Early in the morning, I was sitting in the subway train. On the bridge between a small island of Kulosaari and continental Helsinki, the rising sun was shining intensively inside. The ray of light hit my face. I closed my eyes, concentrated on Kemopetrol that the iPod was playing. I felt weird. So light, so unreal. It reminded me of Tokyo. The Tokyo I used to live still in January.
I remembered the Daikanyama, I used to walk around with my Italian sister. The cheese cake factory, small boutiques and the nice design bookshop around there. I recalled Harajuku. My best Canadian friend, dressed as a small gothic lolita. I was thinking about the palm trees in the school yard, not to mention our back yard jungle. Climbing up to the Hachijo-Fuji mountain with my hairy neighbour. Skiing in Naeba with my Belgian and Finnish soulmates. Hanging out in cafe’s with sweet and lovely Japanese girls. Sitting hours in the Chuo-Sobu line. Just to quickly visit my red haired friend.
* * *
But now, those days are living only in my memories. The day when I return, the things have changed. There is no school yard. There is not four metres of snow in the mountains. There is no excuse to ride to Makuhari-Hongo.
* * *
But someday, sooner or later, I will return. Just to see the old places and the suddenly hidden faces. Just to find again those five months, when my soul belonged to Japan.