coast down the quiet road.

Not far from my stop, and the tram is less packed now, making it easier to see who is on. Fewer faces, less overwhelmed, and more calm.

I look at the end of the carriage and see a familiar face. For a moment, it doesn’t register. It’s my ex. He’s staring right back at me.

It’s been a little over two years since we broke up, and in that time, I have not seen him once. I used to wish I would bump into him. Not that I wanted to get back together, but part of me just wanted to make sure he still existed—no, part of me wanted to make sure he existed in the first place.

Over time, I forgot about wanting to bump into him. I forgot about some of the things I never thought I would forget about.

As our eyes locked, I wondered if I wanted to say hi to him, ask him how he’s been, if he is happy. But as instantly as these questions came into my mind, the answer was no. I didn’t want to say hi, ask him how he’s been, or if he is happy.

We must have stared for at least a minute before I realized it was my stop and quickly got off the tram.

Walking through the quiet street towards my apartment, I smiled to myself as I started to realize.

Dark Train / Light Train

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It’s 6:58, and a train is approaching slowly. It won’t stop at my station or any others. There is no announcement, but it is coming my way. There are no lights on; there probably isn’t even a driver. It just keeps going until it reaches something that it can’t push out of the way. There really isn’t much that can stop it.

As the train passes me, I am forced to see every part of it, hear every screech and thud. I watch it slowly disappear into the darkness and out of my view completely.

I feel a sense of hopelessness wash over me. There is no one else at the station, so I cry a bit. I think about the phone call I received today from the sexual crimes detective assigned to my case. It was not the news I wanted to hear, but deep down, it is the news I knew I would receive. I cry some more.

My mind wanders, and I think about how sweaty I got at the gym before. I couldn’t figure out why. I never usually get that sweaty.

Now I hear the announcement, and my train is coming. It’s approaching, and it’s full of light. I wipe my eyes and get ready to board.

Messages I never sent, thoughts I didn’t share

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I had a dream about you last night. In the dream, I was walking down the street nearby my place and I noticed you on the roof of one of the shops, you were beaming down at me. I called out to you but you said nothing and just kept smiling. You then jumped to the next roof and danced like a ballerina. I was scared you might fall but you didn’t.

Anyway, I hope you’re doing okay x

The other day when we were dancing, I thought you said something like, “I don’t know what happened to us but I want to fix it.” All I could manage to say back was, “Okay.” I had so much more I wanted to say but I couldn’t.

You looked really sad about something last night. I know you don’t want to talk about it-

Everything we do is intentional whether we admit to it or not.

Sometimes I wish I could be part of the group photos.

2024 has been my come down from 2023.

Nothing annoys me more than people telling me how busy they think I am.

My favourite part of the morning is when I’ve just finished the gym and I’m walking to go get my coffee. Everything is so quiet, I love the smell of the air and everything is so clear.

I think about the fact that whenever I go out, I see so many faces I know and love. I also know that this won’t be forever because everything changes. Everything is always changing. That’s what makes life so special. The boring bits like this are the best part.

I miss the way you used to be. I know I’m not meant to say it.

But I know that you are more you now than you were before so it’s a good thing. I don’t know what I’m even trying to say. Actually, I think this is more about me than it is you. I’m not going to send this.

Chapter 9 – Night

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John awoke and found the room darker than it was before. He had no idea what time it was. The warmth of the futon was begging him not to leave but he stumbled up into the cold and his body shivered in shock from the sudden temperature change.
Very slightly, John opened his door and noticed a light coming from one of the rooms down the hallway, the faint sound of a TV only barely reached his ears.   
John put some clothes on before heading over to the room and knocking twice on the slightly ajar door.
“John-san?”
John slid the door open and saw a short, slim woman with a straight-cut fringe in a bob standing and smiling at him, she had a can of beer in her hand.
John bowed deeply, “I’m John, nice to meet you!”
The woman bowed and smiled without showing her teeth, “John-san! Aren’t you just so handsome! I’m Tsukiko, nice to meet you. Welcome to Japan!”
John felt his cheeks flush red, he didn’t know what to say.
Tsukiko waved her hand and beckoned him to come into the room, “Come in! I saw you were sleeping before so I didn’t want to disturb you. Do you want a beer? Do you like Japanese beer? Is it okay if I speak Japanese?” Tsukiko was energetic and rapidly firing questions.
“Yes, please! I like Japanese beer.” He wasn’t well versed in Japanese beer but he wasn’t about to ask for a Coopers.
John sat while Tsukiko disappeared into another room before returning with a beer.
It was a large can, 500ml of a beer called Kirin which he had never had before.
“Kanpai!” They both said as they touched their cans together and John took a sip.
Tsukiko asked John a million questions about Australia and his life over there. Why did he like Japan? Could he eat sushi? And of course, did he have a girlfriend? To which he blushed and just said no.   
She raised an eyebrow as she took a sip of her beer, “Hmmm, the girls here will love you! Foreign men are so handsome! I love your deep eye sockets. Aaaah I wish I had deep eye sockets, look at this! I have no depth in my eye sockets.” She pointed to her eyes and John looked but wasn’t entirely sure what to say.
He’d never really thought about his eye socket depth before.
They talked back and forth for a while and Tsukiko explained that she worked at a small office a few stations away. She didn’t say what she did other than it was an office job and it was boring but she rarely had to do it over time and the money wasn’t bad.  
“Hey, have you told your family you arrived? They’ll be worried won’t they?” Tsukiko said as the conversation lulled.

Since John arrived, he had been so absorbed in everything that he completely forgot about calling home. Tsukiko gestured for him to use the phone.
After struggling to put in the country codes and number properly he finally heard the phone ringing.
Brr-Brr—Brr-Brr—Brr-Kcccht-“Hello.” It was Mum.
“Mum I’m here! Sorry I just managed to get to a phone now. I’m at Tsukiko and Tadao’s place.”
“Oh! Thank goodness, I was worried but there were no plane crashes on the news so I knew it wasn’t that- Love it’s John- he’s arrived!” Mum yelled out to Dad mid-sentence.
“Anyway, how is everything?” She asked.
“It’s amazing – people have been really friendly and helpful and the house is beautiful. How are you?”
“Oh, we’re fine here, nothing much just the usual. Oh, I’m so glad! I’ll put your father on. Hold on.”
John had a brief conversation with Dad before he suggested not to talk too long because the international calling fees weren’t cheap. John put the phone down and thanked Tsukiko.

The two talked a little more and John slowly drank his beer, realising he had not eaten anything since Ryo’s breakfast, he had an empty stomach and felt a little tipsy from the beer. Tsukiko insisted on giving John a proper tour of the house after hearing Ryo had only shown him his room, the kitchen, and the bathroom.
The living room had a similar cluttered feeling to the kitchen, with a TV and some seats. There was a kotatsu (a coffee table with a heater underneath and a blanket around the edges) with two-floor seats around it. It seemed as if there were bookshelves of different sizes occupying every part of the walls – they were crammed with books, plates and even some faded old photos. There was a liquor cabinet and an old-looking computer at a desk.
Tadao and Tsukiko’s room was similar to John’s except much more personal. Tsukiko only briefly opened the door to their room but it reminded John of Mum and Dad’s room. There were his and her clothes in different parts of the room, a dresser, and an ironing board.
The garden went all around the house and while it was relatively narrow, with no specific front or backyard, it all joined seamlessly with large, flat stones of all sizes with moss-like mortar joining them together.
Tsukiko explained that this house had been in Tadao’s family for a long time, it was an old house with many, many memories. “Did Ryo mention that Tadao, him, and myself were friends from a long time ago?” Tsukiko was staring off.
“Yeah…he did. He said the three of you used to spend a lot of time here.”
Tsukiko smiled, “Yes, the three of us are so close. Those men are idiots but they mean the world to me.”
The two continued to walk the garden and the sky became darker above them with the sun nearly completely set by now. John realised and appreciated that Tsukiko slipped into English for more difficult conversations, she must have sensed the limit of his ability.
“You know Ryo, he is a really good guy. If you’re ever in trouble and we’re not around – please go to Ryo, he will help you.” She added while stepping back into the house.

Tadao wasn’t due back for a little while and Tsukiko suggested they eat around Kichijoji so that way Tadao could meet them there. Even though Kichijoji was a train stop away, walking didn’t take long, particularly through the park. They took a slightly more scenic route and Tsukiko pointed out where places like the pharmacy and convenience stores were. 7-Eleven was close to the station but there was another one called Lawson nearby, “I am more of a Lawson fan but Tadao likes Seven.” Tsukiko rolled her eyes.  John was curious about what the difference was.

Passing the station, the two descended a path into Inokashira Park. By now it was dark and only the park lamps provided illumination in amongst the darkness of the park. Several people passed, they seemed to be going home, some were walking and talking with others. A man sat on a bench facing the lake with an easel and the dark lake before him.

Tsukiko explained that Inokashira Park was always fairly busy but there was a time Tsukiko recalled when she would never walk through at night alone. There were all kinds of perverts back in the day and it wasn’t that well lit. One of the most frightening things that she recalled was the time there were body parts found in a bin in the park, “I can’t remember what year it was but some guy was chopped up and but in bags. All his blood was drained out and it was very precise.” John looked at a bin as they passed and wondered how many bins they used to dispose of all the body parts.  
“They never found the guy who did it but it was probably some mob job. People don’t just do stuff like that but then again, you never know…” Tsukiko seemed to be talking to herself at this point.

After circling the lake, they walked up some stirs to find what looked like a restaurant doing yakitori. It was extremely busy and the smoke wafted out as they passed.
It was the same street John had looked down when Toji showed him I 0 I 0 earlier that morning. The street felt different than it did in the morning. If it was still waking up when he first saw it, the street had woken up and put all of its accessories on. They came in the form of glowing street lamps, open stores, and things spilling out onto the street with countless people weaving in between the chaos of everything. Young men and women walked around holding menus yelling out the specials their establishment was offering in the form of all-you-can-drink or special set options.
Tsukiko pointed back to the smokey place, “Actually, we’re going here. Let’s wait in line and Tadao will join us.”
As they waited in the slow-moving line Tsukiko told him he should go and get himself a pre-paid phone from one of the providers. She suggested a provider called Softbank because they were okay with foreigners getting pre-paid phones, even on a holiday. “You probably would have seen a Softbank store this morning as you walked from the station right?”
John realised that he hadn’t told Tsukiko about his little detour, “Well actually this morning when I got to Kichijoji, I couldn’t find Marui and a guy helped me and ended up taking me on the train to Inokashira-Koen Station. I found Ryo’s place from there.”
“Eh? Wait – some random guy helped you? He wasn’t some kind of scam artist, was he? Did he ask you for money?” Tsukiko looked alarmed but slightly amused.
“No, he didn’t ask for anything and his English was really good. His name was Toji.”
“Hmm…okay. Maybe it’s because you are a foreigner. Just remember, while Japan in a peaceful country, you don’t always know what someone’s intentions might be. There is a lot that we can’t always see.” Tsukiko’s eyes seemed empty as she said this as if she had taken a step out of her body momentarily.
John wasn’t quite sure what to say, but assumed that this did not only apply to Japan, it could happen anywhere in the world.
“I will be careful. Don’t worry Tsukiko-san, Australia has a dark side too but maybe it just looks a bit different from how it does here?”
Tsukiko smiled at him, “I suppose you’re right. You’re a smart boy John-san,”
The line had progressed somewhat and one of the staff asked Tsukiko how many people before scribbling something down on the pad. Without looking at John she informed Tsukiko that they didn’t have an English menu. Tsukiko told her that wasn’t a problem.
“OH! Before I forget, you don’t need to call me Tsukiko-san or Tadao, Tadao-san. Please just call us Okaasan (Mum) and Otōsan (Dad).”
John agreed without processing it but then he thought how it would be calling other people Mum and Dad who weren’t his parents. With that said, the words felt different to him so he decided to approach it that way.
As they approached the entrance, Tsukiko started waving at a man in the crowd walking towards them. Tadao wore a dark check suit with a deep red skivvy underneath. Tadao was looked younger than John imagined, but then so did Tsukiko.
Tadao bowed deeply, “John-san, it is so good to meet you and welcome!” He had a slightly husky voice. The man standing before him had short hair, salt and pepper with a well-kept beard to match.  He wasn’t slim but also not overweight.
Tadao subtly touched Tsukiko’s back and she looked at him, smiling deeply with her eyes, “You kept us waiting! Unbelievable.”
“Hey hey! John’s going to find out how much you can’t stand me on his first night with us!” Tadao laughed and Tsukiko did too.
John laughed, not knowing exactly if he was meant to say anything so he just blurted out his formalities with Tadao, “It’s nice to meet you too, thank you for letting me stay during this time.” Bowing deeply in return.
“Gee, your Japanese is good and you can even bow properly!” Tadao laughed and patted John on the shoulder giving a light squeeze as he did.

Shortly after the three entered the restaurant. The room before them was like a hall with tables and seats lining the middle, booths around the sides, and repeated up two levels. Dark, old-looking wood and white panels with white lanterns uniformly lining tables and support beams. A smoky haze hung in the air and it wasn’t just the charcoal grill, people smoked as they drank and ate.
Smoking was legal in restaurants? John was surprised. He couldn’t even remember a time when people smoked in restaurants in Australia but his parents recalled a time when it was very much legal. They never spoke of it fondly.
It was loud, they squeezed between tables and apologised as they did. The young man guiding them darted effortlessly and unapologetically, looking back occasionally to see where the three were. As John walked awkwardly behind Tadao and Tsukiko, he caught glances, leaned in, an whispered before the whole table looked his way. He looked directly back and sometimes they looked away, other times they smiled or laughed.
“There’s a foreigner!”
Weave in between a long table with a bunch of co-workers.
“He’s handsome! Do you think he’s American?”
Side-ways walk between two tables with a ruckus group of uni students.
“Hey look behind you…”
A smaller group of four.
“Oh…there’s one here…”
Two young guys sitting at a table with beers and cigarettes hanging out of their mouths staring directly at John.
Once in their booth, Tadao ordered three beers, pulled out a packet of cigarettes, passed one to Tsukiko before lighting it and then doing his own.
Shortly after their drinks came out, Tadao and Tsukiko ordered a number of things that John had no idea about. He knew about yakitori which was chicken char grilled on a skewer but it seemed like there was more to it. In fact, when the plates came out, it seemed like anything could be grilled on a stick. They could be ordered with salt seasoning or a sauce that was almost like a thick, sweet soy.
John found that he was fond of chicken skin with salt seasoning, chicken hearts and beef.
He was not partial to liver at all.
Asparagus and gooey mochi wrapped in bacon were close contenders too.
Tsukiko ordered another serve of chicken skin for herself, “It’s full of collagen so it’s great for skin.” She poked her cheek as she explained. Tadao laughed, “I think you’ve got enough collagen in your cheeks don’t you?”
Tsukiko lobbed a slap his way before the two laughed again.
John hadn’t encountered a dynamic like this before, the couples he saw in highschool didn’t make jokes like this, it easily would have ended in tears. Even Mum and Dad didn’t joke like this, or if they did it was just about weird stuff that no one understood except them. John found himself wanting to laugh too but wasn’t sure if he should or could. Tsukiko and Tadao wouldn’t have noticed though, they were in their little world during those moments anyway.  
Tadao fired off questions to John all night, asking about how John’s parents were before reminiscing about the days back in Australia, “It’s a good country! No overtime and very peaceful like Japan.”, he took a puff of his cigarette as he surveyed.
“So what are you going to do while you’re here? Have you thought about places you want to see or things you want to do?”
If John were to be completely honest, he hadn’t thought much about what he would do at all. There was a part of him that thought they might show him around but it seemed like the two of them would have work most of the time during the days, “I think I might just go around and explore and see what I can find. I really don’t know. I’ve never been overseas before…”
It was only just dawning on John, still less than 24 hours in the country that he had three months ahead of him. He couldn’t begin to comprehend what he even had to do.
“First time? Oh gee!“
“We’ll both be working a lot but we can give you recommendations for places to go. What do you like? Anime? Sushi?”
“I like shopping, eating and walking around cities. I’m interested in Japanese culture but I don’t know where to start. Anime and sushi are fine…”
“Tsukiko and I can make a list. Oh- hey who was that kid that Ryo knows? He should be about John’s age right?”
“Aahh—you mean the one who lives a few stations away and had a job trial a few weeks back?” Tsukiko was racking her brain as she took a sip of her umeshu soda, “I don’t remember his name…maybe we can drop by Ryo’s place later and if he’s there we can introduce you John. He doesn’t start university until April so he’s like you – lot’s of time.”
“Oh cool!” John wondered what this guy was like and if they would get along.
“Good thing it’s not a girl or she’d probably be all over a handsome foreigner like you! Say John, what do you think about Japanese women?” Tadao gave John a wink.
John’s cheeks flushed red. He did not think he would be at risk of having to come out so soon. His heart started racing in his chest.
Tell the truth.
Don’t tell them.
What if they’re homophobes?
What did Japanese people even think about gay people?
There were always gay references and themes in anime but he really didn’t know.
“Oh…umm I haven’t really – well yeah of course super pretty!” He blurted out awkwardly. It wasn’t the best answer but it also wasn’t a flat our lie. Objectively, yes Japanese women were very pretty. Women in general were pretty but it didn’t mean he was sexually attracted to them.
It was a lie by omission. There were worse ways to go.
“Oh look at what you’ve done! The poor thing has gone bright red. He’s not even an adult yet!” Tsukiko threw a look Tadao’s way and clicked her tongue angrily. There was little jest in her eyes or words this time. She looked at John and softened to a warm and caring gaze, “Don’t listen to him! In your own time You’re just a boy.”
John felt the need to let her know he was eighteen but she waved a finger and shook her head smiling, “Aaah but in Japan you do not technically come of age until you’re twenty years old.”
This was news to John but it also begged the question as to why they let him drink. He wasn’t about to question that though. He was thoroughly enjoying his third beer.

After dinner they walked through the much darker and quieter Inokashira Park. It felt much colder than it did earlier. The air was still and John could see his breath billowing out in front of him.
The stillness of the park really struck him. There was something eery, there was something missing but he couldn’t figure out what it was.
The three made their way up the path and the steps near Inokashira-Koen Station. A few of the stores had glowing windows and people inside. One of those was 万星.
“You would have gone here this morning right?”
“Yeah! Actually, how do I read it? I know it’s 10,000 and stars, is it man-hoshi?”
Tadao laughed, “Aah close. You have the meaning of those kanji correct but it’s actually a name, Maho.”
“Maho? Okay…” John didn’t understand how it worked but he wasn’t about to question it. He knew jack all about kanji so this showed he had a lot to learn.
They entered into the warm, smoky space, except compared to Iseya, the smokiness of Maho was purely cigarette smoke.
Ryo was behind the bar talking to some customers at the counter and looked over towards the three standing at the door. His eyes lit up, “Irasssshai!”
Ryo was wearing a denim happi with a black t-shirt underneath. His long hair tied up as it was in the morning. 
With all the chairs and tables arranged and people sitting at them, the bar felt completely different from when John had eggs there that morning. There were quite a few people scattered around. It’s not like the bar was huge but if Dad was there he would say, oh it’s a great use of the space!
The walls were smoothly rendered in a light beige with countless dark floating shelves scattered in an almost random selection along every wall. Some were high, others were low, long and short. Vinyl records of retro Japanese pop singles, little figurines crowded one shelf while photos of different locations taken on film were neatly lined up on others.
A few customers glanced his way with stares lingering before going back to their own business. A young man with a similar coloured hapi and black t-shirt was collecting some glasses from an empty table and wiping it down. He smiled and greeted them too, “Irashaimaseh” his voice deep and almost didn’t match his face which was soft and young looking. His eyes disappeared as he smiled, there was something fox-like and delicate about his features. This was compared to Ryo who whose thicker and more prominent features gave him an old-world masculinity.
“Ahh that’s the guy! He’s your new friend John.” Tsukiko tapped John on the shoulder and obviously pointed at the fox-like staff member with the deep voice.
Noticing this, the young man quickly made his way over to the three, “Oh I’m so sorry, that was rude of me. Where would you like to sit?” He bowed deeply.
Tadao stepped in, “No, no take your time. We were just saying that our friend’s son John will be staying with us he’s your age and we think you two could be friends.” He said matter-of-factly.
The boy laughed and raised both eyebrows before turning to John, “AH! WELCOME. MY – NAME – IS – KENTA. WHAT – IS – YOUR – NAME? JAPANESE OK?” he said in the loudest and almost patronisingly slow Japanese John had ever heard. The token English at the end was also loud and slow.
John blinked multiples times before stammering out his response, “My name is John. Nice to meet you.”
Kenta turned to Tadao and Tsukiko, “Ohh he can speak Japanese. That’s so cool.”
The two chuckled politely before Tsukiko launched, “Kenta, you’re starting university next year aren’t you? You live on the Inokashira line don’t you?”
Tsukiko had a mission, she was gathering information with a steely determination. Her bob and dead straight fringe accentuated the power in her eyes. Soft Kenta barely stood a chance, “Oh-uh-yes. My family lives near Highashi Matsubara Station…” He was extremely polite in his answers but John could perceive a stress growing within him. He knew where this was going.
Tsukiko continued, “So, John is the same as you. He starts university in his country next year but he’s with us for three months. Won’t it be a great chance for the two of you to hang out? You can show John around when you have time. That won’t be an issue right?” Tsukiko was asking questions, but it didn’t seem like there was more than one answer. The answer was going to be yes, of course it’s fine.
Kenta laughed, it was extremely unnatural sounding and John just stood there awkwardly observing the whole situation. Tadao had walked over to Ryo and the two were snickering while looking over at Tsukiko and Kenta, presumably about the massacre taking place before their eyes.
Tsukiko delivered the final blow, “John doesn’t have a phone yet so you can give me your number and email now or I can just get it off Ryo.” There was absolutely no malice in her voice or actions, Tsukiko was just connecting two people based on them being similar ages and have a similar amount of spare time.
Kenta’s mouth was open slightly, “Uh- I’ll just go get my phone…” He was about to turn around when Tsukiko stuck the knife in even further, “Huh? Don’t you know your own phone number and email?”
Kenta turned around reluctantly and laughed nervously, “Oh yeah! Sorry I just…”
He recited his number and email with Tsukiko checking it with him.
After the awkward exchange, John and Tsukiko joined Tadao who had taken a seat at the bar near Ryo and was busily chatting away. Kenta quietly passed them each hot towels.
John wasn’t sure what to do with it so he just cleaned his hands with it, the sting of the hot towel on his cold extremities made each finger feel like it was throbbing. It was odd, it felt nice.
“Three warm sake!” Tadao seemed to proclaim out of nowhere. Ryo nodded and chuckled a bit as he took three small bottles and put them in what looked like a hot water bath. Steaming, but not boiling.
Once they were done, a small bottle and an even smaller cup were placed in front of John. Tsukiko wordlessly poured his and then her own.
“Kanpai!” With a steady gaze and deep eye contact, Tadao joined in and so did Ryo who had a cup poured too. In unison the four of them downed their Sake. The slightly sweet, frangrant and reminded him of moist earth. The warmth spread within him, his eyes closed for a brief moment.
“Kenta! Come here and join in with our new friend!” Ryo growled over at Kenta who was pottering around the kitchen looking busy. He shuffled over before apologising.
Now there were five cups.
“Welcome to Tokyo John!”
“Thank you!” John bowed his head before they all clinked their full cups and downed another shot.
Kenta put his cup down slowly before bowing and drawing away wordlessly.

After the warm sake, the three took their leave and headed home. Tsukiko and Tadao allowed John to have a shower before they did. He made it quick because he felt guilty. He just wanted to get the smell of the smoke out of his clothes and hair and skin.
By the time he got to his room, he found a small bottle next to his clothes and while he couldn’t make out everything written on it, the pictures on the back indicated that it was a clothing deodoriser. John found some coat hangers in the cupboard, hung his clothes in the sun room, sprayed every inch of them before closing the shoji.
The light above his futon had a string he pulled, once made it dim, twice turned the light off.

Once more John sunk into the futon. The light, fluffy warmth wrapped around him and he found his tingling body sinking into another time and space. His eyes closed and he fell asleep.

The house was quiet and everyone was asleep. Outside, the silver moonlight flooded the garden which was still and silent except for the trickle of the water flowing into the pond.