I was traversing through the narrow alleys of Shinjuku Golden Street, enjoying the neon lights. The night was still young as the street was still bustling with young people from various walks of life. Just I turned into the lane that would lead me back to my new house that was few lanes down the road, one of the bar back door opened with a loud bang against the wall. Where I was standing, I could see the bar was chaotic and chairs and glasses were thrown everywhere on the floor and people were shouting. I stood there frozen, wondering why did I decide to take the dark alley short route to my house. As I was still on my own thoughts, two young men came through the door. One of them was hanging on to his buddy for support and had his the other hand on his stomach and he was struggling to stand.

As the other young man met my eyes, he quickly dragged his friend towards my direction and thrust his buddy into my arms and mumbled something very fast in the Japanese language, a language, which was my mother’s and I knew little about it. I was shocked and looked at him wide eyes, while supporting his friend in a very awkward position. He repeated his words again to me and gave me shove and I heard the English word, “GO, please” and he quickly ran back into the bar and closing the door behind him. I looked at the “luggage” in my hand, wondering what was I to do when I heard the young man speaking in Japanese, and I caught the word “byoinin”. Oh my god. He was hurt and I looked down to where he had his hand on his abdominal. He was bleeding.

Oh! How I hate the sight of blood and it’s stench. I quickly asked him if he is able to talk in English and the response I got was “taxi…. fast…hospital”. I nodded my head and asked him in a concerned voice if he was able to walk?  Getting no response from him, I tried to shake him but realised that he has fainted on me. I quickly supported him and dragged him back to the main street and managed to hail a cab with the help from a stranger. Putting him in the back seat, I told the taxi driver in broken Japanese and English to bring me to a hospital emergency room. Thanks God the driver asked no further question and brought me to the hospital.

I was lost as everything was foreign to me the country, the land, the food and the people. Everything. When I arrived at the hospital, I paid the driver whatever I had in my wallet. He took what he needed and handed me the rest with my wallet. Thanking him Japanese, I tried to wake and drag my unwelcome guest but in vain. Looking around helplessly and seeing me in distress, the driver of the cab came over to take my load and helped me to carry him into the emergency room and spoke in hurried Japanese to the emergency nurses. Everything went too fast for me. The next thing I knew was my unwelcome guest was on the hospital bed and doctors and nurses came running to attend to him.

I was still looking at them with a bewildered look on my face, when one of the nurses pointed her finger to me. It was than that I realised that the taxi driver has left and I was left alone with this unknown stranger. Giving the nurses and doctors a strange look, I asked them in incorrect Japanese “Eigo wa wakarimasu ka? Watashiwa Nihongo wa sukoshi desu?” One of the young doctors came towards and claimed to speak and understand a little English and asked me what had happened? I related to the young doctor how this stranger was pushed into my arms by another young man and from what I could comprehend was that the young man there (pointing to the stranger on the hospital bed) needed help badly.

While I was talking to the doctor, he was taking notes at the same time. After relating this awful incident, I asked if I could go now? Seeing his surprised look, alarm bells start ringing in my bell. He patted my shoulder and he said, “No. Sorry ne. You have to stay ne. It’s a stab wound and police case. Anatawa…have to wait until the police come”. Grabbing his hands, I told him in English, “I have to go. I don’t know him at all”. Shaking his head gently the doctor said in simple English, “He is a very popular actor and you have to wait.” I hated hospitals and I wanted to cry in front of the doctor. Running my hand through my hair, I realised it was all covered with dried blood and my beautiful beige colour jacket was ruined, with a big patch of the stranger’s blood just below the jacket york. Shaking my head, I turned and started walking hurriedly towards the exit door, while the doctor ran after me with the words echoing behind me, “Sumimasen, sumimasen and some other Japanese words. The next I knew the hospital security guys were there, blocking the exist. Giving a loud frustration cry, I turned and look at the doctor. “Sorry, you follow me” he said and lead me to a quiet personal sitting lounge in the emergency room and locked the glass door behind him.

I do not know how long I sat in that miserable lounge, cursing and swearing at my stupidity in trying to help a total stranger and getting into unnecessary trouble with the law. While trying to straighten my scattered thoughts, the doctor’s words came back to my mind and I started laughing. What has “he is a popular actor and my staying here has got to do with the situation I am in right now?” I shook my head. I am here in Japan not for adventure. Time was a ticking bomb for me. I have landed in Tokyo three days ago, with lots of my own worries and things to settle before God knows what’s going to happen to my health too. I walked to and fro in the small room, first worrying about myself and then worrying about the “popular actor” in the emergency room. I was getting frustrated and tried to calm myself down with deep breathing exercises.

Just as I was about to sit on the couch, the glass door opened. Two police officers walked in, followed by the young doctor and a young man I recognised from the bar. Facing the younger man from the bar scene, I stood up and started lecturing and scolding in him English, telling him to tell them that I have nothing to do with you guys and to let me leave the hospital premises in peace and also to reimburse the taxi fare from the Shinjuku Bar to the hospital and for my soiled jacket. All these were said in one breath. After I finished speaking, I realised that there was pin drop silence for all the four gentlemen were looking at me as if I was “The Alien”, speaking in the alien language. I stood there, looking at them too, flabbergasted at my actions. I know myself. I am never this frustrated and had always tried to maintain a clear head all the time. I cleared my throat nervously and gave a cough and averted my face to face the wall.

It was the young doctor who broke the awkward silent. He told me the patient had a successful operation to stitch his abdominal wound and was in a stable condition. I nodded my head and turned to look at the two police officers. Seeing the puzzle look on my face, the doctor told me he had related what I had told him earlier to the police officers, which was further validated by the patient’s manager. He then pointed to the young man from the bar. I nodded my head again and asked if “it was okay for me to leave the hospital now in one peace?” The doctor, whose name was Nagai (read his name tag) smiled at me and turned to talk to the other three gentlemen in the room. I understand nothing at all about what he was trying to convey to the three gentlemen. While the four of them were still in conversation, one of the officers passed me a file with a document, written in the Japanese language. I looked at Dr. Nagai and he told me it was my statement and I needed to sign it.

I quickly grabbed his pen to sign the document, eager to leave this miserable place. As I finished signing, I picked up my handbag from the couch and without saying any word, I started walking out the glass door towards the hospital exist. Just as I was about to step out of the hospital exist, I heard running footsteps behind me. “Not again”, I told myself. “What does these people want from me now?” Sighing, I refused to look back, hurrying my footsteps. Just then, someone grabbed hold my hand tightly, which caused me to wince in pain and to stop. “Gomen’nasai, gomen’nasai”, the voice said and let go of my arm. Rubbing my arm, I turned and saw the young man from the bar. Looking at me so worriedly, he said, “Satoshi, my name Satoshi. Watashi wa Kato san manager desu.” I nodded my head, which was a new habit I learned in Japan and said “Hai and Sayonara” and started walking to hail a cab. “Chotto matte kudasai, chotto matte kudasai”, he sounded desperate and I turned to look at him once more.

He looked so worried and spoke slowly to me in English, word by word. “Please come. See Kato san.” As I mouthed the word “No”, he was about to kneel in front of me. I quickly grabbed his shoulder and shake my head and gesture with my left hand to lead the way. He let go a sigh of relieve and started walking beside me, back to the hospital. Deep in my thoughts, I was wondering why this young manager was so worried about and how bad temper was this “popular actor, Kato san”. As I passed by the nursing station, I was shocked to see the time. It was three in the morning and I needed the rest badly before giving myself another shot of painkiller to last me through the day. Well, I guessed I got my mom’s cultural habit of being polite and accommodating to others at the expense of one’s own discomfort.

This “Kato san” was in the private suite room, meant for the rich and famous people. We stopped in front of room 2007 and Satoshi san slide the room door slowly and waited for me to enter in first. I really hated the feeling of the hospital wards and rooms but I had no heart to deny the request of Satoshi san. I walked pass Satoshi san and he followed me suit into room and gently slide the door behind him. I looked miserably in the room, with nostalgic feelings. It reminded me of mom’s stay in the hospital and my treatment in the radiation ward. Satoshi san slowly tapped my right shoulder and gesture me to another room. It was the lounge suite with a two big couches, a coffee table, a refrigerator and a big smart TV mounted on the wall. There was another door and that’s when Satoshi san told me, “Kato san’s room.”

I sat quietly on one of the couch, nearer to the toilet, which I knew I would needing it soon to give myself my strong analgesic and medication. Mistaking my worried look on my face, Satoshi san said, “Kato san wa daijoubu des ne”, pointing to the room where Kato san was in. I said nothing and let my head roll back and lean further into the couch. It was really a long day for me. I needed to conserve my energy for today and tomorrow. My mom’s family had refused to see me when I called them from America, informing them about her death. I yet have to call and see them personally. I have got lots of things to accomplish within my means. This event was all so overwhelming and tiring for me. Still dwelling in my own thoughts, Satoshi san made a cup of hot green tea for me and put on the coffee table and said, “Drink, okay?”

I needed sleep and not hot drink. Shutting my eyes, I covered my face in my shoulders and the next thing I knew, I was in slumber land. A sharp pain travelling down my back woke me up. I quickly shoot up from the couch, grabbed my bag and made my way to the toilet. Once in the toilet, I quickly prepared my injection, clean my inner elbow with the alcohol swab and injected myself before my pain could get any worse. I sat on the toilet seat, waiting for my medication to take effect, before popping my other medications into my mouth. I gently stood up and walked over to the basin to wash my face. There was a gentle knock on the door and I slowly opened to peep out. It was Satoshi san. “Daijoubou desu ka?” I nodded my head and slammed the door on his face. Immediately I felt so guilty and sorry for him but I was in dire situation and my needs to take care of myself come first.

Taking control of my situation and emotions, I opened the toilet door. I apologised to Satoshi san and told him slowly in English, “I need to go home. I see Kato san now, okay?” He agreed with me and pushed opened the other door. I walked in, followed by Satoshi san. Kato san was still sleeping and he looked so serene and void of worries. How I wish that I was free of worries too and the world was not a cruel place to live in. As I turn to leave the room, a very suave voice called for Satoshi. Satoshi san quickly turned towards the voice. It was “the popular actor”. He was trying to sit up in the bed. Satoshi quickly went over to help Kato san to sit up and started speaking in rapid Japanese. I stood near the door, trying to catch Satoshi san attention but too bad, the guy went on and on in Japanese language.

I took this opportunity to quietly slip out of the room and ran all the way down. I needed my sleep and rest badly; I needed breakfast before I could pop all my other medications into my mouth. I quickly hail a taxi and gave my address of my new place. The morning sun was up and it was a beautiful day but I was too tired to enjoy the beautiful summer day. When the taxi drove up the driveway, I paid him the fare and got out of the taxi. It was then I realised that I have left my blood stained beige jacket on the couch. Sleep was overpowering me and time was crucial. I quickly open my door, said hello to Mom and went to the kitchen to make a quick breakfast and a cup of coffee for myself. I tried so hard to stay awake to finish my breakfast and coffee and finally popped in my other medications. Feeling sluggish and nearly dead with fatigue, I crawled into my bed and the next thing I knew, I was in slumber land again.

When I next opened m eyes, it was already four in the afternoon. I slowly got up the bed and made my way to the shower room. As I was feeling very tired and restless, I decided to stay home for it was too late to enjoy the streets now. I decided to call my uncle and his niece, Saya, my best friend. Uncle was also my oncologist in America and Saya’s uncle. It was through uncle that I managed to purchase this house, using his Japanese identity and his family details in Japan. After making a few calls to America, I finally called Saya, informing her that I had landed safely in Japan and ended up talking to uncle. I thanked him for the house; telling him it was a beautiful cosy place and updated him on my current health conditions. He advised me to go slow with everything and not to exert myself. When he asked if I have managed to call my maternal side, I confided my fear to him. Uncle was the closest “relative” I have now in America, after he adopted mom as his sister and took her under his wings after mom’s divorce. He assured me to go slow but not to hesitate, be brave and have confidence in myself. He then gave me the address and contact number of his best friend, a professor in one of the big hospital in Japan.  He then told me to visit him if I needed any help regarding my conditions. He further informed me that he had forwarded my medical history to his friend.

After thanking uncle and Saya, I hanged up the phone and made a simple dinner for myself. Once finishing all household chores, I went to mom’s room, where I had kept mom’s ashes in an ebony black urn. I sat on the tatami floor and pulled out the scented wooden box from the corner. Leaning mom’s photo against the wall, I opened the lid of the wooden box with a heavy heart.

I looked at the shinny ebony black urn in my trembling hands. As requested by mom, I had covered the mouth of the urn with a red cloth, tied with a white ribbon around it. In fact I still could not come to term with mom’s death. I could not believe that the little black urn contained my mom’s ashes. How little she looked as ashes now. Tears started rolling down my cheeks. “I am alone now, Mom, I said. How could you just leave me like? Mom, your daughter too has limited time to live.” Mom was all the family I had as far as I remembered growing up. Since Mom married my dad, who was a foreigner, her family has never accepted her marriage. Because of this, mom had followed dad to America, where I was born. Mom was happy with dad until her divorced with dad when I was eleven years old.

She tried to get in touch with her family, telling them about me, their granddaughter but they had had refused to take any of her calls. Even many years later, when mom was sick, I tried calling my mother’s family, they refused to listen to me and warned me not to call them again for my mom was as good as dead to them. I dare not reveal this to mom knowing that it would break her heart further. While mom was still suffering from her ailment, I found out that I too was suffering from leukaemia, which was hereditary from dad’s side. I kept this a secret from mom and started treatment secretly under mom’s adoptive Japanese brother. Mom’s health slowly deteriorated and upon her death bed, has extracted a promise from me that I will bring her ashes back to Japan for it was her deepest wish to be buried in the land she was born in. I did all I could to appease mom on her death, telling her not to worry, as I will fulfil her wishes.

Wiping my tears, I remembered asking God to guide me and grant me the courage to bring Mom back to Japan for her final rites. As I have never been to Japan, I was a bit of apprehensive about being alone all by myself. I remembered calling uncle regarding my decision. With uncle’s help, all necessary preparations were made with his family here in Japan to purchase a house for me. He also made arrangements to ensure that I had enough of my medical supply while in Japan and called his professor friend in Japan. I recalled uncle driving me to the Los Angeles airport for my flight to Tokyo, Narita, still advising me not to go and to think about my health first. I reminded uncle that a promise is a promise and I would be back if I find my health deteriorating. Shutting my eyes and taking a few deep breaths, I gently put the urn gently back in a wooden box and quietly left the room.

Sitting at dining table, I took out my diary and started writing into it. It was a habit that I picked up from dad. I wrote down the incidents that had had taken placed; my walk around the Shinjuku Golden Gai, the so call little adventure and trip to the hospital, the kind taxi driver, lecturing a guy in a foreign land, seeing a medical private suite for the first time for the rich and famous and how tired and dead I was that I forgot my beige jacket in the private suite and running for my life to escape another seconds in the hospital. I smiled at myself while reminiscing and writing all these down into my diary. I made a note to remind myself to pick up my beige jacket from the hospital, to call my stubborn relatives in Japan and to continue to explore Japan if my health permits.

Taking my all injections and medications on time was a habit that I have cultivated to ensure I do not get relapses of my symptoms. I went to bed early, very adamant to visit my mother relatives the next day. I got up very early, had an early breakfast and follow the strict regimen of my medications. I prepared a simple “obento”, which contained my left over rice, covered with seaweed, black sesame and Japanese sour plums. Holding the wooden box very securely in my hand, I grabbed my bag, my address diary and my jacket. As I was locking my front door, my on called taxi drove in. I passed the address to the driver and told him incomplete Japanese, “Watashi wa koko ni ikitai”, pointing to the address in the diary. The drive was pretty long and was taking ages to reach. As for me, I was enjoying the beautiful scenery, trying not to think about the uncooperative relatives and their reaction.

After almost an hour or more, the taxi turned into a very traditional Japanese house. He stopped and told me, “Ima aruku”, that meant that I had to walk from here. I paid the fare and alighted. I was shaking now. The house looked very forbidden, something picturesque from the movie “The Last Samurai.” I was here and had to be brave for my mother. I walked on the pebbled pathway, towards the house. Standing in front of the house, I was wondering to knock or to press the bell, when the big wooden door opened with a loud squeak and an old gentleman in dark grey ‘yukata’ stepped out. Looking at me, he shouted in whatever loud Japanese words and continued talking in swift Japanese. He could wake up the whole village, I told myself. Even though I was shivering from inside, I stood steadfast, looking at him with a strange look my face, trying to be an idiot. With all the commotion going on, two gentlemen and an elderly woman came forward. I stood still, with the wooden box in both my hands and tried to give a weak smile. The old gentleman was looking at me with so much of hostility while the other residents of the house were looking at me with so much worry on their face.

Shifting the wooden box in one hand, supported against my chest, I took out the letter written by uncle and passed it to the average middle looking gentleman. He was hesitant at first but at my insistence of pushing the letter into his hand, he had no choice but took the letter from me. I took a few steps back, just as uncle has advised me to do and waited for the residents of the house to act. The elderly woman moved a step towards me but was halted by the loud bellow from the old gentleman. I felt like crying. These people were my mother’s family and after many years, they were still holding a big grudge against my poor mother for marrying outside her race. The old gentleman pulled the elderly woman away and pushed her into the house. Now I was faced with three men. The old man kept talking and talking. The average middle looking man kept looking at me, the wooden box and back to the letter. The last gentleman stood very silently, staring at me, with eyes filled with sorrow and I could glisters of tears in his eyes.

I stood there, God knows how long. After the three of them had a thorough look at me, the old man went in and came back with white substance in his hand. I immediately realised that he was going to throw salt over his shoulder to thwart the bad luck. I refused to cry in front of them. I quickly went on my knees and bow my head and pleaded to the other gentleman whose eyes were tearing. I told him in broken Japanese and English that they could reject me for I won’t mind but my mother deserved her rest place now after travelling the seven seas. Even though I was on my knees, the old man, threw the salt at my direction and pushed the two gentlemen into the house and shut the wooden door. My knees were aching for kneeling so long on the pathway. I had the wooden box in front of me. I was sobbing silently and apologising to mom on her family behalf.

I dare not stand up or drink even though I was so thirsty and my knees were numbed and aching. Not caring anymore for kneeling I turned to sit in a lotus position to ease the pain in my knees and my numbness. About almost two hours or so, the wooden door opened and the gentleman, who was crying earlier, came out. He quickly walked towards me and helped me to stand up, while picking up the wooden box from the floor for me. I looked at him surprised. He kept patting my shoulder without meeting my eyes and kept saying something under his breath in Japanese. I realised that he was crying and was embarrassed to meet my eyes. Almost about twenty minutes or so, he took the wooden box from my hands and led me to sit on the wooden garden deck in front of the house.

Taking my hands in his warm strong hands, he looked at me and said in perfect English, “I am your uncle. I am your mother’s twin, younger by two minutes. The moment I saw you, I saw Reiko in you, very daring and not afraid of anything or anyone. Your mother and me were very closed as we were growing up and we went against all odd to learn the English language. When Reiko married that American man, dad disowned her and had considered her as dead.” There was an awkward silence and he continued, “We don’t know you or your name?” I was quietly listening to what he was saying. A moment or so later, he asked, “What is your name?” I was shocked. Here was someone from my mother’s family who was finally willing to accept and talk to me. I told him my name was Rebecca Reiko Yamamoto O’shea and my friends either called me Rebecca Yamamoto or Reiko Yamamoto. I could see he was taken aback. “So, he said. “Reiko named you after her and had given you the Yamamoto family name.” I nodded my head.

A while later he said, “I can’t talk to you for long. I have been negotiating with your grandfather since the day you called us to inform that Reiko was so sick and may not live long. I argued with dad, that if Reiko ever appeared in front of us, I would accept Reiko even if she returned as a dead person.” What he said next kicked me hard in my stomach. “I would accept Reiko, my sister and bury her in my family burial ground but you have to leave. Maybe after the head of the Yamamoto family die, we may get in touch with you but as of now, I am very sorry you have to leave this place and do not come back until me or “Oji chan”, your elder uncle call you.” There were tears in my eyes and I realised that my cheeks were wet. Even though I promised myself not to cry in front of them or him, tears kept rolling down non-stopped. Even though my heart was bleeding and aching, I could hardly describe the sadness that overwhelmed my entire body. At that moment, I wanted to scream at him and tell him that time was a ticking bomb for me for I too may not live that long for both “Oji chan” to accept me. And by that time it may be too late for both the “Oji chan” to know me and where about grave.

He stood up abruptly and gently took the wooden box from me. I desperately wanted to cling to him, my last relatives in the world and my last blood link through my mother. I badly wanted to beg him to accept me but could hardly utter any words; no words could describe what I was feeling. I sat on the garden deck, so lost in the world that has just crumbled down in front of me. He too stood there looking down at me. At last he said, “I will call a taxi for you to bring you back to where ever you are staying. We have your Los Angeles address and contact number written on the letter that you had given to me just now. I am sorry I could not offer you any other hospitality nor allow you to witness the final burial ritual for your mother. Please go and never come back until you are called for.” These were the worst harsh words I ever had to hear. I was expecting them to accept me, waiting for some miracle to happen but it was not possible. I was asking for the impossible and a bitter reality to a half bred like me.

He walked up the wooden steps, opened the wooden door and gently closed it behind him. The moment the wooden door closed, I started crying my heart out loudly. I cried for not being able to say final goodbye to Mom. I cried for myself for not being accepted by them. I cried for my health and finally I cried knowing that I will be alone and will die alone, with no one knowing me. I do not know how long I sat there crying, until a car horn brought me to my senses. I got up slowly. Life was slowly seeping out from me. I was shattered. Like a zombie, I opened the taxi door and quietly sat in. I was still crying and did not hear the taxi driver asking for my destination. He finally started the engine, when I lifelessly told him my address in Shinjuku area. Having a last look at the forbidden Japanese house, I silently bid farewell to my mother and only closed my eyes when the house was out of sight. Silent tears kept rolling down my eyes. Bitter reality finally set in, knowing that the Yamamoto family would never accept me. It was the hardest bitter truth that I could not accept but I have to accept it in reality. I sat in the taxi, oblivious to my surrounding. My feelings and emotions were all pent up and it was the longest drive back to home. I was shedding silent tears and was deeply shattered.

When the taxi drove into my driveway, I paid the driver his fare and quietly alight from the taxi. I opened my door and let myself in, not bothering to on the lights. I automatically said “Hello” to mom when I passed her room but stopped myself. Mom was no longer in the house with me. She was finally where she belonged, with her family. I prayed that mom would be finally at peace at her family burial ground. I looked at mom’s picture, now hanged on the wall. Clutching my aching chest, a loud howl escaped from my mouth. I went down on my knees in front of my mom’s picture and cried as hard as I can. Lying on my side, I bend my knees to my chest and cried myself to sleep.

The relentless ringing of the phone woke me up from my deep slumber. I was so disorientated to my environment and had to struggle to orientate myself. Like a zombie, I went over to answer the call. It was Saya, my best friend from America, calling to check on me. Hearing my weary voice, she passed the phone to uncle. Uncle sounded so worried and told me that he had received a call from Jun Yamamoto. I related everything to uncle, who listened very quietly over at his end. I ended up crying at each sentences and words. Uncle could only reassure and tried to calm me over the phone and told me to drop everything and come back to Los Angeles once I have gathered my emotions and thoughts. I thank uncle and Saya for their concerned and promise to call and update them about my health.

After I hang up the call with uncle, I realised that it was past midnight. I had missed my lunch, dinner and all my medications. As it was too late to take it now, I warmed up a glass of milk and went to bed with a heavy heart. I made a promise to mom that I would be happy from now. I also promised myself as time was a “ticking bomb” for me, I would enjoy the rest of my stay in Japan and with time, my wounds would heal and I would forget the Yamamoto family. I also remind myself mentally to write down the event that took place and the places that I would visit while in Japan. Somehow, Mt Fuji and Tokyo Tower came to my mind and with this thought; I shut my eyes and immediately fall asleep.

I got up to the beautiful sunshine shining into my room. After having a quick shower and breakfast, I stick to my medications regimen, injected my analgesic and popped in all my morning medications. I then took out my diary and started writing down all that has transpired, refusing to shed any more tears for the rest of Yamamoto family members. I wrote down the places I wanted to visit in Japan and decided to call the tour agency to help me to organise a tour schedule for me. Once I was done, I decided to explore and take the train to the hospital to pick up my jacket, hoping that Satoshi san or the hospital staff would have kept it at the Nursing Station.

Upon reaching the hospital, I asked the staff in my broken Japanese about my beige jacket but none could help. Since I hated the hospital, I decided to give up on the beige jacket half-heartedly and made my way back to the train station. With broken Japanese language, I managed to find my way to Central Tokyo and explore the streets and it’s attraction. I choose to walk to Tsukiji Market from Shimbashi Station. I heard it is famous as a wholesale market for fruits, vegetables and fishes. I walked around the fruit stalls, enjoying watching people buying all types of fruits such as Nashi pears, Kyoho (Japanese grapes) and cherries. I decided to buy four Nashi pears and explore more of Central Tokyo. From Tsukiji market I went over to Akihabara, well known for its electronics technology and trade and for its huge electronic store. I casually move around Akihabara, seeing interesting vending machines selling all sorts of soft drinks and canned oden. While walking around, something caught my attention and it was the maid cafes and manga cafes. It was fascinating for the waitresses dress up and act like maids while in the manga café, customers can read comics and watch DVDs.

Feeling a little tired and exhausted, I decided to treat myself with Udon noodles for it was almost past lunchtime. I sat at a quiet table near the window and decide to go slow and watch the people rushing for lunch or rushing back to offices. After having a cup of espresso coffee, I decided to make my way home before the office hour rush on the trains. As I was still in the mood of exploring I choose to take the JR Yamanote Line back to Shinjuku Station and to enjoy the train journey back home. As I reached Shinjuku Station, I made my mind not take any short cut and avoid all the bars as much as possible. I took a long route back home, slowly strolling and enjoying my walk.

The next few days were filled with excitement as I explored Tokyo with enthusiasm. The tour agency guided tour was fantastic and was a small-group guided tour with a professional Japanese bilingual guide. With the guided tour, I toured Tokyo Skytree and from the observation deck I enjoyed the scenic view of Tokyo city. We were informed that Asakusa was on the other side of the Sumida River. The next destination was the Sensoji Temple, the oldest temple in Tokyo and the symbol of Asakusa. After having lunch at Asakusa, we proceeded to Nihombashi, where one can take various boat rides, Shimbashi and finally dinner at Ginza. I also managed to view the famous Tokyo Tower, the Imperial Palace Plaza, Shibuya and Harajuku, an area where one can find latest trends in fashion, cafes and sweets. Since the last stop for the day was dinner at Shinjuku, I separated from the group to avoid the bars at Golden Gai. I went home to have a simple dinner and to rest my tired body.

Upon reaching home, I had a quick shower, dinner, followed by my daily routine of medication regimen. I also left a message for Saya and uncle, updating them about my health and promising to call them again on American time. I decided to sleep early due to my final tour with the tour agency to explore Mt Fuji or Fuji san, the most famous volcanic mountain that had been worshipped as a sacred mountain. We were also informed to be our comfortable tracking suits and boots. I got up early to be at the Shinjuku Station by six in the morning. After having my breakfast and my medication and packing all the necessary things required for our climb at Mt Fuji, I walked over to Shinjuku station to meet up with the tour guide and other group members.

When we arrived at Mt Fuji, we were encouraged to hike the mountain as if was off peak seasons and not very crowd. We learned that Mt Fuji was divided into ten stations, with the first station at the base of the mountain, The Fuji Subaru Line fifth station and the tenth station at the summit of the mountain. We decided to follow the tour guide to take the paved roads to the fifth station. As it was a day tour, the group members were very casual and taking their time to climb the mountain and enjoying the beautiful view. Even from where we were standing, the view of the mountain was breath taking. When we reached the fifth station, we saw lots of parking lots, coin lockers and restaurants and shops. There were lots of climbers too, stocking up their food supply required for the continuous climb. We had a break at one of the restaurants and decide to explore the fifth station rather than continuing the ascent.

The tour guide informed us we could have a nice picturesque view of the Fuji Five Lakes, an unconstructive view of the Fujiyoshida City and Lake Yamanakako near the Komitake Shrine. I decided to take lots of pictures of Mt Fuji at various angles, for not knowing when I will be returning to Japan. I visited the Komitake Shrine with other group members who were interested in viewing the shrine and it’s surrounding. After spending several hours at The Fuji Subaru fifth station, it was time for us to return to the base of the mountain and for our dismissal at Shinjuku station. I did not regret going up to the top of the mountain for I knew my health too well. By the time we reached at Shinjuku station, I was very exhausted and decided to take a short taxi ride back home. On reaching home, I made a simple dinner of miso soup with hot steam rice. After taking my medication, I took out my diary and wrote down the places I have visited in Tokyo and wrote in details regarding the majestic and beautiful Mt Fuji or Fuji san. I made a silent promise to myself that if time permits, I would love to go the tenth station, which was the summit of the volcanic mountain. With these thoughts on my mind, I went to bed, telling myself not to rise early and to rest my body more.

The constant ringing of the house phone woke me up from my deep slumber. It was Saya, who informed me that someone by the name of Satoshi was looking for me. I was surprised to hear this and was still wondering how did Satoshi san get my number? My thoughts were interrupted again by Saya’s loud voice right into ear. Laughing to myself, I realised that Saya, being an inquisitive person, had been asking rapid questions about Satoshi san and how I knew him. She said he kept mentioning about saving someone and a jacket. I was still laughing at Saya’s silliness, when I heard uncle’s voice telling me firmly to relate to him so he can understand. I reiterated how I helped a stranger about two weeks, been to an unknown hospital, who was this Satoshi and leaving my beige jacket behind in a hurry to escape the hospital environment.

Uncle was surprised and started laughing when I told him that I blew off my cool attitude and ended up scolding Satoshi. Uncle informed me that he had asked this Satoshi san for his number and had refused to reveal any information relating to me and caution me to be careful when in a foreign land. Uncle then asked me about my mobile phone. I laughed and told uncle I do have a Japan’s mobile number but have not added in the SIM card nor charged the phone for I have forgotten all about the mobile phone as there were many things occupying my mind. I reassured uncle that I would be careful when collecting my jacket from Satoshi san and shall be discreet about it. I quickly wrote the number given my uncle, asking him how to dial from Japan and if any area code would be needed. Before I hang up my conversation with uncle, I heard Saya’s voice in the background, saying that she was going to bug me about this Satoshi. I laughed off and bid my good bye to uncle, telling him that it was very early in Tokyo and I needed my beauty sleep.

As I sat on the bed looking at the piece of paper in hand, I kept wondering how did this guy manage to get my American contact. I was still thinking hard when I suddenly remembered that when the police officer had asked me to sign my statement, I had written uncle’s contact, under my name. It was a habit of mine to write my name and contact number whenever I had to sign any official or legal documents. I started laughing loudly, applauding Satoshi’s gut for calling uncle, knowing uncle’s protective nature where Saya and I were concerned. Putting the piece of paper under the table light, I went to back to bed, happy that I would be getting my favourite beige jacket. When I got up next, it was nine in the morning. I quickly had my shower, breakfast and medication and started planning my day to enjoy the shopping area near Shinjuku station. I put my mobile phone to charge, put the SIM card in and wrote a note to remind myself to update my Japan’s mobile number to Saya and uncle.

I walked around electronics home appliances department store and the basement food stores. I took my time to window shop, admiring all the pots and pans, tasting Japanese and Western sweets. I visited the basement food floor where there were prepared lunch boxes and special prepared dishes. Surprisingly there was a long queue of people buying what they like to eat and take away. I managed to have a quick lunch and went back to food store where I ended buying groceries to stock up my pantry with necessary items for my daily cooking. I walked around enjoying everything at Shinjuku station. Feeling exhausted, I decided to walk back home with my groceries and my take away dinner of Japanese dry udon noodles.

I sorted out my groceries and food item in the pantry and had an early dinner and my medication. I went over my room to get Satoshi’s number and decided to meet him to pick up my jacket. I dialled the number accordingly, as taught by uncle. After a few rings, a suave voice answered my call and said, “Moshi, Moshi. I quickly introduced myself as Rebecca Yamamoto and asked in Japanese, “Anatawa Satoshi san desuka?” There was a silence and then a gentle voice said, “Satoshi des.” I quickly introduced myself in English and slowly told him that I am calling him to pick up my jacket and to name the place and time where I can meet him. There a was an awkward silence, followed by, “Omachi kudasai.” I could hear some soft conversation in rapid Japanese. After waiting for almost ten minutes, I heard Satoshi’s voice again. “Yamamoto san, Hai we can meet. Do you…a silence and then, “Anata no address wa nandesuka?” I told Satoshi san in incomplete Japanese to meet at Tokyo station tomorrow for I had an appointment around Tokyo area. I finally agree to meet Satoshi san in a café at the Four Seasons Tokyo Hotel, Marunouchi, which I was quite familiar with. With the confirmation of the timing, I quickly ended my conversation with him by saying a quick, “Sayonara.  Ja mata ne.”

With this task complete, I sat on the couch with a book. Finally I felt so relieve that I was getting my jacket and having some time to myself. I made a cup of hot chocolate and cuddle myself in a comfortable position to read my book. After reading a few chapters, I decided to go to bed after writing in my diary. Surprisingly I woke up before my alarm could ring. I had my normal hygiene routine and medical regimen. As it was a windy, I decided to put my windbreaker jacket and walked down slowly to Shinjuku station. Upon reaching Tokyo station, I changed to the Ginza line for I wanted to visit The Wako Clock Tower, which stands at the Ginza Yonchome intersection and a symbolic landmark of Ginza.

After visiting the Wako Clock Tower, I walked around the famous department stores in Ginza, the Matsuya and Mitsukoshi. The Ginza Mitsukoshi really fascinated me the last I was there with the tour group but had no time to really shop around. I walked around all the five floors, which had women wears and accessories, enjoying ever bit of the sight. I also found out there was a tax exemption counter at the basement floor and a bronze lion outside the shopping centre was a popular meeting place. I brought some souvenirs for uncle and Saya and ended up indulging myself with Ginza flavoured tea and chocolate. It was simply heaven for me for I loved flavoured tea and chocolate. Finally I ended up having a very simple and a light western lunch in one of the Western restaurant. As it was still early to meet Satoshi san, I decided to walk from Ginza Matsuya to the Four Seasons Hotel Tokyo. I took pleasure in appreciating every little shops, stores and building in Ginza, telling myself that I have every right to enjoy my life for you live once only.

I was early for my appointment at the Four Seasons Hotel. I choose a cosy and a hidden corner to watch the world go by. It was almost four, when I took the escalator up to the second level, where the café was located. I look around slowly and surprisingly Satoshi san saw me first and waved to me. As I walked towards Satoshi san’s direction, I realised there was another gentleman sitting at the table. As I approached them, both gentlemen stood up. I quickly introduced myself to both gentlemen. I turned to Satoshi san and asked him in English for my jacket. “Ah! Reiko Yamamoto san, said Satoshi san.” “Rebecca Yamamoto,” I quickly correct him as it was my habit and gave him a smile. He nodded his head and started pulling out the chair for me to sit down.

“Uhmm…Satoshi san, Gomen-nasai ne. I came here to collect my jacket.” Before Satoshi san could reply, the other gentleman who was looking at me so intensely asked, “Can I buy you a coffee?” I was stunned. I immediately recognised the suave voice. It was “the actor.” My heart sank and was pounding very loudly in my ears. Turning slowly towards him, I looked at him with a perplexed expression on my face. “Uh..I am Kato Junichi, he said in English, with slight Japanese accent.” “I really want to thank you for saving me. It’s just a coffee. I promise you it’s just an honest cup of coffee. Nothing else.” I was speechless for I have not expected Satoshi san to bring his “actor” along. I turned to look at Kato san. Giving him a closed-lip smile, I shook my head. “No coffee, then let me bring you out for a dinner”, said Kato san. His words caught me off guard. I was flabbergasted. “Where did this guy get the guts from?” I silently asked and smile to myself.

Kato san was so persistent and had an audacious look on his face. “Well, I said. “Will you let me off if I agree to have a coffee with you here?” The moment these words were out from my mouth, Kato san’s face light up and gave me a genuine smile and the same time nodding his head. He was more like a child who got a new toy to play with. I really regretted my choice of words as I sat on the chair, facing Kato san. He kept looking at me, which was really intimidating and unsettling me. Turning towards Satoshi san I started a safe and a casual conversation with him. To me he was more comfortable to talk rather than Kato san whose expressive eyes were studying me and having an overwhelming effect on me. As for Satoshi san, he was more interested in what I have seen in Tokyo and how long I would be staying as a tourist. I told him what I have seen so far but kept numb about my stay in Tokyo.

While we were talking the waitress came over to take our order. After ordering an Americano coffee for me, Kato san insisted on ordering some desserts and snacks for me to try. Looking briefly at Kato san, I deeply thank him for the coffee and gently decline the offer for desserts and snacks. I told him I had tea and chocolate at Ginza before coming over to meet Satoshi san to get my coat. He nodded his head and oh my god! I could just fall in love with his eyes, which were piercing mine. I never had felt this strong attraction against an opposite sex. I felt that he could see the real me without my façade. I was glad when the coffee mugs arrived for it gave me a chance to occupy my mind with a coffee. I was sipping and enjoying my coffee when Kato san suddenly said “Reiko” and my immediate response was “Rebecca, please. That’s my name. Rebecca”. I could see a look of surprised on his face but he repeated after me softly “Rebecca.” “Rebecca, I would to thank you for bringing me to the hospital and saving my life.”

There was pin drop silent at my end.

*Negative comments are rude. Please provide positive feedback and enjoy my unedited (raw) short stories.*

To be continued…

Due to work commitment, I’m trying my best to complete the story and coming up with another new story pertaining to depression and suicide. Stay tune.