The Passengers on the Hankyu Line

Obayashi Station

Obayashi is a lovely station for a respite.

It had been about six months since Shoko had moved to the town of Obayashi, after the elderly woman she met on the train had recommended she stop there on the way home from her incursion.

Luckily, the company where she had been working had a fairly good reputation, so it hadn’t been all that difficult for Shoko to find a new job. Whereas previously her office had been located on Midosuji Avenue in central Osaka, this time she decided to look for a job in Kobe. She now worked in sales for a boutique design firm in Sannomiya.

Her former colleagues had told her repeatedly that she shouldn’t be the one to quit, but she had protested, claiming that it was too painful.

Putting on a brave face and smiling through it had been her final act of aggression. Her superiors had regretfully accepted her letter of resignation. Shoko didn’t give a damn what happened with her ex-fiancé and the woman who had stolen him away.

Shoko’s quitting meant that the two of them got their wish and wouldn’t have to see her any more, and that her colleagues’ sympathy for her and their memory of the scandal would fade as the proverbial seventy-five days passed.

It wasn’t only the atmosphere of Obayashi that had appealed to Shoko – the neighbourhood turned out to be very livable. It was the perfect halfway point between Umeda and Sannomiya, a thirty-minute trip to either Osaka or Kobe.

There were plenty of supermarkets and convenience stores, and her rent was quite reasonable. Shoko had told the real estate broker what she could afford to spend, and she ended up having too many options to choose from.

Ultimately, the broker found her a charming studio apartment that was a five-minute walk from the station, where the rent was even lower than what Shoko had originally proposed.

Her new workplace was rewarding. Or, perhaps more to the point, she seemed to have discovered that working in sales suited her.

Depending upon her workload, her weekend schedule was sometimes uncertain, but since she happened to be single at the moment and her friends were often busy, she didn’t feel especially inconvenienced by not always having the entire weekend to herself.

Today, a Saturday, wasn’t busy so she only had to work a half-day, and since she didn’t have any particular plans for the rest of the day, she had been on her way home. Perhaps she ought to have done a bit of shopping in Sannomiya, that way she would have avoided finding herself in the same train carriage as that gaggle of older ladies.

All the same, it was a first to have one of them throw her bag onto the seat just as Shoko was about to sit down. Any anger was overtaken by shock. The young female college student sitting nearby appeared to have the same response. They were both stunned.

The female college student seemed to have a strong sense of fairness, and was about to demonstrate it, but Shoko knew that it was more prudent to steer clear of her.

The bag-tosser among them seemed like the type to be spoiling for a pointless confrontation, all in the name of preparing for a pack attack. Shoko could easily imagine it descending into an unseemly mudslinging match in front of everyone. She was loath to be drawn into such a scene, and she certainly wouldn’t want to subject the female college student to something like that either.

Shoko had silenced her with a wave of her hand and the whispered comment, What a waste of a nice handbag, and the student, reading the situation, had reconsidered and composed herself.

Shoko had simply moved on, several cars further down, to stand near the door that, upon arriving at Obayashi Station, would be positioned directly by the staircase.

She remained slightly concerned about whether, after she had left, the student might get into a squabble with the ladies. But as the landscape that rushed by shifted from ‘city’ to ‘village’, Shoko’s worry receded. Beyond Koto’en, where the scenery became noticeably more serene, was her favourite part of the railway line.

‘See, look! See the withered bracken?’

A couple who looked like students had boarded at Koto’en, and the girl – much shorter than the guy – said this excitedly as she pointed at the slope of the railway cutting at the first crossing past the station.

‘Yeah, that’s definitely bracken. So?’

The tall guy, who had sort of a punk look, nodded. Something was at odds about their appearance – they didn’t seem like they were from the Kansai area. Shoko concluded that they were pointing at the brownish, hunched and withered ferns on the slope.

Really? So those are bracken?

Shoko, who had grown up in the city, had only ever registered bracken as something that might appear as part of an early course in a kaiseki meal. Similarly, when she ordered sansai soba with edible wild plants, she could never tell which was bracken and which was royal fern, or wasn’t sure if those sliced vegetables with the hole in the middle were bamboo shoots or something else.

But these two could identify those withered plants as bracken, when they were out of season and quite different from what they looked like when cooked and served. Shoko eyed the couple with newfound respect.

The girl said that once spring came around she wanted to go and pick the bracken, and the guy said absolutely not, no way should she try to get down a forty-five-degree slope like that … it was bittersweet for Shoko to listen in on their amusing exchange.

Bitter, because she envied their youth.

She missed what happened next in their discussion to merit the guy suddenly flicking his girl’s forehead. The girl might have protested but, to an outsider’s perspective, it was clear what was going on.

When the boyfriend had looked away from her, his cheeks were such a deep shade of vermilion, it looked as if the colour had been painted on with a brush. His girlfriend must have said something especially endearing to him. He was so much taller that, by huddling close to her, she wouldn’t be able to see the colour of his cheeks – he was using his height to hide his embarrassment – though when they got off at Nigawa, she still seemed a little unhappy.

After they disembarked, the train sped on towards Obayashi. Shoko had never actually timed it but she had the sense that the interval between Nigawa and Obayashi was the longest distance between stops along the Imazu Line. The landscape became more and more mountainous and, to Shoko who had only ever lived in urban environments, their vividness was still a novelty. Despite what it may have felt like, the train line was rather compact – on a bicycle, from Obayashi to Nigawa was only about a ten-minute ride, and probably not even half an hour to get to Nishinomiya-Kitaguchi.

Before reaching Obayashi Station, the train pitched sharply. Maybe the driver was a rookie because the braking wasn’t smooth at all and Shoko, caught off guard, had to hastily grab onto a strap to keep her balance.

But she had chosen her spot perfectly and, in the station, the door opened right in front of the staircase. As Shoko stepped off the train, a chorus of high-pitched screams came rushing down the stairs.

It was a group of girls wearing yellow caps and red randoseru backpacks, probably in their first or second year of elementary school.

It had seemed like they were rushing to catch the train, but there was something else going on. They darted behind the staircase, towards the rear of the platform where there was an escalator, and stood there snickering.

Despite their young age, there was already a teenage spitefulness in the way they laughed, and Shoko knitted her brows together.

Unaware that there was an adult on the other side of the staircase observing and listening to their antics, the girls started talking conspiratorially. Their voices were fairly loud for sharing secrets, probably because of their excitement.

‘OK, A-chan, you hide here! Then when B-san comes along, we’ll pretend not to know where you are and we’ll make her leave!’

‘Uh, OK …’ The one being made to hide, presumably A-chan, sounded confused.

Shoko sensed someone coming and looked up to see that a girl had stopped midway down the stairs. She too had on a yellow cap and a red randoseru backpack. This must have been B-san.

B-san had a sort of tense look on her face as she came down the rest of the stairs. She passed by Shoko and headed towards the other girls.

Shoko leaned casually against the stairs’ handrail, curious to see how this would play out.

‘Oh, B-san!’ exclaimed the girl who seemed to be the leader of the pack, her voice sweet and fake. ‘If you’re looking for A-chan, I think she left without you! We were looking for her too, she must have taken the earlier train?’

B-san hadn’t asked them anything about A-chan. Keeping a wary distance from the group, she stood there, on edge, completely ignoring the girl who was putting on the show and the others behind her who were unable to hold back their sniggers.

A-chan was still hiding behind the staircase, only a few steps away.

As B-san stood rooted to the spot, the leader of the group suddenly play-acted concern.

‘Didn’t you hear? I said, A-chan already went home!’

Shoko was behind B-san and couldn’t tell what her expression was.

‘Thank you for telling me even though I didn’t ask.’

Well said! Shoko thought.

As B-san again passed alongside Shoko, who was now inadvertently fully absorbed in this drama, the girl’s expression remained tense, though she showed no sign of tears. She kept walking towards the front of the platform, all the way to the end, where she took a seat on the bench that was the furthest away.

Her erect posture conveyed a specific message:

Fine. I won’t look over there, even when the next train arrives. And don’t worry, once we’re on the train I won’t check to see whether or not A-chan is with you either.

As young as they were, these girls were already spiteful, indecisive and prideful. Quite a range of catty behaviour was already on display in this little circle.

Something about B-san’s youthful pride was compelling to Shoko. She walked over to where B-san sat on the bench.

‘Mind if I sit next to you?’

B-san looked up at Shoko dubiously. The self-assertive set of her features reminded Shoko of her younger self.

‘… Go ahead.’

Nowadays children probably received strict instructions not to talk to strangers. It was perfectly clear that B-san was suspicious of Shoko.

‘You don’t know me at all but don’t worry, I mean you no harm.’

‘… OK.’

‘I just wanted to tell you how much I admired the way you handled those girls back there.’

B-san’s eyes grew wide, and then her tears seemed to spill out uncontrollably.

Shoko took a handkerchief out of her bag and handed it to her. She’d read that recently, for security purposes, elementary school students no longer wore nametags. If she hadn’t overheard the girls’ loud whispering earlier, she wouldn’t have been able to guess her name.

‘Here, take this, you can have it.’

‘But my mom will get mad at me …’

‘You can tell her that you fell over and a nice lady gave it to you. When the train comes, you don’t want them to know you’ve been crying. For now, they can’t see past me.’

B-san pursed her lips tightly and, without speaking, began to wipe her eyes with the handkerchief. So proud.

Shoko peeked over her shoulder and could tell that the girls in the group excluding B-san were trying to figure out what was going on here.

‘For a girl like you, life might not be all that easy. But that doesn’t mean that you won’t find people who see you. There will be plenty of people who admire the way you handle yourself. Like I do.’

So keep your chin up.

B-san looked up from behind the handkerchief.

‘Are you happy?’

The girl’s question hit a sore spot for Shoko. She forced a smile and offered the following:

‘I thought I was on the way to being happy, but I had a little setback and I’m in the midst of starting over.’

My new job is going well. I moved to a wonderful new place. And – when happiness betrayed me, I took my revenge. I have no regrets.

‘But I don’t regret it. I’m getting a bit of a later start but I still believe I’ll find happiness.’

‘Then I believe I can find it too!’

They heard the distant clanging of the bell at the crossing. The next train about to arrive was bound for Nishinomiya-Kitaguchi.

The train came and went on the opposite platform, and then there was the sound of the bell at the crossing for the train that would arrive on this platform.

‘Well then, take care of yourself.’

Shoko stood up and the girl smiled and waved at her. She sat up even taller and looked straight in front of her. So as not to see her enemies.

When she got to the staircase, Shoko paused. She regarded the girls coldly. They were still children, and yet already women. They did not merit any indulgence. The girls could sense scorn in the way that Shoko looked at them. But instead of returning her gaze, all they could do was avert their eyes awkwardly.

Even at their age, girls will assess their rivals’ rank and treat them accordingly, and Shoko knew enough not to allow herself to be taken in by children. She was capable of intimidating almost anyone, be they young or old, man or woman. She was good at hiding her fangs but then, once her fangs had been bared, she knew how to go in for the kill.

That elderly woman she’d never met before had expressed her concern, or rather her reservations:

It can be hard for a woman like you to find happiness.

Shoko forced a smile as she thought about B-san and her pride.

They had made a pact together, to each find happiness. Like what that young couple who had got off at Nigawa seemed to have with each other. Happiness that meant not being triggered by the sight of new love.

Shoko was halfway up the stairs when the train slid into the platform. As the doors opened and passengers poured out—

‘Hey! You there!’

Among the commotion of disembarking passengers, a voice rang out and then the clack of heels bounding up the stairs. Shoko realized that the voice and the footsteps were directed towards her, so she turned around.

‘It is you! We saw each other before.’

It was the female college student she had encountered on the train earlier, when the designer bag had been thrown onto the seat.

‘What are you doing here? Weren’t you on the previous train?’

‘I could say the same to you – what brings you here now, on the next train? I certainly hope there wasn’t a row with those ladies …?’

‘Oh no, nothing like that.’ The student waved her hand in front of her face to ease Shoko’s concern. ‘Just experiencing life’s rich pageant.’

Shoko chuckled at her odd choice of words.

‘As a matter of fact, I myself had a taste of life’s rich pageant right after I got off the train.’

As they walked side by side along the passage heading towards the west ticket gate, the student was the one to chuckle.

‘But who’da thought it – quite an amazing coincidence!’

‘Truly!’

Shoko felt almost cheerful. Maybe a seed of happiness had been tossed her way.

‘Say, if you have time, would you like to get a coffee? My taste of life’s rich pageant is worth sharing.’

‘I’d love to! I can tell you about my pageant too.’

‘Does it have anything to do with me?’

‘It does! I mean, you were there, so …’

Hmm, could it have to do with that gaggle of ladies? Shoko’s curiosity was piqued.

‘I only just recently moved here so I don’t know the area very well. Do you know a place?’

‘Do you mind going over to Koma Road? There’s an Italian restaurant where you can order a cake special that comes with coffee – and the refills are free.’

‘Koma Road, you say?’

‘It goes towards Nakatsuhama.’

‘Ah, I think I’ve heard of it – if you turn right at the intersection where the wholesale supermarket is – is that where you mean?’

‘Yes, that’s right. It’s inexpensive and it’s pretty good too.’

The student’s suggestion was probably made with her own limited budget in mind. Shoko could have easily treated her, no matter how fancy the place, but that wasn’t what this was about. She had a feeling that, despite the difference in their age, the two of them could be friends. But if Shoko were to pay the first time, it would set them up on an unequal footing, and then their connection might not have the chance to develop. That’s why it was better to go along with the reasonably priced option.

‘It might not be ritzy enough for you, though …’

See, she’s already feeling inferior!

‘Not at all. I may have a job but I live on my own and have to economize. Sometimes it’s worth indulging yourself, but I love a good bargain – like the discounts at the supermarket right before the store’s about to close, or a conveyor-belt sushi restaurant!’

‘In that case, let’s go!’

To an outsider, they might have looked like sisters. The thought made Shoko smile.

There it was, her first step towards happiness.

And after this cake-and-coffee date, she will have made a new friend. Which, at her age, was not such an easy thing to do.