When David becomes enveloped with a foreign culture in an effort to find a career, he quickly suffers from culture shock and homesickness before he can leave; however, a girl is transferred to his office, and she shows him a side of Japan that he di...
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This time around, I was in Tokyo-proper, working with the remaining members of the church that Weasley was working with. I think they were Americans, too, but I can't quite remember. They might have been Canadians, as this church was international, even involving Ghanaians at one point.
A massive rainstorm came in, and I stayed late to help them get everything figured out for their flights. They had loads of equipment. Speakers, sound systems, and instruments. They had several locals helping them get situated, and I was their appointed translator. By the time my services were no longer needed, it was almost 1 in the morning, and I couldn't fathom the idea of walking all the way to the train system and then all the way to my apartment, so I opted for a hotel room instead, which was only a 5 minute walk away.
I stopped for some food at a Ramen-ya (a restaurant that specializes in ramen dishes). I think the only place open at that time was this place in particular before going to get a hotel room. Despite being here before, I felt that the atmosphere was different. I felt my chest tighten and the hairs on the back of my neck stand. I had the sudden urge to leave but decided against it when I saw the man behind the counter bow slightly when he saw me. We exchanged some words, and I got my room for the night.
While I was leaving, however, he stopped me. "You have to use the stairs."
My heart skipped a beat. I turned and walked back to the desk. "Naze?" <Why?> My voice quavered, and I hated the way I sounded. Too much like a foreigner— a gaijin as Kaeda had once mentioned me as. The man looked at me and apologized, now telling me the elevators were out of order.
The only thing I could weasel out of my throat was, "Oh." I backed away and looked at the door that led to the stairwell, feeling utterly hopeless. I almost wanted to walk in the rain to the train station and return to my apartment, but I was so tired and desperate that I wanted to sleep, rest, and have a moment for myself. For some reason, I thought this night would be different.
I was terribly wrong.
The silence that greeted me on the other end of the doorway was invasive. It entered my head and hollowed out my thoughts; immediately, I felt unwelcome. I felt an unseen presence beside me. Even though this wasn't particularly new to me, it also felt physical. Steadily, my heart started to pound while my senses urged me to walk home. All I had to do was remember all the times I had been poked, scratched, bitten, tormented, and tortured while lying in my bed. I decided to gamble despite it all. So, I pushed past these thoughts and started to ascend the stairs, where I felt something close behind me the whole time I walked.
I was fridged by the time I reached my room, not to mention worried to the bone with fatigue. That journey I had up those stairs was a marathon that I was ill-prepared for. My head throbbed while my body ached. When I brought my hands to my face I discovered tears mixed with the sweat that I failed to notice before coming into my room.