Yokogawa Youth

Miriam steps down the steep, narrow steps of the concrete apartment building her Airbnb is in. Her huffs, echoing through the stairwell, remind her to take up exercising again. She had made the trip up the stairs two nights ago with her small suitcase but can’t remember if the same thoughts had crossed her mind. Perhaps her old memories of the area were distracting enough to ignore the strain put on her body, but she thinks that she should be used to being in her 50s by now. Body and muscle aches are just par for the course.

Pulling the front door open, Miriam can’t get over how similar everything seems. The bustling streets of the Yokogawa area are everything her mid-20s self had taken in. The random ramen shops with lines out the door; the chorus of engines, stopping and starting; the cars running red lights and driving through any sliver of an opening between people in a crosswalk. She feels her mind go right back to that mindset, the youthful foreigner full of wonder, her eyes focused on the station in front of her. 

The air around Yokogawa Station is magnetic. The jazzy music playing through speakers only heard on one corner; the streetcar, reminiscent of an even earlier time, pulling out into traffic; the rooved covering above the station’s sidewalks, high up, giving a sense of protection and comfort; the businessmen and students in uniforms rushing out of the station entrance and toward their destinations; the sweet smell of fresh melonpan from the baker; the roar of the bus engines as they pull in and out of their respective stops near the curb of the sidewalk. It’s just like back then, when she

she stopped in front of the station entrance. Her face felt hot as she stared at the unfamiliar writing on the digital timetables above her. They soon changed to English, and Miriam breathed out a bit. Pulling out her smartphone, she double checked the name of the final destination Google Maps told her to take. Itozaki. She lifted her head and saw she was almost 15 minutes early, laughing lightly at the overestimation. She decided to head in anyway toward Platform 3. Being this early, maybe she could even get a seat. She scanned her train pass at the ticket gate with a beep and headed in. There were only a few people around past the gate, which allowed her to easily find the stairs up to her platform. She took her time, allowing her to catch her breath a bit. At the top, the April sun and crisp morning air greeted her. She found a door number label on the ground to stand at and set her bookbag on the ground, feeling her shoulders relax. She looked to the left, down the rest of her platform at the other people waiting to make sure she was standing at the right spot. She felt better after another person, a girl in a school uniform, came up the stairs and stood behind her.  

Miriam scanned the area in front of her. A large screen on a building past the next platform and behind the station caught her eye. It was playing what looked like a commercial, but she couldn’t tell about what, but it had beautiful animation. Her eyes moved to the platform across the tracks in front of her. There were many people waiting in line, spaced out at each door number; students, some men and women in suits, some older women who had big but empty bags. It was a nice sunny morning, which probably coaxed many people who weren’t working to come out and start their day, maybe enjoy some shopping. That made Miriam think about a restaurant she saw the other day. She pulled open Google Maps on her phone and pushed her thumb around the screen, scanning for the previously starred place.

Looking up and checking for any movement down the tracks, her eyes made their way again to the platform across from her. There were a few more people than before. She looked over her shoulder and noticed the same on her side. Train time must be close. Looking forward again, she noticed someone walking. It looked like just a guy in a suit, but something stood out. His bright blonde hair almost blinded her in the small glimpses of sun coming through the ridges of the platform covering. He couldn’t be Japanese, right? She squinted a bit at his face. Hard to tell from that distance, but she assumed she was among another foreigner. She suddenly felt a bit self-conscious, looking down and trying not to make eye contact. But she was curious. She turned her head away but lifted her eyes up toward him. He was standing almost exactly across from her, looking down at his phone. She could see him a little better in the more direct sun. He definitely was a foreigner. He had a somewhat thin build, and the suit fit him well. He was tall but didn’t tower over the other people waiting near him. 

A loud, jolly tune started to play from a speaker above Miriam. She heard an automated voice speak over it in Japanese. She couldn’t make out much of it but assumed it was saying the train would be arriving soon. The tune sounded somewhat familiar, like a midi version of a classical sonata, but she couldn’t quite place it. She saw the train coming down from the left side of the tracks. As it was approaching, she gave a quick glance across from her at the suited foreigner. He was looking straight at her. Her eyes widened and she quickly darted her eyes back at the train, which, a half-second later, slid between them with a screechy stop. Her face felt hot. She stepped forward to the corner of the train door in front of her and let out a strained breath. As the doors opened, people started squeezing their way out of the train. She waited for an opening and quickly walked to an open spot, facing away from the foreigner, and grabbed a handrail. She let her muscles relax and tried to push him out of her mind. It was just a random guy anyway. She needed to focus her mind on today, her first day as an English teacher at a Japanese school.

By the next morning, Miriam felt more confident on her route, only checking Google Maps twice the whole way. And she had forgotten about the foreigner until she saw him nonchalantly walk to the same spot as the day before, looking at his phone once again. It was a more gray morning, so the sun didn’t illuminate his hair quite as blindingly as before. Today he was wearing a blue suit. Miriam wondered if he was also an English teacher, since it was easy for foreigners to live in Japan with that kind of job. Her interview process with the company Chiron was nerve-wracking because she hadn’t taught before, but she was accepted rather quickly after the group interview. If that guy really was an English teacher, he could very well also be at the same company as her. They hadn’t had a city meeting with all of the Chiron teachers yet, so she hadn’t met anyone else. She was invited to the city teacher’s group on the messaging app, LINE, but hadn’t said anything besides, “Hello, everyone!!” 

The midi tune played once again, and she was pulled into the present. When her eyes focused, she saw the foreigner looking at her once again. She stopped herself from acting strange like the day before. Maybe he wasn’t looking at her! He was a good distance away, so she couldn’t really tell. Just in case, she gave a polite smile and nod. He smiled in return. Even with the two lanes of tracks between them, she could tell his smile was genuine. But because of these tracks, she could barely tell more than that. She stopped herself from squinting and resigned herself to believing he was just being polite. Before she could do anything else, the train separated their silent hellos, and she was off again with her work day.

For the next three morning commutes, Miriam noticed the suited foreigner across from her, and they exchanged polite smiles each time. He was becoming a landmark for her almost. Go up the stairs, stand at the 7th door label, smile at the foreigner, board the train, walk to school, repeat. 

On her way home that Friday, she was feeling excited for some free time. She hadn’t really had a chance to check out Hiroshima between the training time, getting settled in her apartment, and the start of school. It hadn’t even been a month since her arrival! 

She headed out of the train, picturing what the weekend had in store, and walked down the stairs. At the bottom, she saw the suited foreigner, walking the same direction as her. Her face started to get warm as she turned in front of him toward the gates. There was no way he didn’t see her.

“Hey,” Miriam heard from behind. She stopped and faced the suited foreigner, eyes widened in not-quite surprise. But she was surprised at how handsome he was up close. And his eyes. She definitely couldn’t have known he had the most striking ice blue eyes.

“Hi,” Miriam replied, a little entranced. “So weird to see you without two lanes of train tracks between us.” She laughed lightly, feeling a small knot starting to form in her throat.

“I know,” he laughed in return. “I almost didn’t recognize you!” They laughed together, Miriam trying to avoid too much of his gaze. “Are you perhaps an English teacher, too?”

“How did you know?” She didn’t know if she should feel slightly creeped out or what.

“Just a guess from your suit jacket and the fact that you're a foreigner.”

“Well, lucky guess! And, uhh, you’re a teacher, too?” Miriam glanced around her in case she was in anyone’s way.

“Yep! With Chiron.”

Miriam grew a puzzled look. “Wow, me too,” she almost questioned.

“Oh, no way! Are you new? I haven’t seen you at the meetings.”

“Yeah, I just started this year. It’s my first teaching job ever.”

He chuckled. “Been there. Are you on the LINE chat? There’s a lot of people who can answer any question you have on there.”

“Yeah, but I’m more of a lurker.”

“Oh, I never got your name.”

“Miriam, but you can call me Miri.”

“Miri? Cool. So, what’s your name in katakana? Mili?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Some of the kids have started calling me ‘Mililiter’.”

He burst out laughing. “That’s a good one!”

“And what’s your name?”

“Ben. Not much different in katakana.”

She chucked. “Well, nice to meet you, Ben.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” 

There was a short pause between them. Miriam searched the station with her eyes for something else to say. 

“Well,” Ben started, “I’ll let ya get going. Happy Friday!” He started walking toward the gates. “See ya, Monday,” he said with a wave. Miriam waved back as she watched him leave the station and took a deep breath. Heading out of the station herself, her thoughts raced. 

Miriam walked up the station steps every day, heart beating hard, not from the many steps, but from the anticipation. She would reach her go-to waiting spot, and Ben would emerge soon after, directly across from her. His smile became something she needed to see. One morning, she received a LINE message from him. He got her username from the Chiron Hiroshima City group chat and asked her how her first week had gone. They chatted back and forth, exchanging glances from across the tracks until their trains took them opposite ways. But the messaging continued. They messaged throughout the week until Friday evening. Miriam walked down the stairs of Platform 3, after a long day of teaching, and Ben greeted her. They continued the talk in person and out of the station. It was just a small “How ya doing?” at first. The feelings were fast for Miriam. She became nervous for every morning and every Friday, and almost dreaded a day off for the risk of missing the wonderful smile and chat and caring eyes. 

It was the third Friday of seeing him. Miriam was becoming more confident at work and slightly more comfortable in Ben’s presence. He met her at the bottom of the stairs again. This time he seemed a bit more quiet. As they walked down to the convenience store, Family Mart, for a pastry, she thought she saw him pacing an aisle, but maybe he had just missed what he was looking for. After she paid for her chocolate donut, she waited outside for him. The air was cool; the sun illuminated the station in beautiful evening light and long shadows spread across the ground. It wasn’t quite rush hour, so there weren’t too many people around. But school had long since let out, so students hung around, waiting for their friends or walking together with their bikes, laughing and enjoying their free time. 

Miriam heard the ding-dong of the motion sensor from the automatic door opening behind her. Ben came out, a weighted plastic bag dangling from his hand.

“Whaddya get?” she asked happily.

He rifled through the small bag, showing the contents. “Just some cheesy bread thing for my breakfast tomorrow.” 

“Looks yummy!” She turned back toward the station view. “I was just admiring the atmosphere. It’s an amazing day right now.”

He took a moment to look around. “You’re right. Sometimes I forget to just stop and enjoy the now.” Miriam nodded in agreement but didn’t say anything. They were still taking in the view when Ben said, “Miri?”

“Yeah?” She pulled herself away from the sight and toward Ben. 

“Have you ever been to Miyajima?”

She shook her head. “No, but I’ve heard it’s the place to go to if you’re in Hiroshima. Don’t you have to take a ferry there?”

“Yeah,” he replied, then paused for a moment. “Would you wanna go together?”

Miriam felt her heart speed up. “Umm, yeah! Sounds fun.”

A big smile spread across Ben’s face. “Cool! It’s a great place. You can take the train from here directly to the ferry. And, actually, you can take my train; the one I take every morning to get to school

Ben’s school train, Miriam remembers, looking up at the timetables for the familiar final destination name. Iwakuni, Platform 4. She grips a backpack strap in one hand and her train pass in the other, and heads through the gate. She gazes up the stairs to her old Platform 3, looking as gray and concretey as she remembers. But she carries on, her new destination a little further down. She takes the next set of stairs, almost identical to Platform 3’s, and walks slowly up. She shields her eyes as she reaches the top but the sun doesn’t hit her. There are quite a few people already lined up, but she knows where she needs to go. She steps up to the number 3 door sticker. She stares at the number on the ground for longer than she expects, shuffling her feet slightly. She closes her eyes for a moment, trying to stop any public tears from appearing. After a deep breath, she looks up and across the tracks. Her old platform, Platform 3, is getting crowded with the morning commuters, but she doesn’t notice them. She only stares directly across from her, at the number 8 door stop. She doesn’t see the long line that has already formed. She doesn’t notice that some of the people in line are avoiding her stare. She only sees Young Miriam. The view of Miriam almost 30 years ago. This is what Ben saw. What did he feel, catching her eye for the first time? He told her the story before many times, but she doesn’t remember all the details. She remembers he said the sun was blinding him that first day. He couldn’t see into Platform 3 at all. Miriam lets out a laugh, not able to hold back the tears anymore. 

A loud midi tune of a classical song starts to play through the loudspeakers. Miriam wipes her eyes with her sleeve and quietly laughs again. She still doesn’t know what song this is.

The train for Iwakuni approaches, and she finds a seat in the corner of the third car. It’s about twenty minutes before her stop at Miyajima-guchi. She transfers to the short ferry ride to the island of Miyajima. She doesn’t stop to pet the deer, take pictures of the beautiful, red torii gate in the water, or eat the fresh, local oysters. She knows her goal. She hikes up a steep hill and up many stairs to the Mt. Misen Ropeway. She has never been a fan of heights, but Ben made her feel comfortable on their trip up the mountain. It was their first date. She was a bucket of sweat by the end of the hike, but it didn’t stop them from coming back for their honeymoon about five years later. This time, it’s their last trip together. It was what he asked for. 

At the top, she doesn’t stop till she reaches the observatory, where she finally lets herself take a breath. There isn’t a cloud in the sky, making the magnificent view of the mountainscape and surrounding waters below take her breath away for a moment. She steps up to the edge of the cliff, the wind lifting the hairs up on her arms with goosebumps. She sets her backpack on the ground, pulls out the silver tin of Ben’s ashes, grabs a handful, and sets it free over the cliffside.