One

I've never used my smartphone camera this way.

Literally knowing nothing about the bunch of settings sprawled all over the screen, I tried my best taking a selfie after exiting the airport.

I've known the zoom and the panorama features but that's about it. If someone were to say use this or that thing, I'd be a wreck trying to figure out if they're still speaking English or some sort of jargon only my sister knew.

Right.

First, I uploaded the first picture I took after touchdown to LIME. It's been a while since the last message. I hope this one found her well, wherever she may be at the moment. Next up, I pulled up my map app and checked where on earth am I on right now.

Tokyo Haneda Airport… and I'm going… this way…

It's around six but the streets were no less different than what I anticipated. It's already full of moving bodies I often wondered why did I even go here in the first place.

‘Go to this address once you're in the vicinity,’ she said. ‘You'll know once you get there,’ she said.

The café I decided to enter for breakfast and a cup of coffee was nice and cozy. I thought I'd hop on the first place to catch my attention but I never expected to hear them playing something familiar.

‘You like it? I'll send my playlist. This artist does comfy tracks…’

A huge truck suddenly obscuring my vision of the tranquil streets brought me back to my half-eaten plate of the breakfast set. Yup. I ate the veggies and the thankfully cute and tiny tomatoes too. Dipping the cookie to my cold latte was a nice finish to wash off the leaves I begrudgingly ate. She'd be angry if she caught me ditching the greens.

Ah, right. To Nerima.

The trip was pleasant since there's nobody minding me on the train ride. There’re not much people on board helping me relax however, being too comfy was a bad idea in itself too as I often got the urge to open the notepad app but, bound by special ‘rules’ for the duration of this trip kept my camera on standby. A shutter moment, she often said. It didn't matter if your settings and composition were messed up. Just press the damn trigger. In a way, I did. It costed me six years though. Six years of wasted effort.

“Next stop…” the intercom announced. I've taken lessons, but my Japanese wasn't perfect. I may have the name, but I can’t understand some words without pulling the translator. Weird, I know, but this wasn’t the age where another continent took months or years to travel.

A passing thought occurred. What if I just covered my ears and tried getting off randomly with only a guess and an adventure in mind? That’d be one disastrous yet interesting adventure. I pulled up my scarf to hide the amused grin on my face. As I entertained the thought, a familiar music could be heard in the distance. Was it the drumming of a thrilled heart? Or the anthem of one who'd embark to the unknown? The words trickled like raindrops hitting the windows. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Tsk. Damn.”

I closed the notepad app, leaving the painting of words I drew out of impulse without any conclusion. The music stopped. The dreamer awoke. Who cares? It'd be a failure anyway. Yet another failure. Always.

Once the dream was over, those who couldn't conform to society lived tougher lives. A higher bar to clear in order to prove something. Some select few treated it an exciting challenge and made something worthwhile—a stable livelihood taking photos for instance, while most of us ended up with nothing but an illusory blanket made of deep, dark, depressing thoughts to keep us warm throughout those sleepless, restless, anxiety-filled nights. Oh, if only dying were that easy.

Photo sent.

A long sigh escaped my lips. I almost got careless I took a dumb picture of my jacket sleeve instead of the marks of the comfort for the weak underneath. I'm grateful sis arranged this trip to a relatively cold time.

Photo deleted.

The time to go to the inn wasn't interesting. I saw my sister's shots of a normal crowd get displayed on exhibits and tried imitating them along the way. Obviously, a professional would look better than someone who wouldn't even use the front camera to fix their appearance. The level gap was astonishingly huge. Don't get me wrong, I'm proud of her, but there's also that… envy.

How do you go to places I can't reach? How do you make the impossible look easy?

“Good day!” A girl wearing a light-peach kimono welcomed me at the inn. My ears picked up some words I'd never hear normally.

“A-A-I made a reservation,” I scrambled to get my smartphone for details when I, for some stupid reason, lost grip and dropped the phone, screen up, with the last picture I took on display.

“Wow,” She wasted no time giving her fake impression. It might be common for the service industry which I held no grudge, but at the moment, I felt my body stiffen with anger.

She gracefully picked up the gadget, exposing her smooth nape from her swept up black hair. “Just look at this crudeness. The light balance is way off, the angle could've been better, there's no actual focus, and the composition is… well—”

I snatched thing away before she could give more unsolicited criticism. Enough is enough. I think sis got it wrong. There's no point in me going by these stupid rules, much less this whole trip! I'll… I'll…

“Ah! You must be that person!” she said, clasping my cold hands with the warmth of her sincerity. “We've been waiting for you, esteemed guest.”

I snicker as I yanked my hand off, or so I hoped. She wasn't applying any force to it but I couldn't seem to break free. “Is this how this inn treats guests? With mockery?”

Her soft “Ah” said it all. She took something back at the reception desk and handed it to me. It's a photograph. An uncanny coincidence that I'm sure would be a memory to reminisce later down the road.

A shot made out of compliance. A boring scenery observed from a train. The windows were stained with dots and lines of raindrops from a gloomy morning drizzle. If not for the weather and some technicalities, a mundane shot might be mistaken for one that's worth ten thousand dollars. There's no denying it. This was one of her famous photos.

A photograph by the artisan Miyazono Akari.

One of the many I imitated from her. From sis.

Once settled into a room, I discussed the other purpose of this trip: to take on an Aoyama Sakura's request which, obviously enough, was her. She served some mild curry for lunch before disappearing. Although she's not too excited on the idea, she made sure it's not because of me but due to work. A small inn only ran by a family of three, Sakura being the only child.

“So,” I began when she returned for the dishes. “What's your request?”

“To spend a day with someone I admire.”

Apparently, she and sis had been friends for a long time. It also saved a lot of time than explaining how someone who looked like a local couldn't utter fluent Japanese. Taking lessons enabled conversation, although being invested enough to actually learn the subtle nuances of something took serious dedication. You could say I'm pretty dedicated with how I stuck to a sinking ship in hopes of continuing a doomed dream. Perhaps I am given I'm here. Or maybe because this was a request I needed to honor regardless of my opinion.

Surprisingly, there’s only a lover aside from me staying at the moment so Sakura was allowed to stay in my room for some stories and souvenirs sis entrusted me with. She listened to me talk about her beloved Akari while she poured me beer. As the alcohol got the better of me, my stories became sillier to the point I even told her some that'd make sis puff her cheeks in both anger and embarrassment. Ah, just imagining it had me in stitches already!

Sakura also seemed to have quite a collection of stories as she seemed to go on and on when I let her begin. The bottles were single-handedly sucked by me since she never indulged my request to join for a glass. Hearing stories from a stranger reinforced the fact that her life had been so impactful to others. Sakura's eyes shone brighter whenever she remembered another story that she'd often drop her current one and switch, as if talking fast enough for a foreigner to understand wasn't enough. I doubt a week's worth of stay would've sufficed.

In her eyes, sis was this perfect, immaculate ray of sunshine bringing joy to her drab life. In my opinion, this repetitive and confined life of hers might be a little boring, suffocating even. A caged bird yearning for something that may or may not be freedom. What could this beautiful bird desire the most from the person she admired?

We broached on the topic of photography at one point. Unfortunately, I was too wasted most of the things we talked about didn't register on my brain. I remembered her showing a polaroid camera and some photos, but the most notable was the time before she cleaned up and left.

“Aoyama-san also studied photography? You seem to know your stuff.”

“Your words are too kind. However, I can't take much credit for the praise. Miyazono-sama was leagues better than I'd ever be.”

“M-hm. True that.”

“Right? When you think about it, it's funny how someone like that could—”

I woke up in a panic, my vision obscured by my disheveled hair. The room was clean. I checked the time. It's already seven.

“And she even fixed a bed,” I sighed, grumbling as my body was sore all over from my awkward sleeping pose. If I've known she made a bed I would've just rolled over until I felt the soft beddings.

In retrospect, I somehow missed this pain.

‘Oh? Crunching for a deadline? You sure work hard.’

‘Shut it. You're ruining my zone.’

‘Bah! To hell with that zone! Just keep mashing your keyboard or pen or whatever you use to write. Just don't stop.’

‘Whatever.’

‘…’

‘What?’

‘Hehe, nevermind. Become the best, 'kay?’

‘Easy for you to say. I'm hanging up.'

Beep.

“Miyazono-sama, I have come as expected.”

I half-expected Sakura to come in plain casual clothes and she did. It's a relief I won't have to deal with people's looks when she's looking this plain, and I meant that as a compliment.

In the beginning, she's being modest, but when I said I'd shoulder most of the expenses if I could (it’s sis’s money after all), she started taking me to all the tourist spots in Tokyo. We had some more conversations and trivia about sis along the way. Of course, I kept taking and sending pictures. Our exchanges went like this:

“Miyazono—Akari-san leaves some of her photos whenever she stayed with us.”

“She's been to a lot of places, yeah. She also sends me stuff.”

“And that's what's amazing about her! But…”

“Hm?”

And another:

“Aoyama-san, I wanna ask something. About last night—”

“These glasses look great on you! Do this pose aaand there!”

"Um..."

"Let's try this shop next!"

Sakura always veered off course whenever she's put on the spot. While I admired her deceptive attentiveness, it's also a convenient tool to deflect unwanted topics. People in the service industry were both amazing and scary.

She's not the only one with worries though. I felt bad for her, especially when she's this easy to be around with. It pained to see her enjoy this trip without knowing all of sis's rules.

The day passed swiftly. With how tired I was with all the walking around, I made sure to take a side by side to compare how haggard I looked from her still untired self. I've never done something as strenuous as a jog in my life and it came to bite me now.

We grabbed dinner under the cherry trees, taking in the scenery while eating convenience store food and booze. When asked about the strange choice, I answered it's something I needed to try if it's the last thing I'd do here.

“I haven't talked or laughed this much in ages,” she said, wiping a tear to one of my stupid anecdotes.

“Goes to show how great sis is in being stupid.”

“Yes,” Then, her composure became different, somber. The liquor must've begun to hit her. "I guess it's time."

A light breeze gently rocked the branches, giving those enjoying the cherry trees a nice petal shower.

“There's this person,” she began, holding the empty can of beer with both hands. “So hardworking yet not forgetting to smile. A very outstanding individual. However, me, being envious of that shining star, asked for a favor. Thus began a lie.”

“Aoyama-san, you…”

She smiled. “The photo I showed you. The one you, unconsciously or not, tried copying. That's mine.”

I was too stunned to react. However, that also gave her time to elaborate on how sis turned that little opportunity into what she was.

Sakura made one thing clear though. She didn't regret her decision. She knew she wouldn't make something out of that chance like how sis did. She's just like me in a sense. A failure who's well aware of their limitations. A dreamer who awoke and called it quits after trying for so long to recapture that feeling of liberty, of fulfilment, of elation of proving the haters wrong. But dreams were dreams. They're meant to be good, fleeting illusions of what could've been had our decisions turned out to be the best ones.

“To be honest,” she continued. “I'm just waiting for the time when Lems magazine had her name featured again. I… sniffle… I'm sorry. I just feel I needed to share this to you…”

I let her cry in silence. There's a bunch of people but nobody cared. It's spring. People only shed tears of joy in this occasion.

But again, we're different.

“You know,” I said once she calmed down. “I'm actually relieved to know you've done something. Otherwise, I'd feel real bad saying this. That sis, Akari won't be able to achieve your hopes and dreams for her. In fact, she'd never will. Anymore.”

I should've noticed it already. No, if that were possible, Sakura would've a long time ago. Sis was just that good a liar. She played us both like a fiddle.

With her actual job a mystery to either of us, sis carried on with the lie perhaps to keep us motivated to persevere. I never once understood why or how she could be so perfect in our eyes when she's surely had her share of failures. She’s also human.

Oh. Unlike us, sis had our weak selves to inspire. She wanted—needed to be that perfect, immaculate being in order to guide us, even if it meant fooling everyone, even herself. Even at the end.

I've never been so ashamed in my life.

At the same time, I've never been so grateful.

Her only worry at the time must've been Sakura who's left alone and hopeful. She, despite on her deathbed, still wanted to do something for her, perhaps push her to try again given she had the talent to make a name for herself.

“When did she…”

“Four months ago. To think she still had the guts to plan a trip and all the prep work and shove me in it with all her rules, even after the doctor informed of her remaining time.”

“A liar and a slave driver."

"That's her alright."

Tears started welling from her eyes again. "How could she... when I didn't even get a chance to apologize for… everything. I—OW!”

I flicked her forehead. “Chin up. She doesn't want us getting all down and sad. It's spring. You and me both, we begin anew.”

“Says the one who have snot all over the face!”

We both laughed. People looked at us silly but we didn't care. Tonight was the first time we could laugh like this after years of being imprisoned by our own weakness.

I took and sent sis perhaps the most important picture of this trip.

***

We lit up an incense and uttered prayers on the last day of my stay. Just as how we admired sis, I also came to like Sakura for being so strong. She confronted the loss with a brave heart while I still mourned even now. Perhaps her name suited her well—a flower that bloomed heralding the arrival of spring, the season of beginnings.

Maybe sis also did this for me, to move forward. Photographs were feelings, and feelings were unuttered, unwritten words. A camera could only capture, and a pen could only release.

"Oh, Miyazono-sama?"

Sakura insisted to see me off until the train station for a confession. Amidst the spring shower of lies, one more remained, she said.

"Do you remember my wish?"

"Shame I couldn't grant it. Maybe if I saved enough I promise—"

She shook her head. "While it's true I admired Akari-san, there's one more. One I only saw in pictures but kept me inspired aside from her. Someone who's really just like me."

The train arrived. Its doors opened. People flooded in. And I, right as the wave of commuters pushed me inside, amidst all the noise and the commotion, still clearly heard her say—