K
Kitti
Guest
Tick tock, tick.
The train was running late. On the platform, a tall and slender man waited alone, checking his wristwatch every few seconds and tapping his foot. Looking up at the terminal sign, which confirmed that the train was by now a full minute behind schedule, the man exhaled sharply through his nose. Though his clothing was nondescript, dark pants and a white shirt, his agitated demeanor and imposing figure earned him a wide berth from the scattered others who were waiting for the same train.
At last, a faint rumbling and hum along the tracks signaled the impending arrival and Sakai Takumi adjusted the black bag slung across his shoulders that carried what few belongings he had chosen to bring with him. As the doors slid open, he pressed through the sparse crowd inside to wedge himself into a seat. Alongside him, an elderly man was studying a newspaper and a woman was engrossed in her phone but Sakai twisted to fix his eyes on the window behind him and watched as the trees and houses rushed past, blurring into rice fields that swayed in the breeze.
Several stops later, the train rattled into a quiet station where no one was even waiting to board. There was no need to double check the name of the stop, it was unmistakable. Getting off the train was far easier now with most of the passengers having dispersed among the more popular stops along the way and Sakai was happier for it. Though the silence was disturbed by the sounds of the train preparing to leave once again, the familiar peacefulness of the countryside seemed to hush the noisy intruder and urge it along its way.
Breathing deeply, Sakai squinted around at the familiar fields surrounding the little wooden platform until the train had continued along its way. Turning his back on the tracks, Sakai followed a path that led around a few wooden houses and finally a bridge that spanned a tranquil distributary of the nearby river. On the other side of the river lay the town, low buildings with a couple of cars here and there parked out front already coming into view.
The buildings were familiar, older than Sakai himself, and for the most part, the shops that filled their bones were also unchanged. Every so often he saw a new name where an old one had disappeared, mostly small businesses that couldn't sustain themselves. The thought crossed his mind again, what if? But the old man had owned the bakery since Sakai's father had been a boy in this town and it was impossible to believe that that had changed.
More likely that one of the town dogs was stealing letters again, or that the old man had misplaced the envelopes that Sakai had sent inquiring about whether he still needed someone to help out in the bakery. Even though Sakai had finished university in a degree that he discovered he couldn't stand, he couldn't imagine that the offer wasn't still open. The old man had been one of few tickled by the little boy's dour attitude, taking him into his shop to satisfy the neverending questions about things like why cakes were bigger than flour . For his patience and kindness, he had remained one of Sakai's favorite people even after his grandparents passed away and visits to the town became few and far between.
The roads that trailed lazily through the town brought him at last to the shopfront that he had longed to see. Tall enough to touch the top of the doorframe, he still felt small climbing up the shallow steps that led to it. Through the slightly hazy filter of nostalgia, it took Sakai until he was up to the door to realise that something was amiss. The wide windows that had once been filled with cakes and breads, mostly western with a sprinkling of more traditional Japanese fare, were now bare. The shelves were empty and the upper ones even looked to have developed a thin layer of dust.
Swallowing hard, Sakai steeled himself for the worst – an endless expanse of silence – and knocked anyway. He wondered if this wasn't actually what he had feared, that he had come despite unanswered calls and letters to prove that his worst suspicions were wrong. Or maybe he'd just been running away with any excuse.
"Hello? It's me, grandfather, Sakai."
The train was running late. On the platform, a tall and slender man waited alone, checking his wristwatch every few seconds and tapping his foot. Looking up at the terminal sign, which confirmed that the train was by now a full minute behind schedule, the man exhaled sharply through his nose. Though his clothing was nondescript, dark pants and a white shirt, his agitated demeanor and imposing figure earned him a wide berth from the scattered others who were waiting for the same train.
At last, a faint rumbling and hum along the tracks signaled the impending arrival and Sakai Takumi adjusted the black bag slung across his shoulders that carried what few belongings he had chosen to bring with him. As the doors slid open, he pressed through the sparse crowd inside to wedge himself into a seat. Alongside him, an elderly man was studying a newspaper and a woman was engrossed in her phone but Sakai twisted to fix his eyes on the window behind him and watched as the trees and houses rushed past, blurring into rice fields that swayed in the breeze.
Several stops later, the train rattled into a quiet station where no one was even waiting to board. There was no need to double check the name of the stop, it was unmistakable. Getting off the train was far easier now with most of the passengers having dispersed among the more popular stops along the way and Sakai was happier for it. Though the silence was disturbed by the sounds of the train preparing to leave once again, the familiar peacefulness of the countryside seemed to hush the noisy intruder and urge it along its way.
Breathing deeply, Sakai squinted around at the familiar fields surrounding the little wooden platform until the train had continued along its way. Turning his back on the tracks, Sakai followed a path that led around a few wooden houses and finally a bridge that spanned a tranquil distributary of the nearby river. On the other side of the river lay the town, low buildings with a couple of cars here and there parked out front already coming into view.
The buildings were familiar, older than Sakai himself, and for the most part, the shops that filled their bones were also unchanged. Every so often he saw a new name where an old one had disappeared, mostly small businesses that couldn't sustain themselves. The thought crossed his mind again, what if? But the old man had owned the bakery since Sakai's father had been a boy in this town and it was impossible to believe that that had changed.
More likely that one of the town dogs was stealing letters again, or that the old man had misplaced the envelopes that Sakai had sent inquiring about whether he still needed someone to help out in the bakery. Even though Sakai had finished university in a degree that he discovered he couldn't stand, he couldn't imagine that the offer wasn't still open. The old man had been one of few tickled by the little boy's dour attitude, taking him into his shop to satisfy the neverending questions about things like why cakes were bigger than flour . For his patience and kindness, he had remained one of Sakai's favorite people even after his grandparents passed away and visits to the town became few and far between.
The roads that trailed lazily through the town brought him at last to the shopfront that he had longed to see. Tall enough to touch the top of the doorframe, he still felt small climbing up the shallow steps that led to it. Through the slightly hazy filter of nostalgia, it took Sakai until he was up to the door to realise that something was amiss. The wide windows that had once been filled with cakes and breads, mostly western with a sprinkling of more traditional Japanese fare, were now bare. The shelves were empty and the upper ones even looked to have developed a thin layer of dust.
Swallowing hard, Sakai steeled himself for the worst – an endless expanse of silence – and knocked anyway. He wondered if this wasn't actually what he had feared, that he had come despite unanswered calls and letters to prove that his worst suspicions were wrong. Or maybe he'd just been running away with any excuse.
"Hello? It's me, grandfather, Sakai."