New life

To say life has been difficult wouldn’t feel right. But things have definitely changed since I arrived in Yokohama. My Japanese still traps me in absurd situations more often than not. And honestly, I miss the simplicity of my life back in California. I didn’t leave behind any close friends or a girlfriend or anything like that. It was just easier not having to think so hard before speaking.

Life here isn’t so different—except that even the basics feel like puzzles. Still, I was lucky. Early on, I met a kind lady who runs a small local flower shop. She offered me a part-time job helping out—watering plants, tidying the shelves, doing little things here and there. It was peaceful. Perfect, actually. I thought it’d be the ideal way to pass the time during my temporary stay in Japan.

...Well, that’s what I thought.

As Daniel stepped into the flower shop that evening, he was greeted by a scene that looked like a sumo match in progress. The kind old woman who ran the place stood locked in a standoff with a girl with cotton candy pink hair, the two of them posturing dramatically like rival wrestlers.

Before Daniel could say a word, a drink on the counter was caught in their whirlwind and went flying—right toward him.

The can burst open as it hit him, splattering his shirt and catching the girls’ attention. The pink-haired girl looked up at him, her gaze slowly rising from his belly to his forehead, before she suddenly got knocked down like a cartoon character getting flattened by fate.

The shopkeeper chuckled. “Oh, Daniel-san! My apologies. My granddaughter and I were having a little... disagreement.”

Daniel looked as if a sheep had suddenly turned into a wolf. He blinked, confused, and tried to change the subject. “It’s fine,” he replied instinctively.

The girl stood up and wordlessly tossed him a towel. As he wiped himself off, she eyed him with quiet curiosity. She’d heard from her grandmother that a new transfer student from America was coming. She hadn’t expected him to be Black—and tall, too.

Daniel tried to play it cool, walking over to the counter as the grandmother handed him his apron. As he started organizing the flower arrangements and sweeping up petals, he stole a glance at the girl. She was sitting with a popsicle, lazily watching him with the air of a scientist observing a new species.

By 6 p.m., closing time rolled around. Daniel had slipped off his apron and was about to leave when he heard her voice.

“Daniel-san.”

He turned around.

“My name’s Aioi Komori,” she said, giving a small, awkward bow.

Daniel returned the bow. “I’m Daniel. Nice to meet you.”

Aioi’s eyes glimmered. This was her moment.

With her grandmother in the back, she launched into a rapid-fire speech in Japanese. Daniel tried to follow but got lost fast. He caught a few familiar words—“free,” “animals,” maybe “club”? Then she pulled something from her bag and flashed it in his face.

A clipboard?

He caught sight of a pen, a form, and some doodles of bunnies and recycling logos. Assuming it was a petition, and feeling cornered, he signed it without thinking too hard.

Aioi’s grin lit up her whole face. “Thanks so much! See you at the club!”

Before he could ask what that meant, she slung her bag over her shoulder and bounded out of the shop.

Daniel stood frozen. Club?

The shopkeeper emerged from the back with a knowing smile. “You’ve just made her day.”

Daniel rubbed his neck. “I think I just joined something.”

Though today marked the start of Daniel's new journey as a second-year student in Japan, his morning went about as usual.

His school was just a five-minute walk from Kanazawa-Bunko Station on the Keikyū Main Line. Including the train ride from Yokohama Station, his total commute was around twenty-five minutes. He got out of bed, stretched, and went to the kitchen to boil water in his kettle. Then came brushing his teeth and preparing the same bland breakfast he had every day: a slice of toast topped with a sunny-side-up egg, and a cup of black coffee.

It was April—the start of a new school semester—and he put on his uniform with careful precision. Blazer buttoned, tie knotted perfectly, slacks fitted just right. After slipping on his black loafers, he stepped out into the morning chill.

On the train, he quickly learned that “rush hour” in Japan was no joke. Compared to California, where public transportation was sparse and chaotic, this was an organized chaos. Clean. Punctual. But undeniably cramped.

Currently, he was being pressed between two older men in front and an elderly woman behind. He could barely move. As he tried to remain calm, he heard faint murmurs to his left.

That’s when he noticed a girl beside him. She had messy, chin-length blond hair and wide, expressive black eyes. She looked down, mumbling something, biting her nails nervously. Then she glanced up and froze when she caught Daniel looking at her.

Her gaze darted away. “It has to be you... the transfer student,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.

Daniel blinked. “Huh?”

She bit her lip, avoiding eye contact, and reached out awkwardly with her other hand. “Hello. I’m Karuizawa Sakura. Nice to meet you.”

Her voice was soft, her words a little rushed. Despite her odd mannerisms, there was something striking about her—something that lingered in the way she observed people and clutched her bag like it contained secrets worth protecting.

Before Daniel could respond properly, the train arrived at the station. Students spilled out. Sakura practically vanished into the crowd.

Outside the classroom, Daniel met his homeroom teacher, who looked like he walked out of a lounge bar rather than a school. Late 20s, maybe early 30s. Shirt collar unbuttoned. Hair slightly tousled. A cocky grin plastered across his face.

Was he a teacher… or a host?

“Yo. You must be Daniel. I’m your homeroom teacher, Kuramochi-sensei. Cool to have you on board,” he said in casual Japanese.

Daniel forced a nod. “Thank you… sensei.”

The class introduction came next. Predictably awkward.

He stumbled through a few rehearsed lines of Japanese. There were polite claps, a few curious stares. But before the awkwardness could stretch further, the bell rang and class began.

Lunchtime came with another surprise.

As Daniel wandered through the halls, trying to figure out where people usually ate, he spotted a familiar head of messy blond hair leaning against a vending machine. Sakura was there, crouched low and scribbling something in a small, worn notebook.

She noticed him before he had the chance to say anything.

“You’re in the Environment Club,” she said without looking up.

Daniel blinked. “I’m what?”

She pulled a clipboard from her bag and held it up like it was a search warrant. His signature was right there in bold.

He leaned in. “Wait, hold on—that wasn’t… wasn’t that a petition?”

“No,” she said plainly. “It was a sign-up form. Aoi told you, right?”

Daniel thought back to yesterday, to the chaos, to the grandmother, to the paper Aoi waved in his face between rapid-fire explanations and bubble tea comparisons.

“…She said something about the environment. I thought it was just… like, support.”

“You signed under the section that says ‘I agree to join.’”

His eyes widened. “She tricked me.”

Sakura finally looked up, her gaze shifting just past him instead of meeting his eyes. “She does that.”

Daniel sighed, rubbing his face. “So what, I’m stuck now?”

“You already signed.” She paused. “But you can quit. If you want.”

There was something unreadable in her voice. Not pressure—just a quiet curiosity, like she was collecting data on his answer.

“…Guess I’ll come by. Just to check it out,” he muttered.

She wrote something down. “After school. Club room 2B.”

Then she walked away, hugging her notebook to her chest, her steps light but a little uneven—like she was thinking too hard about how to walk normally.

After school, Daniel followed her instructions and found himself in front of a room with a hand-painted sign that read Save the Earth.

He slid the door open—just in time to see Aoi leap off a folding chair while trying to pin a poster to the wall. She slipped, smacked her forehead on the frame, and stumbled back.

“Gah—!”

She twirled around like nothing happened, slapped on a big grin, stuck her tongue out to the side, and flashed a peace sign like she just finished a concert.

“Oh! You’re the guy from the flower shop!”

Daniel blinked.

She threw her hands up and said “ Welcome to are club” in broken english

He stood their confused” What club?”

She put her hand on her chin and gave a smug smile. “ We are the environmental science club “

Daniel started. “You gave me a form while talking fast japanese.”

“Exactly! It was the perfect moment.”

Sakura walked in behind him and muttered, “He fell for it,” while jotting something down again.

Daniel looked between them—Aoi still halfway on the chair, Sakura writing in her notebook like a quiet journalist.

He sighed. “What does this club do?”

Aoi grinned. “It’s a place where you save the planet by making this school a more eco friendly place”

Sakura looked up. “We collect data on local plant species. And monitor trash disposal violations in school.”

Daniel exhaled slowly. “What did I sign up for…”