I knew that going back to Japan meant embracing a long awaited catharsis. It was not a surprise of newly acquired thoughts, not an ambush. There was only the relinquishing of a few veiled truths: the will I’ve probably let loose amidst what seemed to be occupied days back home.

I was so happy to have read Murakami while in a city not far away from where he lives, where the very characters that haunt the after hours of a busy metro might have been imagined. It was delightful, and After Dark was most moving. My family and I went to Universal Studios in Osaka, but the highlight of the trip for me would be the walks through the streets of Kyoto, Osaka, and Narita. And the temples we had stopped by, of course. I felt so at peace with forming new thoughts about Japan, far from how we’d gotten to know each other throughout the many summers of my childhood that I’d spent there.