A Mark That Lasts Forever

Roommate | 何者 section 1

The station is bustling with people, everyone dressed in winter coats and snow boots. The crisp air is filled with a mixture of chatter and the beeping of ticket gates. Beyond the gates are screens displaying train times and destinations. It's a scene I'm not particularly used to, as I can still count on one hand how many times I'd visited Sapporo before.

I approach the JR line entrance with a ticket in one hand and a suitcase in the other. My shoulders feel weighed down by the straps of my backpack.

"Well, we'll see you off here," Dad says.

I stop and turn to face my parents and younger sister.

"Oh, Makoto," Mom sighs and steps in front of me to give me a hug. "Take care of yourself. Don't forget to eat three meals a day." She steps back, eyebrows furrowing. "And don't give off a bad impression to anyone with that gaudy blond hair."

"I won't," I comply, giving my best 'good son' smile. I dyed my hair this color with the intention of turning more heads.

Dad gives me his usual silly grin and says, "Be careful over there. Don't go too crazy."

"Got it," I answer, wondering what he pictures me doing while I'm away.

I turn toward my sister, who looks back at me with a twisted mouth and crosses her arms.

"Don't miss me too much, Mai," I say sarcastically.

"I'm looking forward to some peace and quiet," she says. We're both okay with not hugging.

"You'd better go. Don't miss your train," Dad advises.

I nod and begin walking toward the ticket gate.

"I'm off. See you guys," I call over my shoulder.

"Come home for New Year's!" Mom reminds me as she waves her arm up high.

I wave back before slipping my ticket through the gate, its doors welcoming me through. Noticing my family still waving, I continue to look back and smile while I head toward the platform. I have to hold back the urge to go running for the escalator in celebration of my freedom.

Entering the platform, I watch my first train glistening in the sun as it pulls in. Butterflies begin to form in my stomach. I double-check my ticket for my seat number as I get on.

Once settled, I take another look at the navigation app on my phone and make a mental note that I won't arrive in Tokyo until 7pm. It's going to be a long trip, but at least now I can say I've ridden a bullet train, so I won't look like a small-town bumpkin lost in a big city.

Sapporo from outside the train window is still covered in snow. As objects outside turn into blurred lines, I begin to imagine Tokyo's busy streets and skyscrapers. I'm so excited to check out Shinjuku and Shibuya. I'd go straight there if I didn't have a huge suitcase.

My daydream is interrupted when my window goes black, and I'm staring directly at myself. I take a minute to fix my bangs. Why did my hair have to choose today of all days to misbehave? It's a good thing my face makes up for it. Once somewhat satisfied with my hair, I pull my phone back out of my coat pocket to find a new email from my university—or my soon-to-be university.

I am finally, finally doing this. I know I don't really hate rural Hokkaido life, or the long freezing winters in meter-deep snow, or knowing every single person in town, but the idea of discovering new freedoms thrills me. I think about being able to get anywhere on a train, or go outside in March without having to dress like an Eskimo, or buy anything I want without having to wait several days for it to arrive in the mail. Then I remember I haven't even met my new roommates yet. I grin at all the potential for a dramatic social life that awaits me. I realize I probably look ridiculous, smiling to myself, but I don't care. I'm excited to be able to meet everyone at the house for the first time tonight.