2018

Gaijin Gavin

           It was late spring in Japan. The cherry blossom trees had lost their famous pink sakura, and many of the tourists who had come to the country to participate in flower viewing, or hanami, had left for home already. But Gavin Patile and his recently-wed wife Charlotte were only halfway done with a month-long expedition. The drop in tourism over the past few days was noticeable. It wasn’t like they now had all of Honshu to themselves, but there was certainly more, appreciated breathing room on the streets.

           “Mikey loved the photo I sent him,” Gavin said to Charlotte, who was over by some of the Sky Tree’s glass, where she looked down at and all over the sprawling city.

           “Which one was that?” she replied over the noise coming from a nearby visiting class of uniformed school kids. She turned away from the megalopolis and leaned on the railing. “I really tried, but I can’t find Tokyo Tower down there. I thought it’d stand out.”

           “This one,” Gavin said and showed her the selfie he took of them posing on the Mt. Hakodate observation deck. “That port city where we spent a couple of days, up in Hokkaido. He likes the view; says it’s the setting of an older favorite anime.”

           “Oh, I liked that town. Very old school Japan. Famous home of its first concrete utility pole, right? And that old train we had to board to get out there was… romantic?”

           “You’re such a history buff, Char,” Gavin said with a smile and got back to sending his coworkers and old friends pictures from their trip so far. “The tower’s over there, by the way. Partially obscured by buildings,” he added, pointing with his thumb.

           “And you’re not a history buff? You’re always talking about 80s and 90s Japan.”

           “I’m always talking about nostalgia, for lost time in a place where I did not happen to be. History’s more visceral and melancholic cousin.” He tapped at his touchscreen and muttered, “No, Stu, we can’t make it to every museum… Tch, it’s like no one has any idea how big this country is, or realizes that the Shinkansen doesn’t go to all of it.”

           “Was it really the best use of our two-week rail pass to stop in for one more day in Tokyo, though?” Charlotte wondered. “It was pretty expensive, you know.”

           “It’s fine, honey! We’ll more than break even with it just by taking day trips from Kyoto. Two weeks in Tokyo is enough time to see most of its main attractions, but I always wanted to come back and revisit a few places. Besides,” he pocketed his phone and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “this view is worth one more day, right?”

           “Mm, sure,” she said with a sigh, “but it’s starting to make me a little queasy.”

           Tokyo’s trains were fast and usually on time, so the feat of quickly traversing the huge city was often taken for granted, especially by those accustomed to train travel in Japan. Within the hour, Gavin was back on the ground and playing on a classic arcade cabinet for sale in Akihabara like it was nothing. Fortunately, he’d always known just the kind of wife he wanted: one who also loved music and video games, and even at her age, was also constantly on the hunt for a good deal on a used classic.

           After Charlotte had finished scouring the second floor of their favorite pre-loved media store in the Electric Town, she descended the narrow stairs—passing under an original in-box Virtual Boy on a shelf over the guardrail on the way—and found Gavin still trying to get a high score on a game she didn’t really understand; which was kind of the majority of the ones that never left Japan, because they were often a little too esoteric.

           “Gav? I grabbed a few Super Nintendo titles you wanted for the collection,” she said and dangled a little plastic bag near his eyes, but dared not block his view. “Um. Wow. You are really into this game. Is this how you looked when you got ‘in the zone’ as a kid? Can you even hear me right now? Hm. So, anyway, I found out I’m pregnant.”

           He sighed, but then smiled without taking his eyes off the screen. “Funny, Char. Yes, I can hear you,” he said over his button mashing. “This one just got its claws in me, and I came so close to getting on the leader board when we were here last.”

           “Couldn’t leave the country without doing that, huh?” She turned to the old CRT screen with a puzzled expression. “See, I grew up on shoot-em-ups, and I get what a bullet hell is, but I don’t understand why you’re a cute chibi witch girl on a broom instead of, you know, a badass gunship that could actually fire that many bullets at once.”

           “It’s an early Touhou game, sweetie. They realized visible player characters with personalities could attract a wider audience. How they look isn’t important. Hold on, I’m almost done,” he assured her as the final boss appeared: a giant flying spider that could shoot fireballs from guns attached to its back. “I watched a YouTube video of this fight on the train yesterday. I think I have the pattern memorized. Watch this, Char.”

           She did. The epic battle was brutal, with deadly glowing pellets filling the screen in patterns most players couldn’t find the safe spaces within. But her husband was not most players. Regardless of how culturally important video games were or were not, she loved seeing his childhood passion revisit old peaks that made him seem young again.

           “Yeah!” he shouted like an American among people that tried to maintain a level of public decorum, as the spider boss exploded and his witch’s avatar smiled, winked, and thanked him for playing so well in Japanese. “That has to be a high score this time!”

           When it was revealed that he secured his spot in eighth place, Charlotte gave him her congratulations, and he put in the initials once seen across Royal Valley: G-A-V. He puffed out a shaky breath before leaving with Char—giving the mildly irritated clerk on the ground floor a wave during their exit. Past the door was the rest of otaku heaven. Its colorful painted buildings, LED displays, mural-sized advertisements, and anime and game character merch-filled tables bathed in the orange colors of another sunset.

           “Are you happy now?” Charlotte asked over the crowd sounds and elbowed him in the side. “It’s not like you haven’t left your name on other cabinets across Japan.”

           “Sure, but that’s the first one in Aki-ha-bara. Ugh, two weeks here and I still can’t say the name in its proper, ‘fast’ way.” He turned and walked backwards for a little bit to admire the surprisingly small section of Tokyo for possibly the last time. “I hope Vanni makes it out here one day. She’d hate all her fellow tourists, but love the overall vibe.”

           “Maybe her inner teen spirit would. Isn’t she mostly about music now?”

           “So she claims. But she’s still got that competitive side. Now, back to Shibuya!”

           The trains were fast and on time, and they arrived at one of the world’s densest and most popular commercial hubs by late sunset. Digital billboards along buildings lit up the evening, and they walked the busiest crossing anywhere not for fun, but just out of necessity; all those little treasure-loaded shops with the tight confines were scattered about in alleyways and on one-way roads, and the easiest way to get to them was to start with the scramble, before gradually venturing into smaller and smaller spaces and places.

           There was no point in trying to hold a conversation among so many people, but it was Gavin that got out the first words in a while as they passed by another sight that had become common to them: a group of teen girls striking kawaii poses for their phone cameras while enjoying another night on the town in their best and elaborate outfits.

           “Char,” Gavin spoke over his shoulder with a smirk as she tried to keep up with him, “I still say that you’d look good in a Harajuku dress. Imagine your mom’s reaction.”

           “Oh, stop it,” she sighed, “you know I’m too old to pull it off. And it’s kind of—”

           “Cultural appropriation, I know. Your new favorite phrase. But most everything here eventually reaches home. Just think. You could help export the fashion to Arizona.”

           “You didn’t say I’m not old, honey, but I’ll give you a pass.” She followed Gavin into a narrow side alley where the light of other signs didn’t quite touch, through a rusty door, and then up some rickety wooden steps, murmuring, “I remember this place…”

           Despite the state of its entrance, the shop was packed with both media gems and people, local and foreigner alike. The shelves were full of DVD releases from all over the world, manga from series popular and obscure, and video games dating from their early history to those for modern systems. The store’s centerpiece was a glass display case with classic kaiju and Ultraman toys doing battle in a custom Lego city.

           Gavin had skimmed everything on the first visit, but had always wanted to give the music section a closer look. He went straight to a bin of CDs and audio cassettes, where he plucked out albums typically full of text in Japanese—but that was okay.

           “How do you know which of those will interest you, Gav?” Charlotte wondered.

           “Album art and vibes. Not much different from how I gave bands a try when I was a kid. Got the translation app on my phone on standby just in case, but I’m mostly looking for more classic Japanese jazz; I’ve taken a real liking to it recently.” He plucked out one album excitedly. “Ooh, a rare Lou Reed release. Too rich for my blood, though.”

           Charlotte went through a few discs, and then turned to the lonely arcade cabinet for sale in the corner: a copy of an old Puyo Puyo tile-matching game with a faded screen.

           “You going to go for a high score on that one, too? I bet Vanni would make it here on her theoretical Japan visit, see it while searching for music, and check it out.”

           “Hm? That one?” Gavin gave it a glance. “Nah, we weren’t that great with puzzle titles. Doubt either of us could make the board. She probably wouldn’t bother looking.”

           “This whole… ‘leave high scores on arcade games all over town for my sibling to find’ is sort of cute, Gav. Was that something you two did when you were growing up?”

           He smiled nostalgically. “Not really. It got its start in Royal Valley, but that was just the arcades at the theme park and mall, pretty much. The timing of our LA move made it so her getting a driver’s license was delayed, and by then her main passion had become music. But it was always something I’ve thought about: a high-score scavenger hunt. I don’t think me doing this all over LA would inspire her enough to participate.”

           “But doing it here might? What makes you think she’d come to Japan?”

           “Come on, Char. Most westerners into enough pop culture from the 1980s and beyond at least want to make it here one day. You’ll see. She’ll plan a trip at some point, if just to fill some need for music she hasn’t heard before at first.” Gavin added a third jewel case to his hand and turned to Charlotte. “I know what you want to say. That I’m trying to relive the old days, or I just want to play games with her again like we used to because we’re both so busy. It’s really simply some lighthearted fun, and not that deep.”

           Charlotte smiled. “So, what’s the weirdest place you’ve found an arcade cabinet?”

           “Oh, easy. We used to take road trips once a year to my cousin's family in Pueblo. There was a Holiday Inn we always stayed at, and for some reason, they had a cabinet off in a little side room by the indoor pool. Smash TV, I think. I played it every time I visited. Thing is, so few other people did that, like, half the scores were still the default entries even years later. I wonder if it’s still there, with my initials stuck on it.”

           “The world’s such a big, weird place, isn’t it? It still messes with my mind a little that we’re in Japan… Oh, here’s an oldie.” She showed Gavin an original Sailor Moon manga from 1992. “Hey, what was that you said, about feeling nostalgia for a time and place where you weren’t? I get the sentiment, but does that even fit the definition?”

           “Who says it can’t? When I think of this country… Um, how to put it…” He stopped browsing and thought for a moment. “I imagine what it was like to be here from the early 80s through the early 2000s, at the epicenter of so many technological innovations. To be the first to use a Walkman, or an NES, or to see a classic like Akira in a theater. I’m fascinated by the culture, but you know I don’t consider myself some Japanophile. The relationship between our countries is just so unique, with our media bouncing off each other. They kind of infiltrated our landscape with video games and anime, and made my generation really aware of their folklore and humor over the years. And all of that began here. It’s like… their nostalgia always began just before ours did?”

           “Um. Wow. That’s a little heavier than I expected. You think about this a lot?”

           “A bit. Oh, and I find something melancholic about seeing all the little towns go by when we’re on the trains. It makes me feel the things I do when I watch Totoro.”

           “Okay, weirdo,” Char said playfully. “You might be the most nostalgic guy ever.”

           “I doubt it. I’m sure someone else out there would build a time machine before me.”

           “Do you think this one’s open?” Gavin wondered a half hour later, when they stopped outside of a yakitori place in an alley off of Shibuya. “I have trouble telling with the traditional restaurants. Even if the light’s on. They’re subtle; no ‘loud’ neon signs.”

           “Gav, you worry too much! Just slide open the door and see for yourself.”

           “Heh… I always feel like I’m intruding, or interrupting something,” he said, but did as requested to reveal the little eatery inside, with limited seating around the counter.

           The two employees greeted them with friendly shouts, and they found their spots between other patrons; all of them locals. Tourists weren’t a rare sight at such places per se, but the old-fashioned restaurants definitely tended to primarily attract the more adventurous or experienced foreigners. They both took a menu—no English this time, but plenty of pictures—and decided what combination of three items they wanted.

           The hard-working duo behind the counter served their food shortly after taking their orders: chicken skewers both grilled and in meatball form. Gavin, having worked up a thirst, held up his empty glass and asked politely, “Sumimasen, motto mizu o kudasai.”

           “You don’t know many words, but what you say, you say well,” Charlotte noted.

           “Thanks. I’m trying. I’m still not clear when you should add the gozaimasu to your arigatōs, though. But learning about how ‘everything is contextual’ in this language really put into perspective why translators have their work cut out for them.”

           “Hey, Gav?” Charlotte spoke up again once he got his water refill. “Maybe I’m seeing something that’s not there, but I’ve kind of noticed that you tend to… prefer, or even seek out stores and restaurants on side streets and alleys. Do you think they feel more, I dunno, ‘secretive’ or something? Off the beaten path? Maybe less touristy?”

           “I do?” He looked at her curiously. “I hadn’t really noticed. Huh… I wonder… There could be something unconscious going on there. I mean, alleys and side street places are all over, but still… I’ve told you about our secret club at my school, right?”

           “That was… what, The Shade? At Sherwin Williams Elementary?”

           Gavin nearly spit out food laughing. “Honey, that’s a paint brand. Sherman Miller. You got the club name right, though. Yeah, it was in a shaded alley. Made a lot of great memories there. The ‘owner’ got to sit on a transformer box. Simpler times, all that.”

           She rolled her eyes. “Suuure. Secret school clubs. I still can’t tell if you’re serious.”

           “I am, for real! It’s sad if you never had one, Charlotte. You really missed out.”

           On day three of their two-week rail pass, Gavin and Charlotte boarded another train with their minimal luggage. Neither had grown up riding trains, and whereas the Shinkansen was once intimidating, the routes were relatively easy to figure out and they were getting used to one of the world’s most refined rapid transit systems.

           Like usual, Gavin kept his eyes on the passing landscapes and cities outside, as if he just had to see as much of the country as possible. Charlotte was perfectly content with reading one of the many books loaded onto her Kindle, and relied on her tech-savvy hubby to figure out the right trains to board and at what time.

           About halfway through their journey, as forests and those melancholic small towns passed by outside, she looked up from her book when two young Japanese children, who boarded at the previous stop with their mom, walked past her and took the spots a few rows ahead. The pair, already well-versed in politeness as evident by their quiet demeanors, dangled their little legs over their seats. It was subtle, but there was excitement on the kids’ faces. Perhaps it was their first time on a bullet train.

           “Char, you read something funny or sentimental?” Gavin asked, and she realized he was staring at her. “Just curious what you’re smiling about.”

           “Oh, uh… it’s nothing, really.” She finished a page, and then put her tablet on her lap. “Honey, I know how nostalgic you can get and you’re always thinking about the past, which is… fine, in moderation. But we don’t talk about the future very often.”

           “What’s there to say? It hasn’t happened yet, so wouldn’t it all be speculation? I’ve never been a big fan of that. Got burned by too many playground rumors, maybe.”

           “I mean, you can still make plans. But I guess that’s not really your style, either.”

           “Yeah, sorry about that, hon. You knew I was mostly a ‘go with the flow’ kind of guy since college. Doesn’t mean I don’t try or improve myself, but it does help stave off many forms of disappointment, right? Is… this about… you know what again?”

           Charlotte glanced back at the kids, and replied, “It’s just that, well, you never said you were totally opposed to starting a family. We don’t have all the time in the world left to decide, either. I was hoping we could’ve… talked about it on this trip by now?”

           Gavin opened his mouth, hesitated, and instead replied with, “When the time is right, and we’re not in such a rush—maybe we can chat. In a quiet setting.”

           “To be fair, we have kept really busy. Crazy that some people relax on a vacation.”

           Kyoto, a quieter city of tradition where the more modern buildings were fewer in number, would provide a home base for the travelers for much of the rest of their long journey throughout the country. After they departed their train, they chose to walk to their rental and get a chance to admire the old houses and little shops that dotted the side streets, which like most old cities, went off in seemingly random directions.

           As they pulled their rolling suitcases along, much of Gavin’s focus was on his phone instead of local history. “Okay, checked in with the Airbnb host as requested… Lots of specific directions, instructions, and rules on this one. There’s even a picture that shows just how to find the place. Guess a lot of the homes here are off the streets and down an alleyway. And we get extra futons if the padding from just one isn’t enough.”

           “I read that Kyoto can be pretty formal. I hope we’re not underdressed.”

           “Nah, we’re fine. It’s just stuff like t-shirts and shorts, or anything flashy, that might be a bit of a faux pas. Let’s, uh, dress nicely for any dinners out, though.”

           “I know we’re using Kyoto as something of a hub for day trips, but we are going to see plenty of stuff here, too, right? We sorta forgot to do much local research.”

           “I can always find us things to do anywhere. I think there’s a big bamboo forest, and a famous shrine. Headquarters of Nintendo, too, but… not like they’d give us a tour. There are rumors the company’s starting work on a museum, though.”

           “Didn’t you recently tell me you try to avoid rumors?”

           “Oh, no, I love hearing them,” he grinned, “I just don’t believe any.”

           After some turns down obscure little alleys, they found their place nestled deep within a city block, just past a tiny personal shrine and lucky cat statuette faded by years of sunlight. Gavin put in the key’s lockbox code, opened the classic sliding door, and stepped inside with Charlotte. Leaving their shoes by the door, they walked on tatami and creaky wooden floors as they surveyed their four walls, a kitchenette, two floors, a roof, and a garden with a fountain that filled bamboo until it tipped and made a noise.

           “This is cozy, isn’t it?” Charlotte remarked. “We even got our own deer scare.”

           Gavin chuckled. “I think it’s called a shishi odoshi, sweetie, but you’re right.”

           “Well, I learned about them in Animal Crossing, and that’s what it called them.”

           “You’re too cute sometimes. Places like this sure make ya feel far from home…”

           “Which is why I need something familiar tonight, like more of my favorite wine.”

           When evening arrived after a full day of just walking around Kyoto, the travelers retired to the little upstairs tea room. The set and its petite cups were left off to the side as the two drank from glasses full of Charlotte’s beloved Napa Valley red; Gavin, never much of a drinker, always kept himself at a single glass a night and made it last.

           “Hey, Gav…?” Charlotte said after a bigger than usual swig from her side of the knee-high table. “I am serious, you know… I really do want to start a family.”

           “Hoo…” Gavin exhaled heavily. “I might have that second glass for once. Where is this coming from? All these years, and I thought you wanted kids as little as I do.”

           “I mean, we’re allowed to change our minds. My sisters, and most of my friends all have at least one now, or one on the way. But it’s more than just some ‘everyone else is doing it’ thing. Can you really not see yourself as a dad? I think you’d be a good one.”

           Gavin let out a nervous chuckle that came close to a scoff. “I mean, yeah, it is hard to see, because it’s not something I’ve spent any meaningful time imagining. The world is changing so fast, and it’s getting harder to recognize it from my own past.”

           “But we don’t see things from the past. Is that enough reason to not have a kid?”

           “I just think there’d be… I dunno, a distance—a gulf between us that would make it hard to connect or even find common ground. Even the kids around today who are, like, six already—how do you relate to them? Growing up with social media, and all the constant memes, and the clinginess to screens. Child fusses, give ’em the iPad. Brat gets bored, here’s my phone. Kid shares the latest trend or dance you don’t get, and… how do you react to it, or show interest, or don’t without hurting their feelings?”

           “But there’s always a generation gap, you know? And you don’t have to raise them on a screen. You can always take it away. Do you think they’d show no interest at all in the games their dad grew up with, or movies you loved when you were a kid?”

           Gavin swirled the wine in his glass as he stared into it. “Maybe… But it’s also tough. You won’t appreciate how hard it can be until you’re an adult. You don’t even need to wait to have children to realize what your parents did for you. And the repetition, gah, it’d kill me. I’ve never liked doing the same thing, day in and day out. I’m lucky my office job is among those rare ones where at least each day feels kind of unique.”

           “I promise that every hour is a new surprise when you have a child around.”

           “I get what you’re saying, but there’s still a rigid structure behind the chaos.”

           Charlotte sighed and twirled some of her long blond hair. “You’re not following your sister’s lead on this one, are you? Just because she decided to not have any…”

           “Eh, she’s even more non-committal than I am. She can barely sit still in one place for a month. And thinks passing down genetics is overrated and sees all these other, bigger ways of leaving a legacy. For me, it’s more about doubts, I think. And worries, for the future. I feel some strange obligation to only have a kid if I knew I’d be bringing them into a world better than the one I got to have, and that’s… tough to see.”

           “You can’t know for sure what the future will bring. You’ve always been worried about it. Even here, in a country you once said always felt like it was the ‘bleeding edge of tomorrow’ or something like that, where you can ‘almost see the future…’ You love it here anyway. You don’t hold onto regrets like so many people do, Gav. As soon as a day becomes a yesterday, you treat it like it’s safely locked away in a happy memory box. We don’t all think like that, though. For example… I wish we had this talk years ago.”

           “You do? Huh…” He finished his glass. “That’s a pretty heavy way of putting things. And I do have regrets, like anyone else. I just try not to linger on them for long. And the future? Yeah, I worry about it, but not with any specifics. It’s too hard for me to imagine, and always made me anxious, so… I stopped thinking so much about it.”

           “And I’m glad you’ve mastered how to ‘live in the moment,’ but sometimes I do hope you’ll think about things you can do to make that moment better later on.”

           “Hm. I don’t know. I, uh… What are we talking about again, exactly?” He lightly laughed. “Oh, right. Kids, starting a family, moving on, legacies… A lot of big topics to get into on a trip. There’s ‘free time,’ sure, but they aren’t relaxing, easy subjects.”

           “I don’t remember you telling me about your regrets before. I’m curious.”

           “Not really worth mentioning. Most of the big ones weren’t something I could control, anyway. Leaving Royal Valley and all my friends was tough, but, no choice in the matter. And there are some arcade games I spent way too much time and money on to get a high score that never materialized. Said some things to Vanni over the years I wish I could take back… Oh, and I never got to tell my first crush how I felt.”

           “Ah, see, that’s a classic, and now I know we both share it. What was her name?”

           “It was memorable. Penny McDermot. If we stayed in town, who knows…”

           “I hope that isn’t too much of a regret, buster,” Char said, kneeing him playfully.

           The next day was all about Osaka, Kyoto’s neighbor to the southwest. Following a big lunch put together on a tour of some of the foodie city’s stalls, they took a train out to the bay area and paid a visit to the aquarium that was often said to be the best in the country. It started with a long escalator ride to the top of the large building, and sent guests on a journey into the depths that began with green exhibitions of river life.

           As Gavin and Charlotte spent time staring at an octopus and taking a rest on some of the seats along a huge main tank with hundreds of fish and two whale sharks, Vanni woke up somewhere in America’s Pacific Time Zone and responded to his texts. There was no telling where she was currently, and Gavin usually no longer asked.

           “She’s getting more serious about wanting a kid, huh?” her first response buzzed in his pocket. He took his phone out and stared at three dots impatiently. “Wish I had some advice, but I’ve never made the debate a problem for myself. No compromising on this one. Getting a dog or whatever wouldn’t come close to counting. If you already reminded her of your take, that’s all you can do. Someone will ‘lose’ no matter what.”

           After making sure that Charlotte was still mesmerized by a giant fish, Gavin quickly tapped back, “Ugh I was hoping you’d just take my side or might know what to say! Most of my old buddies already have kids, so their advice is really no good to me.”

           “Haha,” she replied. After a few more seconds, she added, “TBF, they might have convincing arguments if their kids are annoying brats, but aren’t they all still babs? Saw a pic of Stu and Mikey setting up their sons’ first playdate together recently. Even Janice’s daughter recently got over her rebellious phase and is rocking on a violin now. Got no bad kids around currently to help your case. I believe you’re on your own, bro!”

           “Great. But now that I think about it, there might be a local guy I could talk to if I dig up his email. And how do you know all this stuff? You’re barely on social media.”

           “They all think I’m good with kids. IDK why. Gotta get to a gig. Good luck!”     

           They later saw animals that were rarely at zoos or aquariums, like the rockhopper penguins on the bottom floor. Before they exited, Gavin took his phone back out to film the endearing fellows with yellow crests and red eyes as they hopped rocks.

           He smiled. “I always thought these guys looked kind of badass, for penguins.”

           Charlotte leaned on him as they watched the birds, replying, “They don’t act it.”

           “Kinda like my old gang. We made ourselves look so cool, but were goofs inside.”

           Kyoto was in for rain all day, so for the next one, they took their planned but unscheduled trip to Himeji to see Japan’s most famous castle. From the train station all the way to the walk across its moat, its white walls and roof remained visible, towering at one end of the city’s major tourist-heavy road lined with shops and restaurants.

           It was overcast and breezy, and the weather was cool. While the trek to the castle was pleasant, the climb up the ancient inclines past its walls wore on Gavin more than Charlotte had expected. He needed a rest on the bench where visitors took off their shoes and put them in a bag before going into the castle. As he caught his breath, his wife, having stamina to spare, made sure that her concern was apparent.

           “You okay?” she asked him as she removed her footwear.

           “Sure, no problem,” he said and gave her a thumbs-up. “Just a little out of shape. Whoo… How about that lead-up, huh? Not many cities show you their famous landmark right from the train. Made it look like a little dollhouse on a hill that kept getting bigger.”

           “I guess so… Gavin, honey, you worry me sometimes. You seem like you’re in decent enough health, but now and then you run out of breath like this.”

           “I’m okay, really. I’m just not always the best at pacing myself.”

           “Well, we’re going to be climbing a bunch of old, narrow wooden staircases in there. So please tell me if I’m moving too fast for you. I don’t like being a worrywart.”

           “I know.” He got to his feet and reassured her by taking a deep breath. “I’m fine. Let’s get to the top of this thing. I like that it’s as is, and not turned into a museum with an elevator like Osaka’s. If samurai could climb up in all that heavy armor, so can I.”

           She gave him a smile. “Sure, dear. Green, black, and blue, make the colors in the sky…”

           “Ooh, I’d love to see you move on Dance Dance Revolution again,” he reminisced as they went inside. “The one arcade game that I’ll never try to beat your high score on.”

           “You didn’t so much as try to compete with me. It’s not even real dancing!”

           “It’s close enough to the one thing I’ll never do. Even as a music-lover.”

           They climbed up the six flights of stairs into dimly-lit shrinking rooms, and were awarded with a lovely albeit crowded view of the city from the top, fenced-in parapet.

           Gavin announced near a golden shachihoko statue on the roof, “By the way, I got in touch with an old buddy. We’re moving up our Mt. Fuji stuff so we can pay a visit.”

           “For real? You have friends in Japan, too? He doesn’t live on Mt. Fuji, does he?”

           Fujinomiya, a scenic and lovely smaller town close to the mountain’s western side that turned the prized views into tourist money, required a transfer to an older, slower train to get into. As luck would have it, it was a bright blue day, giving the two a good look at the lumbering snow-capped giant in the distance the whole ride up.

           Within a mile’s walk of the station were some apartments, and Charlotte—who was being very patient about all of this and didn’t even have a name for the guy they were meeting yet—waited while Gavin buzzed the room number at the three-story complex’s entrance and hoped for a response. After a few seconds, one arrived.

           “Gavin? Is that you? Let me hear that voice from the past, gamer bro.”

           “Akito-san, yeah, it’s me!” Gavin replied enthusiastically. “Let us up, man!”

           “That is you! The buzzer audio is nearly as bad as your old microphone’s.”

           “Microphone…?” Charlotte murmured as they went in. “Gav, who is this guy?”   

           He remained mum about it on the way to the second-floor apartment. After two knocks, a Japanese man about Gavin’s age and with a thin beard opened the door. He seemed fairly “westernized,” and his English was already demonstrated to be quite good. The two bumped fists, and Char got a quick peek at his American-made games posters.

           “Well, dang, Akito. You cleaned up this place rather nicely,” Gavin said after they had stepped inside. “Er, actually, thinking back… I don’t think I ever saw any pics of it.”

           “Oh. Nice. So, you’re saying you imagined me living the hiki life with trash bags everywhere. My place was always clean, bro. Parents would’ve kicked me out otherwise.”

           “Anyway, uh, Charlotte—this is Akito. And it’s the first time we’ve actually met in person. Until yesterday, I think it had been about six years since we last spoke online. But, guess what? I found his old email, he responded, and he still lives here.”

           “Um. Hi,” Charlotte said a touch sheepishly. “And how did you two… ‘meet?’”

           “Duh, forgot that part. We were World of Warcraft friends for, like, ever. Just randomly joined a raid together in 2005 back when the game was new—and nearly screwed up my senior year at college—and we hit it off. He played mornings, while I played late at night, almost every day. For eight years. An eternity in MMORPG time.”

           “Really?” She and Akito shook hands. “I know almost nothing about the genre, but that’s impressive. No wonder you never wanted to get coffee in the morning, Gav.”

           “Uh, yeah, heh… I… actually played all the way to dawn sometimes. No regrets.”

           “Good memories,” Akito agreed. “But I hope you didn’t go out of your way just to finally meet me after all these years. There are much better things to see in Japan.”

           “We were always going to stop here to see Mt. Fuji. Only, it was originally going to be right at the end of the trip, on our way back to the airport.”

           “I see. Well, you picked a good day to see Fuji-san. The city opened up a heritage center recently with a nice view at the top. It’s not far from here, if you want to walk.”

           “Hey, sure! Sounds fun,” Charlotte replied. “What a place to catch up, huh?”

           “Mm-hm.” Gavin pulled Akito aside in his own apartment, and whispered, “It doesn’t matter where we do it, but about that thing I’d like us to talk to her about…”

           Akito clenched his jaw momentarily, scratched the back of his neck, turned a little red, and replied, “I didn’t want to say this in the email, Gavin, but… I’m actually moving to Kobe next month. To live with my girlfriend. Who is having a baby.”

           Gavin let out a disbelieving snort. “What? You’re… you’re serious, aren’t you? Akito, my man in Japan, who spent hours on the mic while we were level grinding going on rants about how humanity should stop having kids—you’re past all that?”

           “I know, but things changed over the last few years. Do you… still want to talk?”

           Gavin sighed. “Maybe we do just catch up instead. Here I was hoping that a little of the old you was still in there. Charlotte keeps pressing me to start a… family.”

           “Sorry for letting you down one last time, Gavin the Paladin.”

           “It wasn’t planned, you know,” Akito told his old WoW buddy as they sat on one of the benches in the heritage center’s shaded observation deck, while Charlotte stood over at the barrier to get pictures and selfies with the mountain. “But when we found out, my whole worldview shifted overnight. I won’t tell your wife about it if you don’t want me to, but I also can’t really back up your side, either. Even though I still think you made some legit arguments against having kids back in the day, too.”

           “It’s still crazy to me, Akito,” Gavin muttered, eyes gazing out from the viewing rectangle all the way to Fuji’s gradual upwards curves. “So many people I know from my childhood are starting families—people I never thought would. It just seems like a scary time to bring life into an unpredictable world. What if we’re just making our kid suffer?”

           “But we were born during the Cold War, to parents also scared of the future.”

           “Eh, I mean, that’s fair, but the 80s had more of a sense of optimism too, didn’t they? I dunno,” he groaned and rubbed his forehead, “it just feels like you have to give up big pieces of yourself to accommodate a kid, both time and money wise.”

           “You do. Even without one around yet, between work and my relationship, I really don’t have time for gaming anymore. I didn’t expect to leave that life behind.”

           “And I don’t get how gamers like us can! Less time on the schedule, sure. Only playing the franchise releases you care most about, no more being a completionist—that all makes sense in adult life, but to stop completely? Or at most, only watch streamers? It’s giving up something that used to make me happy and feel fulfilled.”

           “Sure. But you get to keep the memories. And, who knows, I could always get into it again. Or drag out my old consoles and boot up some classics for the kid.”

           “Speaking of, isn’t it kinda frowned upon to have a baby out of wedlock here?”

           “Oooh, a little, yes… We will probably be getting married in a month or two, but nothing big. So, Gavin, how are you liking Japan? I don’t get to meet many foreigners.”

           “It’s actually sort of… what I expected, mostly? Ever since Toonami started airing in the states—it was, or still is an anime block on a cartoon channel—I’ve been getting drip fed all the little aspects about the culture, and how places look, even more than from all the games over the decades. The crazy stuff to me isn’t your folklore or yōkai, though. It’s your roads. I mean, at least in the big cities, they’re so clean and always look brand-new. No idea why we can’t have that. Oh, also? The whole country feels like a big theme park to us tourists, man. The number of malls is crazy, and you turn a corner and bam, there’s a life-size Pokémon, or a Sanrio mural, or a Gundam statue or smiling anime character. No idea how Japan’s licensing works, but it’s like you’re always celebrating your pop culture icons, anytime, anywhere. Is there a word for that?”

           “Not really. You’d need something longer. A haiku, maybe.” Akito leaned back as Charlotte turned and started waving to insist they join her. “It can become too much, though. If you’d like, I could take you somewhere beautiful and quiet. Like Aokigahara.”

           “The, um… famous old forest? We had talked about it, but there didn’t seem to be an easy way to get there through public transit. Is it creepy? Char doesn’t like creepy.”

           “Only if you go there with ghosts on your mind. Two hours of driving total.”

           “Hm. If she wants to. This is why we long-trip; you get time for the unexpected.”

           In the late afternoon, Akito arrived at a mostly-empty parking area deep within Japan’s “Sea of Trees.” It was a dense, green forest full of vegetation feasting upon the volcanic minerals laid down by Fuji’s last major eruption close to 1,200 years ago. For all of its beauty, it was of course unfortunately known for its darker and haunting history.

           Akito locked up his little Honda hatchback once Gavin and Charlotte exited, the two of them already a little mesmerized by the lush foliage and plethora of large roots weaving in and out of the ground and around one another, even at just another typical trailhead. Charlotte raised her camera, only to lower it, perhaps out of reverence.

           “Take all the pictures you’d like,” their guide assured her. “This is one of the big, main trails. You’ll see some signs, but generally… people don’t come here to do what you might be thinking. And just because it does happen, doesn’t mean it happens all over the place, or every day. Locations can earn a reputation for the worst of their associations.”

           “I figured,” Charlotte replied quietly. “It just takes time to adjust to what an area is really like against your expectations. It still feels a bit eerie, but it is pretty out here. It’s like the little forest spirits from Princess Mononoke could come out any second.”

           Akito smirked. “Yes, I always think so, too. How about it, Gavin? Do we venture in? It’s like that first time we explored Felwood together. But, more peaceful.”

           The three kept at a slow pace, but went deeper and deeper into the woods until it felt like they had just barely left all human influence behind. It was quiet, and there was little wind and few animals about. Gavin kept at the back, and let Akito and Charlotte get to know each other a little, as she’d done with the rest of his old friends. Though in their case, they mostly talked about video games from the 80s and 90s as the occasional sun dapple from the thick growth above made its way onto their hair or clothing.

           “Absolutely, Zelda II is the most underrated game of the franchise,” Akito replied to Charlotte’s opinion. “It was the second one. No one even knew yet what they wanted out of the series. You don’t see Nintendo experimenting like that much anymore.”

           “And what about Final Fantasy V? I never got why that didn’t reach us initially.”

           “Another one, yes. Funny, too. Small cast, but the job system was killer. I don’t know the official reason, but I always thought it had something to do with three of the four final party characters being girls. Maybe western audiences ‘weren’t ready’ for that?”

           “Changing topics a little. I like to ask—what’s the worst game you ever owned?”

           “Oof. Oh, that’s tough. We grew up in an age where we just wanted more games and there weren’t internet reviews. I don’t remember a time before Famitsu, though, so that always helped me decide what to beg my parents for. Hm. I had an early Famicom game called Hyper Sports. It’s a button-masher, and I actually broke my thumb playing it.”

           “You did? Wow, that was rude of it. Were you a little kid when that happened?”

           “No,” he laughed, “I bought it used when I was twelve. Cried like a kid, though.”

           “Me and Gav didn’t meet till college, but we both read Nintendo Power all the time. Didn’t really occur to us until we were adults that it was corporate-run journalism that hesitated to give games bad reviews, but… it was still always a fun monthly read.”

           They happened upon a clearing, relatively speaking; it was slightly sunnier at least. A big fallen tree trunk provided a tempting sit-spot, and they took their seats in the cool and crisp forest air amid tranquil sounds of nature, far from city lights and pop culture.

           “So… How much longer are you going to be in Japan?” Akito asked them.

           “A bit over a week,” Gavin replied. “Planning to visit Fushimi Inari tomorrow.”

           “Ahh. Get there early to beat the worst of the crowds.”

           “You know what I think about a lot when we find some area on a trip to just chill for a little?” Gavin took a deep breath and leaned back on the mossy tree trunk. “I call it spaces and places. For the thought process itself, I guess. Externalized, it becomes stoner talk, even though I’ve never been one. Charlotte’s used to my babbling, though.”

           “Spaces and places,” Akito repeated. “Sounds like something for another haiku.”

           “It’s just pondering the size of the world. How everywhere you’ve been moves on, even without you. We’re here, and back home, kids are still playing games at Galaxy Hub, or people are seeing a Dodgers game. Then think about how many buildings and rooms there are, abandoned or full of life, the distance between them… There’s no goal, no epiphany to find; it’s only a simple yet mind-boggling thing to get lost in. An endless mental trip, like exploring a procedurally generated game. Scary liminal spaces included.”

           “That is a little ‘heady.’ But being in Tokyo can make me think such things.”

           “Gavin’s always seen the world in a unique, storybook way,” Charlotte added.

           “Hm. Hm… By the way, my girlfriend and I are having a baby later this year.”

           “Really? Congratulations, Akito! Keep in touch and send me the pics, okay?”

           “Agh, Akito… Dude…” Gavin moaned. “I thought you’d at least stay neutral.”

           It was nine in the morning, and Fushimi Inari-taisha, one of the country’s most famous Shinto shrines that ran all along and up Mt. Inari, was already crammed full of tourists and locals. After Gavin and Charlotte grabbed some breakfast on skewers from a food stall in the market area near the street and train station, they proceeded up the many steps and through nearly endless bright orange torii gates, as fast as the visitors that formed a flowing river of people would allow. So dense were the gates, that they blurred the line between indoor and outdoor space, and created something of a long wooden hallway that let in plenty of sunlight through the gaps.

           “It really is beautiful, isn’t it?” Charlotte said while raising her phone as high as she could to take more pictures on their walk. “It’s an excessive amount of gates, sure—I don’t know how many times you can further enter a spiritual plane—but it does make for quite a sight. I just hope the crowds thin a little as we head further up.”

           “You saw the kitsune statues, right? Now I totally get how this place inspired the Star Fox series. Do you want to go all the way to the summit? Think you’re up for that?”

           “We’ll see how we’re doing when it’s time to decide, honey,” she huffed back.

           Eventually, the gates became more spread out, like the people, and they emerged onto the rocky and green mountainside proper. Japan’s big crows perched on handrails and cawed at passersby, and small footpaths, some of them quite timeworn, branched off and were flanked by numerous individual shrines dedicated to loved ones, or led to clusters of offering boxes. Bottles of sake, lit candles, or personal items decorated the interiors of the shrines dedicated to people whose family or friends still remained. But the older tiny monuments for the forgotten were not neglected, as the priestesses in their traditional red and white attire kept wicks lit and offered prayers to every one of the small mountain’s permanent residents… even amid the heavy tourist presence.

           Treating the area with respect, Charlotte limited her picture taking and whispered to Gavin, “You’d figure they’d start calling them shrine attendants instead of maidens by now, but there’s something to be said about holding onto tradition.”

           “Such a contrast, isn’t it? The dutiful miko, continually performing rites, all while tourists like us cover the mountain and gawk at stuff. Not sure how you reconcile that.”

           “At least most of the visitors also know how to be quiet. I’m still kind of blown away by the noise levels here and in the cities, compared to American ones.”

           The two went up another flight of stairs, and arrived at a fork where a choice had to be made. As they caught their breath, Gavin looked at a posted map and said, “So, we can head this way to go back down, or…” he turned and looked at further stone steps that ascended the mountain, steeper this time, “this way to keep going to the summit.”

           “Well,” Charlotte puffed and stood up straight, “we’re probably only going to be here once. If you think you can make it up there, I’m game. I bet the view is amazing.”

           “All right, then. Let’s soldier on,” Gavin agreed and stepped towards the climb.

           “Gav,” Char said and grabbed his arm, “just… pace yourself, okay? I know you don’t think it’s anything serious, but you worry me with how you breathe sometimes after a workout. I kinda wish you’d see a doctor about that, honestly.”

           Gavin smiled reassuringly at her and replied, “Sweetie, I might not be in the best shape, but I’ve never not felt fairly fit, for the most part. If you really want me to, I’ll get a checkup when we’re home, okay?” He flexed and stretched on his legs for a moment. “Heck, I’ve gotten more exercise with all this walking around Japan than I have in years.”

           “I get that. But you don’t have to act tough around me, you know? You feel any shortness of breath or tightness in your chest, stop and take a rest, would you?”

           “Sure thing, Char. You sound like my mom sometimes. She’s always been a bit of a health nut. Look,” he showed her his smartwatch fitness tracking app, “these are the best numbers I’ve had all trip. Heart rhythm’s good—and I’ll have an awesome walk mapped out by the end of the day. Can we get going, before more people beat us there?”

           A touch hesitantly, Charlotte nodded, and they continued their journey upward to some of the more sacred sites. As they ascended, they became even more reverent as a hush seemed to fall upon the area, making it almost as quiet as Aokigahara.

           “Look at all these shrines,” Gavin whispered very quietly after a few minutes, as he looked around at visitors of all ages paying respects to dear friends, and others who still lived on in spirit within their families. “So many layers of histories and legacies…”

           “Mmm…” Charlotte murmured solemnly, and leaned on Gavin’s shoulder as they continued at a slow pace. “Graveyards and places like this always make me feel… not even melancholic. More like just plain sad. All of this, as heartfelt as it is, is the most we can do for people who left us. It never feels good enough, but how can you really honor long, complex lives, and all the lost memories and stories, while still living your own?”

           Gavin didn’t have an easy answer, so he kept quiet and focused on his pacing and breathing. After some rest breaks, they did make it to the summit, where a few dozen others had managed to claim victory. Those that were there lingered in the breeze, on a big rock past the final torii gates that awarded anyone who made the journey with a vista of much of Kyoto. Gavin and Charlotte became the next two among millions over the centuries to arrive and look upon Japan’s cultural center and ancient, former capital.

           “Would you look at that…” Gavin puffed out as he caught his breath. “This really made the trip worth it. You know, honey, it didn’t exactly feel like it, but I think this might’ve been the first time I climbed a mountain. That calls for a selfie, right?”

           “Uh—sure, yeah,” Charlotte agreed. “Your phone has the better camera. And try to get some of the gates in, to better show our friends where we are. You okay?”

           “Just fine,” Gavin said, then got back to his feet and opened his camera app.

           Once they got yet another picture of themselves at a famous landmark, Gavin sat back on the rock and, out of curiosity, started scrolling up through his trip album. He had lost track of how many snapshots and more serious pictures he had taken. Tens, then hundreds, then over a thousand pictures flew by. As he drew nearer to the earliest images, the more touristy and kitschier they became; he knew he was close to the start of the trip when his picture of a heated Japanese toilet appeared, or the one of him posing by the first of many vending machines they saw during their second day in Tokyo. Just past the pictures of the Ginza shopping district was a selfie worth stopping on.

           “Char, look.” He showed her the image of them standing in front of blossoming cherry trees, with Sakura petals floating down in the background. “Fresh off the plane, our very first real stop. Ueno Park, wasn’t it? We seem so excited. Like… green, even.”

           She stared at his screen, then wrapped an arm around his shoulder and leaned on it. “Feels so long ago. Gav. I think I’m feeling a sudden wave of homesickness.”

           “Yeah. Me, too,” he sighed and kissed her cheek. “Hey, butterfly? When we get back to our house somewhere down there… I think I’m ready to have a talk.”

           Before they knew it, the final few days had flown by, and they were cleaning up a cozy little home that almost felt like their own. Without many words left to say, they wiped down every plate and cup, and crammed their souvenirs into their luggage.

           On the bedroom tatami, all three provided futons had been stacked to cushion their weak foreigner backs. The last task was to roll them up, leaving them nice and tidy.

           Feeling sentimental about leaving Kyoto on a rainy morning, Gavin took out an American quarter—a frequent and trusty old acquaintance—and gave it to the shrine between the front door and a bike rack. Charlotte brought out the last of their rolling suitcases, closed things up, and put the key in the lockbox. With a final glance of a house where many had stayed before them and would do so after they were gone… they left.

           The magic of the trip was thoroughly gone by the time they stepped into their Narita hotel for the night, in preparation for the flight home the next morning. As was the way at the end of vacations, all anyone could think about was getting back. The last dinner at the hotel restaurant was tasty and pricey; one last little treat for the road.

           During sunset on the long flight home, as Charlotte snored next to him, Gavin took his gaze off his laptop that was playing the 1954 Toho classic Seven Samurai, to stare at the pink clouds passing by. It felt like the last vestiges of his childhood and carefree days were slipping away, and a new era would start the instant the wheels touched down. He was now okay about that, and the smile he saw in the window’s reflection proved it.

           “Hey Gav, Akito responded,” Charlotte said one evening in their living room in Phoenix, from the other end of the couch. She read off her phone, “He says… ‘No, we didn’t have a secret club. Is that an American thing? Haven’t you seen a schoolyard in our media? Where would we hide it? But we famously have afterschool clubs, and there were never more than three of us in any of the ones I attended. Does that count?’” She looked at him with a wry smile. “Are you sure you didn’t hallucinate all of it?”

           He looked at her and replied, “I’m positive. I can even show you the exact spot at Sherman Miller next time we visit Royal Valley.” He returned to the pressing matter of trying to get the infant in his arms to drink from a bottle. “Chloe, come on, baby girl. Wow, what a fussy child. Char, you ready to try chocolate milk yet? I’m out of ideas.”

           “Everything I read online says not until age two, honey,” Charlotte said. She then laughed as a movie scene played on their TV. “Look, Trevie! Her parents are piggies!”

           The three-year-old boy, who was watching from the rug where he was sprawled out, stared back and up at his mom and replied, “Dis movie’s weird, Mommy.”

           “Maybe we should’ve started with Totoro,” Gavin murmured. “It brings in the weirdness more gradually.” He then told his son, “Trevor, this is like a Disney movie in Japan, buddy. It’s a little different than what you’re used to. But if you wanna stop…”

           “No!” he shouted and returned his eyes to the screen.

           Charlotte chuckled. “I hope No Face’s transformation doesn’t scare him.”

           “Oh, I saw scarier stuff by the time I was his age. He’s a brave kid.”

           As the bathhouse location was introduced in Spirited Away, Gavin felt his eyes becoming heavy. Being a parent was a second full-time job, and if he couldn’t find sleep, it would inevitably find him. He nodded off with Chloe in his arms, drinking her milk at last, and fell into a light nap. After having boarded so many trains in Japan, they’d left a lasting impact on his dreams. That evening, he felt and heard one approaching again.

           Nearly eight years after the trip, in a certain Akihabara game store, the older and knowledgeable owner was happy to practice English and talk to a mid-forties American in a leather jacket, who came in for a peek and didn’t expect an extended chat. Not that she had anywhere to be as early evening snow fluttered onto the Electric Town outside.

           “Sure, Japan’s motorcycle culture interests me, too,” Vanni said, and smirked as she patted at her leathers. “Did these give it away? Went to a few museums to see classic bikes already. Now I’m on the hunt for some rare music; hitting shops like this one. I’m really only here for a week, and mostly sticking to Tokyo. Visiting with old friends.”

           “Ah, yes. Many stores,” the clerk said with a smile and a nod. “And… games?”

           “Mm, sorry. It’s a nice store, and I used to play and collect, but not so much anymore. Still love stopping by for places like this, though, reliving the glory days.” She leaned on the counter. “But if I see an arcade cabinet I’ve never played before… Agh, that’s always tempting. Okay, to be honest, the classics usually pull me over, too.”

           “Arcade? We have that,” he replied and gestured over to the corner unit.

           “I noticed. One of those old Touhous, isn’t it? Yeah, I’ll take a look.”

           She went over to the dusty old cabinet, on a 75% discount, and was about to start her free-play when the high score list appeared. Her heart skipped a beat and she froze when she saw a GAV in tenth place. With a trembling smile, she sniffled and just watched the attract mode instead, to ensure the name would stay. At least a little longer.