Train Ride to Kyushu - A Sleep Story
Summary
Characters
Storms hovered over Nonogawa for the third day in a row, announcing the official arrival of the rainy season. Suzu was tucked into her futon with just a light cover for a blanket. The patter on the tile roof lulled her almost into sleep's gentle grasp when she received a text from Tatsuya.
Miss you. Can't sleep.
You haven't slept well for days. I'm worried about you. Have you tried meditating?
Yeah. Didn't help, 'cause everything that could go wrong keeps cycling in my head. I can't get my brain to shut the hell up.
No.
No response for several minutes. She blew out a breath. Why did Tatsu have to be so stubborn?
I'll call you on Hoji's app.
It's late. I'll cope. You need your rest. Now especially.
Won't be able to sleep 'cause I'm worried about you, Baka. Suzu hit the call button on the VPN and magic enhanced app. It rang a few times. When Tatsuya answered, his words came slowly and were a bit slurred. "Su-chan, I'm fine. I've done jobs on less sleep." Red flag! "But they didn't require as much concentration or magic," she countered. He growled. "I wouldn't say that..." "Let me tell you a story." "You're going to tell me, anyway." She chuckled as she put the call on speaker. Using kotodama enhanced magic, she added a soothing spell to her words and pressed record. "Shh... just listen. Remember that trip in February? We were headed to Fukuoka but weren't allowed to use portals." "Uh-huh."
I was nervous about navigating Tokyo Station, because it was huge. You squeezed my hand as you admitted you got lost there a few times, too, and reminded me we were getting on the Shinkansen at Shinagawa, which was much smaller, and switching trains at the tiny Shin-Kobe station. It'd be cake and we might just see Mt. Fuji, if the clouds would clear for us.
We stopped at a shrine quick to pray for fortune and safety for our tasks ahead, then bought cute matching amulets for our cellphones.
The Yamanote Line ferried us from Kabukicho as it looped around the Tokyo area. We arrived in Shinagawa in only eight stops, about fifteen minutes. It was crowded, but that was normal in the mornings since it was still rush hour.
Most of the flow in the station was the opposite direction, heading to the Yamanote Line. But you were like a pro-skater gliding on an ice rink, weaving past the rush of bodies and guiding me, so I didn't even bump into anyone as we beelined it to the machine with the shortest line.
It'd been a long time since I'd booked a Shinkansen ticket. I could have figured it out, but you zipped through the menus, finding the seats with the windows facing inland so we could see the countryside and maybe Mt. Fuji. You even spoiled me with a Green Car ticket, saying it would be more quiet and you wanted to treat me to a bit of luxury for a long six-hour trip. I'd never ridden in the Green cars before. My cheeks warmed, and I covered my grin. It must have been the reward you'd been seeking, because you flashed a rare smile in return.
After reserving our seats, we wandered through the station's ECute shopping area to pick out our bentos to eat on the train. I thought we should get different kinds and share. But we ended up wanting to get the same variety, the one they just put in the case. The time stamp on them said two minutes before we picked them out. They looked so fresh and smelled amazing. We hadn't eaten breakfast. You wanted to dig into it right away. But I talked you into grabbing pastries at the bakery around the corner, instead.
You humored me, saying there was just time to stop at a stationery store that carried my favorite notebooks. We rode the escalator to the top floor and you didn't hurry me as I searched for the style I'd been hunting for months. The store had so many to choose from! Finally, I found the Rollbahn one with a brilliant comet on the cover.
After making the purchase, I had to scurry to keep up as you strode toward the Shinkansen platforms. We put our tickets in the gate machines, passed through and collected them on the other side. Checking the time showed we'd make it if we didn't dally. Your shoulders relaxed and your steps slowed enough for me to match your pace. I hugged my notebook to my chest as we rode the escalator down to platform fourteen.
There weren't as many people as I would have expected, and even fewer at the gate with the pretty green stripe designating our car. We picked the line to the right of the door, and you quietly teased that it was the lucky side to give us a better chance at seeing Mt. Fuji. As soon as we got in line, the sleek train whooshed in to the station. Just a moment more and the doors on our car opened. A handful of passengers filed out between the two lines waiting to go in. Our carriage awaited.
Inside, the seats were spacious and the soft color palette so soothing that it really felt special. Ever the gentleman, you put my overnight bag in the compartment above and let me have the spot closest to the window. When we settled in to our seats, the train pulled away from the station, so smooth and quiet—a much appreciated break from the clackety-clack of the Yamanote Line. The tension of the rush to get here flowed away. We'd made it for the first half of the journey!
I sighed with contentment over the extra leg room and the chance to put my feet up on the rest. That's when you flashed me imploring eyes and a pinched frown. The oddity of it on your normally serious face made me tamp down my giggle in the quiet space. Dutifully, I retrieved the melon breads and drinks while you pulled down the trays in front of us. With a flourish, I put two buns, warm yuzu and honey tea, and a napkin in front of you. We'd been so lucky to get the last two of the drinks from the vending machine. It'd been hard to find them!
Usually we're more health conscious and don't eat sugary things for breakfast. But the round, sweet bread with the cookie on the outside called to us, and it really looked like a little melon. After giving thanks, we bit into the pastries. They were super soft on the inside, crunchy on the outside, and just the perfect amount of sweetness—not overwhelming at all. You must have been really hungry since you demolished both of yours while I nibbled on mine and stared out the window. Skyscrapers turned to smaller and smaller structures and the clouds gave way to blue sky. Now, if only our luck would hold!
Soon we left the sprawling city scape and took in the rural scenes and towns built into the mountainsides. I recognized the billowing lines of tea bushes and distinctive sunken rice paddies.
In the tunnels we went through, my ears threatened to pop from the pressure. Our Hikari line train wasn't one of the fastest. Out of curiosity, we checked the train's speed just for fun and it was 265 kph. Still high-speed!
There wasn't anything to see in the mountain underpasses, so I looked back and caught you sipping from my bottle of yuzu and honey tea. Scamp! But you handed it back and promised to buy me another one. I put it close to the window, out of reach.
Shortly afterward, you pointed out our first glimpse of Fuji-san's bright snow cap towering over the mountain range. It was amazing how far away we could see the peak. As the train approached, Fuji-san's profile grew to dominate the landscape, and he gained a ring of puffy little clouds.
By then our stomachs were rumbling again and I'd finished the last of my yuzu and honey tea. So we grabbed my bag and pulled out our bento lunch boxes. We said "Itadakimasu!" in gratitude for our meal, removed the chopsticks taped to the side of the container, and set them on a paper rest. Lifting the lid released the fresh aromas of the contents and our mouths watered. The boxes contained fresh salad topped with thinly sliced beef, crab roll bites, pickled daikon, cucumber and carrots, fried fish cakes topped with sesame and a light barbeque sauce, seaweed with soybeans, and spring roll bites.
You dug in while I debated on what to eat first. The salad called to me. During lunch, we said goodbye to Fuji-san as we traversed its wide, namesake river. There we bid hello to more of the countryside and smaller cities dotting the coastline with snowcapped ranges in the distance. The countryside is always prettier when it's green. But winter, a time of rest for the land, has its charms too.
After we finished lunch, the conductor announced our stop, the Shinkansen train switch station based in Kobe. His gentle reminder to have our bags and be waiting to exit the train by the time it stopped got us moving. The train slowed smoothly into the station and seconds after it stopped, the doors opened. We exited between the two rows of passengers waiting to get on.
Just past the lines, I fetched my phone to snap a picture of the train and our used tickets since it was our first Shinkansen ride together. You patiently waited for me to record the sentimental moments for my journal. Then the train left with a whoosh. Farewell first train of the journey! I hoped to see it again on our way back.
Our next one would arrive at the same platform, so we walked just a few meters over and got in the queue. The Shinkansen slid effortlessly into the station and we boarded again. This time on a Sakura line, just 8 cars and a little older than the last train, but still sleek and fast.
Stepping into the car revealed a refined dark wood interior, giving old library vibes. We didn't get to peek out the windows as much on the second leg of the trip. There were quite a few tunnels. I mentioned the hope of seeing where we'd pass from the main island of Honshu to the southern one of Kyushu. You shook your head, whispering we'd go underground for the crossing.
Despite my disappointment, we chatted about the modern marvel that allowed for us to traverse islands in the blink of an eye. Then we reclined our seats. I was still curious and gazed out the window. Lots of hills and then darkness as we passed through them. I got a peek at an industrial port. The excitement had worn off and my brain turned fuzzy. I closed my eyes for just a moment.
The next thing I knew, you were nudging my shoulder, saying our stop was coming up. We fetched our bags again and lined up at the door as the train pulled up to the platform. Exiting the train into the hustle and bustle with the fading light of dusk overhead didn't feel very different from Tokyo. But we made our way out of the station.
We walked to our hotel and absorbed conversations that took me a bit to realize lacked 'r' sounds. After dropping off our bags, we wandered farther into Fukuoka. The famous yatai food stands lining the bridge crossing the river beckoned to us. You nudged me and tilted your head toward an oden hot pot stand, perfect for the cool evening. We were on another island!
In the morning, we'd meet with our contact for the assignment.
In the morning, we'd meet with our contact for the assignment.
On the other end, she heard soft snoring. "Sleep well, Tatsu." She hung up. Now that he was at peace, she'd finally be able to sleep, too. Tomorrow she'd edit the recording for him.
by AWV
Stats
2K words, average reading time ~ 10 min (at 200 wpm)Rating
GTags
Short stories, sleep stories, magic, trains, comfort, travel
Medium
Digital Recording, Text
This is so cute. I love the formatting of the text messages too <3
Thank you!