Their Meeting

The dim lights, timidly covering the small streets of a non central area of Tokyo, barely revealed the presence of a young man leaving a restaurant, unsatisfied.

“Thanks for coming, young man!” An old lady thanked him for his visit, a visit he unfortunately found unremarkable. He didn’t reciprocate with any words, signals, or emotions as he gently closed the door and walked away.

The young man let out a subtle sigh, and then he inhaled the sweltering, heavy and humid air of the Tokyo summers. As he walked away, the aroma of the charcoal grilled eel restaurant stayed behind. He headed towards a river that was hardly perceptible due to the old, sparse lights that struggled to illuminate it. It was a soulless river trapped in a channel, its natural beauty contained between walls, fitting for the big city. The Sakura that lined the river carried rich, dark green summer leaves, and none of their pink spring beauty remained.

He leaned onto the guardrail that lined the river and looked up into the sky, seemingly starless, polluted by the lights of the city. Only the lone Moon shone weakly over his head. The sounds of the people, the bicycles, their bells, and the hum of the occasional car all blended together as they would in any other part of the city. Nothing seemed to stand out as this everyday scene unfolded in front of his eyes. However, he failed to realize that this was an ordinary place for an extraordinary meeting.

Blended in the commonplace sounds of the city, he heard a voice, faint like a hum, singing along, blurred into the environment. He looked at his phone to check the time, and decided to investigate the sound out of boredom. He realized the sound was coming from a girl singing in a park, hidden by a small building beside it. The park was small, about the size of a large car, tucked between a small apartment building and a house. He managed to find a bridge to cross the river and headed towards the park and then leaned on a wall, out of sight, next to it.

He listened to the girl sing for a bit, strumming along with her guitar. She sang with a faint voice, as if trying not to be heard, despite being in public. He couldn’t help but sigh. He had witnessed dreams like hers turn into nightmares. Her voice didn’t stand out in any way, her guitar often lost its rhythm, and she made mistakes as she played and sang. Yet she kept going, and because she did, he did as well.

He contemplated for a moment leaving a coin for this strange street musician, but he rarely carried coins. He stood by, out of sight, listening to the lyrics being sung into the night. He couldn’t figure out what song it was. The unknown song, fumbling into the air, fueled his curiosity.

He decided to take a look before leaving. The sight startled him, as a girl, thin, perhaps even scrawny, sat in front of him. The strange girl, somewhat covered in sweat, with a loose and messy side ponytail, kept singing into the lonely night. She was strumming away on a pale wooden acoustic guitar, cracked from use, or misuse. She sat barefoot, probably to fend off the summer heat. She was wearing a school uniform, and when he realized this, he looked away.

The park itself was also not a cheerful sight. It was small, probably a leftover from neighboring constructions. Though well maintained, the bushes and vines formed walls around the park, muffling most of the sound that came in and out of it. A lone Sakura tree stood in the middle, weakly supported by small wooden structures. A utility pole invaded the small natural scenery and finally, a minuscule, unused slide that might’ve seen children play with it once upon a time.

His curiosity had led him to this park, a sight he found extremely pitiful. The girl was the last element of the park, breathing life into it, but not a happy one. Her broken guitar filled him with sadness. He thought twice about leaving money to what he thought was a street musician. Contributing to a girl with seemingly no future like her would perhaps be worse than simply walking away. In the heat of the moment however, full of guilt, he left a 10,000 yen bill in her guitar case, and quickly tried to walk away.

“Hey,” said the girl, who had somehow managed to slip past him and block his way.

“I’m not doing this...” She held the money he left in her case on one hand, and pointed at it with her other hand, “for this,” she said unhappily. He was startled for a brief moment by her speed, but then immediately went back to a neutral expression.

“I didn’t leave that there,” he said nonchalantly, as he tried to walk through her side. She continued to block him with her arms held to her sides.

“Yeah, well...” She looked away, somewhat embarrassed. “Nobody around here does this kind of thing, so I know it must be you.”

“You got the wrong person,” he said, as he pushed past one of her arms.

He couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of her as he walked past. She had large, expressive eyes, highlighted further by the light brown of her irises. The sadness coming from those eyes made him stop abruptly.

“Can I escort you home? It’s a little late for someone your age…” he said, with little emotion in his voice.

The girl, who was seemingly sad moments earlier, burst out in laughter before he could finish his sentence.

“Now I know you’re really not from around here…” the girl said, as she composed herself from her laughter. “I’m an adult, don’t worry. I can take care of myself.” Her words seemed at odds with his initial impressions.

“Then why are you dressed like…” he asked, as he hinted towards her school uniform.

“To be honest,” she said, trying to hold her laughter, “people leave me alone when they see me like this, even with no school around here,” she said proudly. Aoi had gone through a similar reaction, so he knew she was right. She then added, “it’s also nice for the summer months.” Her added explanation made him even more confused than he initially was. Noticing his puzzled expression, she tried to change the subject. “I’m Mika, who are you, stranger?”

Aoi hesitated in revealing his name to her, but, realizing where he was, deemed it harmless, “I’m Aoi.”