Year 2 – Shift 11 – Sara
The smell of grilled meat, seafood stalls, kimchi, sesame oil, and smoke tickled Sara’s senses as she stretched, yawned, and woke up. Her eyes fluttered open, and she instantly shot awake.
Where was she?
She was on the floor, lying on a tatami mat in the middle of a room so familiar that tears formed in her eyes. She shot to her feet and looked around. It was a large, open room with a closet and tatami flooring. The next room had a low table, a television, and a refrigerator. A stairway just outside the room went down, then sharply back up.
She had been here.
In this exact house.
She was in Tsuruhashi.
Sara ran down the steps, stopping just before opening the door as a new feeling hit her. She reached up and put her hands on her head.
No horns.
She ran through the kitchen and into the bathroom, stopping in front of the mirror.
She was human again.
No horns. No tail. No red skin.
It felt weird.
But why was she here?
She wiped the tears from her eyes and shook it off. This was a trick, just like when Raven and Simone got trapped by the firewall.
Sara went to the front door, took a deep breath, and opened it.
The dense market air rushed in, thick with grilled meat, seafood, kimchi, smoke, and damp alleyways, and she lost control. She pushed the door shut and fell to her knees, burying her head in her hands.
This was the place she had worked her ass off to return to and never did.
“How?” she sobbed. “Why?”
After her tears settled, she pushed the door open and walked outside.
“Sara-san?”
The voice hit her immediately.
She spun to see a little old Korean woman standing with her hands behind her back in front of the shop next door.
“Mi-rae?” Sara couldn’t believe her eyes.
The woman’s face broke into a wide smile, and she threw her arms around Sara. “I’m so happy to see you! Did you arrive in the night?”
Sara scratched her head. Here was a woman she had met in real life, in this exact location, and gotten to know. On Earth. And here she was, as real as Sara’s lack of horns.
“Um, yeah. I did.”
“How long are you staying this time?” Mi-rae pulled back. “You said next time was for good, right?”
“I did say that…” Sara didn’t know how to respond.
Mi-rae sensed her discomfort and moved on. “No matter. I’m just so glad to see you again! How is Erin?”
Sara’s blood ran cold. The fresh wound of discovering what Erin had done while they stayed in this exact house was enormous. Sara had talked to this exact woman until she passed out before Erin finally came back.
“She’s…”
Mi-rae rubbed Sara’s back. “You’re nicer anyway! You have to see Sengoku. He talks about you from time to time!”
Sara turned and looked down the alley at the tiny corner bar. Sengoku was the owner, and he had made her feel so at home. They had bonded over Japanese music, and he was the first person she had ever heard use the term Zainichi Korean. He poured her the best shochu, and had Sara known what Erin was out doing, she would have returned his flirting.
“Yeah,” she said, still confused. “I will, for sure.”
“Are you okay, Sara-san?” Mi-rae’s face fell with concern. “You don’t seem like yourself.”
Sara shook her head and smiled. “Of course, Mi-rae. I’m still just tired. It’ll wear off. I have a lot to do, so I’ll be back later, okay?”
Mi-rae nodded slowly. “I’ll be here. You can stop to see me anytime.”
“Thank you, Mi-rae.” Sara hugged her again, feeling the warmth of the human she held.
She was real.
“See you soon!”
Sara walked through the alleys of Osaka’s Korean market district, finding all the places she had loved. Just ahead was a tiny tearoom she had wanted to visit but never got the chance because, on the night she planned to go, Erin made her come back early for sex.
She was about to go inside when she paused.
What was she doing?
Sara felt around and found a phone in the pocket of her jeans. It was hers. She opened it and checked the date. It was the same date she had been keeping track of on her Earth phone since they arrived.
She opened her banking app, and her eyes widened like saucers.
Her three-dollar balance from before they left remained, but a single deposit scheduled for the day after they disappeared had hit her account.
Two million dollars from Tawagoto SV1 Inc.
The exact amount she had calculated she would need to live and retire in Osaka.
She logged out, then back in.
Still there.
Wanting to test it without feeling like a fool, Sara hurried out of the market and onto the main strip, where she entered the Lawson she had frequented during her trip.
The smell of karaage and convenience infused her.
She grabbed a BOSS Coffee, a Coke Zero, and enough Japanese snacks to total about six dollars, then went to the register. She exchanged greetings in Japanese while the clerk rang her up.
Sara used Apple Pay.
The transaction went through.
Taking the bag, she walked out of the store. Her pace slowed as she took everything in.
She stood on the street, watching people live their lives. This street had always been full when she was here. People walking, talking, and living in this wonderful space.
She headed uphill toward the place she had planned to call home: Tennoji Ward.
It was a short walk through a residential section of the city, but businesses, shops, and parks were everywhere. The first park she passed was one they had stopped at while walking back from Dotonbori.
Kids played while Sara stared directly at the bench where Erin had made her so uncomfortable during their last visit. Throwing a coat over Sara’s lap and touching her with families around should have been the first sign that something was wrong when they arrived, but Sara had been consumed.
Not by that bench.
She moved on.
Ten minutes later, she saw it.
The giant Osaka sign in front of Tenshiba Park.
It was already much busier than when she had visited. Restaurants and cafés lined the park while families and friends spread blankets across the lawn and children ran around together.
Sara sat on the grass against a tree and opened her BOSS Coffee. The stuff was her crack. She drank half of it in the first pull, loving the much fuller coffee flavor compared with the drip piss in the United States.
The melon pan was next. It was delicious, just as she remembered.
Sara sat, ate, drank, and watched until the sun began to set and the park grew even busier.
This was real.
How was this real?
As night fell over the park, she decided to return and see Sengoku at the bar beside her…house? Rental?
The walk was short and amazing. A metropolis where she felt safe walking the streets after dark was one of the things that had made her fall in love with the country in the first place.
She descended from the Uemachi Plateau and returned to Ikuno Ward. She took her time winding through Tsuruhashi’s maze-like infrastructure. Most places were closed now, but the nighttime atmosphere in the alleys was unlike anything she had ever felt.
They were tight and narrow, and some looked like they housed sketchy shit based on appearance alone, but they felt safe. The worst thing Sara had witnessed during her time in Japan was two old men arguing beneath a tarped section of the market. They hadn’t hit each other, but they had shouted.
That argument made her look deeper into the area.
That was when she learned Ikuno was one of the poorest wards in Osaka and home to many Zainichi Koreans whose families had lived in Japan for generations without being granted automatic citizenship. Many held Special Permanent Resident status while still being treated as outsiders in the country where they were born.
The story made Sara want to do more.
That was why she had planned to return.
There it was.
Bar No. 1059.
The tiny corner bar had six seats inside and room for maybe six more people standing. One man ran it.
Sengoku.
As Sara drew closer, she noticed the bar was open. No one was inside except the familiar face she hoped would remember her.
She stepped into the bar, and the man looked up from his phone. His jaw dropped.
“Sara! Is that you?”
She sat in the seat directly in front of him and smiled. “It’s me, Sengoku. I’m back. I don’t know how, but I’m back.”
“Ah.” He pulled out the good shochu and poured her a glass. “I’m glad you are. Here to stay this time, right?”
Sara sighed. “I’m not sure, actually. I kind of…”
“Woke up here?” He smiled as he slid the glass toward her.
She took it and nearly drained it before catching herself. “Yeah…how did…”
“Because I brought you here.” Sengoku shrugged.
Sara narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t surprised. That reflex was almost gone after living in Tawagoto.
But she was interested.
“You? A bartender?”
Sengoku leaned back against the bar, folded his arms over his chest, and smiled. “Did you ever figure out what my name meant?”
Sara thought about it. “Sen is war, and koku is country or state. Warring States, right?”
He chuckled, one corner of his lip lifting. “That’s one meaning.”
Sengoku pointed toward one of the coasters on the bar.
Sara looked down.
Bar No. 1059
Beneath it was Sengoku’s name in English and the kanji:
仙国
“Oh.” Her reaction to seeing the kanji was staggering. “Wizard?”
A wide smile crossed Sengoku’s face. He pushed away from the bar and gave her a deep bow. “Very good, Sara.”
“But why did you bring me here?” she asked. “And how?”
“Why?” He smiled. “Because you were asleep, and you needed help.”
“How did you know I was asleep?” Sara asked. “I was in a different world.”
“I know.” He leaned close and whispered, “I’m a dream wizard.”
“A dream wizard?” Sara raised a doubtful eyebrow. “I’ve been playing the game my entire life, and I’ve never heard of anyone with the ability to travel between realms through people’s sleep. Maybe a Dream Weaver or an oneiromancer, but that’s different.”
“Let me ask you a question, Sara.” Sengoku lowered his glasses and looked over them. “How many games exist?”
Sara was gobsmacked when she realized where he was going. “A lot.”
“That’s right.” Sengoku smiled. “I was left here in Osaka from my world. I was hit by a very large white truck.”
“Fucking Truck-kun.” Sara took a long drink of shochu. “So…isekais can work backward too, huh?”
“Backward to you.” He shrugged.
Sara’s brain broke.
The idea that someone from another world had been isekaid into Earth was almost too much of a stretch.
“Why did you bring me, then?”
Sengoku shrugged. “You wanted to be here. You told me yourself.”
“That was years ago.” Sara shook her head.
“No,” he said. “It was last night.”
She paused and stared into the swirling drink in front of her. “Just tell me what you want.”
“I don’t want anything, Sara,” he said. “You were incredibly kind to me and my family here in Tsuruhashi. You genuinely love this place. I can tell.”
“My true ibasho.” Sara sighed.
“Want to stay?” he asked. “Look in your pocket.”
Sara reached down and felt something in her other pocket. She pulled out a passport she had never seen before and opened it.
Her name and face were inside.
Beside it was a My Number card listing the house as her address.
“I’m…”
“What even I am not.” Sengoku nodded. “A citizen.”
Sara stared at the passport and shook her head. “I don’t think…”
“You don’t even know why you were asleep, do you?” Sengoku asked.
Sara paused.
Why was she sleeping?
She had been with Cody, then on a boat, then…
“Alenikka…she’s real. And she’s evil.”
“Your own creation,” he said. “Do you know why she exists?”
“No.” Sara shook her head. “She helped me so much. She helped me get the money to come here in the first place. I modeled everything after her.”
“Why?” Sengoku asked innocently.
The question hit her like a Truck-kun.
“Because…I didn’t know how to do anything,” Sara admitted painfully. “My dad isolated me. Learned helplessness. I just wrote a story about who I wanted to be, and I did what she did, and things got better.”
“But you still had blind spots.” Sengoku poured more shochu.
Sara stared as the liquid filled her glass. “I did. I still do.”
“We all do.” He shrugged. “The question is, what are you going to do about it?”
The residents of Etokuso flooded Sara’s mind.
Mark, Cody, and Simone, the kyoudai who had come with her. The Shafted. Muffin. Kaori.
Raven.
The woman who had remained steadfast by her side from the moment they met. Sara couldn’t leave Raven to return to her past because she knew that, without Raven, Sara would return to hers as well.
She looked through the open doorway at the market she loved and drained her drink.
She wanted to stay.
More than anything.
But her future was Raven.
Sara pulled out her phone. “Do you have a bank account?”
Sengoku cocked his head. “I don’t need your money, Sara.”
“No,” she said. “But you know people who do.”
He nodded, wrote down his bank information, and slid it across the bar.
It took Sara seconds to complete the transfer.
Every penny.
“Help women. Help children.”
“You won’t have it if you come back later,” Sengoku said.
Sara stood, grabbed the bottle of shochu, and tipped it back. It took a good twenty seconds, but she chugged the entire thing.
“Sengoku. Send me home.”