*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.
Urban Solitude 