I’m writing this on Monday, October 6th, instead of Sunday — cause, ironically enough, I was swamped yesterday, despite this whole section being about me finally getting a break from my otherwise constantly filled schedule.

It all started seven days ago. A new week, school as usual. When we got home, I just studied in solidarity with Kento, whose exam period had officially started. And while he was working his ass off in the exam chair, I was having the exact opposite experience. Since my school had exams as well, I had a three-day vacation with absolutely no plans. Grandma and Grandpa were in Kumamoto until the next day, so I was completely home alone. Hallelujah.

It started off relatively productive Tuesday. I woke up at 7:30 a.m. (don’t think my brain could comprehend actually sleeping longer than that, ahaha) and immediately got to studying. I basically did my entire school routine, just at home — it was a nice change of scenery, but it wasn’t exactly what I would call relaxation. So, I decided to take a walk, and that was definitely the best decision I made that day.

The weather was perfect — the sky its usual saturated shade of blue, only a few decorative clouds in sight. The temperature was mild but nowhere near cold, with a light breeze setting a calming vibe. And for once, the humidity wasn’t crazy. I didn’t feel gross the moment I stepped outside, which was definitely a welcome change. It almost felt exactly like the Danish summer I left back home, and I took it in like there was no tomorrow.

My final destination was FamilyMart. Normally, the walk takes about ten minutes, but it ended up taking nearly thirty because I kept stopping to admire every flower, insect, and bird I saw along the way. I’m still amazed by the wildlife here — I feel like I see a new plant or animal species every single day!

The rest of the day was extremely chill — just more studying and drawing. Overall, I’d say it was a good start to my mini vacation.

The day after followed roughly the same routine, though I did wake up at 9, so that’s a huge improvement… I guess…. I made myself some ramen, and while I was eating, I suddenly heard someone shout, “Hello???” from right outside the house. I went to the hallway to investigate and was met with an old lady I’d never seen before entering the house (which is easy to do, since we never lock the door — if you can even call it a door).

When she saw me, she froze, eyes wide with confusion. I clearly wasn’t the person she expected to see. She quickly said something in Japanese I didn’t quite catch, then booked it — but not before politely sliding the door shut behind her. Well, that was definitely one way to start the morning. I thought to myself as I went back to my ramen like nothing had happened.

Later, I got yet another surprise when I heard a ruckus downstairs. I went to check, and once again I was caught off guard — Grandma and Grandpa were home! And they’d brought a giant couch and coffee table with them. They were in the middle of setting it all up. We celebrated the new furniture with ice cream and sinking into the brand new couch (it’s about a million times better than the old one).

Thursday was my last day of freedom, but I felt the need to leave the house, since the furthest I’d gone the past two days was a quick trip to FamilyMart for jello, and my nightly walks with Kento — which don’t really count. So I went with Grandma to drop Chi-chan off at swimming practice. On the way, we had to pick up another little girl — not sure who she was, but she was loud. Like, LOUD loud. At one point, I had to discreetly plug my ears because I just couldn’t take it anymore. The 15-minute drive felt like hours…

She did give me a cookie and call me pretty before leaving the car, so she regained some points there, but still wasn’t enough to make up for the pain she put me through. Luckily, she was exhausted after swimming, so the ride home was relatively peaceful.

As the day came to an end, I felt completely relaxed and ready for Friday — but turns out, I wasn’t, because Friday was chaotic as hell.

It started out normal. Before I left the house, Maiko-chan gave me an envelope with some money and asked me to deliver it to someone in another class — but that was future me’s problem. When I got to school, I went to the library to study as usual, and then it was time for my one-on-one with my Japanese teacher.

Mike-sensei began class by saying, completely deadpan, “So, today I’ll demonstrate the meaning of ijimeru (Japanese for ‘bullying’).” Then he told me to pick either number 1 or 2. I chose 2, and the man started cackling as he pulled out a test. Great. Just fantastic. Exactly what I wanted on my first day back.

We went through it, and I got 11/20 correct… It’s okay… Not like I was disappointed or anything….. (I was.) But he told me he knew it was above my level and that he just wanted to see what to focus on, and he cheered me up after, so my ego wasn’t too bruised. Shoutout to Mike.

After that was supposed to be lunch, but something weird was happening — the bells weren’t ringing at the usual times. Instead of going to lunch like I apparently should’ve, I stayed in the library studying vocabulary. When the bell finally rang again, I thought, Great,  food time. I grabbed my water bottle and the envelope before heading back to class.

On the way, I met some friends who all looked confused. “We were looking for you!” one of them said, a hint of urgency in her voice. I was equally puzzled — why were they heading to the art room in the middle of lunch? I didn’t get an answer, so I continued toward my classroom, where I bumped into Haruno-chan. She looked just as bewildered. After some Google Translate magic and broken Japanese/English conversation, we figured it out: it was a special schedule day, meaning classes were only 40 minutes instead of 45 — which meant… I had missed lunch. Fuck.

I’d also promised to deliver the money during the lunch break, so not only did I skip my meal, but I let down Maiko-chan. I texted her frantically, and she replied right away, saying it could wait until next week — but I still felt awful. And hungry. So hungry. I took my bento to the library and begged the librarian to let me eat in her office. That absolute angel just smiled and typed, “Oh, don’t worry, I know you can behave yourself. You can eat wherever you want — no need to ask next time.” So I enjoyed my onigiri and salad while watching Netflix on my laptop. Best lunch break in a while.

After I’d eaten, confusion spread again through the suddenly bustling halls. Everyone was cleaning — but it was only 2 p.m. We usually clean at 3:45. I wandered until I found my English teacher and asked what the hell was going on, and he explained that since there was an open school event on Sunday, we had to spend the rest of the day deep cleaning the school.

I seriously considered just pretending not to understand and going back to the library, but I picked myself up and joined in. We washed floors, cleaned blackboards, polished windows — the usual stuff. But then we moved to the art room, and when Oishii-sensei said deep clean, he meant deep clean. Students were sorting brushes, sawing wood, washing crates — it felt more like a construction site than an art room, a mixture of sawdust, tools, and dried paint scattered around the floor. The chatter was drowned out by banging and sawing.

I was assigned to sort paintbrushes — first by “functional or dead” (meaning whether there was too much dried paint to save them), then by shape, size, handle, and color. It was basically my dream job, and it took forever, meaning by the time I was done, so was everyone else. Minimal work, maximum credit. Love that.

On the bus ride home, I was just looking forward to the weekend (since it had been such a hard week… staying home and eating ramen is like a full-time job), but I’d forgotten we had plans both Saturday and Sunday. When the reminder popped up on my calendar, my smile faded a little — but it is what it is.

Saturday, we went to see a type of traditional Japanese show. Kento and I were both wearing jeans and T-shirts, pretty casual. But when Maiko-chan saw us, her first reaction was, “Jeans???” Apparently, it was supposed to be a somewhat fancy event, so both Kento and I quickly got changed into formal clothes — I wore a full-on suit with vest and tie. When we got there, though, we realized it was not fancy at all. We were sticking out way more than usual — didn’t think that was possible…

When the show started, I realized it was all in old Japanese, so I understood maybe two words out of the entire two-hour performance. But oh well — it was a cool experience. Not sure I’d willingly go again, though.

We got home late, and I went to bed soon after, excited for the last day of the week.

Sunday, I woke up early, showered, curled my hair, and did my makeup — really treating it like a “me day”, taking my sweet time getting ready. Then we drove to our first stop: a big store, kind of like Bilka. We stocked up on groceries, and I grabbed some makeup and snacks for school. After checking out, it was time for food — and oh my god, I was so excited. Kento and I were going to an Italian restaurant since we’d both been craving a nice serving of pasta. Against my better judgment, I ordered carbonara. Honestly, it wasn’t bad — nowhere near as good as Moster’s or Dad’s, but still decent. I was over the moon.

But you can’t have the gain without the pain — Kento had convinced me to go to karaoke with him, and I was terrified. When we got to the counter, we were told we’d have to wait an hour and a half. Great. We decided to stop by McDonald’s first.

We were once again walking through the still unbearably hot and humid Japanese summer  (the girls even said later I’d gotten a slight tan — I thought that was physically impossible), we made it to McDonald’s and ordered Oreo ice cream. It was a solid 7.8/10. Nothing beats a fresh sundae with double caramel, though. I swear that goopy, glorious gold sauce is sent straight from heaven.

When we finally got our karaoke room, it wasn’t what I expected. Well, I don’t really know what I had expected, but it wasn’t that. Huge TV, microphones, a sleek black leather couch stretching from corner to corner, and an overall hyggelig but slightly intimidating vibe.

Then the first song started — If I Can’t Have You by Shawn Mendes — and I realized I was not ready. I hadn’t sung once since that traumatic fifth-grade event. (Fuck you, Signe. I will not forgive you.) I was so scared; it was physically impossible to sing properly. Kento was patient, giving it his all, while I barely whispered along. We had the room for three hours, and I think I genuinely sang one song. I just couldn’t do it. I felt so bad for Kento.

When the three hours were up, we walked to a nearby Starbucks (yeah, feeeeede køer, I know), and I treated him to half a cake as an apology for karaoke. His voice was wrecked.

We got home late — the night had settled in, and the others were in the middle of dinner. I quickly ate and went up to my room. I was feeling extremely emotional for some reason, honestly struggling to keep my shit together. I think Kento noticed, because he came up to talk basically right after. I was just yapping, as usual, when I realized it was Sunday. I had school the next day. Or rather, later that day — it was already 1:30 a.m.

It usually takes me 30–40 minutes to fall asleep, and I had to wake up at 5 for school. Oh my god… It wouldn’t be the first (or last) time I’d stayed up all night before school, but for some reason, I was just craving sleep. I was physically and mentally exhausted. We said goodnight, I kicked him out of my room, finally… sleep.