We left the love hotel (we’re over our shame in sincerely calling it that now) in the morning. Mom woke me up earlier than I would’ve liked, out of her excitement to go and meet Onkar at the fancy hotel he was staying at before his checkout time. He had one night booked there, planned to stay with us the second night and had another place booked for the rest of the trip.
He had sounded pretty excited to show us his room when we spoke to him yesterday, and even though it was quite a journey from Odawara to his place in Tokyo before in the morning, mom had decided for the both of us that we would make it. Because we (I) woke up a little late (I’d been up studying until 2 or 3 in the morning, in my defence), we were also later than we mom hoped in arriving. We got there a little after 10, but still well in time for the 11am checkout.
The Royal Park Hotel was stunning. It was part of a skyscraper, and mom had to crane her neck to look up and see the top of the building as we stood outside.
The lobby itself was on the 24th floor, and the rooms spanned several floors above that. When we walked in, a kind Japanese lady, seeing our luggage — including the misfit Sunil, the shabby jute bag we’d been carrying snacks around in since the beginning of the trip — asked if we wanted to check in.
We explained that we were just there to meet someone and asked for the Wi-Fi password so we could text Onkar. It had been exactly a month since we’d landed, so our data packs had both just expired. Mom needed to get a new physical SIM card altogether since her phone didn’t support eSIMs.
The lady happily connected my phone to the hotel WiFi though, and one text later, Onkar descended into the lobby to greet us.
It wasn’t too long since I’d seen him in the UK, but for mom, it’d been months. Hugs were exchanged.
We went and sat in his room for a bit — it was a decent room, but the view from the 36th floor was fabulous. Onkar offered us tea and coffee, which felt strangely mature for him since neither mom nor I had seen him in situations where he had to be particularly hospitable before.
We could see a large park from the window, and Onkar told us it was quite popular and that we should go visit it at some point. Turns out, we had no plans for the day after checking out, and so we headed to the garden straight away.
Mom and I had been managing things fine on our own so far, but with Onkar around, we kind of fell under his wing. And him — he was in his element. In ‘his country’.
It was his first time back in Japan since moving to the UK, and the way he slipped right back into it was impressive. He bought our garden tickets in fluent Japanese while Mom and I stood in awe. We unlocked a new level of respect for him after experiencing first-hand how hard this language is to learn.
I also found myself practicing my own Japanese with him more easily than I ever could with locals, asking questions without hesitating or worrying about sounding stupid. It more than compensated for the lost practice due to him interacting with all the locals that day instead of me and mom.
Mom was worried about him though. I noticed it after she mentioned it to me, and then I started worrying too.
Onkar did seem a little different — calmer, quieter. The temper he usually has was missing. I attributed it to just being mature and assuming responsibility for us, but I realized now that even in private, he was more reserved. It’s hard to explain, but you could sense that something was weighing on him.
The reason he flew in was for a friend’s wedding, but he’s also working on his PhD remotely, juggling a million side gigs, and now hosting Mom and me on top of that. It’s a lot. Understandably, he was stressed. As the day progressed, I could see mom overthinking it more and more, but felt helpless towards the both of them.
We wandered through the garden and then tried to find a café to sit and work at — mostly so Onkar could catch up on work and feel a little lighter. This was no easy feat, because somehow, most of the places in the area were full.
Out of decent options, we decided to sit down for a proper lunch instead, and then leave Onkar be so he could work for a bit before catching back up with him. We ended up at a fancy Italian restaurant.
We were already seated by the time the menu came out, and Mom and I balked at the prices. It’d be normal according to London standards, but after weeks of eating reasonably in Japan, this was a serious spike. It’d be rude to just get up and leave though, so we ended up sharing two dishes between the three of us.
Onkar encouraged us to get drinks too, but only he ended up ordering one. As you can tell, we clearly have a difference of opinions when it comes to money. According to Onkar, money in the bank is depreciating anyway so you should either spend it or invest it.
My parents are doing neither to any big extent. Onkar does invest, but proportional to his earnings. PhD students don’t earn much but as I’ve said before, his thousand other jobs do. Plus, he just signed a big internship for next summer, that’s made him spend even more freely. It’s justified.
Mom, on the other hand, asked me earlier to try and talk him out of spending so much — his hotel room last night alone cost twice that of the love hotel’s rent for the past 4 nights combined, and the room wasn’t half as luxurious. But Onkar believes it’s a wiser use of time to focus on increasing earnings rather than savings, because earnings are uncapped while savings are dictated by your income.
And I get it, for him. It’s not in my own personality to act that way until I’m actually earning enough in proportion to my expenditure, and my confidence in making money has gone down over the past year or so with my failed business attempts. It’s going to take a while for me to get that back, but as I said, I get it in Onkar’s case.
I told mom to let it go. It’d just aggravate him if she told him how to spend, and it’s his own hard earned money after all. Plus, he’s more financially literate than the rest of the family combined — myself included — so I trust him to know what he’s doing, and Mom should too.
If anything, we should be proud of him for doing better than us. If anything, I strive for my career to become half of his — and my dreams are big, so this is really saying something.
In the evening, he had drinks and dinner plans with friends from the groom’s circle. After a quick nap in our new AirBnB (Mom, Bua, Dad and I would be staying there together), he left to make a fashionably late entrance. Only two people in the group even knew he was in Tokyo — he was planning to surprise the others.
Meanwhile, Dad and Bua were set to arrive. Their flight landed at 9pm, and the plan was for them to get to our place in Ikebukuro on their own — same way Mom and I had figured it out when we landed. With dad having been to Japan once on his own for a week in 2019 after the 2017 family trip, we figured that he’d have no problem. They’d take a connecting train from Haneda with one transfer at Shinagawa. Having arrived in Ikebukuro earlier in the day and seeing dozens of exits in the maze that the station was, we’d even scoped out the best exit (C1) for them to meet us at.
Usually Dad buys a mobile data roaming allowance when he travels, but since there’s free WiFi at most places in Tokyo, this time he and Bua planned to get SIM cards after landing. We told them that until they figured that out, they could connect to the WiFi at stations and shops to stay in touch with us.
We heard from them once after their flight landed, and told them to meet us at exit C1 of Ikebukuro station, but then, the messages stopped delivering. It was a one hour journey, so they should have arrived by 11.
Radio silence.
Mom and I were starting to panic a little because it wasn’t long before trains would stop running for night, and if they hadn’t left yet (we had no way of knowing), they’d be stuck. With no way to contact them, how would we help?
At 11:15, I went and posted myself up at a window seat in Mos Burger across from exit C1, hoping to spot them. I stayed there until closing time at midnight, but saw no sign.
It had been raining since I left the house. We had had no contact with Onkar about when he was coming back, so Mom had stayed at home in case he arrived. There was only one key and he wouldn’t have been able to get in if both of us were out.
I had taken an umbrella out with me, but Dad and Bua wouldn’t have one. I was also carrying my laptop bag — it was stupid not to leave it behind when I knew that it was raining, but I’d thought of getting some studying done at the burger place while on the lookout.
I kind of felt like an undercover spy sitting there. I definitely shouldn’t have been enjoying it given the situation, but it still felt undeniably cool. Anyway, I needed the umbrella over my bag to protect my laptop from the rain so I wouldn’t have been able to offer mine to Dad or Bua either — another mistake on top of the questionable one of not going to pick them up from the airport ourselves. I could see another classic wet shoe scene incoming.
I left the shop, and with nowhere else to go, headed home.They had the address, and even if they didn’t have WiFi I figured they’d ask around and someone would help them.
I was five minutes away from home when Dad finally called. The connection was spotty so it was a long and difficult call, but I caught that they’d reached Ikebukuro and were at the central exit. I told them to walk underground to C1, since it was easier than dragging their luggage through the rain. I was in the opposite direction, and it would take me around as long as it would take them to get there. Not entirely sure if the plan was clear due to the bad network, I set back out the way I’d come.
During the phone call I’d taken shelter in a Family Mart, and I decided to make a quick pit stop there for a chocolate pound cake. I felt bad leaving empty-handed after having been inside for so long, and the cake could be used as a peace offering to calm two potentially very angry family members very soon.
Made it to exit C1, but realizing that there were two gates (C1A and C1B) and they still didn’t have network to communicate, I decided to go downstairs and intercept them underground. I was going to go further into the station when I noticed some people waiting by the elevator at the C1A exit. I figured Dad and Bua would also look for the elevator sign since they had luggage.
The elevator door opened and guess who walked out? The glee on their faces upon seeing me was adorable. My peace offering though? Humorously and justifiably rejected.
Mom and I had deliberately asked them to find their own way to Ikebukuro, thinking that we were helping them become independent in the country from the get-go. But we were also the ones most worried about them when we couldn’t get in touch, and seeing them was as much a relief for me as it was for them.
When we got home, Mom was just about to leave with umbrellas to come and join the search. I’d messaged her earlier that I was heading to get them, but hadn’t checked her replies since. Upon seeing us she reverse-geared back inside, and Onkar walked in five minutes later.
We all settled in and heard fun stories of the struggles in Dad & Bua’s journeys. Onkar — who had been to an all-you-can-drink-in-2-hours place — had had alcohol seemingly lift some of the stress in his system too.
Gifts were exchanged, and we ate some of the vegetarian food Mom and I had stocked up for Dad and Bua (eating in Japan is brutal for vegetarians unless you cook on your own, and having a kitchen the kind of accommodation we booked was a rare luxury).
The chocolate cake was eaten, and it was great. We’d also stocked up on Strong Zero, a Japanese canned cocktail Onkar had recommended. It was only 9% alcohol, but surprisingly effective. Tonight, a single can between us did the trick (our tiredness helped).
Reuniting with the core fam after all these days of it just being Mom and me (which had been great in its own way) was wholesome. I hadn’t been able to study all evening, and it would’ve freaked me out any other day, but today, it didn’t even matter.
And although the sleeping arrangement was chaotic — I was sandwiched between Mom and Bua on a tiny sofa bed, with multiple snorers in the room — we went to sleep happy.