Tokyo at Twilight

Tokyo. The bustling city full of bright lights, the sounds of traffic and tradition, and colorful people from all walks of life. On hot summer nights, the humid air is filled with the rhythmic tapping of feet on pavement, salarymen and women walking home or to the station, students making their way back from cram school, and tourists from around the world trying to find their way in the vast maze of street signs and unfamiliar people. Even on the quieter streets, the back alleys where only locals choose to roam, the atmosphere is that of the big city, always in constant motion, humming with life as workers head to the izakaya or finally leave the office after a long day.

Kazuki Magaribuchi stepped off the cramped train at Harajuku Station, taking a deep breath as he finally disembarked from the throng of passengers. He held his guitar tightly in his hands, grateful that the train wasn’t so crowded that it would get damaged from the mass of bodies pushing against each other. He pinged his IC card at the gate to the station, making his way towards the west exit. As he walked outside, he felt a rush of warm, muggy air, a far cry from the refreshing breeze he was used to after stepping off the bus back home.

He walked with the crowd, crossing the street in front of the station and entering Yoyogi Park. Already, he saw street performers, musicians, and even cosplayers doing their best to entertain the people that passed by. He gripped his guitar case tighter. This was what he wanted, right? To become a musician, to perform in front of hundreds, no, thousands of people and let his passion shine through in his music. But, now, he found himself growing anxious, his steps slowing down as he made his way farther into the park.

He pushed forward, continuing down the path before him. This was what he wanted. He repeated it in his mind over and over again. He moved to Tokyo for a reason. To the big city, a place brimming with opportunity. And the potential for failure, he reminded himself. No. He shook his head slightly. He couldn’t think like that. Giving up wasn’t an option, and he would pursue his dreams to the bitter end.

He finally stopped in at the gingko trees. Their leaves were painted gold by the light of the setting sun, casting long, lovely shadows across the ground. A soft breeze rustled their branches, and Kazuki immediately felt calm wash over him.

He pulled out his guitar, carefully tuning the strings before beginning to strum a tune. His fingers needed to warm up a bit, getting accustomed to the feeling of playing in an unfamiliar place, similar to home, but not quite. He closed his eyes, feeling the music flow through him, from his center, down his arms and to his fingertips. He thought of the beautiful rice fields of Yoshino, the school on the hill, the smiling komainu of the Tsukiyomi Shrine surrounded by tall trees. The images of his lovely little farming town filled his heart with warmth, until finally, that warmth overflowed within him, and he let out his voice.

It carried through the park, a soft melody full of emotion. A longing for home, a hope for the future, and a determination to succeed. Kazuki sang from his heart, silently dedicating his words to the people of Yoshino, now so far away. He didn’t open his eyes until he finished his song. When he did, his heart nearly skipped a beat.

Standing before him was a young woman with long hair tied back in a yellow ribbon. She wore a matching yellow dress patterned with white daisies and a long skirt down to her ankles. She smiled at him and clapped her hands.

“That was a very nice song,” she said. “Did you write it yourself?”

Kazuki swallowed. He came to Yoyogi Park expecting people to hear his music, but somehow, he felt nervous about everything now. Maybe he wasn’t cut out to be a musician after all.

“Yes,” he finally replied, realizing that perhaps the silence between them had gone on for too long while he was lost in thought and shyness.

“I would love to hear more of your music. Will you play another song?” The woman’s eyes sparkled as she spoke. Her lips remained turned up in a kind smile.

Kazuki averted his gaze for a moment. She wanted to hear another one of his songs? Suddenly, he found it difficult to even think of another song he had written. What should he play? Now that someone was actually watching, would he be able to put his heart into it once more? He glanced at her, his eyes met by her friendly expression.

“I can play another song for you.”

He readjusted his guitar strap on his shoulder, strumming the strings a few times to warm himself up. He cleared his throat then began playing another tune. At first, he found it somewhat difficult to get the music to flow through him again, his thoughts drifting from the comfort of home to his own anxiety and self-doubts about being in Tokyo. He struggled at first, looking at the ground as he tried to regain his composure. His gaze wandered from the ground to the trees, their swaying slightly. Finally, his eyes fell on the woman again, her smile as bright as her dress and the ribbon in her hair.

A sweet melody resonated in his voice and from the strings of his guitar, flying higher into the air like a downy feather carried by the wind. He let the feeling lift his spirit out of the darkness of doubt. He was here for a reason, and this woman was the first person to hear his songs. If he could make even one person happy with his music, then he was already succeeding.

The last note of his song echoed through the trees, followed by a brief silence. Kazuki stared at the woman before him, her hands finally coming together in applause. She beamed at him, glowing in the twilight, her demeanor as bright and flowery as her outfit.

“Bravo!” She cheered. “Thank you for sharing your music with me.”

Kazuki chuckled, feeling a bit sheepish. “Thank you for listening to my songs.”

She nodded, her ponytail bobbing along with her head as she did so.

“What’s your name?” She asked, her eyes gleaming, reflecting the waning sunlight in warm golden hues.

“Magaribuchi. Kazuki Magaribuchi. It’s nice to meet you.” Kazuki bowed.

“Magaribuchi. What a fitting name for an artist. I’m Renka Akahane. It’s a pleasure meeting you too.” She grinned and bowed to him.

Renka Akahane. What a lovely name. Kazuki found himself wondering exactly which kanji she used for her name as well. Renka could be written with the kanji for song or the kanji for love, or even both. A musical name for someone who seemed to appreciate music, even from a nobody like Kazuki. But one day, he was sure he would be somebody.

“You aren’t from Tokyo, are you, Magaribuchi-san?” Renka tilted her head.

Kazuki rubbed the back of his neck. “Is it that obvious?”

Renka giggled, a light, airy sound. “You used Oita-ben in one of your songs.”

Kazuki’s eyes widened. “You know about Oita?” He was shocked she knew what the dialect of his home prefecture sounded like. It wasn’t very common for people to pinpoint Oita-ben. But, maybe she also wasn’t from Tokyo? It was difficult to tell without speaking colloquially with each other.

“Of course. Oita is famous for hot springs. And I think there is a famous mangaka from Oita as well. Plus, I think the dialect is cute.” Renka explained, tapping a finger with each point she made.

“I’m glad you think so. And, you’re right. I am from Oita Prefecture. I lived in a small town called Yoshino. I just moved to Tokyo, but I’m still getting used to it, I think.”

“Well, I’m happy you decided to come share your music in the park. Would you like to exchange LINE? I can help you if you need anything here. I don’t mind giving you tips or suggestions of places to go, and you can tell me when you’ll come to Yoyogi to play your music again!”

Kazuki blinked. He hadn’t expected the first person he met, the first person who listened to his songs outside of Yoshino, to be so open and friendly right away. He hesitated a moment before pulling his phone out of his pocket. Renka did the same, opening the messaging app and adding Kazuki to her contacts with his QR code.

“Great!” She put her phone away. “I have to go now, but I’ll send you a message later! Please feel free to contact me any time!” She waved and walked down the path, away from Kazuki and the gingko trees.

Kazuki stood dumbfounded, the image of Renka burnt into his mind. She seemed like such a sweet person, and best of all, she enjoyed his music. His chest tightened at the thought. Someone had enjoyed his songs, the pieces he’d poured his heart and soul into writing and playing. It filled him with a new sense of hope for his life in Tokyo. One step at a time, he would continue to share his music with the world.

After Renka left, Kazuki continued playing his guitar, his songs more hopeful and light. He played until long after the sun set beyond the horizon and the lights lining the pathways in the park turned on. A few more people passing by stopped to listen to him, some throwing him a few hundred yen here and there. He wasn’t interested in the money though, he only wanted to see people’s smiling faces as they heard his songs.

When the number of passersby dwindled, Kazuki packed up his guitar and made his way back to Harajuku Station. He scanned his IC card at the gate and hopped onto the next train home. Once he got back to his quiet little apartment, he finally looked at his phone. There was one message on LINE.

He tapped on the app. One new message from Renka Akahane. Now he saw the kanji for her name: 恋歌. It was just as he thought, comprised of the kanji for love and song. He smiled to himself and opened her message.

‘Hi, Magaribuchi-san! I enjoyed your music today! I hope you like Tokyo. Please contact me if you have any questions. Maybe we can have coffee sometime too! I’ll look forward to it!’

Kazuki typed a message back.

‘Thank you. It was nice meeting you. Coffee sounds nice. See you around!’

He pressed send. He didn’t even like coffee that much, but it would be nice to chat more with Renka. He looked at the clock. It was already midnight. Time went by so fast at the park. He yawned and quickly got ready for bed. He checked his phone one last time before sleeping. Renka had replied.

‘How about tomorrow afternoon? I’ll send you the location of a nice coffee shop!’

Tomorrow, huh? Kazuki replied ‘yes’ and turned off his phone for the night. He closed his eyes, thinking back on the day, the golden sunset, the memories of home, the people smiling at his music. Soon, he fell into a peaceful, hopeful sleep.