Dear Tokyo

Week 1

The package hadn't been there for very long, I hadn't seen it on my way out an hour ago, but it was already battered with scuff marks. Wherever it had come from, it had been through quite the journey. I gave Sophie in the car on the curb one last wave before picking up the surprisingly light parcel and heading inside.

Nobody else was home, which meant I could open the package in the kitchen without anyone nosying over my shoulder. I had already made sure it was mine. My name was written in blue across the top. In the corner, a mess of stamps with Japanese characters on them.

I sliced a box cutter through the seal, sliding out a familiar book along with a square of cardboard paper. The message on it was handwritten, also familiar.

You forgot this.

—Niko

My year in Japan was about the only time I had diligently and successfully kept a daily journal. Now that I was back in Australia, my time there felt like a dream and the book in my hands a novel, not a diary. I folded back the elastic keeping it secure and pried it open to a random page.

I was mentally preparing myself to flush the toilet when the door was ripped open by an old Asian man. As I stood there, bare arse cheeks shining to the world—

I slammed the book shut.

Even though I knew I was alone, I looked around to make sure.

"Dear god," I muttered, massaging my temple. I had done so well repressing that memory of forgetting to lock the toilet door on the plane ride to Tokyo.

Once I had mustered enough strength, I opened the journal again. This time, I made sure to start reading from the day I moved into the student dorm.

*

Soshigaya International House separated its residents' rooms by gender. Upon entering the building and reaching the end of the lobby, turning left would lead to the girls' wing, right to the boys'. It had been stated on the application form and so I had made peace with it months ago when I applied to live here. However, I hadn't expected it would apply to family members as well.

I snorted as Dad was made to wait in the lobby while Mum and I followed one of the Living Group Leaders through the automatic door of the girls' wing and up the elevator to the fourth floor. My room was in the same hallway as the showers and laundry, and right in front of the D-wing stairs.

The room itself really was just a room. Barring the door that led to the toilet to my immediate left, the rest of it was occupied by a bed on one side and a desk on the other. The window across the opposite end let in the sticky heat that I was surprised was still clinging around in mid-September.

Mum shooed me away to begin unpacking as Intan, the LGL, continued her tour of the dorm, showing me where the D-wing kitchen was, the study room and library on the second floor, and rehashing the lounge and cafeteria on the lobby when we returned downstairs to meet back up with Dad.

That night, after having dinner together, my parents walked me back to the dorm. It was their last night in Japan and the last time I would be seeing them for a while. Their flight was early tomorrow morning.

The outside of the dorm entrance wasn't well lit and, while it had been a point of complaint for Mum and Dad, I was grateful for it now as the cotton ball in my throat swelled up, barely leaving any room for me to choke out words.

"Are you crying?" Dad said, shocked. Mum shot him a look before wrapping her arms around me.

"I'm scared," I whispered, embarrassed. We were not an overly emotional family.

"What have you got to be scared for?" Dad said.

"You'll make friends—" Mum glanced up at the other dorm residents milling about the lobby—"and we're only a phone call away."

The two of them stayed until I went inside first, scanning my key at the e-gate and bowing to the security guard sitting at the office window. I didn't want to look back to see if they had gone yet.

Some of the people I had met at the dorm orientation were sitting on the benches that flanked either side of the hall, against the walls that divided the lobby from the lounge on the left and the cafeteria on the right. One of them, Niko, was actually on the same floor as me, her room just around the corner, closer to the kitchen.

"We're going to the conbini," she said. I could tell from her tone that she noticed I had been crying but didn't know whether to mention it or not. "You wanna come?"

Both of Niko's parents were Japanese but she had been born in the United States. There were two other Americans in the group, Kenji and Ami, who were both halfies. Kenji's mother was Caribbean and Ami's father was white. Another two were also Japanese on both sides of the family, Shun and Fumiko, but they had lived abroad most of their lives as well, Shun in South Africa and Fumiko in Thailand.

There were two guys I didn't know. I assumed both of them were white but Shun introduced one of them as Tomás.

"I'm from Mexico," he said. He was lanky and wore large, thick-rimmed glasses, but it was sort of endearing.

"Lyric, from Australia," I said, sniffing. "Sorry, I just said goodbye to my parents."

Both Tomás and Shun hummed in understanding.

"Lyric's an interesting name," Tomás said. "As in lyrics of a song?"

I nodded. "I prefer Ric though."

"Ric's cool too."

As we all beeped out of the gate, everyone called a word to the guard in Japanese, even Tomás and the other guy whom I thought were new to the language like me.

We only had to cross the street to reach the nearest convenience store, a Ministop, but Tomás lingered next to me, bumping my shoulder to show me cool snacks and asking me what Australia was like. Despite the fact that I was talking about home, I didn't feel homesick at all.

*

Niko wasn't answering her door so I was Ami's sole victim to drag down to the cafeteria for the name exchange that the LGLs had organised. Each wing of each floor for both the guys' and girls' sections had an LGL that we could go to with concerns and the LGLs themselves had a leader, Haru, who was hosting the name exchange and whom I was beginning to suspect was the main reason for Ami's wanting to be here, judging by the way she giggled every time he looked over at our table.

There was a raffle, which Kenji won, the prize being a box of secondhand kitchen utensils, which he shared with us, then we were let loose to mingle. Ami stayed long enough to exchange contact details with everyone before ducking to talk to Haru, not even turning to see the glare I was sending her back.

In the end, I was stuck with an American girl with fairy floss pink hair who took up most of the conversation, and a guy I realised was the same one I hadn't caught the name of when we went to Ministop. I glanced down at his LINE profile that had been added to my phone. Eduardo.

Everyone else in the dorm seemed to be either a full-time student who had come to Japan to complete their whole degree, or an exchange student from a university in another country that would only be staying for a year. I had already graduated. I was here on a non-degree program because my dad had done the same when he was my age and wanted it for me.

Letting Ami drag me down here wasn't a total loss. Eduardo was a non-degree student as well, so I at least had someone to go to student orientation with.

Eduardo left the name exchange first, giving me a wave. I made sure Ami was in good hands with Haru before I left as well. At least one of us wasn't awkward talking to boys.