In Tokyo (Pt. 1)
No wonder people love coming here, I thought to myself. This place is absolutely incredible, with its natural environment and the food-- oh don’t get me started. I walk past a full bloomed eastern cherry tree and pick a blossom that landed on a smooth stone bench. Its delicate blush pink petals feel like heaven and the smell is so romantic, it reminds me of the love in “The Notebook”. I tuck it away gently in my shirt pocket so I don’t ruin its tremendous beauty. The smell of freshly cooked ramen fills my nose and puts me in a hypnotic state. I begin to drool thinking of it and my stomach roars like a lion. I guess a small bowl of ramen wouldn’t hurt right now. I go to the ramen shop where the smell is coming from, (just a few yards away) and place an order for a small pork ramen bowl.
“こんにちは (Hello)”, says this frail old woman with flocculent, ashy black hair who will be taking my order.
“こんにちは (Hello)”, I say as nicely as possible, but the smells stronger and I feel like i’ll die if I don’t have it now.
“どんなラーメンが好きですか。チキン、ビーフ、ポーク、ステーキ? (What kind of ramen would you like? Chicken, beef, pork, or steak?”, she says kindly, not knowing what i’ll do for a bowl.
“スパイシーポークしてください (Spicy pork please)”, I say already taking my money out and putting it on the counter, shifting it towards her.
“五百六十円 (560 yen)”, she says not noticing the currency in front of her.
I eagerly put the money almost directly in her face and she flinched. She gave me a funny look before taking the money and gave me my receipt. After that, she yelled something to the cooks and they got to doing their job. Five minutes later the woman comes back with a large bowl of ramen (even though I asked for a small) that makes my body wiggle with excitement. This looks delicious, with perfectly made noodles, a soft-boiled egg cut perfectly in the middle, the slices of thick, spicy pork, the handful of potent onion chives, and the thinly shredded leeks just to top it off. Before I can finally sink my teeth into this, I grab my disposable chopsticks and go sit on the level stone bench beneath the large tree. I quickly dip into my ramen and take the first scrumptious bite. My eyes go wide and I savor this dangerous flavor of pork broth, cayenne pepper, and wheat noodles. That was it for me, and I sucked it up like a vacuum to a dirty carpet. I then went to go get a drink at this place called “Yow’s Boba Teas” that was close to the ramen shop. I ordered a medium hazelnut milk tea with golden boba. It was a bit expensive but I am watching my money closely, making sure it doesn’t grow legs and walk off into too many cash registers. This soothed my stomach and gave a sweet, cold taste. The boba’s texture felt strange and gooey in my mouth, but it tasted like fresh honey. My stomach thanks me with a little rumble and settles well with everything. After my meal and drink, I walk along the edge of a lily pond and think about what I’m going to do now. I need to lay low just in case my parents report me, let’s just get a job Hanako and sleep in the car until the coast is clear. This is my plan for now until I can save up for an apartment if my parents tell the police anything. I can’t go back there, never, I think and shudder to myself. Since I don’t have a phone, I walk to a damp telephone pole and see if there is any “NOW HIRING” signs up. “Would you like to be a model and show off those amazing features? We are the Top Hat Model Co. and we are requesting models of any age, male or female. Call 012-345-5745 now!”. I laugh at that one, me? A model? No. I don’t see any that interest me or are in my skill level, so I decide to go to a vendors and food market and see if anyone is hiring. Hopefully this makeup is covering most of my bruising, but i’m getting hot in this long sleeve. I roll up my sleeve but I forget for a split second about my scars and healing bruises. I start to tear up looking at my arms and feeling my cakey face, Why did they do this to me? What did I do wrong? I wipe the small meaningful streams off my face and continue to walk, trying to go into my happy place.
By the time I got there, almost all the shops were closed so I have to make do with what I can see. I strolled past a butcher’s stand and the look of that hanging pig made me think of myself. All torn up and broken, left to the flys, and the face, ugly as ever. I wish I could stop thinking these thoughts, but they run through my head 24/7. I’ve never been to a therapist or a physiatrist for any of these thoughts, because my parents feared that they would notice something more going on. I’ve never told a single soul the real truth, not even my hamster when I was seven, I thought that he could understand me and I didn’t want him to feel sad. I accidentally run into a woman because I’m lost in my own head.
“ああ、それについてすみません! (Oh, sorry about that!)”, I say trying to catch my balance.
“大丈夫だ (it’s fine)”, she says in a perfect fluency.
She is american it looks like, but a mix of something else as well. She has a yellow and honey mixed skin tone that looks gleaming and as soft as a baby. Her jet black hair is marshmallow thick with soft unique curls. She is taller than me and has a masculine look to her. Her body is slim and lanky but has distinct muscle features. Her nose is long and thin in the middle but pointed like an upward nubian. Her lips are full with a pink gloss on that makes then look more naturally glamorous. She has big doey hazel eyes with long lashes and full almost untamed, dark brows. Her cheekbones are sunken in deep enough to be strong but not enough to look starved. She has a heart face shape with a tough looking scar on her lower right jaw line.
She reaches her hand out and touches my shoulder.
“大丈夫ですか？(Are you okay?),” she asks genuinely concerned.
She probably thought I was lost by the expression on my face.
“はい、ごめんなさい (Yes, i’m sorry),” I say as my face turns red.
She gives a gentle smile and removes her hand knowing it makes me uncomfortable. I look up into her deep eyes and I have an out of body experience. She cups my face and guides me to her. My face must be tomato red now and burning like an inferno with steam coming from my head.
“あなたは病気に見えます、あなたは大丈夫ですか？(You look sick, are you sure you’re okay?),” She says feeling my forehead.
I feel like i’m about to throw up, my stomach is going crazy. Like that feeling when you go down a steep slope on a roller coaster. Maybe it was something in the ramen, or the tea, I couldn’t figure out why I was feeling this way. I shake my head thinking there’s no point in lying when I’m clearly ill. She takes me to a curb while holding my shoulders so I can stay balanced.