Writer’s Note: This is a short story inspired by my travels in Japan on Shinkansen rides, the Jake Gyllenhaal classic, Source Code, and a tiny bit of Black Mirror. I thoroughly enjoyed writing this piece and am planning on developing more chapters.
Please let me know if you liked my work and want more of this!
Chapter 1—Tokyo Bound
"Ehemm, tickets, please."
I jolted in response as the uniformed man shot me a stern look. A chuckle escaped from the lady on my right as I wiped the drool from my collar. I sure hoped she hadn't noticed.
"Yes, of course," I replied confidently in passable Japanese, relieved that my 40 hours of revision had paid off.
Mildly disoriented, I fumbled in my pockets for the one object that would not get me thrown off the train. I pulled out a light green piece of paper marked with "東京"—actually, two of them. It's strange in Japan.
"Please follow me, sir", requested the conductor, his expression neutral. I held my breath and conjured up a million and one worst-case scenarios. This can't be right, I've done everything by the book.
He gestured again, more insistently this time. I'm sure it's nothing. I followed the stocky man to the carriage ahead. I might've swallowed a tiny gulp of fear.
The doors opened to a brighter compartment. The walls are baby blue, adorned with posters of what seems to be a uniformed animal. Oh, Japan.
He directed me to an empty row. "This seat will be available from the next stop; I had to move you as the one you were on was already reserved.¹"
I gave the conductor a courteous bow as he strode away. That was close. Safe to say, nothing's been disrupted. But why does his voice sound so familiar?
I grunted as I shoved my luggage up the overhead compartment. Hands-free, I caught my scrawny reflection in the mirror. Suit and tie, drool-filled collar, topknot hair. I was a salaryman this time. Neat.
Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.
I glanced at my Casio watch—black rubber strap, bomb-proof². The beaten-up display read 1:45. No time to lose.
I looked leftwards at a sophisticated woman in a tailored blazer—a pink handbag with a flamingo charm, negative. I craned my neck towards the older man in a rumpled jacket; he was sound asleep. These restless teenagers behind me don't look the part either.
I proceeded down the aisle, scanning the surrounding passengers as I anxiously fidgeted with my hands. Bento boxes, magazines, tablets. Not exactly what I was looking for.
Entering the private cabin section, a door unsettlingly creaked open ahead of me. I gave its insides a curious peek and found a plump-faced youth with fuzzy eyes greeting me with a raised fist.
"They close by?" I questioned. She gave me a curt nod.
"Everything's in place then?" I asked. She winked back. I mouthed a thank you and hurried off.
Two rows down, I spotted a couple. An exact match from the description. As I approached cautiously, I peered over the man's shoulder and saw it.
There it was, in all its glory—wrapped in a thick seaweed, with rice as fresh as if harvested that morning—I saw it all right. All this time, all the suffering generations had to bear for... an onigiri.
I crept closer, feeling my blood pumping through my veins. The pounding of my heart was now unmistakable. It's within arm's reach. All I have to do is...
"You know, Ren, chase all you want. In the end, it’s the darkness that consumes us all."
Wait, I know that voice… A different time… A different place…
In an instant, the lights went out, and my world collapsed. My body crumpled to the ground like a marionette with its taut strings severed.
As my visions faded, all I could hear was the distant, mocking laughter of the conductor echoing into oblivion.
Footnotes
¹ This happened to me when I was onboard a train to Tokyo. On trains with both reserved and unreserved seats, passengers with unreserved seat tickets are required to find a seat in the designated unreserved areas on a first-come, first-served basis. I got lucky as I chanced upon a helpful conductor that day.
² Casio F91Ws. They really are.
your storytelling is so very full of life - excited for more