Freedom of Self

Chapter 2

As soon as his alarm rang, Arata rolled over to shut it off and got out of bed. He put on his slippers and trudged to the kitchen, already hungry. He beat two eggs, fried them and heated some leftover rice from the day before.

When Arata moved to Tokyo, his cooking was awful to the point it made him reluctant to eat his own food. Soon enough, he started losing weight due to his poor diet, consisting mainly of convenience store bentos. However, after Fujita-san hired him and offered him nutritious meals daily, Arata regained some color in his cheeks.

Understanding that he couldn't always rely on his thoughtful manager, the young man came to work even earlier than he was supposed to and spent time next to the chefs, in the hopes of picking out some basic recipes.

Slowly but surely, Arata became skilled enough to cook for himself on a daily basis, and, as a result, he gained confidence in his ability to live on his own, miles away from his parents.

As he sat down to eat, the young man checked the time, and began gulping down the tamagoyaki and the rice, rinsing his mouth with a cup of tea before getting dressed. He brushed his teeth and swiftly ran a comb through his bangs, rushing to grab his belongings and slip on his shoes. He locked the door and bolted to the elevator. If he was lucky, he could catch the earlier train and avoid the huge crowd.

Arata hopped in the elevator with two of his neighbors and, bidding them "good morning", he smoothed his T-shirt down and checked the time on his phone. He would have to hurry. As the doors of the elevator slowly opened, the young man scurried out of the building and started jogging towards the station, which was no farther than ten minutes from his place.

By the time he arrived on the platform, Arata had worked up a light sweat, but fortunately, he was just in time for the train. As he predicted, he found several empty seats and sat down with a huff of relief. Glad that he didn't have to stand up, barely hanging on to a plastic strap while being sandwiched between people just as sweaty as him.

Arata was rather uptight about his personal space and had always been uncomfortable with skin ship. The young man's evasive attitude when rejecting personal touch sometimes hurt his friends' feelings, but he could not help it.

As the train cart gently tilted side to side, Arata covered his mouth and yawned. Avoiding the crowd cost Arata about a half an hour of sleep, but it was a necessary sacrifice, in his opinion. He looked out the window, rather tired of the same views he saw every day, and waited patiently for the train to reach his stop.

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Content with the professors' explanations and the amount of studying he had done in the library, Arata slipped his backpack on his shoulder and headed to the restaurant in a light jog. Fujita-san called him to see if he could come in earlier than usual, as the restaurant was quite crowded. After everything she had done for him, the last thing the young man wished to do was to let the manager down when she needed him.

As he approached the intersection where he was supposed to take a left turn, Arata weaved through the other people and looked down at his watch for a second to check the time. However, as he raised his head, he accidentally bumped into a man who unexpectedly came into view. The papers the stranger was flipping through crumpled slightly and Arata's bag slipped off and hung on his forearm.

"Ah, I'm so sorry." Arata exclaimed as he adjusted the strap back onto his shoulder.

"No, forgive me. I was distracted and got in your way." the older man apologized sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He stood a couple of inches taller than Arata, with a rather embarrassed smile on his lips.

"I'm sorry about your papers." Arata insisted, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"It's no problem at all, they were of no use anyway." the other man reassured him. He spoke in a very gentle manner, his voice pleasant and modulated. "Excuse me, but do you happen to know where Kame Restaurant is?"