1
KIT
Tokyo train station is crazy-making.
It seems every human on Earth has decided to visit Japan to see the spring cherry blossom at the same time and we’re all heading for the same Shinkansen to Kyoto.
It doesn’t help that I’m bleary-eyed after my fourteen-hour flight from London either, even though I managed to get a bit of kip thanks to the brilliant invention of lie-flat beds in first class.
I mean, sure, I could have just had an executive service drive me to my final destination, that’s usually how I choose to get around these days when I’m transferring between plane and hotel, but the train is so much faster and I’m pumped to experience travelling at nearly two hundred miles per hour aboard the famous bullet train.
Luckily, the green car is much less busy than the standard-class carriage and I find my seat easily and crank it back to get comfortable, ready for the two-hour journey.
Closing my gritty eyes, I force my thoughts away from the whole shitshow that was meant to be the reason I was here – my, now cancelled, wedding. I’m here to distract myself from all that, though I’m well aware of the irony that the hotel I’m heading to was going to be where we stayed on our honeymoon.
I’m reclaiming it as the place I’m going to get my shit together instead.
Positive thinking. Something my therapist is always encouraging me to practise.
We set off at exactly the time advertised. The Japanese trains are famously punctual, which I appreciate, especially since I’m desperate to have a shower the minute I get to the Vanaheim Grand, one of a string of five-star hotels owned by one of my best buddies, Elliot.
The guy is a phenomenon and a real inspiration.
As the third child of four siblings, brought up by a single mum after his dad died when he was three, he put himself through uni by doing freelance coding jobs – a skill he’d begun teaching himself during his tweens.
Despite his tough early life, the dude dreamed big and after fulfilling his goal of becoming a billionaire through hard work, guile and skill – a journey he brought me and our friend Raffa along on, gaining us entry onto the rich list and changing all our lives – he was able to finance the take-over of what’s become one of the most luxurious and sought-after global hotel chains in the world, with sites in Japan, Sri Lanka, the Maldives and St Lucia, to name a few.
Anyway, spending a week or two here in the Kyoto hotel ought to be enough time to sort my head out. Then I can refocus and move on with the new direction I’m taking my life in, now the path I was travelling on has blown up in my face.
* * *
Chloe
Tokyo train station is such a buzz.
Okay, I’m pretty tired after not getting much sleep in my cramped economy plane seat, especially since I was in the middle of the middle row with a restless, bored child on one side of me and an armrest-hogging giant on the other, but I don’t care right now. I’m here, in Japan.
Finally.
It’s been on my bucket list to visit since I was fourteen and fell in love with Manga and Studio Ghibli movies, and I can hardly believe I’m actually here.
In my daydreams, it’salwaysbeen the place I spend my honeymoon, which is a bit of a shame as my ex-fiancé decided at the last minute he didn’t fancy getting married to me after all.
Not that I’m letting that get me down while I’m here.
It’s his loss if he’s decided marriage to me isn’t what he wants.
And there was no way on earth I wasn’t coming on this trip. Not when I’ve saved every extra penny for years to be able to afford to come and stay in the famous Vanaheim Grand Hotel in Kyoto for a few days before travelling back to Tokyo via the Studio Ghibli Park.
Nothing, and I meannothing, was going to stop me.
Not even a failed wedding.
I make my way to where the Shinkansen tracks are, taking a couple of minor mis-turns in the process, what with the barely decipherable signs and hordes of tourists in my path, but manage to get onto the platform I need two minutes before the train I’ve booked is due to leave.
Arms shaking under the weight, I stow my case on the overhead shelf just as the train begins to move. My heart is racing from the stress of checking I’m getting on the right one and finding my allocated seat in the almost full carriage, and I take a calming breath before flopping into it with a sigh of relief.
Once settled, I close my eyes and wait for my breathing to return to normal, trying not to think about the fact the empty seat next to me should be filled by the guy I’ve loved since we met at university and who I genuinely thought I was going to be spending the rest of my life with.
