April 9th
A text message or the train's sudden jolt disrupted Akira's slumber. He groggily questioned when he had drifted off, unable to recall falling asleep. The train ride from his hometown to Tokyo spanned roughly an hour and thirty minutes. Akira sat upright, rubbing his eyes and inadvertently brushing his new glasses – a recent acquisition from his mom before his journey to Tokyo. The realization hit him as he thought about his destination – Tokyo, the city he will now call his home for the next year, or what he cynically referred to as his "prison." Akira couldn't help but snort in amusement.
His recent journey had been a turbulent one, transitioning from a brief stay in juvenile hall, a consequence of his father's reluctance to have him at home. Now, he was residing with a stranger. Though Akira had little familiarity with his new guardian, this individual was no stranger to his parents. Per his mother's account, Sojiro Sakura was an old college friend.
"Akira, I don't see a better option for you right now than living with Sojiro," his mother emphasized. He grunted and tightened his grip on his bag, recalling the abrupt news of his relocation to Tokyo. He felt an overwhelming mix of anger, betrayal, and misery at the lack of proper discussion regarding this life-altering change. It was as if they had decided to cast him aside. Akira shook his head in an attempt to shake off the harsh memories, but they persisted – the yelling, the shouting, the police car, and the expulsion from school.
"Quit joking around! You're scaring me!" Akira's attention was drawn to two girls in school uniforms standing nearby. They clung to a metal pole, engrossed in their phones. Judging by their uniform colors, they didn't attend Shujin Academy, the school Akira was about to enter.
The taller girl scoffed, teasing her companion. "You get scared easily, huh? Besides, train wrecks don't happen every day. You'll be fine." Her mischievous grin widened as she added. "You know that new South Korean movie called 'Train to Busan'? What if, at the next stop, a bunch of zombies comes to eat our brains?" Her laughter filled the air.
"Stop it!"
Akira's attention drifted from the girls, and he reached for his phone, curious about the message he had received. It was from his mom.
MOM: Let me know when you arrive at Leblanc. And remember, I love you.
Anger swelled within Akira, and he scoffed, promptly deleting his mother's message. I don't know why she's acting like she cares when, in reality, she's glad I'm gone. The automated announcement from the train then interrupted his thoughts:
"We are now entering Shibuya. This is the last stop for the day. Doors will open to your right."
As the train halted and the doors swung open, Akira joined the bustling crowd on the platform. The sheer volume of people bewildered him, a stark contrast to his rural background. He discreetly observed the bustling commuters, none of whom spared him a second glance.
With his shoulders slumped and hands tucked into his pockets, Akira made his way out of the station and into the Station Square. Seeking a quiet corner, he checked his GPS, confirming the route to Yongen-Jaya. He needed to get there quickly. Along the way, he encountered numerous people and offered polite apologies when necessary, but he couldn't help but notice the brusqueness of city dwellers. Akira had never imagined that the residents of large cities could be so impolite.
As predicted, he located the train bound for Yongen-Jaya without much trouble. However, it was jam-packed, forcing him to grip a hanging strap as there were no available seats. The train's sudden movement caused him to bump into a fellow passenger, and he hurriedly apologized. The surrounding commuters were engrossed in books, mobile games, or napping. Akira clung to his bag and remained stationary until the train reached its destination in Yongen-Jaya.
###
Yongen-Jaya's backstreet painted a picture of a forgotten, once-popular area. Most storefronts appeared closed, with a majority of the area's demographic consisting of the elderly and middle-aged. The residents strolled and conversed as if they had lived there for years. Akira couldn't spot anyone close to his age or younger, but the area bore a strange familiarity, reminding him of his old neighborhood.
Akira's mood darkened, memories of his past flooding back, making his stomach churn. Saliva began to fill his mouth at an alarming rate, and before he could react, he bent over and threw up on the concrete. In the distance, the approaching sound of heels echoed.
"Hey kid, you don't look so well. Are you alright?"
Akira flinched as he felt an unexpected touch. He turned to find an attractive young woman in a white lab coat with a name tag that read Dr. Tae Takemi. She didn't fit the typical image of a doctor. Akira couldn't help but notice her black dress and platform heels, which accentuated her long legs.
"I'm not going to hurt you," she assured, noting his unease. "I'm a doctor. See?" She pointed to her name tag.
Akira nodded. "You don't look like a doctor. But I'm fine now. Maybe it was something I ate."
Takemi crossed her arms, studying him suspiciously. "Are you from around here? I've never seen you here before."
Before Akira could respond, a police officer approached. "Is there a problem here, ma'am?" His deep voice sent shivers down Akira's spine as the officer's gaze fell upon him. The teenager was unfamiliar, and the situation appeared troubling. "Shouldn't you be in school? Where's your uniform? Are you skipping class?"
Takemi shifted her gaze to Akira's trembling hands, one gripping his bag. "School is already out," she defended the boy. "And besides, he didn't do anything wrong."
The police officer gave Akira a final disapproving look before returning to his post. Takemi whispered to Akira, "Don't worry about him. He can be quite unpleasant at times."
"Uh, thank you?" Akira responded, intrigued by the unexpected adult support. "Sorry, but why did you help me?"
The doctor shrugged. "Because I could see how lost you were. So, before the officer rudely interrupted, who are you?"
"Akira Kurusu," he replied. "I'm new here."
"Akira Kurusu?" Takemi mumbled to herself. "Oh, now, I remember." The doctor snapped her fingers. "You're the delinquent taking residency at Café Leblanc for the year. Sojiro told me all about you."
Akira's eyes widened at the mention of his new guardian's name. "You know Sakura-san? Can you tell me where I can find him?"
Takemi tapped her chin. "I could tell you, but it will cost you." She broke out into a grin once she saw Akira's eyes widen in terror. "I'm joking. Come, I'll show you the way. I was headed in that direction anyway for some coffee."
Akira found Dr. Takemi to be an enigmatic individual as he followed her to Leblanc, engaging in small talk along the way. She asked about his journey and where he had come from. "Well, this is Café Leblanc," Dr. Takemi informed him. "Don't be deceived by its appearance. This place serves the best coffee and curry in Tokyo, though not many people know about it."
Café Leblanc had the air of an old family-owned shop, a far cry from modern cafes. It reminded Akira of the small café his mother used to visit before church on Sundays. She'd always say that coffee got her through the pastor's sermons. Dr. Takemi opened the door and gestured for him to enter first.
Akira's eyes adjusted to the dim lighting as he glanced around at the retro interior. Raggedy booths lined the left side, with an elderly couple occupying one, while the counter ran parallel. Jars of spices were neatly arranged on the shelves, and the air was filled with smoke, coffee, and curry.
A man sat at the counter, engrossed in a newspaper and crossword puzzle. Akira observed his pink dress shirt, khakis, black apron, and dated yet well-maintained appearance. The man's acknowledgment of Akira's arrival bore a hint of annoyance, but he acknowledged his presence.
"Found your little warden wandering around the streets like a lost child," Takemi informed Sojiro, who joined them at the counter. "It would have been nice if you waited at the train station for the boy. People get confused about this place if they aren't local."
Sojiro sighed, placing the newspaper and pencil on the counter. "I have a shop I have to run, you know."
"What about Wakaba?" Takemi inquired.
"She's at work," Sojiro replied. "Unlike you, neither of us can just leave our workplace."
Takemi raised an eyebrow and rested a hand over her chest. "Well, now you are making me look bad in front of your new guest."
Akira couldn't help but think that this argument sounded oddly like something between parents. The old couple got up from their booth, and as they shuffled toward the door, the older woman quickly smiled at Akira. "Thank you for the coffee, Sojiro. The money is on the table."
Sojiro smiled gently at the couple. "Thanks for coming."
Once the elderly couple had left, Sojiro grabbed the used coffee cups with a sigh. "Four hours for one cup of coffee. Unbelievable," he muttered as he walked around the counter to dump them in the sink.
Akira watched awkwardly as Sojiro worked. "Thank you for letting me stay here," he said. "I promise I won't cause any trouble."
Sojiro's face briefly displayed a smile, quickly concealed by a grunt. "I was wondering what kind of delinquent would end up on my doorstep. I didn't expect a brat with manners." Sojiro introduced himself, saying. "I'm Sojiro Sakura. Come with me, and I'll show you where you'll sleep."
Akira followed Sojiro to the attic, climbing the narrow staircase. The cluttered and dusty space greeted them, and Akira couldn't help but cough. The room was a complete mess, with trash bags, boxes, and tools strewn across the floor and tables. "This is my room?" Akira tried not to sound ungrateful, but the cell he had stayed in at juvenile hall seemed better than this.
Sojiro narrowed his eyes, seemingly aware of Akira's thoughts. "Staying in my house was out of the question. My daughter is a year younger than you, and I don't want her around a bad influence. Plus, there wouldn't be any room for you."
Akira flinched at Sojiro's harsh words. "I'm providing food and shelter, so you better be grateful you're not on the streets." Akira made a mental note not to cross his new guardian. "Now, let me give you the rundown of how things work here." Sojiro began explaining the house rules, emphasizing that he didn't want Akira wandering the streets at night and requiring him to be upstairs when there were customers. Akira nodded in agreement.
Sojiro continued, "The food in the cabinets and shelves is off-limits. You'll have to find your own food. If you want to act like an adult, I'll treat you like one. I've allocated specific spots in the fridge and cabinets for your things."
"Where can I take a bath and do laundry?" Akira asked.
"Ah, yes… I almost forgot about that." Sojiro scratched his chin. "You can use the bathroom downstairs. It only contains a sink and toilet, though. There is a public bath across from here for bathing. The laundromat is in that area, too. I don't remember how much they cost, so ask."
Sojiro stepped past him, heading towards the stairs, then paused. "Tomorrow, we're going to Shujin Academy," he announced. "You're going to get your ID. I have to sign some papers, and we'll introduce ourselves to the principal and your homeroom teacher. It's the proper thing to do since they allow you to attend. So, go to bed early tonight." Without saying another word, Sojiro climbed down the steps.
Silence engulfed the room as Sojiro departed. Akira slumped onto the bed, releasing a weary sigh. The predicament he now found himself in could have been far more dire. No school would have accepted him, and his parents could have cast him out onto the streets, leaving him destitute. "Well," he mumbled, "I'll be stuck in this hellhole for a year. I'd better make the most of it." Akira made a mental note to start job hunting that coming Sunday.
His mother had packed a substantial cardboard box conveniently placed in the middle of the attic. Kneeling down, Akira carefully opened the box and found an assortment of casual clothes, school uniforms, supplies, and toiletries. After sorting through the items, Akira made the decision to tackle a bit of cleaning in his new living quarters. He stood up, surveying the clouds of dust and cobwebs with a sense of dismay.
###
Akira felt drained, as though he'd just run a marathon. His body throbbed with fatigue, and perspiration clung to his skin. Despite his exhaustion, the attic now boasted a semblance of cleanliness, with tools and books neatly arranged. Akira stored his belongings in a container and hung his clothes from a wire on the ceiling. The room might not have been spotless, but it was more suitable for living.
Curiosity drew Akira to the sound of voices downstairs, and he perched on the top step to listen. Sojiro, Dr. Takemi, and a woman engaged in a conversation at the counter. Akira observed their interactions, slowly understanding the dynamics at play within this small café. He noted the woman was likely Wakaba, Sojiro's wife.
"Well," Takemi remarked as she set her coffee cup on the countertop, "it's getting late, and I should stop by my clinic to check on the inventory." She tilted her head toward Sojiro, her teasing grin in place. "So, you plan to take your young charge to Shujin Academy tomorrow to introduce him to the faculty?" Sojiro grumbled, and Takemi snorted. "Good luck with that. I'm still baffled they admitted the boy with his criminal record."
Sojiro shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine." Just then, his cell phone rang. He glanced at the caller and accepted the call. "Hey. He safely arrived this afternoon." Sojiro shrugged. "He seemed fine when he arrived. From the commotion I heard upstairs, I assumed he was cleaning. I can go and fetch him if you'd like to talk." Sojiro frowned. "Are you sure? The kid might want to hear a familiar voice before bedtime." He sighed. "I'll let him know. You do the same. Goodnight." Sojiro ended the call and rested his hands on the countertop.
Wakaba inquired, "What was that all about?"
Akira couldn't hear Sojiro's response, but he noticed the man headed towards the stairs. He swiftly moved to the bed and grabbed a pamphlet about Shujin Academy to appear occupied. Sojiro came upstairs and seemed somewhat surprised by the cleanliness of the attic. "So, you were cleaning." He walked over to the desk, running his finger across the surface, detecting no dust. "Not bad."
Akira shifted his gaze towards the man, replying, "Thank you."
Sojiro assessed the room with a quick glance before focusing on Akira. "I see you're reading up on the school you'll attend."
Slightly caught off guard by the sudden conversation, Akira flipped through the brochure. "There's not much to read," he noted. "They talk more about the sports clubs, especially volleyball, than the school itself."
Sojiro contemplated for a moment, then ran his fingers through his hair. "Well, who knows, maybe you'll join one of those clubs someday. It could help the year go by faster and keep you out of trouble." He paused before addressing Akira. "Before I close the shop for the night, I wanted to let you know that your mom called not long ago. I know you're angry with her, but remember, it's your fault that you're in this situation. So don't sulk. Now, hurry up and get some rest. We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow." And with that, Sojiro ended the conversation and headed downstairs.
Feeling the weight of his past actions and the challenges ahead, Akira couldn't help but shed a few tears as he contemplated his new life in Tokyo.