Tokyo Club Zero

The soft hum of Tokyo's early morning traffic filtered through the thin walls of our apartment. I blinked my eyes open, greeted by the familiar sight of my cluttered bedroom. Posters of bands I no longer listened to, a stack of unread books on my desk, and a pile of clothes that had long given up hope of being folded. I stretched, feeling the resistance of the tangled sheets before finally kicking them off.

The smell of breakfast wafted through the air, and I made my way to the kitchen, where Mom was already bustling about, her energy levels disturbingly high for this hour. She wore her usual floral apron, the one that had seen better days but was too sentimental to replace.

"Good morning, Amy," she said without turning around, her tone a mix of warmth and urgency. "Breakfast is almost ready."

"Morning," I mumbled, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and sliding into a chair at the small dining table. I watched her for a moment, marveling at how she could manage to be so awake.

She placed a steaming bowl of rice and an uncracked egg on a small platter before finally sitting across from me. She folded her hands neatly, a sure sign that a serious conversation was about to happen.

"Amy," she began, her eyes meeting mine with that intense look that always made me feel on edge. "We need to talk about your future."

I nodded slowly, already knowing where this was headed. We'd had this talk before. Many times.

"It's been six months since you left college," she continued. "And I know it was hard for you, but you can't just drift forever."

"I'm not drifting," I protested weakly, even though that's exactly what it felt like. "I'm just... taking a break."

Mom sighed, her shoulders slumping a bit. "I understand needing time to figure things out, but you need to find a job, Amy. Something to give you structure, a sense of purpose. You can't just stay here doing nothing."

I looked down at my breakfast, suddenly losing my appetite. "I know, Mom. I know."

She reached across the table and placed her hand on mine. "You're a smart, capable young woman. I believe in you. But you need to start believing in yourself too. Just start with something small. Anything."

Her words lingered in the air, heavy with expectation. I knew she was right, but the idea of stepping out into the world again felt overwhelming. Still, I managed a small nod. "Okay. I'll start looking."

Mom smiled, relief washing over her features. "That's my girl. Just take it one step at a time."

As I finished my breakfast, I couldn't help but feel the weight of her words settle into my bones. One step at a time, I thought. Maybe, just maybe, I'd find my way after all.