Tent? Check. Sleeping bag? Check. Foldable chair? Check.
Taiga continued to scan his belongings for the fifth time today, a nervous habit when something was unknown to him. True, he had been excited about camping, but he hadn't done that for a long time, and being with his parents as a kid and being with himself as an adult were two totally different things. Now, it seemed a lot more daunting, as if one mistake could lead to a lot more trouble than he expected. What if he accidentally burned down the grass? What if his stomach ached and the rest rooms didn't work, contrary to the reviews and descriptions on the campground website? What if the temperature dropped drastically and he wasn't equipped with that kind of possibility? What if—
He shook his head, and continued to double check his stuff. He tended to panic when things go wrong, but he had done a lot of research about this, and he was ninety-nine percent sure things would go his way. He even learned the difference between the kinds of tents that were appropriate for the autumn season and the things to consider before choosing a camping ground. He was determined to make this worthwhile.
He stood up when he heard his dad's car going out of the driveway. When he told his parents he wanted to go camping, they gave him worried looks and offered to go with him but he stood his ground. He was no longer the eight year old kid who jumped up and down when he was roasting marshmallows over the fire. He no longer cried when he ran so fast that he stumbled and skinned his knee. He was already an adult. An adult who was a bit— a teeny, tiny bit— anxious about his very first camping trip, but an adult nonetheless.
His parents relented, but made him promise that he’d at least allow his dad to drive him to the train station, and to text them every five hours to assure them that he’s doing fine. He rolled his eyes at them then, but he knew that they were just worried about him. He was well aware that he was raised sheltered, and with every bit of independence he had gained over the past few years exhilarated him so much he never passed any opportunity that he could get his hands on.
A sharp honk of a car shook him out of his thoughts. He grabbed his suitcase and backpack and walked out of the door. He put his things inside the trunk of his dad’s car and slid into the passenger’s seat after. The ride to the train station was just them recounting their camping trips a few years back, laughing at particularly funny moments and sighed when the nostalgia kicked them pretty good. Those were the days, where things were a lot more simpler and easier. To remove the bittersweet air between them, his dad started to give him camping tips, some of which he already knew because of the extensive research he did for a few nights. He listened and nodded anyway.
They soon arrived at the station. He waved at his dad and watched his car disappear from view before going inside. The train came shortly after he walked to the platform. He went inside and went straight to his reserved seat. He put his things in the overhead compartment and sat down. He sighed. It’s a two-hour train ride to Yamanashishi station, so it would be good for his mind to have a distraction. His phone was a no-no, he swore to himself that he would not use it aside from texting his parents and taking pictures. Instead, he stared out the window. The train moved past the buildings in a flurry of shapes and sizes, his eyes could barely keep up with the scenery that the tall buildings immediately transitioned into low residential houses.
After a few minutes of looking at the window, he forced himself to look away. The view from it was making him nauseous, and for someone who could easily get motion-sickness, it would do him good to not vomit his breakfast twenty minutes into the train ride.
He stood up and pulled his backpack down. He opened it and looked for things he could distract himself with. He didn't want to read the books he brought, he planned to read them once he reached the campsite. He pointedly ignored the snacks beside the books; he must endure not eating them until he was settled and sitting down and enjoying the view of Mount Fuji. He closed his eyes, as if willing them to disappear from his sight once he blinked his eyes open. But alas, nothing magical happened, and the snacks were still there, sitting in his bag. He sighed and zipped his bag up. Before he could stand up and return the bag to the luggage compartment, a hand shot out in front of him— a hand holding an onigiri.
Confused, Taiga's eyes traveled from the hand to the shoulder, and then looked at the face of the person with an outstretched arm. It was a guy, probably his age, with jet-black hair parted in the middle. His face was strikingly handsome, and Taiga almost did a double-take because he was so surprised by his smile. Now Taiga, as isolated as he was growing up, had his fair share of meeting attractive people, and the person in front of him felt like he'd be on top of the list. He blushed at the thought, but berated himself mentally for thinking such stupidity.
The guy's smile faltered for a moment when Taiga didn't say anything, but he only smiled larger once he recomposed himself. "Sorry," he started. "You looked like you're having a battle with yourself and staring hard at your snacks." He waved the onigiri slightly, "I don't know the reason why you refuse to eat yours, but I'm willing to share mine with you."
Taiga looked at the onigiri, and slowly reached for it. The man dropped it on Taiga's hand, "Don't worry, I haven't opened that one and I assure you that it's safe. I bought it from the snack cart earlier," The guy smiled at him again and uncovered another onigiri from a plastic bag. He started munching on it without taking so much as a glance at Taiga.
Still confused, Taiga stared at the onigiri on his hand. The man said it was safe, then it probably was, right? Plus, the onigiri looked appetizing, he was craving for something to eat. He quickly shook his head, should he trust a stranger from the train, even if the said stranger was incredibly, insanely attractive?
Hokuto barely made it before the train left the station. He woke up later than usual today, his boss making him work overtime the day before as some sort of compensation for his two-day off. He just clenched his teeth and urged himself to finish his tasks before midnight. He waited for this, this tiny vacation was his metaphorical pat in the back, believing that he deserved this after almost a whole year of no breaks from work. He missed his hometown, his family and friends, and spending two whole days with them might get him the break that he desperately needed.
He hauled his luggage where he knew his clothes and things were hastily thrown into the bag, and settled on his reserved seat. He was thankful for his past self for achieving that much, saving him the hassle of lining up and paying on the station.
He visibly relaxed when the train started moving — he was finally doing this. He was going away, away from work, away from the busy streets of Tokyo. He was leaving that life behind, if only temporarily. These two days will be slow, steady and patient, a huge contrast to his everyday life, and ultimately decided that it was not a bad thing. In fact, he was looking forward to it.
Ten minutes later, he felt his stomach growl. He belatedly realized that he had missed his breakfast, clutching his tummy, willing it to be quiet. He hardly brought enough necessities for his vacation, it would only make sense that he didn’t bring any snacks. He sighed and rubbed his face in disappointment. He’d have to endure a two-hour long train ride and then he could eat. No big deal, he’d gone a whole day of no food when the work deadlines were cutting too close for comfort. He was gonna be fine.
As if on cue, a lady in uniform went inside the carriage, holding a cart of food in front of her. The cart was filled with food — sandwiches, snacks, lunch boxes — and the sight only intensified the complaint of his already grumbling stomach. He gulped.
He waited until the lady stopped on his seat and he bought two onigiris from the selection. One for breakfast, and one for his lunch. He was well aware that his stop was not the nearest from his parents’ house, and he needed the energy. He was about to open the rice delight on his hands when he heard some shuffling on his side.
He saw a guy his age as Hokuto looked to the side, rummaging through his backpack. He looked straight up torn, and the wretched stare he was giving to his food touched something in Hokuto's chest, something akin to pity. The guy — he was blond — heaved a sigh and quietly zipped up his bag. Hokuto looked at his own food. He was saving the other onigiri for lunch, but he supposed that it wouldn't hurt to buy another one once he reached his stop. The guy looked so sad, Hokuto couldn't just do nothing.
He inhaled, giving himself a pep talk mentally, and then raised his arm to the blond. The guy jumped, and only looked at him with a bewildered expression for five whole seconds and Hokuto started to regret offering his onigiri. But he realized he must've been shocked, so he immediately apologized and explained himself.
Once the guy received his onigiri, Hokuto started to munch on his. On the corner of his eye, he could tell that the blond was still staring at the food in his hands, and Hokuto hoped that he didn't just come across as a creep.
Suddenly, he wanted to palm his face. He realized just now what he had done, he really did look like a creep. He bumped his head on the glass window and berated himself.
After punishing himself for doing something so stupid and embarrassing, he calmed himself by the consolation that he would never see the guy again after this. He was suddenly looking forward for his stop more than ever before.
Taiga was still deliberating. He could not ignore the tasty treat on his hands, but he could also hear his mother's voice at the back of his mind, that one sentence drilled into his head years ago: do not accept food from strangers.
Another matter was the said stranger was still sitting across from him, though Taiga was sure he hadn't looked at him for a while now, and it would be really rude of him to discard the onigiri while in the giver's presence. The blond wanted to bury himself on his seat. Why couldn't his stop get here faster? Why did the shinkansen feel like it was taking forever to get to the next station? And more importantly, when will the stranger get off the train? More and more questions kept popping in his head, the tell-tale signs of his panic mode showing on his face. His increasing level of anxiety was only cut off when his stop was announced on the intercom and he noticed that the train was slowly stopping at the station. He jumped — out of alarm or out of relief, he wasn't sure — and then swiftly gathered his things and ran out to the door. What he didn't realize in his haste was that the onigiri flew from his hands when he jumped, and then it landed on his seat, cold and forgotten.
It took him a while to realize what he should do next. The campsite was still thirty-four kilometers away from the station. Walking was not an option, it would take him seven hours before he would reach it. He didn't even know if he could reach it that way. His only choice would be to hire a cab, and it didn't take him long to book one, albeit begrudgingly. His eyes widened at the ten thousand yen fare, and immediately regretted turning down his parent’s offer. He would be ten thousand yen richer then.
He only breathed a sigh of relief a few minutes after the cab was smoothly driving away from the station. He looked out the window and he could see the peak of Mount Fuji. Finally. He was getting closer and closer to his journey, and the anxiety he was feeling moments before was replaced with poorly concealed excitement. He was reminded why he was doing this and how he was proud that he made it this far.
The buildings and establishments gradually transitioned into plains, with less streets and lesser cars. The patches of trees and bushes grew denser as the cab steadily navigated through what seemed like a growing forest. Taiga basked in what little heat he could feel from the sun through the car's window. It was still early morning and the sun hadn't reached its peak yet, so the light that was filtering through the trees was really pleasing to look at, and seeing the shadows of the leaves that adorned the road was an experience Taiga rarely felt in the city.
Soon the wide and voluminous trees were replaced by birch trees, their tall and white trunks standing proudly on either side of the small road, and their sparse leaves gently dancing in the morning breeze. The rows of trees led to a bridge, and Taiga could already see the campground.
They arrived not long after, and Taiga jumped out of the car as soon as he paid the driver. He gathered his bags and trudged through the short path leading up to the administration building. After he registered, paid, and bought firewood, he quickly tried to find a spot where he could get a good look at Mt. Fuji.
After setting up his tent and chair, he finally sighed in satisfaction. He stretched his limbs and finally sat down, and it seemed that all of worries drained from his body and all that was left was a sense of peace.
Taiga basked in the warmth of the early morning sun that was slowly rising from behind Mt. Fuji. He could hear the birds waking up in the distance, and he welcomed the occasional gust of wind that passed by. He smiled and closed his eyes, content. This was really what he came here for.
A few hours of tranquillity later, he finally got up and brought out ingredients and equipment from the food bag his mom prepared for him. He at least knew how to cook the instant ones, and quickly filled his stomach with food.
In the afternoon, he strolled through the camp, taking pictures of the huge barn and the lake, which by the way, was really majestic beyond words.
He walked around until it was night, cooked and ate dinner, and finally retreated to his tent. Not much happened to his first day at the campsite, and Taiga sleepily wondered, will tomorrow be something different?