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I’ll Wait For You At The Train Station
Chapter 2 - Part 7: Forgotten Pasts

Chapter 2 - Part 7: Forgotten Pasts

I remembered the time we had our family day. I considered it to be a rare event, so I’d like to do my best to make it more special. Matsuri was seven years old, me, on the other hand, was seventeen. Yup, our age difference was a decade apart.

We went to the amusement park and enjoyed the whole day. The ride that Matsuri loved most was the carousel. She was so happy riding with Dad, dreaming that she was a princess in a noble horse. The truth was, she insisted me to ride with her, but I refused because of embarrassment. Heck, riding that kiddy ride looks uncool. Dad took over and I was glad that Matsuri was still happy.

At that time, I remembered Dad challenging me to ride the roller coaster. I answered “no” over and over. Yet, after Matsuri said that she wanted to see her brave big brother conquer his fears, I muster up my courage and accepted. It might be a desperate display of bravado, but once I overcome it, deep inside me was a person who was glad that have accepted the challenge.

Dad told me to be more than I could be. He was challenging me in the fields that I was weak most.

I see; that was his intention all the time. Me taking over his business was supposed to be on the same scope.

At that time, I didn’t comprehend it. I jumped into the conclusion that he was forcing me to do things that he wants. When I answered “no” to him, he was the first to understand me. He let me seek my own skills and interests, despite that, I ended up being a failure. I lost the bet in life.

That was why in my second chance I must do my best. I have to work hard from now on, not just to correct my mistakes, but also to find meaning.

This wasn’t my end. I wouldn’t let it be.

My eyes opened as I woke up from that dream.

I smiled to myself.

I never thought that I could obtain this positive outlook in life. It really was ironic that my head trauma turned me into a much better person.

It was Monday; gotta make this day productive. I get up from my bed to see the genuine smile on my face. When I look at the mirror nowadays, my reflection was a lot presentable.

Opening the door, I walked downstairs, then I crossed Matsuri. She dropped her gaze and ignored me, heading to the dining area. I was heading in the same direction when I passed Mom. She was carrying the laundry.

“Yasuhiro, what’s your plan today?”

“The same. Gotta find an available job.”

“Do your best, my son.” Mom smiled at me and went to the direction where our washing machine was placed.

Upon coming to the dining area, I was astonished by Matsuri.

She prepared me a coffee.

“Here.”

I stopped from my tracks, still couldn’t believe what I saw.

“Is it really that surprising?” She said, then she added, “I’ll leave this here.”

She went to the living room with a sliced bread -pasted with jam- on her hand. She passed through me as I focused on looking at her. Her action was too odd; hence, I still want to show my gratitude.

“Thank you, Matsuri.”

She stopped as I looked back at her. She nodded and answered, “Do your best, Big Brother.” Then proceed to the living room and had a seat at the couch.

I nodded at her for being sympathetic. Yesterday, I think she comprehended my personal struggles. Inside that Ferris wheel where I confessed the truth about my weakness, she understood to herself how my life had been miserable.

You see, it isn’t about how terrible the problem is, it’s about how strong the pain tolerance of the victim has. I was a weak person. I accept that. However, I wouldn’t let it end that way. Life continues, so is my fight.

I took the cup of coffee that Matsuri prepared. I gave it a drink and was satisfied by the taste. When did she learn the blend of coffee that I prefer?

Thanks again. I said in my thoughts while smiling at her from behind.

My eyes snapped opened as I recalled a significant memory. Matsuri was born on the day of the summer festival. That was where my parents got her name. On the day she was born was also the first time I didn’t spend the festival with Mom and Dad. I was a kid at that time, and I remembered myself staring at the fireworks display from a distance, alone in my room. I was feeling lonely and worried that my parent’s attention would be focused on Matsuri from now on.

When she arrived at home for the first time, I didn’t even attempt to look at her.

The fragments of memories that I stored, I finally remembered it. I envied Matsuri, that was the reason why Dad took me to the amusement park. On that day, he played the role of a Big Brother. I found him cool, inspiring, and mature. That was when he told me to be like him. A grown-up man who cares and understands -a role model to his little sister.

I broke my promise to him, didn’t I? Could I still restore that role?

After a few minutes of preparations, I went out of the house. Matsuri went to school first. Today, I planned to apply to the convenience store nearby, then to the traffic control office. Those two jobs were my last resort.

Last resort? Why did I say that? Doesn’t that mean I’d quit once I was still not accepted on the two? No, I’d try to find another way.

For now, I sent the basic requirements, and then I’d wait for their call. It took me hours to send those, part of it was waiting, and the other was the long distance between the two locations.

Done with today’s priority, I walked around the city. Aiming for no direction, I couldn’t think of a place for a good time. Maybe, doing this once in a while wasn’t bad. I remembered my days in high school. It has been like this. Whenever I skip classes, I just walked around aimlessly. I have always been empty, and I was desperate in seeking legitimate happiness and satisfaction.

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I often worry about the miserable future ahead of me; and whenever I see students of my age who wasn’t serious about their life -like those who play video games all the time, and those who hurt other people for no reason thinking that what they did was a cool thing- I hated them.

A part of me hated them, but the truth was that I envy them. I could watch comedy shows for the entire day and laugh, but that wasn’t happiness. I could play video games all day, but that wasn’t happiness. It was nothing but a distraction. I envy those people who do nothing special but lives a common eventless life. They don’t give a damn to anything that happens, and it was through the fact that they don’t care -they could overcome problems.

Me, on the other hand, was bound to be the boss of a company. Unfortunately, pressure killed me before I commence. When I tried, I failed. When I seek for other interest, I still failed. The old me, if it was possible to send him a message, the first things that I’d write would be this: “Don’t worry, don’t hesitate, and be grateful of what you already have”.

Because right now, the least source you have left would be lesser. At the same time, I’d tell you this… even if you fell, you’d be given a second chance to fight back. At that moment you would stop worrying about your future. You’d realize how essential death was to people. Because after you wake up from a coma, you’d see the other side of the world. The brighter, crucial side of it.

Dad always told me that I was a smart person. When I was a kid, I often get top grades. However, when high school started, I thought that I was also getting closer to the responsibilities that I don’t want. I thought of Dad’s job as boring work. I imagined myself getting up over the same cycle.

That was the time I became rebellious and decided to skip class. They said that smart people always have a tendency to overthink. Intelligence quotient and emotional quotient was different, after all. I may excel in my studies, despite that, I couldn’t handle pressure and anxiety. Heck, I didn’t know that I have depression on those days.

I denied calling it depression because of pride. I denied to myself that I was weak. When I became suicidal, everything changed. It was a different form of consent. I accepted my irrelevant existence and was ready to jump towards the fast train. It was all thanks to Ayase-san that I was alive today. If she didn’t interfere and given me hope on the following day, I would’ve been buried for a long time now.

I heaved a sigh.

“Guess it’s time to go home, I can’t think of any place to go anyway.”

I walked home and opened the gate. Once I entered the house I said, “I’m home.”

From the kitchen, Mom responded, “Welcome back.” When I saw her washing the dishes, she stared at me and added, “How is it?”

“It’s fine. I’ll just wait for their call.”

“I see. Nothing else to do today?”

“None so far.”

“Great, can you help me clean the attic?” She smiled at me.

“Of course, no problem. I’ll do it on my own.”

“Thank you, Yasuhiro.”

I nodded.

“I’ll do it right now.”

“Off you go.” She replied while smiling.

I headed upstairs to the attic. Clouds of dust welcomed me as I retreated quickly. I forgot to bring cleaning tools. Was I excited? To clean? I went down to get the cleaning equipment. I brought a mop, a pail with a little amount of water, a rug, and a few boxes for sorting out items.

I wiped off the specks of dust first, but after I saw a few items on the box on my left, I was distracted. Those were Dad’s CD collections of old classic western music. When he was on his twenties, he had the opportunity to study and work abroad. That was the reason why he also carried western music culture. He was a big fan of John Lennon and The Beatles in general. I see plenty of his albums inside the box. Aside of it, there were also artists like Billy Joel[1], Cat Stevens[2], Dan Fogelberg[3], Bob Dylan[4], Kenny Rogers[5] and Don Williams[6].

Whenever he played those songs when I was a kid, I remembered myself covering my ears at my best. I dislike songs that weren’t in my generation, and I also couldn’t understand its English lyrics. Of course, for me, it’d sound peculiar. A kid’s taste in music would differ from an adult. It all varies from generation to generation.

Under the boxes of CDs, there was a player. I took it out and removed the dust, and along with it was my coughing. This was the same CD player that Dad used before. I wonder if this still works. Now that I think about it, why did Dad store his personal collections in the attic? He may have been busier with his company. He worked harder since Matsuri was born. In other words, he sacrificed his time for amusement so that his children would have a better future. His hard work was all for us.

Damn it, this just made me guiltier to myself. I shook my head in denial and squeezed my face. My attention span was so easy to break.

“I’m distracted again. I’ve got to clean this all up.”

I did my best to focus on cleaning. Thanks to my caretaking job at Tetsuya-san’s mansion, cleaning the attic wasn’t a hassle. I didn’t get tired of it, in fact, I could ask for more.

At that moment, I saw a picture book. It belonged to Matsuri. The title of the book was “Knight and the Princess”. From all stories that Mom bought her, that book was her favorite. It tells a story of a princess locked in the tower, and one day she was saved by a knight. It was pretty much a rip-off of either Rapunzel[7] or the movie Shrek[8]. But who cares, anyway, she loved it so much to the point that she illustrated her own version.

I remembered; she used to be interested in drawing. I wonder if she still draws today.

“Got it.”

On the same box where the picture book was placed, there were Matsuri’s illustrations. It was a fancy illustration like a kid commonly produce. Variations of crayons and a story that leads to a happy end. It was no doubt an easy life for those characters. For sure if I show this to Matsuri, she’d glare at me in annoyance.

When I was done, I walked back to see the entire clean space. No present dust, a clean floor wherein you could see a bit of reflection, and organized things and boxes. The place would’ve been sparkling if this was an anime.

I returned the cleaning tools to the right place where it belongs, and then carried the box of CDs along with the player to my room. Weird enough, I brought Matsuri’s illustrations and picture book along with it. I hope the CD player works fine, or else I couldn’t play my Dad’s favorite songs. I plugged it on the outlet and pressed the power button. Light shone around the disc port, a sign that power was present.

After pressing the open button, I placed the disc. I picked a random one, and it happens to be the music of Cat Stevens.

The first song that played was “Wild World”[9].

♪ Now that I’ve lost everything to you ♪

Listening to it brings chills of nostalgia. I don’t exactly know why you’d feel great whenever you hear a song you don’t play for a long time. You’d smile without knowing it. Perhaps because you’d think of the past and feel relieved that such a good memory existed in your life. You’d recall the simple times where you don’t have problems. Does that mean, your past was better than your present? You’d arrive at the point of wishing that you could return to those good old days because, on that phase of your life, you weren’t thinking of anything else but trivial problems of an innocent kid.

You’d remember yourself crying over the simplest problems as if there was no solution to it. You’d worry about going to school or not. You’d feel bad over a single defeat in a video game. Yes. The good old days may be surrounded with problems that our past self could overreact to, but at least those problems were something that you could laugh or smile at by the present you.

I pondered; when I grow older, could I consider my present problems as something trivial? Wish my future self could also treat my problems as a laughingstock.

The second song hit me to the core. The title was “Father and Son”.[10] It was one of Dad’s favorite songs and he often sings it to me; telling the story of his patience and hard work. I didn’t understand the song’s meaning when I was a kid. But now, it was different. My eyes widened as I understood the lyrics. The lyrics that spoke the truth in life. Our life.

Yes, there’s so much I have to know.

Yes, it’s not easy to be calm when you find something going on.

Yes, I’m still here tomorrow, but my dreams may not.

The song talked about the point of view of two people. And my entire life reflected it. Soon, I too, have to go away, but I don't know where. I don't have a specific destination.

♪ It’s hard but it’s harder to ignore it ♪

When the song was done, I replayed it over and over. I listened to the same song five times in a row, and then played the rest of Cat Steven’s music. The once empty and quiet room was filled with nostalgic old songs that Dad would appreciate most.

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