The Passengers on the Hankyu Line

Obayashi Station

Just what’s so lovely about this station?

Shoko had got off the train at the old lady’s recommendation and was taking in her surroundings.

She considered going into the waiting room on the same platform, but the windowed, cold-looking interior contained nothing more than a row of hard plastic benches – nothing refined save for the alternating colours of pink and blue. Though air-conditioned in summer and heated in winter, the waiting room was still rather rustic. On rainy days, the windows probably fogged up with condensation.

The lavatory was clean, but still, nothing particularly special, and the vending machines looked fairly ordinary too.

Baffled, she headed towards the ticket gate when—

A tiny tailcoat whizzed by, followed by a cacophony of chirping from above.

Shoko looked up to see a swallow’s nest, with a clutch of baby swallows leaning out over the sides.

The parent bird shovelled food into the chicks’ mouths, before flying off again in a rush, as the same ruckus rose up from the other side.

She turned around to see another nest. Looking about, she counted three more while an endless chorus of baby swallows swelled amid the fluttering wings of their parents.

Under each nest, a cradle had been crudely fashioned. And beneath the cradle located just inside the ticket gate she spotted a notice written in vivid brushstrokes:

We have returned again this year. Please excuse our commotion and kindly look after us until our fledglings leave the nest.

A message that would melt even the toughest heart. It must have been written by someone who worked at the station.

Signs calling attention to swallows’ nests weren’t uncommon, but the ones Shoko usually encountered were to warn about the birds’ droppings. She didn’t ever recall one that played at being a humorous greeting from the swallows themselves.

She had bought a ticket that allowed her to go as far as Umeda but she decided to have a look around first. It was such a tiny station, there wasn’t even a space for drop-offs. Instead, pedestrians came and went along a gently sloping, forked path that was paved in asphalt on one side and brick on the other.

She exited through the ticket gate and headed down the asphalt path to the point where the brick path veered suddenly to the left. There were a lot of parked bicycles and as she started down the brick path, she noticed a mini-supermarket and beyond that a drugstore.

Under an eave of the supermarket was a white umbrella, hanging upside down by its handle.

What could that be for?

She walked up to it in wonder, then clapped her hands together.

Above the umbrella that hung from the soffit lay a swallow’s nest, with the canopy of the inverted umbrella positioned to catch bird droppings.

Shoko couldn’t help but express her awe at this innovation to the security guard, an older man, who was keeping an eye on the bicycles.

‘How thoughtful!’ she said.

The security guard, who she guessed to be a part-timer who had taken this job after reaching retirement age, turned and regarded Shoko with a dubious gaze. He appeared not to have heard what she’d said.

‘What a good idea!’ Speaking a bit louder, Shoko pointed to the umbrella hanging upside down. This time he seemed to have understood.

‘Oh, yes, that. We mustn’t take down the swallows’ nests. They travel such a great distance, they’re auspicious birds. But when they build their nest here, what can we do? Customers will get covered with droppings. So we all came up with this idea.’

Obayashi is a lovely station.

Shoko finally understood what the old lady on the train had meant by those words.

A lovely station and what seemed like a lovely town (although it was so small that calling it a town was a bit of a stretch).

It made her want to buy something from this store that hung an umbrella from its eaves in order to honour both the swallows and their customers. Come to think of it, she had barely eaten anything at the wedding reception and now she was a bit peckish. There was a bench out front too, so perhaps she would treat herself to a little something to eat and some tea to go with it?

Shoko bowed to the security guard and went inside. At the front was an array of vegetables at bargain prices – she was tempted to buy some but thought better of it; she didn’t feel like carrying them all the way home.

It didn’t take long to make her way around the entire store, but for such a small space, it had an impressive selection. The mini-market was modest in scale but extremely resourceful with its stock, plus it stayed open late at night. Particularly convenient for someone who lived alone. You could quickly grow tired of eating meals from the convenience store. To have a store like this in the neighbourhood would make grocery shopping fun, even if both of you worked … No sooner did her mind wander than she remembered how that opportunity was now lost to her, and she felt a sudden pang in her chest.

There was an assortment of prepared foods near the cash register: bento meals and such like, as well as a basket piled up with onigiri. Except these were not typical convenience-store-style packaged items – the rice was studded with pickles, rolled by hand into balls and wrapped in cellophane. Charmed by their homeyness, Shoko selected an ume-shiso onigiri along with a bottle of green tea, and paid for them.

Today’s clear skies had offered a break in the rainy season, and the bench felt pleasantly warm. Without a second thought about creasing her dress, she finally sat down, her stubborn insistence on standing while on the train now evaporated.

The onigiri looked simple and unpretentious, like the ones her mother used to roll and press into shape with all the requisite maternal care. Shoko savoured it, chewing slowly and washing it down with the tea. That single rice ball was enough to quell her hunger.

Shoko threw the empty wrapper and bottle in the trash bin, and then called out to the security guard she’d spoken to earlier.

‘Excuse me?’

‘What can I do for you?’ the security guard responded affably, perhaps still feeling pleased about her praise for the umbrella idea.

‘Is there a store around here where I can buy some clothes?’

This mini-market didn’t have a clothing section so she figured it wouldn’t be rude to ask him.

The security guard cocked his head, confounded. Perhaps it was unlikely he’d know about any local women’s boutiques.

Eventually, though, he pointed to a large supermarket that faced the sloping path towards the station.

‘I think they have a ladies’ clothing section in there.’

Compared to this cosy little store, the building looked huge – there was no way of missing it.

Shoko thanked the man and bowed, then started down the slope.

Shoko in her stark white dress received a few non-judgemental looks. This town had an everyday feel to it, and most of the people coming and going in the early afternoon along this sloping path were dressed casually. Her dress stood out conspicuously.

There was no point in rushing now, so she strolled down the street towards the supermarket that the security guard had pointed out.

In the four-level supermarket, the ladies’ clothing section was not far from the escalator to the second floor. As she browsed around, Shoko was aware of people’s gaze upon her, still without any sense of meanness. The clothing on offer was targeted at older women, or else young housewives – it wasn’t the kind of place where Shoko would usually shop.

She selected an acceptable pair of trousers and a knit top, which she brought to the cash register.

‘Excuse me, I’d like to wear these right away. Could you cut the tags off so that I can change into them in the fitting room?’

Clad in a navy uniform, the female employee gave Shoko a look. After showing her to the fitting room, she lingered outside while Shoko changed, as if suspecting she was up to some kind of clever trick. Even if that wasn’t the case, clearly Shoko’s dress had been noticed.

Having changed out of it, Shoko stuffed the dress into her plastic bag, making the package as compact as possible and tying off the handles.

She pulled back the curtain and came out of the fitting room, and when the employee saw what was crammed into the transparent plastic bag, she exclaimed with surprise, ‘But miss, your dress …’

She was obviously concerned that the outfit Shoko had changed out of was much more expensive than what she had just purchased.

‘It’s fine,’ Shoko said as she slipped her high heels back on and picked up her handbag. These dressy accessories were a bit incongruous with her now-casual clothing, but not quite enough to attract attention. ‘Well then …’ Shoko bowed her head as she departed, leaving the employee standing dumbfounded.

Once outside, Shoko tossed the bag stuffed with the dress into a garbage bin.

Considering what she had spent on it, perhaps she ought to have got rid of it at a consignment shop, but the dress was tainted with Shoko’s grudge and with the successful incursion into the wedding reception of the woman who had slept with her fiancé. Shoko wouldn’t want to inflict that misfortune on anyone else, so her better judgement had prevailed.

And anyway, it would have been a futile effort to recoup a trifling sum. The hundred thousand yen she’d paid for the dress was the price of her incursion – and it had been money well spent. She needn’t worry about the shoes and the bag – those were things she’d already had in her wardrobe.

These thoughts cleared her head.

It was a pain to have to carry the wedding favour all the way home, but those items would need to go into the recycling so that couldn’t be helped.

Having come all the way here, she figured she might as well have a good look around, so she set off walking again, heading for a narrow, bustling street when—

Whoosh!

From the eaves of a boxed-lunch shop and a beauty parlour nestling along the street, three swallows swooped low, like a fluttering flash. A closer look revealed that the eaves of these shops were also home to nests.

Of course, Shoko had seen swallows before, but it had been a long time since she’d had such an up-close-and-personal encounter with their nesting behaviour and swooping flight patterns.

This town was far from sleepy – rather, it was as lively as one could expect for a population of its size. But for migrating swallows, it clearly seemed like a fine place to build a nest and to raise their young.

Indeed – a lovely station in a lovely town.

It was just as the old woman had said.

Though since Shoko was unfamiliar with the area, best not to venture too far. She’d do a loop around the supermarket and then head back to the station. The trees lining the road around the supermarket’s parking lot looked to be in full bloom.

They appeared to be the same variety of tree but in different colours, practically bursting with flowers in alternating white and pink. She was filled with awe – even the landscaping was a delight.

She had made it almost all the way around the supermarket so she continued walking under those pink and white blossoms as she headed towards the station.

Passing a drugstore along the way, she decided to pick up a travel packet of facial cleansing wipes.

She walked idly on towards the station. Despite the narrowness of the streets, there was a steady stream of cars coming and going – it seemed the town was thriving.

It’d be nice to live here someday … even Shoko was surprised by the thought that flitted through her mind. The location did seem unexpectedly convenient and livable.

Slowly – and reluctantly – she arrived back at the path to the station.

How boring to take the same road, she thought as she bypassed the slope she had come down earlier, choosing instead to take the next street that was also in the direction of the tracks. Sure enough, a train’s pantograph came into view. The end of this street connected up with the forked brick path outside the ticket gate. She could see the turnstiles ahead.

She climbed back up the gentle slope and as she hovered in front of the ticket machine, she made another pleasant discovery.

The sides of the machines were decorated with art that was clearly the work of small hands, celebrating the Tanabata Star Festival.

These decorations were made and donated by students from XX elementary school. May the lovers Princess Orihime (the Vega star) and Hikoboshi (the Altair star) be reunited again this year.

From the looks of it, this must have been the youngest students – rather than the entire elementary school – who decided among themselves to make these decorations and offer them to the station employees, who had accepted them graciously, as adults are wont to do.

Nevertheless, how many grownups nowadays would respectfully display children’s clumsy decorations? Especially when they weren’t those children’s teachers or parents.

Shoko bought another ticket for Umeda, and after passing through the ticket gate she called out to the person in the booth.

‘Excuse me …’

‘Yes, what is it?’ A salt-and-pepper-haired station employee emerged from the booth and responded amiably.

Shoko reached into the wedding favour bag and pulled out the package of hikigashi sweets.

‘Perhaps you and your colleagues would enjoy these?’ she said, setting the cookies on the counter.

The man looked a bit puzzled and before he could offer an excuse, Shoko continued:

‘I was invited to a little event and these were the favour that was handed out. I have a condition that prevents me from eating sweets. These cookies are from the hotel, and it would be a waste to throw them away, so if you’re willing to take them, I’d be grateful.’

In contrast to her dress, bought for the express purpose of her incursion, these cookies were blameless. What’s more, they had been baked at the hotel with the sincerest of intentions. Relinquishing them was a matter of convenience for Shoko – as long as someone else ate them, she would avoid the guilt of letting them go to waste.

‘You say you have a condition – are you diabetic?’ The station employee looked concerned. ‘What a pity, you’re so young. Isn’t there someone at home who might enjoy them?’

‘I live alone. And I was so happy to see that sign over there, I’d like to do something for the station workers before I go. As a sort of treat.’ Shoko pointed towards the notice about the swallows.

The man scratched his head.

‘They come here every year and they’re so adorable. I’m the one who built the cradles but I enlisted someone with far better penmanship for the sign.’

‘It’s lovely.’

As Shoko bowed and moved along, the station employee picked up the fancy cookies from the Takarazuka Hotel.

‘Thank you very much! I will tell the person who penned the sign!’ The man bowed deeply.

When she got to the platform, the train was about to pull in but Shoko stepped into the lavatory.

She took a look at her party makeup with fresh eyes – it really looked like warpaint.

Make me gorgeous. With the wedding in mind, for the first time in her life, she’d had her makeup done by a professional. I want to be the most beautiful I’ve ever looked. The makeup artist was highly skilled and indeed Shoko’s glamorous appearance had upstaged the bride.

The look on that woman’s face when she saw Shoko. As if she’d seen a demon, or karma incarnate.

Wringing that look out of her had been well worth the cost of a professional makeup artist. In fact it was priceless.

Her work was done.

Shoko pulled out the wipes she had just bought and began to clean her face. It took five sheets to fully remove the elaborately applied splendour.

She redid her makeup with the products she had on hand. A natural look this time.

Apart from her somewhat drab spur-of-the-moment outfit, she looked almost like her usual self.

The incursion was over.

Shoko could not yet wholly let go of her resentment, but her thrust had hit the mark. And she had no regrets.

When will my time come?

It was thanks to the old woman, who had struck up a conversation with her on the train, that Shoko could even begin to ponder that question.