The first ride of the new year felt kind of special, even though it was just another regular day. I got on the Ueno-Tokyo Line at my usual station, heading to Shinagawa. It wasn’t a long ride, but somehow, it felt like maybe it could start the year in a nice way.
When I got on, the train wasn’t too crowded yet. I found an empty two-seater near the window and slid into the seat. It felt rare to have a bit of space all to myself, so I just looked out the window and watched the city passing by. The morning felt calm, and I was happy for that.
At the next stop, though, a mom and her little boy got on. She looked around for a seat and saw the one next to me. I smiled at her and moved closer to the window, so it was easier for her to sit down.
“Thank you,” she said softly, settling into the seat with her son on her lap. He was so small—his legs didn’t even reach the floor, just swinging a little as he leaned back against her. He clutched a small action figure in his hand like it was his biggest treasure.
The boy stared out the window, his eyes wide and sparkling. “Look, look! A bridge!” he said, his voice so excited. His mom nodded and murmured little replies as he pointed at everything outside, explaining it all in his own way. She looked tired, but there was something gentle about the way she smiled at him.
At Shimbashi, the boy whispered something to her, and she reached into her bag, pulling out a small pack of crackers. He tore it open like it was a surprise gift, crumbs falling onto his lap as he munched. Then, to my surprise, he turned toward me and held out the packet with a shy smile.
“Oh, thank you,” I said softly, smiling back but not taking one. His mom glanced over quickly and brushed the crumbs off his lap. “I’m sorry,” she said, sounding a little embarrassed.
“No, it’s okay,” I said. “He’s very sweet.” And he truly was.
By the time we reached Shinagawa, the train had filled up completely. I stood up to give them more space and stepped into the aisle. As I waited by the door, I glanced back to see the boy giving me the tiniest wave. His fingers barely moved, but his smile was there. It was so small, but it stayed with me.
Shinagawa Station was busy and noisy as always, but today it felt a little different. The flow of people was almost comforting. I stopped by a small stationery shop and picked up a new planner for the year. I promised myself this time I’d actually use it.
Back home, I poured a cup of tea and curled up on the bed. The boy’s little wave played in my mind again, and I couldn’t help smiling. It wasn’t a big or exciting day, but it made me feel light. A quiet, gentle start to the year—and that was enough.