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.  

*italicised dialogue is taken to be spoken in Japanese*

“Passengers, we have arrived at Narita International Airport where the local time is 7:30 am, and the temperature outside is 8 degrees. To those of you returning home, welcome home, and to those of you visiting, we hope you enjoy your stay.” The announcement was followed by English, and John was unsure how much of the Japanese he understood, but then again, the PA system on the plane was muffled, so how was he expected to clearly hear everything? As John walked off the plane and into the airport, he saw the world outside. It looked like any other airport. There were trees and greenery in the distance, but there was no sign of a city nearby. Wasn’t this airport meant to be the closest to Tokyo?

“Please be careful when riding on the travelator,” said the travelator next to John. He walked towards immigration and saw various signs in Japanese. He had seen some of the kanji before, but he couldn’t read everything. John felt a pang in his stomach. Where was he meant to go?

As he frantically looked around, an older man gestured for him to turn. “Foreigners, this way please.” The man smiled and bowed deeply as he did so. John wasn’t entirely sure what he said, but when he looked in the direction the man was gesturing, it was obvious:

IMMIGRATION LANE FOR FOREIGN ALIENS

John shuffled over into that lane where most of the non-Japanese seemed to be funnelling in from the wider crowd of confusion.

Approaching the counter, a woman sitting behind the screen gestured for him to approach. “Hello, I’m Jo-” John started, before the woman at the counter cut him off with a deadpan expression, “Passport and incoming passenger card please” John awkwardly fumbled for the documents before passing them to her.

Eyes on the passport,

eyes on John,

reading over the immigration document.

She typed on an unseen keyboard before a little whirring sound printed something out. She affixed it to John’s passport.

STAMP

STAMP

STAMP

The lady passed the document back to John and gestured for him to proceed. “Thank you!”

After picking up his luggage and clearing customs, John realized he had the instructions Mum and Dad gave to him and pulled out the note from Tadao. Finding the Narita Airport Limousine Bus Counter wasn’t as straightforward as he anticipated; it seemed there were quite a few bus services. John looked at each sign carefully, not noticing the squat little woman appear on his left. “Welcome to Japan! Can I help you?”

John nearly jumped out of his skin because he was so absorbed in finding the Limousine Bus Counter. “Oh, thank you! Yes, I’m looking for the Narita Airport Limousine Bus Counter…”

“Oh yes! This way!”The woman wore a black uniform with gold buttons and a white collar. At almost a full head under John in height, she marched ahead with great speed, and John jogged after her with his suitcase awkwardly rolling behind him.

Surely enough, the woman took him to the counter. “Where will you be going?”
John looked down at his instructions. “Kichijoji Station…I think…”
She tilted her head slightly, and her eyes narrowed slightly, “Ah…Kichijoiji, right?”
John nodded.

The lady walked over to the counter and spoke to the younger girl behind the counter, who nodded intently as she stared blankly off into the distance. The lady gestured for John to come closer again, and John made his way over.

“It’s 1880 yen for one way, is that okay?”
John nodded.
He pulled out an envelope and took out a 2000 yen note.
“A 2000 yen note?!” The lady chuckled in surprise.

John wasn’t sure what was so surprising about the note but went to pass it to the woman at the counter. She sat there looking at him slightly confused before smiling and politely gesturing to a small plate in front of her, “Put the money here, please.”

John cautiously put the money on the plate before she took it and processed his ticket.

“This bus leaves in 10 minutes from outside Door 23. Please make sure you check your large suitcase in because you will not be able to take it onto the bus.” She smiled at John.
John had no idea what she said and blurted out, “Thank you.”
The young girl looked confused and turned to the woman who took John to the counter, “Does he speak Japanese?”
The woman smiled back, “Don’t worry. I will show him and make sure he gets on the bus.”
“Oh, thank you!” before bowing deeply.

John was unsure about the exchange except for a few words. He felt sweaty and stressed because he wasn’t sure what was going on.
“Come on! I’ll get you to your bus.” The woman was off again and gesturing for John to follow her.

Surely enough, there was a black bus outside Door 23. John checked in his suitcase with a young man who gave him a little ticket back.
John got onto the bus and took a seat near a window. The bus wasn’t full; there were only a few people on the bus at this time, with a few more trickling in before the departure.

“Thank you for using Narita Limousine Bus. This bus is going to Kichijoji Station, Kichijoji Station. We will depart shortly.” Went a nasal voice over the speaker.

The bus left the airport before getting onto the freeway. From here, John felt like he could have been in Australia too; nothing looked particularly different. But then he noticed the trees were different. There weren’t any of the trees he saw in Australia. There were no eucalyptus trees.

The signs along the freeway were different colors, and they were written in Japanese, some with English at the bottom. John was definitely not in Australia anymore.

The bus was silent, and it was at this point John noticed no one was talking. The seats were high, and each section felt quite private. Some of the other passengers had drawn the curtains to the window next to their seats and were presumably sleeping.

John felt tired. He felt like he wanted to shower, but he would obviously have to wait, and the idea of sleeping seemed dangerous because he didn’t want to miss his stop.

Past the highway were rice paddies and green mountains further in the distance, some closer to the highway. Traditional Japanese houses were clustered together looking exactly like he imagined them; ornate tiled roofs with slight curves, white outer panels with wood lining separating each panel. Old and sturdy. Were they hundreds of years old? Maybe. Some houses had gardens with trees that were sparse except for cloud shape puffs of green and large rocks around them.

The rural scenery soon fell away and was replaced with something more urban and surprising. The uniform apartment blocks were scattered throughout the landscape as well as some other buildings that stood out from the rest. John couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, and it took him a while to realize what exactly was odd about these buildings; they almost seemed fake. They looked like the kinds of buildings one would find in a theme park. It was as if they belonged on the set of some American film. Some of them had signs with their names written above;

Hotel Eden

Pink Play

Magic Park

John wondered what exactly they were. One of the buildings even looked like a European castle. The bus passed a sign that had various place names along with Tokyo (60) among others. Was the airport really that far? John wondered.
His eyes closed.

John came to and found the scenery had changed again. The bus was cruising along an elevated freeway amidst all kinds of buildings. Rice fields and trees had been replaced with a concrete forest. In the distance, he saw a red and white tower that reminded him of the Eiffel Tower. John felt he had seen this tower many times over as it had featured in anime and some drama that he had watched in his early high school days. What was it called again? He wondered to himself.

At another point, he saw another spire that looked to be under construction, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was. Some buildings had nets and sports grounds on them. There were concrete buildings that had little houses on top of them and others that had nothing at all. As the bus glided down an exit onto the ground level road, John looked at the people and streetscapes. It was familiar in the sense that he knew he was on Earth, but everything was different. The streets were different from those in Australia, but they weren’t. The shops weren’t any he recognized except for the odd Starbucks or McDonald’s. The tiles on the footpath, the street lights, and even the markings on the road. John was transfixed by his surroundings as the bus continued to navigate the seemingly endless city. Tokyo really was all city. It was like one endless CBD.

After what seemed like hours. An announcement came over the speaker on the bus, “We will soon arrive at Kichijoji Station. Please make sure you don’t forget your belongings and ensure you have your luggage ticket to show in order to receive your stowed luggage. Thank you for riding with Narita Limousine Bus. Just to repeat, we will soon arrive at Kichijoji Station, Kichijoji Station,” the nasal voice of the driver announced over the PA system.

John struggled to understand most of what was said but he grasped Kichijoji, luggage, and don’t forget.

The bus slowed as it went past the front of a big building with a sign written in Japanese with a smaller English sign that said JR Kichijoji Station. There were people pouring in and out of the station and walking along the street, moving across the pedestrian crossing and going in all directions. There were suits, other kinds of office wear, and people dressed quite stylishly in casual clothes. Within these groups, there was a certain level of consistency and uniformity in colors and coordination; it was all completely different from what John knew.
The bus slowly passed the station building and came to a stop under the rail bridge coming out of the building.

People slowly got off, and so did John, waiting in line before getting his luggage. He noticed the way people ducked their head in a quick and shallow bow as they received their luggage.
Taking note of this, John did the same. He wanted to say thank you, but he got nervous thinking about how to say it and missed his chance.

He made it. John was actually in Japan. It was everywhere, all around him and in the air. The air smelled different, and yet there was a familiarity about everything. He was so sure he’d seen places like this before but he couldn’t quite put his finger on which movie, anime, or drama he had seen it in.

Remembering the note, John pulled it out of his pocket again:

1. Leave the international terminal and find the Narita Airport Limousine Bus Counter.

2. Get a ticket to Kichijoji Station (Should cost 2000 yen).

3. From Kichijoji Station, find the park exit and look for the I 0 I 0 building and walk straight down the little street with lots of shops.

4. At the end of the street, you will see Inokashira Park, enter the park and walk around the lake to get to the other side (go from the left).

5. Walk up a small hill, and you will see Inokashira-koen station on one side and a 7-Eleven on the other side.

6. Please look for a shop that has 万星 written on the sign.

7. Please knock, and Hashimoto-san (man with long hair and mustache) will show you to the house. He has the key to give you.

8. Please make yourself comfortable at home! We will be home later. Sorry to make you wait.

John had a while to go, but at least he was in the area. He wasn’t sure where the park exit was, and he couldn’t see a park nearby. There were lots of buildings though.

Walking under the bridge, he noticed a narrower street with another exit from the station. He had to look for the I 0 I 0 building, whatever it was. Was it one – zero – one – zero, or was it i o i o? Perhaps it was ten-ten?

Standing in the narrow street, there were people walking silently. One young girl was handing out small packages to people as they passed by, who mostly ignored her. She was saying something in a sing-song voice, but John couldn’t quite understand what she was saying.

Looking up, John saw buildings towering over the narrow street on either side, and it’s not that they were skyscrapers, but the narrowness of the street made them seem taller. The buildings were covered with countless signs in varying colors sticking out from the buildings. Most were in Japanese, and some were in English, but they were just random words like OK, SHOP, PACHINKO, SLOT, BAR, DARTS. John couldn’t read a lot of the kanji.

Continuing slowly, partly to see what was around him and then also in awe of everything his eyes could take in, John realized he was overwhelmed and couldn’t find the I 0 I 0 building. He started getting worried and was conscious that he had a big suitcase on a narrow street with many people passing around him.

“Hello. Excuse me,” came a voice from behind John in English. John, slightly startled, turned around and saw a young man in a neat navy suit holding a briefcase in his hand beaming right at him. His hair was slick, and his eyebrows jutted up slightly. He was extremely handsome.

“Oh…hello!” John blurted out.
The man smiled, almost laughing, “Are you lost?”
“Umm I’m looking for the ten-ten building. Can you tell me where it is?”

The man tilted his head, “Eh? Ten-ten building?” On first glance, the man had dark brown eyes, but as the light hit them, there was an earthy red hidden within.

John showed the instructions he was given and pointed to I 0 I 0.
The man laughed, “Oh! You mean the Marui department store?”
“Marui?!” John looked again at the word. How the hell was that read as Marui? Three scripts in Japanese were enough; he couldn’t fathom the thought of a surprise fourth script to learn.
“I can show you. This way, and do you mind if I have a look at this?” The man put his hand lightly on John’s shoulder and gestured for the instructions.

John felt a slight jolt run through his body from the touch, “Oh yes.”
They walked along, and the man gestured for John to keep left, “Is it your first time in Japan? Where are you from?”
“Yes, it is! I’m from Australia.”
“Oh wow, why did you come here? Sightseeing or work? Australia is a beautiful country. I love Aussie beef!”

Aussie beef? John found this slightly amusing.

“I’m staying with my parents’ friends who live here and will stay for three months. Did you visit Australia before?”
“Oh wow! So nice. No, no, never, but I would like to if I have the chance.”
The two emerged onto another street, and before them stood a large building with I 0 I 0 on the top. John felt a wave of relief wash over him and turned around to the man, who didn’t seem interested in the fact they had found Marui; he was looking again at the paper printout.
“Hmm…down the street…lots of shops…Inokashira park…Inokashira-koen station…huh?” The man looked puzzled as he seemed to read over the page again. He looked at John, “You need to go to Inokashira-koen Station?”
“I think so, the shop I need to go to is there so I can get the key.” John wasn’t entirely sure.
“I know a better way; I can take you, is that okay?” The man gave the paper back to John.
“Oh…I don’t want to put you out; don’t you have work or something?”
“It’s okay. I can take you. It’s close by, and I’m heading that way too.” The man smiled.
John hesitated, but he really didn’t want to get lost again. “Alright, thank you!”
The man nodded and started walking, John following closely behind.

The inside of the station was a hive of activity, but with very little speaking. The sound of footsteps, like the sound of marching, was constant. Slow beeping sounds and the escalators telling whoever would listen that they were going up or down and to hold while riding. The man walked towards the escalators and gestured for John to follow.

With his suitcase amongst so many people, John felt extremely awkward, and the endless waves of people coming toward him would move around him and his suitcase without a word or any seeming effort. John hopped onto the escalator and kept the suitcase behind him.

“Wait over here for a moment, please.” The man gestured for John to stay put and went over to a machine before coming back with a small ticket which he passed to John. It had Japanese of varying sizes written and a numerical 120 on it, “You put this in the barrier and it will let you through, take it with you when it pops out.”

The man walked to the barrier and put his wallet over a glowing symbol, and the gates opened; he glided through. John clumsily pulled his suitcase and held the ticket and looked at the barrier. It took him a while to find the little slot, and he looked at the ticket for a moment before seeing an arrow. He put the ticket in, and it disappeared before popping up out of another hole at the top of the barrier. The gates opened.

As John passed through, he took the ticket with him, and almost instantly, someone had slammed their wallet down on the same barrier waiting to get through. John hastily pulled his suitcase before joining the man.

Two trains sat at the platform, and they moved towards the one that has Shibuya, Local on the display. The inside of the train was relatively empty.

“We will only go one stop, and usually, everyone gets on the express train.”

A few more people came on and took seats. John noticed that they were the only ones standing, and a few of the people getting on discreetly glanced John’s way.

“The local train for Shibuya is departing. Don’t rush for the train because it is dangerous, Don’t rush for the train,” said a woman’s voice over the loudspeaker.

A nasal voice came over the loudspeaker, “This is the local train, the local train bound for Shibuya. The doors are closing. Please be careful of the gap. Doors are clooooosing.” As all the doors closed automatically, they chimed as they did.

Within seconds, the train began to move ahead, and people were already lining up for the next departure. John found it interesting that no one seemed particularly annoyed that they had just missed the train.

As they pulled out from the station and onto the open tracks, the train started speaking, first as a kind old Japanese lady and then as a slightly peppy but nasal English-speaking woman, “Thank you using the Keio Inokashira Line. This is the local train bound for Shibuya. The next stop is Inokashira-koen, the doors on the left side will open.”

Buildings gave way to smaller houses of varying shapes. Some were oddly geometrical and had little skylights on the roof. They crossed a level crossing and then some more bushes before the train started to slow down.

The nasal man started again over the loudspeaker, “We are arriving at Inokashira-koen. I-NO-KA-SHI-RA KO-EN. Please mind the gap as you exit the train.”

As the doors opened with another chime, the man gestured for John to follow, and he did.
Only a few others got off, and the station was much simpler than Kichijoji Station.

They exited through the barriers, and this time, with less rush, John was able to concentrate on what he was doing. The machine ate his ticket, and the gates flung open for him to pass through.

There was a small plaza around the station with some bus stops. John saw a 7-Eleven as well as some other stores. The man gave John back the instructions, “Do you think you can see the shop from here?” He smiled as he said this.
John took a moment, looking at the word 万星 and then scanning the shop names. Surely enough, there it was on a wooden panel in white stencil writing. “It’s that one, right?”
The man smiled more, and his teeth showed, “Very good! Ah, it’s so rude of me I forgot to ask. What is your name?”
Now that John thought of it, they had not even exchanged any kind of formalities. “I’m John. What’s your name?”
“John! That’s a very cool name. My name is Toji. Nice to meet you.” He bowed deeply.
There was silence as they looked at one another. John felt his cheeks burning and quickly looked away.
“Well, John, I best be going. I’m sure we will see each other again.” He grinned broadly, and this time his eyes disappeared as he did.
“See you again!” was all John could manage.
“I live in Kichijoji so we are neighbors! Maybe I will see you at Inokashira Park sometime, no?” Toji turned and headed down some stairs rather than via the station. He disappeared from view.

Wow, John thought to himself – he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something about Toji. Maybe it was just that he was handsome, nice, and John was probably tired from the flight.

He started walking over to 万星 and realized it was closed. He peered into the dark windows and saw what looked like a bar. Not a soul in sight. If it was open and had people in there, it would have been really cozy. The instructions said to knock so John gave the door a good, hard knock-knock-knock.

Nothing.

John stood awkwardly and looked at the street around him.

An older woman with short hair who glanced at him earlier was watching him again but looked away as their eyes met. John started feeling hot under his clothes.

It would have been nice if Toji waited with him, John felt suspicious knocking at a closed bar as it was. If anyone came and asked him what he was doing, he had no idea how he could possibly explain himself. He started trying to make up sentences in Japanese in his head.

“I’m from Australia. Hashimoto-san has a key.“

It was dawning on John in this moment that his Japanese was quite rubbish. He thought he could speak a bit more than that at least. All those years and this is what he would be able to say when the police came to question some guy with a suitcase knocking on the door of a closed bar which he couldn’t even read the name of.

Knock-knock-knock

In amongst the dormant bar, towards the back behind the counter, John saw some feet, then legs, and a body descending a narrow staircase. A man emerged who was not as narrow as the staircase but by no means overweight with a surprising level of grace. This must have been Hashimoto-san with his mustache, goatee, and long, black hair but tied up in a loose bun on top of his head. He wore a loose denim top and some dark shorts. As he approached, he bowed slightly and faintly smiled.

Hashimoto-san pushed open the door which appeared to have not been locked in the first place, “Sorry, sorry! I was sleeping and didn’t hear you knocking. You’re John, aren’t you? G’day mate!” He chuckled to himself and looked at John expectantly. John didn’t grasp everything he said, “Hi, I’m John, it’s nice to meet you. What’s your name? G’day!” He laughed nervously.

Hashimoto-san smiled kindly, “It’s nice to meet you John. My name is Hashimoto Ryosuke, but please just call me Ryo.” He spoke more slowly this time.

“Tadao is my Dad’s friend, and you have a key…” John tried his best to explain the situation.

Ryo smiled and nodded, “I know, the Tanaka’s are my friends too. They often come by here for drinks. We all grew up together.” Tadao and Tsukiko’s family name must have been Tanaka. Ryo continued slowly with lots of gestures, “I have their spare key, so if one of them is drinking here and gets a bit too drunk I can let them in.”

John was surprised to hear this, what kind of people had a key with their local bar? How was that even a thing? Maybe he didn’t quite catch what Ryo was saying.

“Do you want a drink or something to eat? You must be hungry, right?” Ryo patted John on the shoulder.John nodded, and Ryo gestured for him to come into the Bar.The bar smelled of faint cigarette smoke, beer, and a few other things that John couldn’t quite identify. Basically, it smelled like a bar.

“Sorry, sorry it’s a mess, put your suitcase anywhere and come take a seat. I want to hear about you!” Ryo got behind the bar and got busy wiping the bench and pulling a few things out of the fridge below the bar.John pulled up a seat and sat down watching Ryo; he wasn’t sure what to say, “It’s my first time in Japan, sorry, my Japanese isn’t very good…”

Ryo was whisking some eggs and adding what looked like soy sauce and a few other liquids into a bowl. He pulled out two of the thickest slices of white bread John had possibly ever laid eyes on and put them in a microwave-sized oven/grill. He pulled out a small frypan and set it on the stove. Tsk-Tsk-Tsk and then a huge flame surrounding the pan. He turned around and looked at John, “One thing is for sure, your Japanese is better than my English. This – is – not – a table. This – is – a – what was it again? – Fu-rai-pan!” He said as he pointed at the frypan and burst out laughing. John laughed along too but wasn’t entirely sure what was so funny, it must have been some kind of Japanese joke.

Ryo grabbed the bowl and poured the contents into the hot pan, tossed the bowl into the nearby sink, and grabbed two extremely long chopsticks. With a flame that strong, the scrambled eggs were done in no time.

Two slices of bread on a plate and the gooey scrambled eggs on top. Ryo pulled out what looked like a pepper shaker except all kinds of sprinkles came out – nori, sesame seeds, and brown-looking flakes. He slid the plate of food over to John, “Eat up! I’ll get you a drink.” He winked.

Ryo had an energy about him; John couldn’t place it, but he didn’t feel like he had just met Ryo. It was as if he was being looked after by a relative he saw every so often. Despite being quite rugged and almost grumpy-looking when he wasn’t smiling, Ryo was not at all intimidating.

Ryo walked out of the store, and John turned to his food. He took a bite – the bread was soft and almost sweet. The eggs were creamy, and the sprinkles on top were delicious. He swore he could almost taste some kind of fish.

By the time Ryo was back, John had cleared the plate. “Oh, you were hungry! Here’s a tea. It’s called genmai-cha. Good Japanese tea.” The tea was in a P.E.T bottle, but it was hot. John recalled drinking a tea like this before, but he could never remember the name. It was almost nutty and had a roasted earthy flavor. He remembered the label in his mind so he could get it again. Orange lid, lots of kanji, and a little blue teapot with a funny handle. The word warm was floating in a little orange bubble.

Ryo leaned in, “So, shall we go to the Tanaka residence? I think they’ve set up your room, and so I can show you everything.” John got himself off the stool and went for his suitcase, but Ryo grabbed the handle and started pulling it along as he walked out the door, “No, no let me do it. You must be tired.”

John muttered a thank you and gave a deep bow.Ryo chuckled, “Wow, look at you, so polite! Do they bow in Australia too?”

They walked up a street that had a few shops, John couldn’t tell what all of them were. Some words were in English and others were potentially French, but he wasn’t entirely sure.John realized there was no footpath or parking spaces, just a white line either side of the road. There were no nature strips, and some of the shop fronts had pots with plants and flowers outside. At this moment, it dawned on John that he was very much in another world. The parts were all the same, but the way things were arranged was different.“You’re lucky to be staying with the Tanaka’s; they have a really nice place! Very Japanese,” Ryo said out of nowhere, speaking slowly for John again. John just agreed because he didn’t know what to say.The shops fell away again, and there were more houses now.

“You know, pulling this suitcase makes me feel like I’m going on a holiday. Aaaah, to be able to travel somewhere!” Ryo seemed to be talking to himself rather than John specifically.
“Do you like traveling?” John asked.
“I love it! I went to Guam and Hawaii. I really wanna travel more, but how can I close the shop for that long?”
“Oh…I see. I haven’t been to Guam or Hawaii.”

They came to a rendered, white fence about two meters high, a stone base, and dark blue terracotta tiles capping off the top. They led to a slightly higher entrance with two transparent wooden doors. Ryo stopped at the gate, “Pretty nice right?”

John could see some of the single-story house over the fence, the walls were white, windows had wooden slats over them, and the roof used similar terracotta tiles. Pine trees grew tall above the fence.

Ryo pushed the gate open, and they walked in over large stones in amongst moss and other little plants growing around. The garden felt cool in the shade with greenery and large stones here and there.

There was no lawn, just moss and earth. There was a small pond in the corner, and the slow trickle of water from somewhere else.

“This has been in Tadao’s family for a while, and him and Tsukiko moved in after Tadao’s parents passed away.

It’s the most authentic Japanese place I know!” Ryo looked around almost proudly.

John was impressed and felt a bit out of place.

Ryo continued, “I think they have set up a room for you on the ground floor so you don’t have to worry about climbing stairs. I’ll show you around and then let you settle in.” He started leading John towards the door.

“In Japan, we don’t wear shoes in the house because it’s dirty. Whenever you come in, take your shoes off. Even if you are in a rush.” Ryo said to John as he removed his own shoes at the entrance.
John knew this but said thank you anyway as he did the same.

“You guys wear shoes in the house, right? Whenever I watch American movies, they even sit on their beds with shoes on! You foreigners sure are crazy,” Ryo kept on going as they got into the entrance.

“I don’t think many people wear shoes on their bed in Australia, actually…”
Ryo said nothing as he lugged John’s suitcase up a step from the entrance onto the main floor of the house. Even though it was so bright outside, the house was relatively dark. John was sure there were no people in the house, but he sensed something else as he stepped into the hallway.

Dark wooden floor, white-panelled walls framed with wood. The wood had an unusual smell. It was almost herbal, mossy, and maybe even peppery. It wasn’t overbearing, but it was very much present. John did not know what this smell was. Maybe this is what all Japanese homes smelled like.

Ryo slid open a door into a light-filled room. As John entered, he drank up the beauty of what he saw. It was a tatami room with a futon laid out in the centre, a low bedside table, opened shoji screens extending into what looked like a sunroom with a wooden floor and large floor-to-ceiling windows. The room was clean and minimal. He could see a small garden beyond with more small trees and rocks on the moss-covered floor. John thought to pinch himself; this was his bedroom?

“So, this is your bedroom,” Ryo piped in. He was looking out towards the sunroom with misty eyes and a faint smile on his face; it was as if he was recalling a memory as he looked out at the sunroom.

John walked around the room, walked towards the sunroom, and looked into the garden. It was so peaceful to look at; it felt like a warm hug. It felt like it was smiling at him. He imagined the times he would be sitting and studying or just watching the garden from the sunroom. He felt excited at the prospect. Memories that would be, things he would experience that he couldn’t even imagine.

“Let me show you the rest of the house; you’ll have all day to be in your room,” Ryo was already walking out of the bedroom.

During the tour, Ryo talked about spending time in the house as a kid; it was a lot of fun, and there was always something interesting. Especially during festivals nearby, Tsukiko, Tadao, and Ryo would get ready here, take a break here, and even sometimes all stay over during the summer holidays.

Ryo spoke with a lot of nostalgia in his voice, his face lit up as he recounted when looking into the kitchen or the bathroom and living areas which expanded when all the shoji screens were opened.

There was a hint of sadness in his voice though. John wondered what this might have been.

There was something about the way that Ryo told the story; John could almost see the house go back in time, and three children and then teenagers had various adventures both boring and eventful in a house that had seen it all. The emotions and memories were in the walls and the air. There was a lot of love in the house, but there was also something else. It was the feeling John felt as he stepped into the house for the first time at the entrance.

There was some food in the fridge and a note on the kitchen table telling John to help himself to whatever he wanted and that Tsukiko and Tadao would be home later on, a key lay next to the note.

In comparison to his bedroom, the kitchen was somewhat cluttered. Around the bench and sink, there were shelves of all kinds of sauces and packets of things. Mismatched porcelain cups hung on hooks, and the utensils were closer to the stove.

Cabinets filled with plates and bowls, a bookshelf overflowing with books and nick-nacks. The room was cluttered, but not dirty.

“John, I’m going to head off now; I bet you would like to rest and unpack a bit first. If you need anything, you know where I am. My place is upstairs from the bar, so drop by whenever you like! Even for a drink,” Ryo stood under the door frame, smiling.

The two walked towards the entrance, “Thank you for showing me everything. This house feels really special; there’s something…” John felt himself blurting out his thoughts.

Ryo looked mildly surprised, “Ah, yes. Don’t worry, they’re very kind. You have nothing to worry about. Tadao and Tsukiko are alright too.” He winked at John playfully.

They? John wondered to himself. Who else lived in this house?

After Ryo left, John took a shower and then soaked in the bath. As he soaked in the hot water with his eyes closed, he listened to the birds outside and the occasional drip of condensation from the tiled ceiling in the bathroom. There was an unreality about everything.

This time yesterday he was still in Melbourne with no idea what was ahead of him, and now he was in Tokyo, somehow managing to make it to his destination and having some interesting encounters on the way.

He unpacked his things and organized them in the closet space before pushing his suitcase into a space towards the back and out of sight. He didn’t want to see his suitcase because it only reminded him that his time in Japan was limited.

John looked around the room; he looked outside and felt peace. Without thinking, he crawled into the futon and closed his eyes.

As John slept, the sliding door to the garden opened ever so slightly, and something unseen bumped the wind chime as it entered the room before poking around and sneaking back out.

The flight from Melbourne to Tokyo was scheduled to leave at around midnight, but John had set his alarm for 9:00 AM to make sure everything was ready. He woke up at 5:00 AM.

For a moment, he lay there, believing that if he didn’t move too much, he might fall asleep again. This, of course, did not happen, and he watched as the faint purple and orange dawn slowly lit up the room with a vaporwave glow. John was absolutely exhausted, and his head was so foggy with sleep it almost hurt. He’d only had four hours of sleep after being up late the night before, researching the town he was meant to be staying in. No matter which way he looked at it, he couldn’t seem to work out where the central area of Tokyo was. When John looked on Google Earth, it all looked like one big city, but that wasn’t possible. Whenever he watched movies or anime set in Tokyo, he wondered which parts of Tokyo they were based on. He couldn’t seem to work it out.

Where did Shibuya end and Shinjuku start? Were they the main areas? What about Ikebukuro and Akihabara? They all seemed like large areas, and some of them weren’t even close to each other. How did Kichijoji fit into all of this? Was it a boring area? Where did everyone go on Saturdays and Sundays when they had their days off?

By the time John had actually gotten into bed, his hours-long internet search had produced more questions than answers. He realized he knew very little about Japan. The anime and manga he had pored over hadn’t really provided much useful insight. In bed, John was hot and bothered. He felt that sense of worry ballooning in his chest, but in the end, he was so exhausted he eventually succumbed to a light and restless sleep.

John had realized he would have no idea how Tokyo worked until he got there. He didn’t even know how he would get from the airport to Kichijoji. Maybe Tadao and Tsukiko would pick him up at the airport. John was going to have to ask Mum and Dad.

By the time he heard Dad shuffling around in the kitchen, John was dozing off and while he thought for a brief moment to get up, it didn’t happen. Once again, he entered a deep and dreamless sleep.

By the time John came to, it was nearly 2:00 PM. The painful exhaustion he felt in the morning when he first woke up was gone. Now, he had to get up.

He was terrified about what was waiting for him in Japan. He had never felt such a combination of excitement and dread in his life. John realized that things were going to be different. He was going to meet new people, even. People he didn’t know existed yet, people that didn’t know he existed yet. What a concept.

The rest of the day was a flurry of packing, cleaning, checking, repacking, worrying, re-checking, and then everything all over again.

When it came the time to head to the airport, the whole family crammed together in the car and sat mainly in silence apart from Theo coming up with some interesting facts about Japan. “Apparently, there’s this little street somewhere in Tokyo with hundreds of tiny little bars where some can only fit three or four people.” Dad seemed to be the only one capable of a response as he drove, “I heard the ceilings are low too because Japanese people aren’t the tallest!” He let out a laugh and looked around as if he expected everyone else to laugh too. All he got was a slap on the arm from Mum, “Stop it, don’t say silly things like that! Tadao wasn’t small at all! He was about 5’10”, wasn’t he?” Dad scoffed, “I’m only joking around, lover!”

They pulled into the airport and shuffled through the international terminal. It was eight o’clock, so there was still a fair amount of time before John had to go through the gates. John checked in his luggage and went to find everyone sitting down at one of the cafes. “So how do I get to their place?” John realized he still didn’t have any instructions. “Oh yes! I nearly forgot. So when you get there tomorrow morning, both Tsukiko and Tadao are going to be at work, but Tadao gave me an email with instructions; he said it’s pretty easy to get to this Kichijoji place from Narita.” Dad was searching his pockets. Mum shot him a look as she pulled some paper out of her bag, “You gave it to me, remember?” John looked at the paper in front of him.

1. Leave international terminal and find Narita Airport Limousine Bus Counter.

2. Get ticket to Kichijoji Station (Should cost 2000 yen).

3. From Kichijoji Station, find the park exit and look for the I 0 I 0 building and walk straight down the little street with lots of shops.

4. At the end of the street, you will see Inokashira Park; enter the park and walk around the lake to get to the other side (go from the left).

5. Walk up a small hill, and you will see Inokashira-koen station on one side and a 7-Eleven on the other side.

6. Please look for a shop that has 万星 written on the sign.

7. Please knock, and Hashimoto-san (man with long hair and a beard) will show you to the house. He has the key to give you.

8. Please make yourself comfortable at home! We will be home later. Sorry to make you wait.

It didn’t seem too complicated. John imagined he would probably be able to get to their place from the airport in about 1 hour, judging by the instructions. When John looked up, he noticed that everyone was looking at him. Dad asked, “So does it make sense?” “Well…as much sense as it can?” “I didn’t know they had 7-Eleven in Japan too…bloody globalization…” Mum seemed to mutter to herself. “You’ll be right, matey,” Dad said without looking so convinced. “If you have any problems though, you can speak Japanese, so you’ll be able to just ask someone, right?” Theo added encouragingly. John felt a pang in his chest. Well, could he? He hadn’t even thought about how good his Japanese actually was. “Oh…yeah, of course!” he blurted out.

The four sat around the table, sipping their drinks as people around them came and left from tables. There was a stream of announcements overhead, giving information about flights going to all kinds of places. Reminders to not leave baggage unattended. Terror warnings, reminders to be vigilant.

It got to about two hours before departure, and the group shuffled towards the doors before customs. John always felt like airports had a lot of emotion, but this spot was particularly emotional. It was a place where people parted ways. Not just with other people, but places and memories too.

See you soon, be safe, please come back, don’t go, this is the last time, goodbye, have fun. I love you more than anything.

Perhaps more bluntly, Dad called it the wailing wall. John had become increasingly aware that his Dad was probably not the best at dealing with intense emotional situations and became a deflector, particularly when things fell into the realm of sadness and loss. John recalled times growing up when whenever there was an emotional scene in a movie or TV show, Dad would loudly exclaim, “Ah! Too corny…they went too far,” before quickly losing interest in what was on. This was a frustrating situation for all involved. There were times when it seemed as if this reaction became almost contagious, with John witnessing other members of the family parroting along, including himself.
The only time John saw or heard Dad cry was when they found out his grandmother had passed. It was Mum that picked up the phone and went over to tell Dad, who stopped for a moment, then running off into the bedroom, letting out whimpers before closing the door behind him. John had never met his Great Grandmother, so he just looked shocked and didn’t say anything while the emotional pandemonium unfolded before him. He felt sad seeing his own father so upset but it also made him deeply uncomfortable because he didn’t know how he could help him.
It seemed that there were some events that could not be brushed off as too corny. Some things had to be experienced as they were intended.

John stood opposite his family. Theo stepped out first, “Have the best time, brother,” he pulled John in close. “Just be yourself, don’t hide.” He whispered. John felt his eyes sting slightly. Why was it that Theo knew exactly what to say?

Dad came in next and put his arm around John, pulling him in and kissing him on the head, “Be good, little fella…” His eyes were watery as he smiled at John. Dad pulled out of the hug and gave John two rough taps on the back before he turned to face the other way.

Finally, Mum came forward. Without a word, she pulled John in. He felt her trembling, “If anything happens, just let me know, okay?” She pulled a tissue out of her bag and dabbed her eyes, “Sorry. But it’s just going to be so quiet at home without you…they have earthquakes over there, so be careful…”

Theo put his arm around Mum; she looked so little and fragile next to him. Mum had a sharp tongue and held her ground, but at the heart of it, she was a deeply emotional, sensitive and caring person.

John didn’t care that he had tears streaming down his cheeks. He was overcome with emotion. There was so much going on inside. A mixture of sadness, excitement, dread, and possibility – and while he cried, he also felt numbness. It was overwhelming.
“See you in a few months!” John waved and turned towards the doors. His lip trembled slightly as he tried to smile at his family. They had gone through so much, and while his parents pissed him off sometimes, he realized how much they did for him and tried their best.

A man at the gate was checking boarding passes. He glanced at John and skimmed over the pass, “You can go through now.”

Until departure, the time went by in a surreal blur.

Passport stamped. Departed Australia.

Browsed shops in international departures.

Ate food to kill time.

As John boarded the plane, he looked around him. There were whispers of Japanese around him. Some of the flight attendants were Japanese too.

He took his seat, and it seemed he had the row to himself. John wished someone would sit next to him, and as each person walked past, he couldn’t help but look slightly hopeful that they might be the one to sit next to him. No one came to fill the seat, but John soon realized that this wasn’t such a bad thing. A flight attendant came over; he was clearly gay and could tell John was too, “Hey mister, that spot is empty, so feel free to lift the armrest up and spread out after we’ve taken off and the seatbelt sign is off.” He winked and walked off. John smiled and thanked him.

As the plane moved along the tarmac and slowly increased in speed, John was becoming increasingly aware that the announcements were bilingual.

The plane sped up and shook slightly before John felt the machine become airborne. John was flying. As of that moment, he no longer existed in Melbourne. John thought about what lay ahead; he couldn’t imagine anything. A rush of emotions came to him before he was overwhelmed with sleep. A tear rolled down his cheek.

With the day of departure soon approaching, John found himself thrown into a flurry of activities in the lead-up to his big adventure. He had enough winter clothes to take with him and a pair of boots in case it was wet or snowed, so it was more about buying things like souvenirs, frantically going over his Japanese textbooks to make sure he knew how to say what he needed to, and of course, trying to catch up with friends before he disappeared.

On the same day, three days before he left, John was having dinner with Dra and the gang in the city and had managed to get Kane to make time after his shift later that night. John always found that when it rained, it poured. Not only were there two social engagements on the same day but the same night. John didn’t tell anyone he was meeting Kane. His friends would be outraged to know he was finishing up a night with them prematurely for a boy.

“So did you ever hear from that guy from the club?”

“Hmm? Which one?” John asked aloofly.

Dra clapped his hands, “Look at this ho! He doesn’t even remember who he kissed.”

“Ohhh Kane? Yeah, we talk but he’s slow to reply.”

If it came up at a later date, John would just say he got a call from him before he left and they met up. No one needed to know specifically when.

John was good at lying, and it pained him that he could do it so well because he felt so inauthentic when he did. As inauthentic as he felt, it came so naturally that he wondered whether, in a really warped way, lying was, in fact, him being authentic. It was hard to tell.

At any rate, for now, he justified his lies in that they weren’t significant; no one was being hurt, and if anything, it served for some kind of better interaction with people. If his friends or family never found out about the lies he told, then what was lost apart from John’s apparent authenticity and genuineness? Though even then if a lie was never found out, then was it even a lie? John always found reality bizarre in that sense. Something was technically the truth if someone said it was, and even more so if they convinced those around them it was the case. During sleepless nights when John’s mind came to this – particularly before he came out, there would be moments where he realized that because he convinced some people he was straight, in a sense, he was straight. In people’s minds, he was a heterosexual male and that was a reality. But the more he attempted to do this, then what happened to his existing gay self? If his perceived straight reality ever became so strong that more people genuinely believed he was straight rather than gay, then what would become of him? He knew this didn’t actually mean he would become straight, but his existing self would then be confined to this realm where no one believed or knew about his gay self. This was a lie John was not comfortable continuing.
In the situation John currently found himself in, this was a lie he felt like he could justify. Once he left that dinner, there was no perceivable way that anyone in that group would ever know why he left when he did and for what reason. For all intents and purposes, the meeting would exist in a vacuum. Much in the same way that say if someone went on a vacation where no one knew them, they could be anyone they wanted to be and provided that reality and the one they regularly occupied never collided. What was the harm? There would be none, just a level of risk.

The dinner had finished, and Mary suggested they move to the JWOW wine bar, “Come on, let’s drink because we aren’t gonna see you for months!”

John felt torn; he wanted to have another drink, but he desperately wanted to meet Kane. He knew it would go nowhere and nothing would come of it, but deep down, he knew that if he didn’t meet Kane tonight, he would never move on. John could not have this following him to Japan. The last thing he needed was the spectre of some doomed romance coming with him as baggage. John had enough to take as it was.

He checked the time; he could probably stay for a drink or two, and it was only 7:30, and Kane’s shift wasn’t going to be over until 9:00, so John could stay around until about 8:30.

“Yeah! But I have to be on a tram at about 8:30 because I need to finish packing my room up.” John gave a relatively believable response.

“Ohhh what? Why are you packing your room up? You’re only going for a few months, no?” Kiki was looking at him with her eyebrows raised.

“My parents said they’re gonna do painting while I’m away so it’s easier if most of my stuff is packed up, and I don’t want them to find anything weird.”

Devon chuckled, “Ha! You’re worried they’re gonna find your dildo?”

“I don’t have anything like that!” John felt his cheeks burning. The others laughed, and Kiki rested her head on John’s shoulder, “I’m going to miss our baby!”

The table fell silent for a time. For a moment, John forgot about meeting Kane later on and thought about this group. They really had been there with him through so much; he felt like a part of him was raised by them. He couldn’t find the words immediately but felt like he needed to express something to everyone. Though, somehow the words weren’t… quite… forming…

“Oi! Let’s stop this sappy shit and have a drink. I’m sad enough Johnny won’t be here for three months! Now we know how he felt when we went back home each year during breaks.” Dra clapped his hands and snatched up the bill to pay.

As they walked to JWOW where John stayed for two drinks, any passerby would have seen a group of friends laughing and talking as they marched into a bar. They wouldn’t have known it was a night out before one of them departed.

While they sat in the subdued and cozy basement wine bar, the sun had completely set, and by the time John stumbled out, it was completely dark. Everyone hugged John tight and for a what felt like minutes, no one said word.
“Go eat some sushi and meet some cute boys!” Dra yelled, smiling broadly with his perfect teeth and dark hair framing his face.
“Love you guys! I’ll see you soon.” And with that John went on his way.

John fumbled for a moment and untangled the white cords to put his earphones in. The iPod Shuffle blasted “Electricity” by the Avalanches. But maybe it wasn’t even playing from his little device, it was as if it was playing all around him.

He felt light on his feet and decided to run for the tram. He had no idea if he had just missed it, whether he would just make it, or even if he still had plenty of time. John seemed to float across Swanston Street as he went straight down Little Lonsdale towards Elizabeth Street. The narrowness of the street, the old buildings on either side, and the dark gray shine of the bluestone under the streetlights all stood out. The plane trees that lined the street barely rustled in the light breeze, but John could feel and hear the rustle as if the whole world shivered with excitement just as he did in that very moment.

The world was pushing John in the direction he was meant to be going. He glided right and skirted around the edge of Melbourne Central before weaving through a break in the traffic and getting to the tram stop.

The song continued to blast around him, and John pulled out his earphones and confirmed that his iPod wasn’t playing the song. It was playing all around him. He felt short of breath and closed his eyes momentarily. In that split second, the world changed.

John found himself on an empty Elizabeth Street with no people, cars, or trams. It was just John, the streetscape, and the music. A light fog hung around him and he could only barely make out the end of the street towards Flinders Street Station but noticed two dim lights growing as they moved towards him.

A tram was coming up the empty street.

As it approached, John noticed there was nothing written on the destination, and there was no driver as the tram came to the stop where he was waiting.

John looked around him; it was just him.

The tram doors opened silently as the music came to a slight lull. He felt a tingle wash over him. What was this? He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew that he was getting on this tram. He took one last look around the city.

He wasn’t coming back to this place for a while.

John stepped on wordlessly. The doors closed, and the tram departed.

It was only John on the tram, and he took a seat near the window in the mid-section like he always did. He looked outside, and the street was filled with onlookers waving and clapping at the tram, at John. The closer he looked, he recognized these people from all different times of his life. His kindergarten teacher was there standing next to his Japanese teacher, and then further along were his grandparents and even some of his classmates from primary school. John wondered how drunk he must have been, but it didn’t feel like he was drunk; this was different.

The tram sped up, and all the people he could see disappeared into a blur.

John reclined slightly and felt a deep drowsiness fall over him.

Whatever world John slipped into, he was placed right back into his own as he slept.

There was complete silence and nothingness.

A jolt made John come to. He looked around slightly panicked, where was he?
The tram was crossing over the Moonee Ponds Junction before the stop. John got to his feet and checked the time; it had only been 25 minutes since he got on the tram.

John only remembered leaving JWOW and running to the tram before everything trailed off into some fogginess. He couldn’t seem to remember the tram ride. He must have fallen asleep he thought to himself.
Getting off at the Junction, John felt refreshed, he felt light.
Again, he couldn’t quite place what had been lifted…

Taking out his phone, he sent Kane a message, “Hey I’m here. Let me know when you’re done and where to meet you.”

While waiting, John walked up a deserted Puckle Street with half of its shops vacant and the rest filled with average tenants. The only store he found exciting in the area was the comic book store on Everage Street just off Hall Street. John often bought manga there and frequented it in high school when he used to play Counter Strike with friends at the now-closed internet café on the corner of Everage and Hall. What had it become since it closed… some kind of restaurant or café. Whenever John walked past it, he couldn’t help but feel a little sadness.

John’s phone vibrated, “Finished, meet me in the car park near the Park Street entrance.”

John took a right down the arcade through to Hall Street. It was dark and uninviting with the feint smell of urine lingering in the air. The cream coloured rendered walls were darkened with dust and grime. A mural made by a nearby public primary school made John wonder what the hopes for this arcade were when it first opened. Is this how they imagined it would become?

The side of Hall Street where the arcade led to was desolate since the Old Market had been demolished, and the site remained as a temporary car park.
Development had stalled for various reasons and now the memories of what the market even looked like were beginning to fade. John could only remember one of the entrances and a shop where his grandmother worked at.  He remembered a coin-operated horse ride that would unimaginatively moved up and down for about half a minute before a parent would be required to put in another 30 cents or so. It was all gone now.

John cut right through the Old Market and felt a familiar prickle in the air as he did. No matter when he walked through the Old Market – day or night, he felt something around him. He felt eyes on him but nothing had ever presented itself. What it was, John was not entirely sure.

The Coles car park was nearly empty apart from employees’ cars, and John walked to the opposite end of the comparatively well-lit space to find Kane waiting by the small pedestrian entrance to Park Street.

“Hey,” Kane was still in his work shirt but had a light jumper over the top.

“Hi,” John felt nervous.

“Let’s go for a walk around Queens Park and then I can drop you home?” Kane had already started walking up and out onto Park Street.

John followed without a word.

The park was devoid of people like the rest of the area. People were in their homes doing family things or getting ready to go to work, school, or who knows what. The air was cool and carried the smell of leaves, wood, and nighttime moisture. The darkness engulfing the park was periodically broken by the lamps surrounding the lake and the moon hanging above and giving the everything a silver glow.

“So you’re going? Where was it again?” Kane asked after a long silence.

“I’m going to Japan. I’ll be back, but yeah… I’m leaving.”

“Wow… why though?” He stopped and looked at John.

“Well…I’ve always wanted to go, and long story short, my parents’ friends moved back there and said I could stay with them for a few months so it’ll be really cheap.” John felt himself needing to justify what he was being asked.

Kane chuckled, “Nah, nah, I was just asking. That’s really cool.”

“They eat sushi over there, right?”

“Among other things.” John laughed and rolled his eyes.

Kane smiled, and John realized he was only able to get a proper look at Kane just now. His stubble was brown in some spots and white-blonde ginger in others. His eyes were a light brown, which seemed even more striking against his darker hair. Kane was a little taller than John and seemed athletic judging by the way his clothes hugged his shape. There was no other way about it; Kane was a hottie.

“It’s a shame because I won’t be able to do this with you much longer.” Kane swiftly moved right in and kissed John deeply. The electric feeling spread through John’s body more intensely than it did before.

John kissed back now and between the two, it was a battle of passion. Pushing onto one another against a tree off the path and veiled by the night.

The two wordlessly continued, and Kane’s hands began to move around John’s body and towards his pants. He slipped his hands underneath John’s pants and gently grabbed.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. That’s hot as,” Kane said through his panting.

Kane took John’s hand and directed it downward, where John felt what seemed to be something particularly long and thick, much bigger than his own. John slipped his hand into Kane’s pants to touch it properly; it was warm, almost hot like some living thing. Kane circled his finger over the tip of John’s wet head and slightly under the foreskin.

John pulled back for a moment as his knees weakened in ecstasy.

They kissed some more before John felt Kane’s hand on the top of his head applying downward pressure, “You wanna taste it?”

John nodded wordlessly and let Kane’s hand push him down.

Kane undid his pants and whipped it out in front of John’s face.

It was huge. It looked bigger than it felt in his hand, and John didn’t even know how to approach it.

He looked up at Kane wordlessly. Kane smiled, “Don’t worry, if its too much, just stop at any time.”

With one hand, Kane held himself, dripping wet; he stroked it so the foreskin moved back and forth over the head. With his other hand, he guided John’s head closer to him and moved it towards his mouth. John opened up and felt it slide in.

The taste was sweet and salty; there was the slightest musty smell, and John was unsure what to do but made sure he moved his tongue over gently and avoided his teeth getting involved.

Kane moaned.

John kept going. It didn’t seem so hard, but he could feel his jaw becoming tired, and in the back of his mind, he was also worried that they would be caught. He looked around for a moment, but the park was just as deserted as it was before.

“Don’t worry. I’m keeping a lookout. Keep going; I’m getting close,” Kane said from above.

His grip on John’s head became firmer, and his thrusts became deeper and slightly more frequent. John felt saliva dripping down as it moved in and out of his mouth with increasing intensity. This continued for a time and in the midst of it all, John was hoping he didn’t start gagging and coughing but he seemed to be fine.

Kane’s movements quickened again and his body seemed to tense up as he yelled “Fuck, I’m gonna come!” One last deep thrust, and John felt a warm burst inside his mouth as Kane erupted with an intensity that shook his whole body. There was so much, and John felt that he would either have to swallow it or spit it out; Kane didn’t seem finished yet, so John just swallowed it down.

It was bitter, it was sweet and a little bit salty. Above all of that, it was thick and warm.
Kane stood motionless except for his heavy breathing, and John slowly stood up.

“That was amazing. You’re really good,” Kane was looking at John in disbelief.

“Actually, I’ve never done it before.”

“Get fucked, are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know. I would have been a bit more romantic if I knew that!”

“Nah, I always wanted to, so I’m glad I could.”

“Woah, fuck, okay… orright, let me do you.” Kane got on his knees and unzipped John’s pants. John was still hard and wet.

“Is this a first too?”

John nodded and laughed awkwardly.

“Just relax and enjoy yourself.” Kane winked as he looked up at John.

Kane took John into his mouth. It was warm and soft. Kane’s tongue moved in, over, and around in a methodical pattern. It felt like Kane was trying to pull John further in as he did this, working on him to draw something. John’s eyes closed as he allowed himself to be drawn in further. As he did so, he felt something growing within him, with growing intensity it made him want to thrust further and grow the feeling. He wanted to let it out, and Kane was helping him. John put his hands around Kane’s head and felt his soft hair in his hands.

“I’m close!” John managed as he was taken over by the feeling. It was reaching a point, and he thought he might explode. Kane breathed deeply as he moved harder and faster.

John lost control as his body exploded with fireworks. He could feel himself erupting into Kane’s mouth. Kane drew something out of John that no one else had.

The feeling left, and John felt almost empty; his breathing was quick and sharp.

Kane stood up and kissed him, “How was that?”

“Yeah… good… wow!”

Kane laughed before he stood up and pulled John into a long embrace.

After the two cleaned up, they continued their walk around the lake.

“I’m pretty new to this myself, so I haven’t really been with many guys. Why is this just your first time?”

“Oh, I’ve never really been popular, so no one had ever really shown an interest in me.”

“That’s fucked, and it’s their loss. You’re a sexy guy, and you need to believe that you are.” Kane looked deeply into John as he said this.

John felt like he wanted to say something but couldn’t, didn’t.

The two continued on in silence for a short time.

Queens Park was still at that moment. Ducks hidden away from view chattered in hushed tones. The moon still floated wordlessly in the sky, watching over two souls sharing a moment together.

“I saw this fortune teller a few weeks back; she told me I was going to disappear, and then last week out of the blue, Mum and Dad told me I’m going to Japan.” John stopped for a moment and wondered why he was telling Kane this, but he felt like he needed to share it, “Anyway, since that time, I’ve been having the most weird experiences. I feel like I have nothing left to do here, and the world I exist within now knows that too, so it’s pushing me out.”
Verbalizing it made it sound even more absurd, but John also felt relieved to have told someone.

Kane paused for a moment, gazing up at the moon before turning his attention to something in the trees. “Did you ever play video games? Do you play video games?” he asked suddenly. His face looked serious, almost solemn.

“Here and there. What about you?” John replied, intrigued by Kane’s change in demeanor.

“I’m not making small talk, don’t worry. You know when you get to a certain point in the game, you’ve solved a problem or beaten one of the big bosses?” Kane continued.

“Yeah,” John nodded, following Kane’s lead.

“You know how with some games, when you’ve done that, you can kind of freely explore every part of the game up until that point? You can do that, but the next stage is waiting for you somewhere, and you need to find it so you can progress,” Kane explained.

John listened intently, absorbing Kane’s analogy. They stood on the opposite side from where they had shared their physical moment, contemplating Kane’s words.

“You going away is like moving to the next part of the game, your life. You’ve completed this level, and until you move on, you walk around this level, and things kind of seem jarring and awkward,” Kane elaborated.

John didn’t expect such profound insights from Kane, but then again, he didn’t know what to expect. Their only interaction before this had been an exchange of saliva on the dance floor.

“So right now, everything and everyone around me is reacting as if to say, ‘Hey, what are you still doing here? Shouldn’t you be somewhere else?'” John mused.

“Yeah… but maybe only where your business is finished, so to speak. I think we were meant to meet tonight, and that’s why it worked out the way it did,” Kane offered.

“So this is our business then?” John questioned, seeking clarification.

“Well, it’s not business, but maybe we just need to experience certain things with certain people in certain ways, and that’s it. Neither you nor I control this, John. It’s bigger than us,” Kane concluded.

John understood, or at least he thought he did. It was a lot to process, but it made sense. Not everything had completely sunk in.

“Well, I’m glad it was with you,” John admitted, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Same,” Kane replied, returning the smile.

The two fell into a comfortable silence as they walked back to the car park. It wasn’t awkward, and at times, John didn’t even realize Kane was there. This wasn’t just an experience John had to have; it was an experience Kane had to have too.

If everyone was playing the game of life, then everyone was the hero of their own story. Kane was right; this was bigger than just one person. What impact did John have on Kane’s story? Was it obvious either way? He didn’t know, and he didn’t even feel like he could ask.

As they drove, the streets were quiet, and shops were closed. Kane’s radio didn’t work, and John wound down the window to feel the rush of air on his face. Closing his eyes, he imagined what lay ahead of him, embracing the unknown with a sense of anticipation.

When they arrived at John’s home, Kane leaned in to kiss him. They lingered for a moment before parting.

“Thank you, honestly,” Kane said softly.

John nodded. “Same here. I’m really glad I got to see you before I leave.”

Kane smiled, and John got out of the car. Leaning down to the passenger window, he waved silently as Kane drove away, disappearing into the night.

The street was quiet, nothing moved, and there was very little sound, just the low whoosh of the freeway in the distance.

John quietly opened the security door, heavily leaning as he pushed the handle down. The house felt warm, the air thicker. He moved silently over the carpet, avoiding the part of the floor that creaked and then gliding over the timber floor in the living area toward his room.

John lay on his bed in the dark, his heart pounding heavily, eyes wide as the memories of the night flickered in the darkness before him.  

He felt lighter than he did before, so light that he might float up into the air at that very moment.

Drifting off into a deep sleep, John found himself in a forest near the mountains, the air was cold and he sensed someone next to him. He turned to look and see who it was and felt a sense of calm wash over him. John laughed, “Oh, it’s you!”

By the time John woke up he would forget the most important details of the dream. He would be frustrated with himself that he couldn’t remember who was always appearing next to him.

At this point in time, John wasn’t mean to know who was next to him the whole time during those brief glimpses into this other world.

The red strings had adjusted slightly again.

A little over a week had passed since QnA, and while texting with Kane was progressing, it was going a little slow for John’s liking. Lying on his bed, frustrated, John wanted nothing more than to feel Kane’s lips on his once again, the intimate exchange of saliva and the wrestling of tongues while Kane pressed his body onto John’s. The thought sent him wild. As much as it pained John to admit it to himself, he was also terrified of meeting Kane again because he had very little sexual experience, and he assumed Kane would have much more than him. Despite the mix of emotions, John had a taste and now he wanted more.

The version of events John had given Mum and Dad was much more sanitized and did not involve anything except a few drinks, dancing with friends, and getting some Maccas on the way home – it was the final stop that received the most disappointed response from Mum. “I can’t believe you had that garbage in the middle of the night,” she said before pursing her lips. John had to stop himself from laughing, imagining what kind of face Mum might have pulled if she knew how many people he kissed in one night. A poorly timed trip to McDonald’s would have been the least of her worries.

Another day at home with no real plans, John was on the computer most of the afternoon, looking up anything that popped into his mind. It was liberating having a computer in his own room. Yet he dreamed of getting a laptop so he could do the same activity in bed, but they were expensive, and he couldn’t fathom the thought of saving for one. John’s mind was promptly taken to his pathetically small bank balance, slowly dwindling and definitely not growing. He wondered if he would get any shifts at the supermarket. He hadn’t heard anything since reaching out after finishing exams and didn’t want to call again. Maybe he needed to start looking for a job elsewhere.

In the throes of boredom and horniness, John wondered, are there gay meeting sites? He recalled Dra and Devon mentioning they had met guys on the internet but couldn’t remember the name of the site…

He tried his luck:

“Meet gay men online Melbourne”

Gaydar, Manhunt, and a whole range of other sites showed up. He clicked around and saw white twinky guys with perfect bodies and pearly white perfectly straight teeth beckoning him to join. They were laughing, smiling, and seductively clasping onto one another. The banner above read, “Meet hot guys in your area now!”

John quickly clicked out – not today. He barely had the face, let alone the body, to join a site like that. He probably wouldn’t even be allowed to join. His hands were clammy, and he went into the kitchen where Mum was preparing dinner. She turned around to him, “You’re home for dinner tonight, aren’t you?” John was confused; of course, he was. “Yeah, no plans tonight.” “Oh good. We have a surprise.” She smiled cheekily before going back to hand-mixing what looked like mince and a concoction of other ingredients in a large metal bowl. They would be having Greek Meatballs in tomato sauce on rice tonight. John loved this dish; in fact, he loved all of Mum’s cooking. She was an amazing cook and knew it. It was a struggle to even be allowed to help her cook, let alone convince her to let John or Theo cook a meal for the family instead. John could smell onion and parsley drifting around in the air. The crunch of breadcrumbs being mixed in was all he could hear. The TV was off, but the Bold and the Beautiful was about to start. “Hmm, what’s the surprise?” John wasn’t sure what it could be. “You’ll see. Trust me, you’ll never guess it.” Mum smiled again before going back to what she was doing. There was silence; the breadcrumbs had stopped crunching now. “Could you turn on the TV and put on Bold and the Beautiful; it’s about to start.” She didn’t look up this time. John went over and turned the TV on, taking a seat to watch it. His mind was filled with questions. What was the surprise? Why? Were they getting him a laptop for uni next year? That was pretty much all he could come to. Coming to nothing else, John tuned the impending surprise out of his mind and focused on the episode. He hadn’t watched the Bold and the Beautiful in a while, but it was relatively easy to jump into at random points. Sometimes the story arcs were interesting, but generally, it was a bunch of people running into different rooms and talking to each other, and very occasionally something bizarre happened like a demonic possession, a kidnapping, or a faked death. The current episode fell into the uneventful category, and before John realized, the episode had finished, and the news started. Dad would be home soon.

There was generally a half-hour window between 5:00 and 5:30 when Dad would get home and have a coffee, and then dinner was from around 6:15 or 6:30 at a stretch. Theo would usually be home too, but tonight he would be home slightly later and eat dinner then.

Ting-ting-ting…ting-ting went the familiar sound coming from the front door. The sound was that of a little golden bell on Dad’s keys. He was home. Mum rushed to the door while John acted calm and stayed where he was, pretending to watch the news as if completely indifferent. From the entrance, John could hear Mum and Dad having a hushed conversation; he only caught snippets:

“…was your day?”

“Same…but then…”

“Did you…about…everything organized?”

“…Tad…ready…”

“…John…so soon…”

There was a chuckle and then some silence. He could hear their footsteps approaching, and John got up to greet Dad. “Hey fella.” He held out his arm for a hug and kissed John on the head. Mum was back in the kitchen, “You boys want a coffee?” John didn’t feel like a coffee but felt like he needed to have one so he could find out what the surprise was. If he didn’t get the coffee, he figured he would have to wait until dinner time to find out – potentially. Dad nodded and smiled, “Thanks, lover.” “I’ll have one too, please.” John said meekly. Without a word, Mum got to putting the coffee machine on. Presumably, John would get what Dad was getting. It was definitely going to be black – Dad didn’t take milk with his coffee because he claimed he was a purist like that. In a similar way, he drank his whisky neat because the ice or water just wrecked the flavor, he claimed, “You may as well chuck a perfectly good bottle of Johnny Walker Blue down the drain if you’re gonna mix it.” John couldn’t remember how many times he had heard Dad say this. It was always Johnny Walker Blue, and it was always a waste. Despite this dramatic claim, John had never once seen a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue in the house, nor had he seen his father drink it. He figured it was like lobster – everyone talked about how amazing it was, but no one actually ever really ate it. Maybe.

Just as the coffee machine started to grind the beans, the smell of the freshly

 ground coffee permeated the entire room.

Dad asked Mum about her day, and they went back and forth briefly. Mum came to the table with two cups of coffee, took her apron off, and sat down. “Drink up, boys.” She was fidgety, looking around and smiling cheekily with a hint of something else in her eyes. John couldn’t quite put his finger on it…she wasn’t sad but there was something else…he couldn’t…quite…grasp what was floating faintly beneath the surface. “Darling, did you speak to anyone today?” Mum smirked at Dad. “Well, you know what? I did! I spoke to Tadao. You remember that Japanese fella who used to work at the office, John?” “No…I don’t think so…” John was confused. “I always told him and his wife…what was her name, Tsuriko? -” “It was Tsukiko, darling.” Mum corrected before pursing her lips briefly. “Oh yeah! Lovely woman. Anyway, I always told him you were studying Japanese! He was always asking me how you were going. Lovely fella, really kind…very Japanese.” “Oh right…!” John nodded but wasn’t sure where this was going. Was he going to get private Japanese lessons from them over the holidays? “Well look, they went back to Japan earlier this year, but we still keep in touch over email.” Dad continued. Hmm…no Japanese lessons then, John thought to himself. Mum and Dad were smiling, almost giddy in their apparent excitement. John raised an eyebrow slightly and stared back at them both. The room fell so silent that the simmering of the meatballs sounded deafening now. “So…we told you we have a surprise for you…Do you want to tell him, darling?” Mum was biting her lips with excitement. “What if we told you that this time next week you’ll be in Japan?” Dad blurted out. John tilted his head, “What?” He couldn’t comprehend. His parents stared back at him smiling and as if to say SURPRISE. If John were a Texas Instrument Graphics Calculator, he would have Error Syntax written on his screen. He just stared back, his eyes wide. “You’re gonna be staying with Tadao and Tsukiko for a few months! You’ve had a big year, you studied so hard and have gone through so much. We wanted to give you a graduation present.” Mum was beaming. “I- wow – how?” John was speechless. It was so sudden. “But it’s so soon! I don’t have enough money for a few months.” “Don’t worry, we already got your ticket and some yen organised for you. We can send some more money as you need it but Tadao said you can stay with them for free so accommodation and most of your meals are taken care of.” Dad put his hand on John’s. “I don’t know what to say…” John was numb. He was excited but didn’t feel it yet. It was still too fresh to comprehend what he had just heard. He started to feel hot. “A thanks and a hug would be okay.” Mum laughed and her eyes showed just the slightest sign of tears in the way they sparkled.

With Dad’s hand on his own, Mum’s full smile, John felt something welling up in his chest – it was moving towards his heart and brain where it would unstoppably spread throughout his body at light speed. He knew he couldn’t control it and before he managed to say thank you, he just started crying. John cried, and his body shook. Through the tears, he felt the arms of his parents wrap around him.

He was excited to go to Japan where he had always wanted to go. He was petrified he wouldn’t be able to communicate and he’d do something stupid. He felt horrible for thinking his parents never wanted him to go. He wondered if he might die in a freak accident right before he was about to leave. He was sad that he wouldn’t be having endless weeks at QnA and the possibility of not being able to see Kane again. He also wondered if he would even like Japan. He’d never been there. It was all theoretical. Who were these people he would be staying with?

It took time for John to calm down. John didn’t often cry – he got angry and he got argumentative, but he rarely sobbed like he did just now. When he did it was a big spectacle and sometimes, he would have difficulty breathing or calming down. The more attention he got, the worse it was. If he was left alone he would usually be back in action within 10 or so minutes. Everyone in his family knew this and acted accordingly.

Mum and Dad hugged him tight, and he felt Mum give him a kiss on the head before she went back to getting dinner ready in the kitchen, and Dad finished off his coffee.

John’s breathing slowed, and he listened to what was going on around him. Mum and Dad were talking about the usual – who they spoke to during the day and whatever else stemmed from that. The smell of dinner wafted through the kitchen once more and slowly replaced the smell of coffee. John had stopped crying and slowly took himself out of a heap and started drinking his coffee.

Everything looked the same but it all felt different. Everything going on before him seemed unreal. John wasn’t sure why such an everyday scene he’d been a part of countless times suddenly felt…different.

He finished his coffee.

Over dinner, Mum and Dad explained how they organized the whole thing and had money set aside. Theo had been in on it too and helped them organize everything in the lead-up. He wouldn’t need a visa for a three-month stay; it was going into winter, and he would be staying in an area called Kichijoji in Tokyo. The family he was staying with didn’t have any children but were a fun-loving and youthful couple. Mum described Tsukiko as a little bit kooky and extremely kind. Tadao was a good fella according to Dad.

He can’t remember how many times he thanked them over dinner and after. It didn’t seem like enough. And John felt bratty for all the negative thoughts he had towards his parents since recent times. Despite all the arguments and difficulties, they were planning and putting this plan together all for his benefit.

Later that night, John lay in bed with his eyes wide open. No matter what he tried to think about, his mind went back to his impending departure. Even the prospect of Kane seemed unimportant. He felt restless and looked at the time, but it didn’t register. Did it matter what time it was? Not really. He got out of bed and turned on the computer. The speakers were muted, and he started researching everything he could about Japan. He ended up reading the blog of someone living in the countryside of Japan teaching English and writing about getting drunk every night. It didn’t seem to match what he would be doing, so he tried finding out about where he was staying. West of Tokyo, suburb, various train lines. It was all new and didn’t really mean anything at this point. What would he need to pack? How cold was it? Before long, fatigue got the better of John, and he crawled into bed, falling asleep as his head met the pillow.
That night John slept so deeply, he did not dream.

Ever since his experience with Serena, the world around John seemed to be coming apart. He looked around, and everything he had been so familiar with felt loose; bits and pieces were starting to fall away. It reminded him of the times when the family had come back home after a day trip in summer, and without the air conditioning on, the house had heated up, causing the Blu-Tack he used to hold up all his posters to soften, and some of the posters started peeling away from the wall. He would see marks on the wall he either forgot about or didn’t realize were there in the first place. It was odd, but this is how John felt. Whatever he had put up over the years had peeled away as if to show how quickly the little comforts in life could disappear.

Thursday rolled around uneventfully. There were no comments from Mum; John had been helping her around the house with things she struggled with because of her sore shoulders. Despite the two spending all of this time together, John couldn’t find the right moment to ask her about what Serena had said. He didn’t want to mention he went to a tarot reader because this could derail his plan to try and find out more about what his gift meant.

The conversation prompted John to recall memories he had buried deep within him, particularly during his childhood – visitors in his room at night watching from the windows. Voices in his room and prophetic dreams predicting the most mundane things. John remembered that each time he experienced something like this, he felt exactly the same way – there was a part of him that was scared but also very much accepting of what he was experiencing. To John, seeing a ghost in reality wasn’t like in the movies where someone would run off screaming.
He would observe it, observe this impossibility right before him, and then just accept it. John had never tried to speak to the visitors; he had never tried to go further – that’s what he felt would be a terrifying next step.
Deep down, John felt that while they knew he could see or sense them, they wouldn’t try to do anything further unless he did so first.

It was around 4:00 pm, and Mum came back from the supermarket and started unloading the groceries. “So what time are you going tonight?”
“Dra said from 9:30.”
“Okay, I’ll drop you off. Do you think you should have a rest? It’s going to be late for you.”
“You don’t have to; I can catch the tram after dinner.”
“Catch a tram at night? They don’t even run that late, do they?”
John wasn’t going to argue, and taking a nap was probably a good idea. He had no idea what the night ahead was going to be like.
“Thanks, Mum; I might take a rest. Good idea.”
John went into his room and lay down. He didn’t need an alarm because someone would wake him up for dinner.

As his eyes opened, John didn’t know what time, day, or even year it was. It was still light outside, so only a few hours could have passed, but now he could smell food wafting into the room and hear the low hum of the rangehood.
“I’ll have a coffee, please, love.” Dad was home, obviously just home because he was having his coffee.
John just lay there for a moment, still numb from his nap. His bedroom shared a wall with the kitchen and dining room, so he could hear most conversations at this time, not that there were any secrets.  Sometimes they were muffled, but he could pick up most of what was being said.

“…it’s tonight?”
“…I said I’ll take him…”
“…time…late?”
“I just want him to be safe.”

John decided to wait a while and looked around at his room: the green carpet, the slight gloss of the paint on the skirting boards, the bright red light coming from the clock radio on his bookshelf, the stack of CDs and a Japanese fan with a crane open and on display next to it. One of the exchange students, Erika, gave him that. She had a crush on him, and even when he told her he was gay, she smiled and said she still liked him.

After dinner, John got ready and put on the new T-shirt he had bought with Mary earlier in the week and went into the living room. Mum and Dad were watching TV, and both looked at him in unison.
“Ready to go?” Mum asked.
John nodded.
Mum already had her shoes on and wrapped her light jacket around her more, as if she was feeling the cold despite it being summer. Dad got up and put his arm on John’s shoulder. “Be good and have fun tonight.”
His other hand moved to meet John’s and stuffed some cash into his hand.
“Get yourself some drinks and a cab home; don’t be stingy!”
“Thanks, Dad.” John gave him a hug and went out the door with Mum.

The two sat in the car quietly, and Mum fiddled with the radio a few times before seemingly giving up, “The radio is crap at this time of night…”
John wondered if now was the right time to ask. “Can I ask you something about Pappou?”
He could feel Mum’s side glance as she drove. She let out a small sound indicating John to continue.
“Did he know an old woman in the village with some kind of… gift?” They stopped at some lights, and Mum turned to look at him with her mouth half open.
“How did you know that?”
“I feel like I have something like he did; it came from him, didn’t it?”
Mum didn’t say anything for a while, and she looked nervous, as if having the conversation would get her in trouble.
“Look, yes – but please, you have to promise you won’t say anything to your father. He really doesn’t like it.”
John nodded.
Mum continued, “I have it, but it’s not strong, and I feel like you have it stronger than I do.”
“Why’s that?”
“All the times you used to come to us telling us you had seen things or heard things. I knew exactly what it was.”
“So, Pappou has it and you also have it?”
Mum nodded with her eyes still fixed on the road.
She hadn’t bothered taking the City Link because the roads were quiet during the weeknights. They breezed towards the city with few red lights stopping them.
“Which part of the city does your friend live in?”
“He’s up La Trobe near Flagstaff Gardens.”
Mum said nothing for a few minutes before seemingly deciding to continue, “From what he’s told me, there was this old woman in the village. Call her a witch doctor, I don’t know what she was.”
John felt as if he was hearing the information for the second time but took up every word Mum was saying.

“The story goes something like this. There was an old seeing and healing woman in the village, and she would take away evil eyes and other curses. People would go to her when they had an ailment even a doctor couldn’t cure. At that time, doctors could only do so much when people got sick, so in desperation people would reach out to these healers.
While she was widely regarded, she wasn’t popular – nor was she unpopular. Just because she helped everyone, it didn’t mean she was nice.
Pappou, of all people, developed a bond with her, and they spent many afternoons together when he had finished school. She showed him many things but taught him very little. Over time, the old woman grew weak, and she began to fade. The last time Pappou saw her, she pulled him close and whispered words in his ear that he could not understand. As those words entered his ear, it was as if some part of her left the old ladies body became a part of him. She drew away and rested her head. From memory she said something about only passing on some parts of her gift because the world was going through a change from old world to a new one. She then said that it would now be part of his family and to use it as a guide. After that, she sent him off. She died later that night.”

John was speechless; he no longer felt as if he was going to his first night out. He had just received an answer that raised more questions.
“I know I’ve seen ghosts, I have dreams that usually warn me or tell me something about someone, and that’s about it.” As Mum spoke, John realised he had never heard her speak so candidly before; there was a clarity and strength in her voice.
It was as if she had been waiting for this moment too.
“I definitely see ghosts, I have had dreams of things that haven’t happened yet, and that’s about it so far.” John said.  
“Hmm seems quite similar then.”
They drove in silence for a little longer. John felt that everything and nothing had changed.
What could he do with this information? Nothing really.
John still had this gift; all he knew now was where it came from.
Was it more legitimate now? No. It was as it was.
Would his day to day change? Probably not.
Despite all of this, John felt a closeness with Mum that he hadn’t felt for a long time.
Was that the point of all of this?
Was that why Serena had told him about where the gift came from?
John was deep in thought, and evidently so was Mum because the two sat in complete silence until they arrived.
The car pulled up in front of the apartment block. Mum craned her neck to look up at the building, “So he lives there?”
“Yeah, it’s a nice place.” She nodded.
“Thanks for the lift; I’ll see you tomorrow!”
John went to get out of the car, and Mum grabbed his arm gently, “How about a hug and a kiss?” John leaned back and embraced Mum. As they drew apart, she thrust a note into his hand, more money. “I know Dad gave you something already, but just in case. I want you to have enough just in case the drinks or the cab is expensive.” John just smiled, “Thanks, Mum.”

It was a crisp summer night. The day had been hot, the roads, footpaths, and buildings still radiating heat, but the air was cool. There was no wind. John took a deep breath and waved as Mum drove off.

After being buzzed up via the intercom. John got to the fourth flood , walking the path he had so many time. He knocked a few times at the door, and a voice yelled from inside, “Come in!” The door was unlocked and opened into the usual party time at Dra’s place. There was some Beyonce playing, and the gang was standing around the kitchen bench with mugs; there were some bottles of cheap champagne lined up along the bench. Screams and arms in the air coming towards John all at once,
“Congratulations!”
“How do you feel?”
“Let’s party, my darling!”
Tonight it was Mary, Dra, Kiki, and Devon. John didn’t know Kiki and Devon as well, but they were always around and easy to talk to. If everyone in the group was a character, it went something like this: Mary was the tragic beauty, cynical on men but big on love. Dra was like Carrie from Sex and the City. Kiki had a sexy kitten vibe and lots to say. Devon was the daring fashionista. It could have been the most mundane catch-up, and Devon would turn up wearing a tropical fruit-patterned silk shirt with all but one button done. Tonight was no exception. Devon wore short leather boots with a slight heel, tight black jeans, a signature silky shirt, and a gaudy silk scarf tied around his neck. Everyone looked so glamorous to John.

In comparison, John felt clunky and awkward and wondered why these people took him under their wing and became his friend. When they all sat around and talked about what was going on, John felt like a passive observer – what could he possibly contribute that they hadn’t already experienced? Despite this, they always asked him what was going on, and they listened. Not only did they listen – they seemed to drink up every word. Sometimes there was advice and other times warm smiles or sympathetic eyes. For this, John felt a sense of belonging that he didn’t recall feeling ever in a friendship group.
It was bizarre how foreign this sense of warmth felt.

Despite everything before him, something hilarious stood out. This bunch of cool cats drank their champagne out of coffee mugs. John didn’t know much about how to party or what being over eighteen meant, but he was pretty sure people drank champagne out of champagne glasses.

Mary pouted her lips a little bit, “You want a champagne?” John nodded. Dra turned around, “One of our ghetto champagne glasses coming right up!” He slammed a mug onto the bench, and Mary carefully poured before passing the drink over to John. The group clinked their mugs together, “To Johnny finishing high school, to dancing and being fucking fierce!”

As John gulped down the drink, he remembered how much he did not like champagne; it had a bitter kind of flavor, but he wasn’t going to complain. He would definitely drink something different at the club, though. Hopefully, they had other things he could drink.

John had to ask, “Why do you drink out of mugs?”

Kiki looked at the others; there was a lull in the conversation, only the music playing a Beyonce song John had never heard of.
Everyone’s eyes met, and they all broke into hysterical laughter. John was confused and looked around; through tears, Devon gestured to Kiki to tell John what was so funny.

“So, we used to have champagne glasses because we thought we were classy bitches,” she laughed again and then wiped tears from her eyes, “But the glasses kept breaking no matter how many times we replaced them. Every time we drank, we would lose two or three glasses, and it was just getting ridiculous.”
Kiki then gestured over to Dra, who had composed himself and took another swig from the mug, “Anyway, so I was talking to Brie, you’ll meet her one day, but she’s a rich bitch who lives in East Melbourne with her rich old white man – and I told her how our champagne glasses kept breaking and we didn’t know why. She basically turns around and says, Dra? They keep breaking because you’re not a classy bitch – you’re a ghetto bitch. Get some mugs!” Everyone broke into laughter once more, and John laughed too. He didn’t really get how this Brie person decided that Dra and his friends were ghetto bitches, but they seemed to think it was hysterical.

John wondered why they weren’t angry? Wasn’t it offensive? He didn’t get it, but they seemed to embrace this reality with gusto.
“It’s funny because since we started using mugs, we haven’t broken one since,” Mary said through laughter.
“When you go with what’s natural to you, things just go right. Don’t fight the flow,” Devon often came out with words of wisdom.
“Go with the flow, but you gotta make sure it’s your flow,” Dra added in.

Devon’s statement was one thing, Dra’s on top of that added something more for John to think about. “I gotta find my flow then,” John added as if making sense of what he was hearing. This was not about mugs and champagne glasses anymore.  
There was a lull again as John seemed to get lost in thought.
Kiki piped in and held her mug out, “Cheers to your flow!”
They all clinked their mugs together once more.

The line outside QnA seemed big, and John wondered how long it would take them to get in. The streets were different at night. The people walking around were different. Like some alternative world popping up when the city workers went home, the shops closed for the day – the restaurants, bars, and clubs would start to come to life. The line zoomed, and after flashing his ID and a once-over from the security guard, they were in.

The music was loud, and the bass was louder. Some parts of the club were well-lit, and others were dim or dark. It was a chaotic feeling of people pulsing through small spaces and a thousand voices flowing in an undercurrent of an ocean of music and atmosphere. One of the first things to hit John was the smoke. There was a haze in the air, thick and strong. Dra grabbed John’s hand and turned around, “I’ll show you around, and then we can all dance!”

After making their way through the narrow entrance and some steps, they entered the dance floor, which was a cavernous space, a huge projection on the wall, and a DJ booth in a clamshell elevated in the top corner. A separate staircase took them to a mezzanine level with seats tucked along in dark nooks, leading to another room with a bar and a small dance floor. Another set of stairs looped down back to near the entrance.
QnA had a sticky warmth to it. Like St Jerome’s, it didn’t feel clean, but it felt comfortable. In the front bar, Devon, Kiki, and Mary stood around a small table with a round of drinks. Dra and John joined them and did another cheers before downing their drinks and heading to the heaving main dance floor.

Once they moved into the thick of things, conversation stopped, and John noticed everyone fell into their own trance-like state as they danced to the music. “Black and Gold” pulsed through the room, each beat pushing each person to move their body in their way.

“I see a thousand eyes staring back…”

John looked around and wondered how to dance.

“Then most of my life isn’t real… it’s all just a bunch of matter…”

He started awkwardly moving his body, closing his eyes and felt a tingle run through him. He felt stiff, but he wanted to fight the clunkiness. John wanted to break out of the hard shell around his body – the body no one saw.

The song was over, and the next was already starting. John noticed everyone shifting to the vibe of the next song. Pussycat Dolls was next –

“Be careful what you wish for because you just might get it!”

Everyone around him became more theatrical now. Effeminate men strutted and jiggled their imaginary breasts, masculine women thrusted their crotches out and they wrapped their arms around each other before locking into a passionate kiss. To the left of John was a guy dancing with a few others. They locked eyes, and John immediately looked in another direction before awkwardly glancing back to find him still looking at John. The guy smiled and showed some little dimples through his sandy-colored stubble. John managed a smile back, but it seemed hard. Did he smile enough? What now?

“Just dance… gonna be okay… doo doo”

John noticed the guy strategically dance a few steps away from his friends and closer to John.

“B-boom, B-boom, B-boom”

John couldn’t believe this guy would be interested in him; it must have been a mistake. There must have been someone right behind John. But he couldn’t ignore him just in case he was interested. John turned to face him and danced to the beat of the song. They moved closer. The music became muffled and everything seemed to be fading away.
John realized – he was definitely interested. The guy leaned, his mouth close to John’s ear, “You’re cute. What’s your name?”
“John, yours?”
“Kane.” He leaned back slightly, but now his hand was brushing John’s. His hand was rough but it felt nice. The guy with the sandy-colored stubble and dimples in a washed-out grey tank top was no longer just a guy – he was Kane. Kane clasped both of John’s hands and he pulled him closer and kissed him.
There was beer, sweat, and something indescribable in the taste of the kiss.

It was so raw and electrifying. It was like some unfiltered substance – a drug. It didn’t taste 100% amazing, especially when it came to describing it, but it was addictive. As they kissed, Kane’s tongue gently dancing with John’s, guiding and sometimes deviating to probe other areas of his mouth – John became acutely aware that people around them would be able to see. He imagined eyes on them – glances of envy? Disgust? Joy? John wasn’t sure. What song was on? John didn’t know, nor did he care.
He was enjoying this moment with Kane. It could have been five minutes, it could have been five hours. Before long,  Kane pulled away gently and put a hand on John’s chest before leaning in, “Thanks cutie, can I get your number?” Kane passed his phone over to John who awkwardly entered in the digits. “I’m in Essendon North.” John blurted out.
“Oh, I work at Coles in Moonee Ponds. Maybe we can drive around after my shift some time?”
“Sounds good.” They looked at one and other for a few moments longer and Kane leaned in again, “I’m heading off now, gotta find my friends.”
Another lingering kiss on the lips before disappearing off into the crowd.

John stood for a moment, unsure what had just happened. The music was coming and he refamiliarized himself with his surroundings that had been a blur just moments before.

John found the others nearby dancing around as if they had no idea what had just happened and he sheepishly went to rejoin them. They all danced for a bit more, but the next song was a bit of a flop and Dra shook his empty drink and gestured upstairs.

It was less crowded upstairs and easier to talk. Mary gave a cheeky wink to John, “Who was that hottie?” John felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment, “Oh um- his name is Kane-“
“A real hottie, he looked pretty straight too, no?”
Kiki smacked her lips, “You know, so many ‘straight’ guys come here and make out with some guys and some girls. Mary and I have a fair bit of luck too.”

The rest of the night passed without event. John made out with a girl and two more guys, admittedly those encounters felt less electric than his encounter with Kane. There was something seeing everyone else making out and touching bodies that made John want to do the same thing.

It was about 2:00 am when the music wound up, and the lights started coming on. The infinite dancefloor now looked like haphazard community hall space. As they left through the small hallway to the entrance, some of the people who looked magnificent in the dark didn’t look so amazing in the light.
Everyone scampered outside where it was dimly lit again.

There was another club called The Peel, but the group decided they felt the need for some food before heading home, and Maccas was the closest thing. John and his friends joined a procession along the now deserted street to the golden arches. It was as if half the club would be heading there with them. John couldn’t remember what he ate and recalled the taxi ride home being uneventful. It came to $28.50, and he still had money left over which he pocketed for his exploits later in the week.

Once he got home, John became acutely aware of how heavily he reeked of smoke. He hopped into the shower, took some Panadol, and crawled into bed. His ears still rung from the music. His body pulsed from the beat of the music.
He remembered Kane’s lips on his.
On the edge of sleep, he wondered if he was floating or it was just his imagination.
John fell asleep.

On Tuesday morning, when John woke up, he felt different somehow. Was it the relief of being able to go out? That was part of it, but there was something else lurking within him that he could not quite make out. It was as if, on purpose, it was remaining obscured so he could only glimpse its presence but not see what it was.

He lay there for a moment, turned over to the window, blinds still down but intense sun blasting through the gaps. Today was going to be hot; it would have only been around 7:30 am, and his room had warmed up considerably. He grabbed his phone and confirmed that it was 7:01 am, close enough. There was also a message from Mary: “Johnny!!! ‘Dra said you’re coming to QnA on Thursday. Do you wanna join me for shopping and something fun today? Trust me, you’ll love it x”

Mary was one of the girls in the group and second only to ‘Dra in her influence. While ‘Dra was quiet and almost brooding, Mary had this contagious, electrical vibe that made those around her wake up and get into the spirit of whatever she might have been up to. She told it like it was, and while John had interacted with her in the group, this would be the first time they spent one-on-one. He typed out his reply saying yes and asking what time and where before he got up and headed out into the kitchen.

The smell of toast and coffee meant that Dad was up and getting ready for work. “Morning, matey,” Dad said with a mouth full of toast and what looked like ricotta spread on top as he watched the morning news. John mumbled a good morning back and went to start making himself a coffee. There was something on the news about ongoing inquiries into the Black Saturday Bushfires that happened earlier in the year and further reports of near misses of prams rolling onto train tracks off the platforms all over Melbourne’s train network. Dad shook his head as he watched the onslaught of bad news and made a tsk-tsk sound. John recalled that post 9-11, everything in the world just seemed to get worse and worse whenever he watched the news. While he thought this, he also wondered if it was always this bad and if 9-11 was the event that actually made him watch the news more keenly than he did before.

John took a seat on the couch instead of at the table to watch the news a little more. “Hey, mate, I know you’re excited to go out and explore with your friends, but your Mum and I just worry, that’s all,” Dad said from behind. John wasn’t prepared or in the mood for the conversation but engaged anyway. “Yeah, but I’m not doing anything wrong.”
“I know. Believe me, I know. It’s just a lot for us to process, and there is a lot we don’t know, so it’s scary for us.”
“I’m not going to do anything stupid. Plus, some of the stuff you told me you did when you were younger… didn’t you pretty much drive a car off a cliff and only just got out in time?” There was silence, and John turned around to see his dad smiling nostalgically. “Yeah, look, at the time, everything felt great, and I thought I was invincible. I thought my friends were invincible, but as you get older, you realize how fragile everything is.” John looked at his dad, his short, wavy, and slightly greying hair. He was cleanly shaven except for his moustache and goatee. Dad always seemed tall, but in reality, he probably wasn’t any taller than 176 cm, with a relatively solid build but by no means overweight. It was his personality and energy that made him seem bigger than he actually was. Whenever John argued with his parents, his Dad seemed to always take the good cop role. It wasn’t that Mum was the bad cop, but it seemed like they slipped into these roles naturally. “Just give us time. We just want you to be happy.” John smiled and nodded before going back to his coffee and focusing on the news. What Dad had just said, John believed. He believed his parents trying in their own way. John was trying too.

After a bit of back and forth with Mary, John found himself heading to the city from late morning. It usually took about 40 minutes by tram. The timetable at the tram stop could not be relied upon, so John often found himself leaving an extra twenty minutes early so he wouldn’t be late. Whenever he mentioned Essendon North to his friends, they said it sounded far, but not wanting to sound like he lived too far from the city, John often found himself saying it only took 30 minutes. The response was always still, “OH my god! So far!” But it didn’t seem as bad as 40 minutes with a 20-minute insurance policy on top. There was no way of telling when the tram would be coming until the tram stop came into sight with the possibility of the tram zooming past and having to wait another ten to twenty minutes or getting up from the tram stop shelter and checking if it was coming in the distance. This was always a particularly stressful time. Luckily today, the tram came within minutes of his arrival at the tram stop. John would make good time today.

Over the years, particularly from around age 15 or 16, John noticed how much the city had changed. He remembered specifically when Daimaru shut down and then became a shopping centre known as Melbourne Central. From there, it seemed to become more and more exciting. Was it always like this? Was it just that ‘Dra and the others knew the good places to go? John wasn’t sure, but he looked forward to finding a new place every time he ventured in.

Mary told him to meet her at St. Jerome’s on Caledonian Lane next to Myer. John wasn’t sure if it was a shop or a café. When he got off at Melbourne Central and walked over, the lane looked extremely unassuming, and he couldn’t see a sign for the shop. He could hear music, and even though it was only 11 am, the lane was completely drenched in sunlight. A number of restaurants facing onto Swanston Street had their kitchens backing onto the lane. An old man sat on one of the steps down from the door to a restaurant kitchen. The sun illuminated his tanned skin as he looked up to the sky with closed eyes and took a drag of his cigarette. As John passed the man, he saw a door slightly further down opposite where the music seemed to be coming from. It was hard to tell if it was an abandoned shop; there was no sign, some crappy fake vines, and what looked like a homemade bench at the front. It was hard to see through the window inside. It wasn’t dirty or covered, but John just couldn’t see through. Looking in, John felt a knot in his stomach. What if it was the wrong place? What if they laughed at him? He started picking at his right thumb with his pinky finger. Just in case, John walked the length of the laneway to check if St. Jerome’s was a little further down, and he wasn’t walking into the back of some shop. The lane wasn’t long, and it seemed like this was the only place.
The music kept going.
John held his breath and passed through. From the blinding daylight to the soft and calming dark and an unusual smell that included toast wafted through. A girl with a straight cut fringe and tattoos behind the bar smiled at him, “Hey you!” The store looked empty. She seemed friendly, but John was terrified he might say the wrong thing. “Is this St. Jerome’s?” “Yeah,” She laughed.
“I’m meant to meet someone here…”
“Sexy girl with the big hair? She’s at the back.” The girl laughed.
John blushed a bit and awkwardly shuffled a few more steps forward.

The place was cramped, dark, and didn’t seem all that clean. But despite all this, it had an atmosphere he had never experienced. Was he in someone’s living room? There were kitsch lamps that didn’t match, random little figurines and objects from eras gone by, abandoned by their owners to find a place here. Chalkboards with drink specials and anything else you might imagine. The place was tiny, barely bigger than John’s own bedroom. Across from the entrance at the opposite end of the store was a door leading outside, and John could see Mary sitting down with her sunglasses on, a beer in her hand, and a cigarette in her mouth. She gestured the beer to him as if to cheers. John awkwardly waved back.
“What can I get ya?” The girl at the bar pulled his attention back to the room.
“Ohh umm… I might get a beer, please.” John was shocked at the words coming out of his mouth. He was ordering a beer. Did he have his ID?
“We have a few; what would you like?”
John nearly choked. What kind of beer? He didn’t know!
“Oh… I… haven’t been here before, what’s a good one?”
The girl seemed to bite her lips as she tried not to chuckle, “Aww well welcome! Don’t worry, how about a Coopers? It’s easy to drink, especially in the morning.”
“Sure, that sounds good.” John awkwardly fiddled around with his wallet and got his ID and card out to pay.
“Oh babe, don’t worry, I don’t need to see your ID. If it’s nighttime, we have our security guy out the front, and he’ll check you.” She passed the bottle of Coopers over and swiped his card.

John made his way out into the courtyard where Mary was sitting. She got out of her seat and wrapped her arms around him, “Congratulations, Johnny! You’re done with fucking VCE, and you can party all summer with us.” They caught up, and Mary told John about the latest gossip in the group. Jake, the guy who had caused some chaos, had finally gone back home and given up on his studies in Melbourne, so she was relieved. “I think he’s just gonna take over his parents’ company or something.” She shrugged and took another drag of her cigarette. John told Mary about what had been going on at home, and she listened intently, as she always did. As much as Mary was an extrovert, she always listened to John wholly. It felt different from when other people around him at school would say they were listening but be doing other things or cut him off halfway to tell a story of their own.
“You know, it’s kinda good you didn’t go to schoolies. It’s crap! Have fun in your own city. I swear this place is fucking fun.”
John was excited about Thursday and also curious about St. Jerome’s. As he took another sip of his beer, he looked up at the patch of sky in between the buildings surrounding him, brick buildings – old ones. Myer was right next door – the very Myer store that he had been to so many times over the years with Mum, Dad, and Theo, and now he was sitting next door in some tiny bar he never knew existed, and it felt like a different world. What else did the city have for him?

“Okay, so today we are gonna go shopping, and I have made us both an appointment to go get our readings done.”
“Readings?”
“You know, tarot? Your cards.”
John had never had a reading done, and the only thing he had to go buy was Ouija boards and associations with devil worship that Dad had really gone hard on when he was younger. “I’ve never done it before. Do I need anything?”
Mary smiled, “Don’t worry; she’s amazing, and it’s only $20.”

John decided he wouldn’t tell his parents about this. They would have no way of knowing what happened today. It’s not like he’s come home with a big stamp on his forehead saying, “I just had my cards read. DEVIL WORSHIP!”

After solidly catching up and finishing their drinks, the two friends made their way through the laneways, away from any of the main or little streets before entering the Royal Arcade. The Spellbox looked as if it belonged in the arcade. The Royal Arcade was an old place that had a magical, mysterious feeling with intricately tiled floors, details on the walls, and a mosaic glass roof with the two ogres at the clock watching over passers-by. The shop was stuffy and had a mixture of woody and sweet smells wafting through. It wasn’t too busy, and the lady at the counter smiled at Mary as they made eye contact. “Hello, my darling. I see you’ve brought a friend with you today.”
“This is John; I want him to have a reading with Serena.” The lady had dark curly hair and an old, kind face.
Her gaze turned to John, and she looked at him for a moment, “Ah, yes. Of course…” She smiled faintly. The lady with the old, kind face disappeared upstairs for a moment before returning, “John, please go upstairs where Serena is expecting you.” John thanked the lady and ascended slowly. The wooden steps creaked and groaned, and John took notice of each sound and how they were each different in their own way. A symphony of aging steps.

As John arrived at the top, a woman waited. “John, please come with me.” She turned around and walked through a door waiting for him. John walked through into the small room. “Please take a seat.” John did as he was told. “I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time.” John was confused; what did she mean by this? He went to ask when she cut him off, “Now, I don’t want you to say anything, place your hand on the deck and ask your question silently.” John did as he was told. He placed his hand on the deck in front of him and closed his eyes.

What is going to happen to me? John asked in his mind.

He opened his eyes and took his hand off the deck. Serena looked at him, “Hmm, what is going to happen to you? Very deep question.”
John’s eyes widened. How did she know what he asked?

Serena shuffled the cards; she cut and she placed the cards on the table between them. She looked down at them and then looked up at John.

It was difficult to tell how old Serena was. Her mousy brown hair was tied loosely in a ponytail, her face showed no signs of significant aging, but John did not feel that she was particularly young. There was something old about her, but he could not quite put his finger on it.

“John, I’m going to tell you what your cards are, and then if you have any questions, you can ask me anything you like.” John nodded. Serena’s eyes closed, and one hand hovered over the cards on the table while the other rested in front of her chest. “What the cards tell me very strongly – and I have rarely seen such certainty – is that you will disappear. In a short time, you will no longer exist in this city. You will be somewhere else.” The words and their meaning made their way into John’s head, but he couldn’t quite process what was being said. He went to open his mouth, and Serena gestured for him to wait, “This does not mean you are going to die. It could, but it rarely does.”
Well, that was that question answered. “You can also see, can’t you? It comes from your Mother’s side, and I believe your maternal grandfather received it from a woman he knew. It’s very old, but it’s incomplete; she didn’t pass on everything to him, did she?” John knew he had some kind of extra sense, but because he could never talk about it openly, he didn’t know much about it or where it came from. “You can talk to your Mother about it. Just pick the right time; she wants to share with you more than you know.”
John just sat there, waves of feelings washing over him. He was frightened, and he was excited – imminent death and rebirth awaited him, but in what form?
“Your mother and you have a tense relationship right now, but know that she loves you very much. She’s trying her best.” Serena opened her eyes and let out a deep breath. “Any questions?” John felt like he had questions, but none he felt that she could answer for him. He knew deep down that the answers to the questions he had would reveal themselves over time. “I don’t think I have anything right now.” John felt thirsty all of a sudden and noticed a glass of water next to him; he took a sip. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, John. Good luck.” They both got up and left the room, Serena accompanied him down the stairs where he paid and saw Mary waiting outside. “Babe, how did you go?” “Umm, wow, that was nuts!” was all he could manage. “Yeah, you were in there for about an hour; she usually only does 30-minute readings.” “What?!” John pulled out his phone. It had been an hour.

As they continued shopping that day, John told Mary about what Serena had said, and Mary was gobsmacked. “You gotta ask your Mum about that magic in your family!” “Yeah, I think I have to.” “But what about the disappearing thing? That’s crazy!” “Yeah… where am I going?” The two looked at one another and made some wild guesses.

As John went home in the early evening for dinner with a new t-shirt, he couldn’t help but wonder where he would be going. How would he just disappear?

The tram rumbled along the tracks of the city streets and into the quieter suburbs. The orange-red sun sunk into the horizon, bringing with it a pink and purple sky and later the dark night alive with the sounds of the unseen. John leaned his head on the window and felt himself drifting off with the slow rocking of the tram.

Following the final exam and the first strides of life without being bound by an institution like school, John found himself lost for the first few days. University would start in March, and even though he had not received his ENTER score yet, he already visualized himself at the University of Melbourne. Since Year 10, he decided purely based on the beauty and mystery of campus, that was where he would go. He never actually told anyone this though because of how absurd it seemed.

John had lost count of the times he wondered around the campus and imagined what his student life would be like there. From South Lawn, the Old Arts Building and the dark and otherworldly carpark where a scene in Mad Max had apparently been filmed – there was so much to love about the place. He was itching to be there as a student and not just a visitor.
He had even tagged along with his brother Theo, who would invite him along on curriculum days to sit in lectures with him and his friends. When Theo had tutorials, he would sneak John into the Union House library, which had an amazing manga collection. Not only that, but all the clubs and societies had their headquarters there – Theo had encouraged John to go and talk to the Queer Community, but John never had the courage to go in and just announce himself as gay. He was scared he would be told this wasn’t where he belonged.
Theo was John’s biggest ally in the family since John had come out earlier in the year.

His parents had not taken it well at first. John’s parents were second generation migrants who both had imprinted on them some belief systems that were from another time that was becoming less and less relevant.
While John was luckier than most in that his parents had not become violent or threatened to kick him out of the house, it was the shakes of the head, the clicks of the tongue that hurt the most – the constant disapproval and disappointment that lurked just below the surface.
This was followed by offhanded comments around shame and perception from those outside the family.

John recalled a time when he was going for a walk, and his mother had asked whether he was going to try and meet up with a guy. His reaction was to laugh and deny that was the case. John couldn’t shake the feeling he was being dishonest as he took those solitary walks or any other solo activity for that matter.
After a time, he realised it didn’t matter whether he lied or told the truth and so he occasionally found himself telling lies to his parents just to see what the reaction would be.
John kept the increasingly turbulent relationship with his parents to himself until one day he relented in front of his older brother. John couldn’t quite remember what happened, but he found himself sobbing and vomiting out the story of what had been happening and how no one in the family would love him if they found out he was gay. But, to John’s surprise – Theo leapt to his defence, disgusted at what their parents had said.

After many arguments with Theo on the frontline, his parents retreated, and seemed to be slowly changing their tune, and John found himself spending more time with Theo and his friends in preparation for a post-high school world.

John had little to no experience in dating, apart from a brief experience during Year 11 summer school cram courses when he met students from other schools, and an out and proud guy by the name of Benny had sat right next to him. They went on a few dates and kissed, but Benny soon declared he was not interested in dating John and disappeared from John’s life as soon as he had glided in. While John would have liked to have had more experience, until Year 10, he was not what one would have called physically appealing and coupled with crippling shyness made him a ripe target for bullying.  
Fortunately, from Year 10, John found himself changing. A growth spurt and leaving the ugly duckling phase meant that his fellow classmates suddenly noticed him and wanted to talk to him instead of bullying him. What this transformation did not include was self-confidence, and there was a part of John that was petrified it was all some kind of joke.

With nearly five months until university started, John did not have the slightest idea of what he would do with himself.
Would it be holidaying the whole time?
Perhaps he would pick up shifts again at the local supermarket he had been working at since he was sixteen.
John wasn’t sure.

The only thing he was sure of was that he wanted to get out of the house more. He found that during the days it was him and Mum which at first he didn’t mind but then realized he was getting pulled into her routines. This is not where John wanted to be.
John wanted to do things he had yet to do. He wanted to go out drinking and make full use of his newfound freedoms as an eighteen-year-old.
He could even go out clubbing if he wanted to, though he wouldn’t know where to begin. But he did know someone who did.

John had a friend named ‘Dra who was an international student living in the CBD. John first started talking to him on a gay chat website before meeting him a few times while he was with some other friends. The group welcomed John in with open arms.  Whenever he hung out with his twenty-something student friends, they would talk and laugh about their wild nights out, dramas, and waking up with a cigarette and meeting friends for brunch before dragging themselves off to class. They went off back home overseas for the holidays before coming back with more stories and adventures they would recount to John. They adored John and always gave him advice and courage to be more confident. The progress was slow for John, but it was still progress.

The lifestyle the group had, or what John perceived of it was the lifestyle he wanted for himself. It would take a lot of work for someone who had never gone overseas let alone only just finished high school.
His dream of visiting Japan seemed almost impossible, as the savings he had could only cover either spending or hotels, the plane ticket was another story all together.

                                                                                      –                                         

It was a Monday, and John found himself sitting on the couch thinking about how the week would pass when he decided to message ‘Dra and tell him he had finished high school. By doing this, he was hoping to signal to ‘Dra that he was able and ready to join them for a wild night out.
The reply was almost instant, “Congratulations! Let’s go out this week and celebrate.”
John’s heart leapt. He could go. He could actually go. An ecstatic, “Yes!” was sent. ‘Dra responded with the details.
They would be going to QnA from 10:30 and have pre-drinks from 8:00.
Bring a drink, mugs would be provided. John wasn’t sure what the mugs had to do with, but he was excited.
All he had to do now was find the right time to tell Mum and Dad. Since Mum was home, he was going to start with her. He had to make sure she was in the right mood. Wait…but did he though? He’d finished school and he was one of the only people he knew who wasn’t going on Schoolies week on the Gold Coast.
He knew how he would spin this – this was his time to go out and celebrate and that was that. John felt a fire of confidence stoked within him.
“Mum…” John called out. He heard nothing and went to find her. John walked into the bedroom and found her sitting at the window seat in the bedroom doing ironing, “Mum…” She looked up, Mmmhmm?
Her face was drawn, and she looked exhausted. He knew it wasn’t the right time but he continued anyway, “My friend asked me to go out with them on Thursday night.” There was a pause, a puff of steam from the iron, and a readjustment of the shirt she was ironing. “Who is your friend? Where are you going?”
“You know ‘Dra, my friend in the city – they want to take me to a club to celebrate finishing school…”
“A club? On a Thursday night?” She looked positively annoyed at the very suggestion. “Your father has work the next day, and I’m probably not going to sleep. Do you think that’s fair on us?”
It was always like this. It always came down to how John wanting to do something would affect someone in the family. This often made John want to argue more. “Well, I’m not going on Schoolies, and I want to celebrate with my friends. I’ll be quiet coming back.”
“So what time will you come back? And what is this club? Is it one of those places?”
“I don’t know, but we’re going out at 10:30…”
“10:30? Jesus Christ!” Her lips pursed and she tugged the shirt sleeve violently before attempting to get one more stubborn crease out.
John just stood there waiting for a response.
“I can’t think about this now; I’ll talk to your father about it later.”
John walked out of the room and his Mum may have said something to him as he left the room, but John had stopped listening. Back in his room, John rolled around restlessly with an all too familiar itching feeling growing in his chest, pushing his face into his pillow until he saw red blotches in the darkness. It was hard to breathe. He didn’t know what the feeling was but he had felt it for most of his life whenever he got stressed or nervous, especially since he started high school.
Screaming into his pillow until there was no more air left in his lungs, John pulled his face away from the pillow and stared unfocused looking towards his bookshelf.
After a time, he drifted off.

                                                                                      –

Later that night at dinner, Theo was talking about one of his tutorials with Mum and Dad listening intently. John decided to bring the club up again to see if he could get Theo on his side.
“Dad, my friends asked me to come out with them to a club this week to celebrate me finishing high school and stuff.” His Dad looked toward John, “Gonna go have a few beers at the pub?”
Before John could answer, his Mum had cut in on his behalf, “Oh no, it’s a club with those uni students he hangs out with. They’re going out at 11:00 or something on a Thursday.”
His Dad laughed, “Gee, that’s pretty late. Is that how they do it these days?” Theo jumped in, “It’s a fairly normal time to go out, remember when I used to go to Goo? It was always around that time.” His Dad nodded in agreement, but Mum was not convinced, “Did he mention to you it’s a gay club?”
The room fell silent, and Dad cleared his throat uncomfortably, “Honestly…can’t you just go somewhere normal?”
John stared back his father who until he had asked this question seemed to be on board. He was getting ready for an argument. “It’s different now. You guys don’t even know gay people, so how would you even know what’s going on?”
“I’ve worked with gay people before! The world hasn’t changed as much as you think.” Dad said defensively. With the large blocks of silence in between conversation, the sound of everyone eating their dinner in silence was especially obvious.
John could see Theo was eyeing off their parents and getting ready to say something. It took a lot for his brother to get angry or upset – and this wasn’t a bad thing. Theo was always dependable and considered everything quite carefully. So when he did pipe up, people tended to listen.
“Sorry guys, but you don’t know. There’s a gay guy in my uni group, and we went out gay clubbing with him a few times; it was fine.” Theo said in the most nonchalant tone.  
Mum’s eyes opened wide like they were about to pop. John couldn’t help but smile. Dad asked, “So you’re telling me you went to a gay club? But you’re not gay!” It was difficult to tell whether Dad was shocked or amused. “You didn’t tell us this!” Mum was shaking her head.
Then the killer blow, “You never ask where I go, so why do you drill John so much? There shouldn’t be a problem. I was out for weeks with friends when I finished school, and neither of you so much as asked a question about where I was going, hm?”
Silence. Mum and Dad were well and truly down for the count.
Suddenly Mum flashed a cheeky smile, “So…when you went, did any of the fellas try to hit on you?”
“Ha…yeah, one or two tried to buy me drinks, but I told them I was straight and we just talked anyway.”
Dad erupted into laughter, “Look at that! A gay guy trying to buy Theo a drink!” John wasn’t sure what had just happened, but the atmosphere went from a murder scene to a light-hearted talk show in a matter of minutes.
Mum turned to John and tried to conceal her smile with pursed lips, “Well, I suppose if Theo says it’s okay, then you can go, but please be careful. I’ll drop you off in the city, but you have to promise me you’ll catch a cab home!”
“Thanks, Mum.” John could barely conceal his smile.  

The conversation soon moved, and John felt a strange sense of calm. He felt the calmest he had in a long time since he finished school. His relationship with his parents had generally been fine, but they tended to argue a lot more since he came out. Mum especially seemed to say hurtful things, but there was a part of John that wondered whether she actually meant those words she threw out as if by some involuntary reaction or whether she was confused and trying to understand. Mum had been denied a lot in her life until she met Dad, and it was easy to forget that under her well-presented, confident exterior there was a deeply loving woman who had been hurt many times in her life and was doing the best she knew how.
John often either found himself having a blast with his Mum or not wanting to be near her in the slightest. He hoped one day that the latter feeling would disappear completely.

                                                                                      –

That night John lay in bed thinking about what was ahead. All he knew for now was that on Thursday he would be able to experience a club for the first time. He would dance and drink and maybe even meet someone. The room was dark except for the moonlight streaming through the gaps between the blinds and the edge of the windows. Crickets chirped unseen, and a dog was barking sporadically somewhere. It was the peace of a summer evening, the resolution of an argument, and the excitement of what was to come that sent John into a deep sleep. John slowly entered a dream from which when he awoke he would soon forget.

Unbeknownst to John, the invisible red strings of fate that were tied to his soul were dramatically adjusting and starting to pull him in a direction he could not even begin to comprehend. Mum and Dad’s strings shuddered slightly in the winds of an unseen layer of the world. Theo’s moved slightly too, but none shifted as much as John’s.
The entire family was sound asleep at this point. Two people in the household knew that in less than a week, John would no longer be in the house. In fact, his life would look very different for the next little while.

“Pens down, time is up. The English exam is now over,” Ms. Pomelo said, projecting her voice that had not been used for the past three hours. “Pens down, thank you!”

John’s hand jolted open as if some uncontrolled reaction in response to his teacher’s voice, the blue pen clunking onto the word-filled page before him. He looked down at his hand, throbbing and red from the furious, non-stop writing pressure of three hours. He felt numb.

It wasn’t just that John had completed his English exam; he had finished his last exam, marking the end of his VCE. Once he walked out of the gates, he would never return to this school. He looked around the room as his fellow students slowly stirred, rose from their chairs, and exchanged glances to confirm what they were or weren’t feeling. Awkwardly pushing the cheap plastic chair across the library’s carpet, John rose to his feet, collected his belongings, and headed for the exit.

On his way out, he met Ms. Pomelo’s eyes. “John, how do you feel?”

“No surprises.”

“Don’t be too confident; it means you probably missed something.” Her eyes bore into his. John could never decide whether he really liked Ms. Pomelo. She never gave him the upfront kindness he was used to from teachers; it was as if she didn’t want him to rest, and so she would always give a pointy response.

It was a crush getting through the exit of the library as the other students bemoaned their effort, yelled out in relief, or something in between. John couldn’t see any faces he wanted to share the moment with and made his way straight for the gate.

As the gates drew nearer, John recollected how frequently he had dreamt of this day. The last steps seemed an uneventful eternity. There was no ticket parade, the path out was not lined with everyone he ever knew and met in his life clapping and congratulating him. It was just like any other day, slightly overcast and slightly on the cooler side – except for the fact he had just finished his last day of high school.

Nothing happened as John took the first steps out of the school grounds, and of course, nothing was going to happen. His brain knew that, but his mind was alive and liked to imagine that big moments or events like this would create waves of energy with every step, movement, and gesture that made the world around him bloom into some surreal scene from a movie that gave him goosebumps. Whenever John’s expectations failed to align with reality, he withdrew into himself as he went about his day. He had flicked a switch in his mind, and he was only present for the most basic of functions: walking, breathing, not running into anyone, or getting hit by cars.

The exact route he had taken nearly every school day for the past five years turned into a stage playing out memories, both good and bad. From walking behind his older brother and his friends in silence in year 7 to being chased by bullies or having fruit thrown at him until year 10. Then walking with friends, big groups, or more intimate ones. Laughter, nerves, stress, happiness, grief, hurt, love, solace, and whatever dramatic turmoil he felt throughout the years.

John re-felt the emotions as he saw himself walking before him in different forms over the years. He flinched as a bus rushed past him on the main road before the last leg of his journey. It was enough to bring him back into reality, and the colorful images before him retreated into whatever dark spaces they could slip into.

Before getting on the tram, John decided to get one of the homemade dim sims from Royal Chopsticks, a suburban Chinese takeaway store in the local shopping centre near the tram stop. They had the usual lemon chicken, sweet and sour pork kind of offerings, but just to cover their bases, they also did sushi. And when they said sushi, it was the teriyaki chicken hand roll kind of sushi. By far, though, their homemade dim sims were otherworldly. The balance of flavours and the odd, surprising crunch of a water chestnut or the fleshiness of a mushroom piece amidst the soft, juicy meat filling were often too much to resist. John had been eating one of these after school since he and some of the other kids who hung out the front of the shopping waiting for the buses home had discovered them one day in year 9.

The lady at the store had been there every day since he started going. She always smiled and sometimes asked him about school. It had even gotten to the point where all they did was glance at each other, and it was understood a dim-sim was needed. Today she smiled and passed him over the dim-sim. John said thank you and splashed a bit of chili sauce into the bag before turning around.

“Good luck,” he heard her say behind him. John turned around, looking at her puzzled for a moment. The lady smiled at him with her kind eyes. There was the slightest trace of sadness in her face.

“Thanks for everything. I’ll be back.” He didn’t know what to say.

“It’s okay. Good luck.” And the lady went back to wiping the bench in front of her.

John wondered what exactly the Royal Chopsticks lady meant. Did she know it was his last day? He was in his uniform like any other day. John wasn’t even sure why he was so taken aback. He savored the dim-sim because it might very well have been his last. John did not see himself making this journey again in the same way, though he wasn’t exactly sure why it felt like such an impossibility. The dim-sim would never be a dim-sim he had been looking forward to after a tough day at school. It wasn’t a dim-sim he had to scrape together the last 20 cents to afford. It wouldn’t be the dim-sim that carried him over until dinner time. After this, it would just be a dim-sim from Royal Chopsticks.

When John reached home after the short tram ride, he unlocked the security door first and then the heavier wooden door. Again, such a mundane action he had done countless times before seemed odd at this time of day in his current state of mind. He expected the scent of dinner wafting from the kitchen, but was met only with the faint aroma of a nondescript floral room fragrance Mum had placed in the living room.

A distant voice came from his parents’ room to the right, “How did you go, John?”

Mum was in the bathroom; he could tell by the distance of her voice as well as the slight echo bouncing on the tiles. There was the hiss of hairspray, twice, and then a shorter spray for good measure. She was getting ready to go out somewhere.

“I think I went well; I managed to finish everything and read over my essays.” John started walking towards the kitchen. As good as those dim sims were, they always left him thirsty.

John was filling up his second glass of water when he heard his Mum entering the kitchen. Tuk-tuk-tuk, her shoes clicked on the wooden floor.

“Come on, give me a kiss.” She was standing at the other end of the kitchen with her hands on her hips. John put down the water and gave her a kiss and a hug.

“You did such a good job this year, and it will all pay off for you.”

“I hope so…” John’s eyes glazed over as the two embraced. The kitchen table and family photos on the wall were blurry and misty as he let himself lose focus. Mum pulled out of the embrace and got right into business, “I’m heading to Highpoint to pick up a few things, did you want to come?”

“Nah, I think I’ll stay here and get rid of my old books and clean up my room; there’s so much mess from all the study.” John wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but he had an urge to get rid of things.

“Hmm, are you sure we can’t sell any of them? Your father and I paid good money for those books, they weren’t cheap.”

“No…they’re not the kinds of books you can resell. Plus, they’re changing the curriculum next year, so none of my texts will be relevant next year.”

“Bloody crooks,” she reached into her bag and fiddled around before pulling out the car keys, “Okay, well, I’m going – I’ll take my mobile with me, so give me a call if you need anything.”

John nodded as he walked towards his bedroom and closed the door. The room was in disarray. The shelves of his desk were filled with practice exams scrawled with notes; books lay piled – some had fallen over and crashed onto other piles. The mess of writing and tables on the whiteboard that he followed like some holy scripture was suddenly irrelevant as he no longer had to follow a strict study routine that he’d been so devoted to over the past year.

Away from the bomb site that was his desk were his posters of Kindaichi Case Files, a murder mystery manga John had been reading since Year 9 or 10. A Matrix poster was on the wall to the left of the window. John’s bookcase that he managed to keep free from school and study was lined with DVDs, photos of friends and a mixture of fiction books that he had read countless times. A delicate and beautifully decorated fan he received from his Dad’s coworker before he went back to Japan caught his attention.

John had a bumpy relationship with Japan. When he started studying the language, he was horrible at it to begin with and hated it with a passion because he nearly failed the subject so many times. Despite this, he hoped one day he would improve and be able to speak fluently. No matter how much he tried and studied, he couldn’t seem to grasp the complexity of the language.
Then, literally overnight, something within John changed. He’d been pouring over his textbook one evening in the thick of year 10 and climbed into bed exhausted from the day that had passed and stressed for his listening comprehension test the next day.
He closed his eyes, and he found himself in an unfamiliar world. John was walking through a forest or a park of some kind when he noticed someone walking by his side. The voice sounded familiar. He knew the person was male and of a similar age. But when John tried to turn his head to look at who he was speaking to, he simply couldn’t. He was a passive observer with no control in this dream.

“It’s up those stairs,” the voice said. John could only just make out an outstretched arm pointing ahead.

“Great!” John heard himself reply.  

“Hold on, I need a drink – there’s a vending machine over there. Do you want anything?”

“Just something hot, it’s so cold today.”

“You’re always cold! It must always be hot in Australia!” The voice laughed like he was mocking. John said nothing but found himself smiling.
 
It was at that moment that John noticed that the conversation wasn’t occurring in English. The conversation was in Japanese. He could understand everything. John, the passenger, sat within John the driver in awe of what he had just realized. He looked around at the bright sun shining through the red and yellow leaves around him. The ground was similarly covered with leaves like carpet that stretched around him. The stairs in front of him ascended into the light, and John couldn’t make out what was at the top. A hand squeezed John’s shoulder, and his heart skipped a beat.

“Come on, let’s go.” They walked up the stairs, and as they climbed higher, the light became brighter. “I’ll race you!” The voice yelled.
And that’s when he woke up.

That day, John got ready and went to school like he always did, and then when he sat the listening comprehension test, he was able to comprehend everything he heard. He’d gone from barely passing his tests to nearly full marks. At first, Takeguchi Sensei was suspicious and kept John behind to discuss his result. “John-san…how did this happen?”

“I don’t know…I suddenly understand…now…I didn’t copy anyone.”

“Hmm, I know you don’t cheat; you would have started long ago. But your Japanese skill is not this good. I’m just shocked,” Takeguchi had his arms crossed and an overly exaggerated thinking expression on his face, “You must have studied really hard. Good work, John-san! I want to see this more and more.”

And just like that, something had started to awaken within John. Though, almost as odd as the sudden improvement in his language ability was the dream.
It felt like the premonitions he would sometimes have except this was the first one that he couldn’t pin the place or person he was with. All of his premonitions involved people he knew or places he had been. John had never been to the place in the dream, so for all he knew, it was just a dream.
But it just felt so real. He felt like he knew the person next to him. He felt a sadness whenever he replayed the dream in his mind because it felt like someone close to him. In that dream perhaps, but not in this reality. When he was younger, his parents played down John’s premonitions or ability to see things that other people couldn’t see, especially his Dad. Though one day, his Mum pulled him aside and told him she had a similar ability, and so did her dad. She said that John shouldn’t mention it in front of his father because it made him deeply upset. John asked what the reason was so many times, but she never told him why.

John blinked and found himself back in his messy room. He had no idea how much time had passed since he drifted off into thought, standing in the middle of the room, school bag dropped at his side. He opened the window to let fresh air in and got to work clearing out what he no longer needed.