Naoshima

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Morning trains, soft pink skies, a picnic under trees that didn’t belong to us but welcomed us anyway. On the way home, a warm can from a vending machine felt like a small kindness the city kept giving.

I learned Suica first, and Tokyo got easier.

I saved teamLab for late evening; the crowds thinned and the room felt like a tide.

Mt. Fuji showed up on the second try—Hakone mist, then a sudden clearing.

Asakusa at sunrise felt like a secret; the incense lingered on my coat.

Shibuya Crossing looked loud from above, but down on the street everyone was gentle.