学籍番号が私のじゃない。大学の教務課に申請した在籍証明書に間違いがあった。通常、証明書の申請には自販機みたいなものがあるのだけど、研修生にはない。研修生の数が、業務を自動化するコストに合わないんだろう。だからたぶん、これは私の前に申請した人の書類を上書きして作ったんだろう。私の情報はそのまま保存されるんだろう。・・・・・・次の人の証明書でまた同じミスが発生するかもしれない？と、ビジネスモードの私が出てくる。この仮説を含めてメールで問い合わせしたら、次の日に電話がかかってきた。「まったくその通りだったので、申し訳ない」「業務の見直しをする」「証明書は再発行するので取りに来てほしい」とのことだった。次の週、2限の授業が終わって窓口に向かう。お昼休み中で人が少ない。奥のホワイトボードに1日のスケジュールとタスクが書き出されているのが目に入る。用件を伝えると場の空気が少し張った。残っていた方々が小声で話し合い、あっちへ行き、こっちへ行き、おひとりが私のところへやって来た。「このたびは本当にお手数をおかけしました。教務課長もお詫びを申し上げようとお会いしたがっていたのですが、あいにく退席しており・・・・・・」と言われる。「菓子折りをいただけるなら待ちましょうか」と返したら、爆笑されて場がほぐれた。人間、ミスはあります。ありがとうございます。

研修生として、初めての学期が終わった。指導教官に個別指導の時間をいただく。とても充実していたので、やはり何年か続けたい、計画を立てたいと申し出る。「次回のセッションで考えましょう」と言われる。15時半から始まったセッションを終えたのは18時過ぎで、外はすっかり暗くなっていた。オレンジの光がぽつぽつ灯るキャンパスに、風に揺れてしゃらしゃらと鳴る木々。金木犀の匂い。私はここに、あとどれくらいいられるだろう。先生と計画を立てるなら、制度の制約も知っておきたいと思い、翌朝、自宅から教務課に電話する。数年に渡ってこの制度を使い続けることは、指導教官の許可があれば、大学的には大丈夫なんでしょうか。たとえば5年くらい、毎年継続申請したとして、その長さゆえに、スパイかな？とか、変な学生だなとみなされて不合格になることはあるんでしょうか、と尋ねる。私は「利用限度があります」と言われる可能性を見越して緊張し、真面目に尋ねていたので、「はっはっはっ」と電話口で笑われて、つられて笑った。「学科は申し上げられませんが、コロナ前から使ってくださっている方は複数いらっしゃいますよ。だから大丈夫です。使い続けていただけるとうれしいです」と言われた。

研修生は、正規生に比べると費用が抑えられる。他の大学ではもっと高額で、かつ聴講のみ、個別指導なし、というところが多いのに、この大学は違う。指導教官によっても大きく違うと思うけれども、私はたいへんのびのび、ふくふく栄養をいただき、頭をフル回転させて生きることができている。永遠に続くものはない。寒くなってぎゅっとこわばる体。ありがたみを噛みしめる奥歯。

澄んだ水面が小刻みに揺れる。清潔に管理された匂い。足を浸して、プールのふちに座る。そういえば、「あなたはどう思いますか」と問われることが増えた。あなたはどんな人？ あなたの考えはどんなもの？ その背景には何があるの？

大学で今学期取っているのは英詩の授業で、毎回アクティビティーシートといくつかの詩が配られる。詩をあらかじめ読み、アクティビティーシートにある7つほどの問いに自分の考えを書いておくのが宿題。英語でおこなわれる授業だから、英語でまとめておく。「あなたはこの詩の○○について、ポジティブ、ネガティブ、どちらの印象をもちましたか。それはなぜですか」「XXという単語は何を意味していると思いますか。その根拠は何ですか」

オンラインのクリエイティブライティングの授業。説明しすぎの文章はよくないのだけど、私の文章は説明しなさすぎ、明示しなさすぎの傾向があり、先生を混乱させてしまいがちだ。「紺、あなたはこれで何を言いたかったの？」と問われて、あーまたやってしまったと猛省しつつ、書きたかったことをぽつぽつと話す。彼女はそれを受けて、「それはどういう意図なの？」「今言ってた△△という言葉について詳しく教えて」と問いかけてくれる。それでようやく、ああそうかと気づくことがある。自分の中に潜る、それを彼女が待つ、静かな時間。

編み物教室には隔週の日曜日に行っている。他の曜日と違って生徒が来ず、いつも先生とマンツーマンだ。彼女はおしゃべりが好きなので、よく話しかけてくる。編むのが難しいパートにいるとき、私が「先生、ちょっと黙っててください。カウントが飛びます」とお願いすると、「えー、つまんない」とふざけた台詞が返ってくる。そして遅めの昼食やおやつを食べたり、編み物の本を読み始めたりする。他の曜日は数人の生徒がいて、なんだかんだ指導という名のおしゃべりが止まらないから、ほんとうにつまらなさそうだ。でも、私は編み物を習いに来ているのでこれでよい。単純な編み方のパートに入れば、気を緩められる。先生が待ってましたとばかりに話し始める。私は相づちしながら、編みながら、聴く。たまに、流れで私も話す。すると、「え、あなたそのときどう思ったの？」などと問われる。手元を見ながら、考えて、答える。

1回目の大学生時代、授業で当てられることはもちろんあった。だけど正解を言わなきゃという気持ちが強くて、順番が終わると心底安心していた。会社でもそう。何かを問われるということは、往々にして指摘であり、プレッシャーを感じて緊張していた。たぶん私も変わったし、環境も変わった。心理的な安全を感じられる場所で、コンフォートゾーンから半身を出すように暮らしている。問われて初めて気づく切り口。あなたは何を考えてる？ 話していいよ。あなたの世界を広げていい。

息を止めて、温水プールを潜水するのが好きだ。泳ぎ切って、ゆっくりと浮いて、ぷはっと息を吐く。ゴーグルで視界が灰色のまま、また潜りに行く。クラゲもいない、サメもいないプールで、深く潜る。

夫が風邪を引いた。一度引くとこじらせてしまいやすい人だ。

10月のなかば、金曜日、週末の映画のチケットを買った。そのあと、ふたりとも喉が痛くなった。葛根湯とビタミンを摂り、安静にしておく。映画に行けるかしら、どうかしらと思っていたら、彼の風邪だけ悪化した。私だけ回復するのは悪いことをしているみたいでうしろめたい。

もともと体温が高めの人なので、いつも寒くなるぎりぎりまで夏服を着ている。扇風機も回し続けている。そのせいじゃん。私は秋冬用のルームウェアをクローゼットから引っ張り出してきて彼に着せる。白いトレーナーを頭にぱふっとかぶせた時に、彼は「ぱふっ」と言った。おいおい、余裕だな。例年通りならこれから熱が上がるぞ。

彼は病院に行くと気持ちが悪くなるくらい病院が嫌いなので、布団にくるまって過ごす。我が家では、ウイルスにモテモテの状態を「人気者」と呼ぶ。瞬く間に、どんどん人気者になっていく。はちみつに大根を浸して作ったシロップをお湯に溶かして飲ませる。おいしくなさそうなので私は飲んだことがない。おばあちゃんの知恵袋的によく効くらしく、彼には積極的に勧める。とても微妙な顔をしながら飲みきっていた。人として私より上。

ポカリスエットの大きなペットボトルを買ってきたり、ほうれん草とエビと卵のおじやを作ったりして看病する。熱を測る。高い。声をかけても、頭を縦か横に動かすだけだ。ずっと観たかった映画だったけど、もうどうでもいい。早くよくなるように祈る。連休が明けて、平日が始まってもまだつらそうだった。横になりっぱなしの腰や背中をマッサージする。

私が大学に行く日も、彼は会社を休むことにした。何を食べたいか聞いても返事がない。帰りにハンバーガー屋さんに寄れるけど、何もいらない？と聞く。ようやく「照り焼きチキンバーガー」と返ってきた。食べたいものが出てくるのはいい兆候。でもいつもはハンバーガーふたつとポテトを所望するので、本調子ではない。温かいうちに食べてもらおうと急いで帰って渡したら、はむはむと食べていた。ハンバーガーの白い包み紙に顔が隠れるのは、元気なときだろうがそうでなかろうがかわいい。

次の日、食材の買い出しに行く。買ってきてほしいものを聞いてもリクエストがない。風邪ではないけれど、私も体調が悪くてだるだるしていた。栄養のありそうなものを買って帰った。ベッドに寝ている彼の顔をのぞきこみ、夕食のメニューを伝える。ねえ、ファミチキとか食べたくない？買ってこようか？と聞くと、彼は目をつぶったまま頭を横に振った。そっか、買ってきたんだけど食べないんだね、スパイシーなやつ、と言ったら、目がぱちっと開いて、輝いた。うそですと言ったら、しょんぼりしていた。回復は近い。

熱が下がり、食欲も戻って来たころ。頭はどう？と聞いたら、彼は「いい」と言った。そうだね、きみはいつも頭いいよね。胸が苦しかったりしない？痛みがあるなら病院に行かないといけないんじゃないかなとたずねたら、両手で胸を押さえて「きゅん」と言った。おかえり。

「じゃあ次はラブストーリーに取り組みましょう」

クリエイティブライティングの先生とは、関係を築いている最中だ。海賊の話を英語で書いたら、半分くらいは自分らしかったけれど、半分はぎこちなく、言葉を使いこなせない不満を感じた。先生が “Show, don’t tell”（「説明するのではなく、見せる」という、創作の基本のひとつ）の話をしてくれたときに、「それ、たぶん日本語だとめっちゃやってる気がする」と言ったところ、「え！既に書いてあるものないの？読ませて！そこから始めましょう」と言われた。そこで「ふたりでごはんを」の英語バージョン、”MEALS FOR TWO”を書くことになったのだ。

翻訳の初心者ではないし、オリジナルの作者なので、直訳はしない。でも説明しすぎはいやだ。日本語の空気感も残したい。そこで出した第1稿は、細かい英文法・単語のミスがいくつかと、「何を言ってるの？」「なぜ？」という大きめの指摘3つを受けて戻ってきた。”Show, don’t tell”には、「説明しない」も含まれる。だけど、説明しなさすぎるのはよろしくない。大きめの指摘は説明が足りないところだった。日本語の感覚だと、そこの加筆は説明しすぎのように思えた。でも加筆しないと伝わらないので加筆した。”Show, don’t tell”の感覚が少し違うのかもしれないなと、勉強になった。

第2稿の修正はなく、「”Show, don’t tell”のエキスパートね。彼が食べられない理由について何も言ってないのがいい」と言われた。たしかにそこも”Show, don’t tell”。私の文章をいくつか読んでくれた彼女は、私の文章の”subtlety”を褒めてくれた。繊細さ、とらえにくさ、緻密さ、ほのかな感じ、なんとも言い難い感じといった訳がつく単語。自分の日本語の文章に対してそう思っていたので、英語でも伝わるものなんだなと、ちょっとばかしニュアンスが変わったとて残るんだなと、彼女の話を静かに聴いていた。

「こんなラブストーリーを書けるなら、今度はこれをやりましょう」と言われて見せてもらったのが、New York Times（NYT）の人気コーナー “Tiny Love Stories”（ちっちゃなラブストーリー）だった。読者が書いた100語以内のラブストーリーがNYTに載る。あたりまえだけど、ラブストーリーといっても、”romantic”（恋愛に関する、性愛の）だけではない。サンプルで読んだ、”New Announcement, New Name, Still Ours”が印象的だった。

New Announcement, New Name, Still Ours
When you were born, we sent announcements — name, weight, date — engraved on thick white cards with pale pink stripes and polka dots. “It’s a girl,” we said. We were thrilled. Now, 16 years later, so much is new. The pink was wrong. The name was too. This time, we know. It’s a boy. There will be no pastel stationery. This time, we are telling everyone, face to face. He’s ours. — Maria Blackburn

（拙訳）
新しいおしらせ、新しい名前、変わらず私たちの子
あなたが生まれたとき、私たちは名前、体重、誕生日をカードに印刷して送った。薄いピンクのストライプと水玉模様のついた厚めの白いカード。私たちは「女の子です」と書いた。わくわくしていた。16年経った今、何もかもが新しい。ピンクにしたのは間違っていた。名前もそう。今回はわかってる。男の子よ。パステルカラーの便箋は使わない。今回はみんなに直接会って伝える。彼は私たちの子なのって。―マリア・ブラックバーン　

Tiny Love Storiesの創作教育用PDF:
https://int.nyt.com/data/documenttools/teaching-with-tiny-love-stories-pdf/753c41721cde1b10/full.pdf
Tiny Love Storiesの詳細や書き方など：
https://www.nytimes.com/2021/02/08/learning/writing-narratives-with-tiny-love-stories.html

ペットへの愛情も、物事への愛着も、たまに見かけるけど名前は知らない人へのささやかな心配りも、全部ラブストーリーになる。世界の広さに、私は頭がぱっかーんと開いた気持ちになった。これに取り組むの、とても楽しそう！

先生は「紺が長いラブストーリーを書けるのはわかったわ。今度は短いやつね。Less is more（少なければ少ないほど効果は増すという定型句）」と言った。

いつか購読したいと思っていたNew York Times。大学の電子ジャーナルで全部読めると知ったときのうれしさったら。検索したら、読み切れないほどの、たくさんのラブストーリーが出てきた。授業と個別指導とこの購読許可で、大学に支払った研修料のもとが十分に取れてしまうよ。

今日このエッセイを書く前に、ひとつ、ちっちゃなラブストーリーを書いてみた。必要最低限の表現にしたのに、180語になってしまった。全部必要だと思っていたところから削る。かつおぶしみたいにうすく、うすく、少しずつ削る。私はいつも、観察者のような立場と距離感で、静かな文章を書いてしまう。よいところでもあり、悪いところでもあり。でも嫌いじゃない。冒険や実験はしてみたいが。まあ1作目だしと思い、いつものように落ち着けることにした。ちょうど100語。ロマンティックラブストーリーではないラブストーリーが書けた。

来週までに、あと2～4作書く予定。100語が表現できるのはほんの少しのこと。ほんの少しのきらめきが、日常にあふれていて、何を切り取ろうか迷う。

＊「ふたりでごはんを」というエッセイの英語版です

His body was thin, it looked as if it would break at any moment. His back seemed so fragile, as if a spring breeze could carry it away. His suit looked about to slip off his shoulders, and the hand holding his bag looked as though it might come off. His glasses caught the sunlight. That was my very first impression of him. He was a man four years older than me, and would later become my husband.

During the new employee training program, I did an activity called “talk with every colleague who joined the company at the same time as me.” Among us, six were Jimu-kei and sixty were Gijutsu-kei. The Jimu-kei, like me, typically had bachelor’s degrees in humanities or social sciences and were going to be assigned to product planning, sales, or administrative posts. The Gijutsu-kei, on the other hand, mostly held master’s degrees in engineering fields directly linked to their technical posts. In a manufacturing company, working with engineers was unavoidable. I clutched a booklet compiling everyone’s self-introductions and went around speaking to each person. His favorite book was same as mine—Sophie’s World. Perhaps as a courtesy in return for my positive approach, he gave me a peculiar compliment: “Your physical posture during training is excellent.”

The Jimu-kei members were assigned to departments earlier than the Gijutsu-kei members. I joined the Human Resources Development section in the Personnel Department. Following a senior colleague, I began observing technical training sessions. One of the newly hired female engineers, whom I already got to know, told me that the glasses-wearing man wrote beautiful code. From her comment, it sounded like he was intelligent, and probably competent. But without much weight. He was present there, but seemed absent.

In early summer, on the last day of training, senior staff members came from several departments to the training center to pick up their groups of new employees. But his department was different. Located far from the main factory area, they had not received a new employee in years, so there was no one to come for him. That’s why it became my task to escort him there. We walked the twenty-minute path slowly. He was stiff with tension, and I wanted to put him at ease, so I showed him the wallpaper on my cell phone: Rilakkuma lounging leisurely.¹

We began spending time together. We went to secondhand bookstores. He taught me how to use a film camera at a park. We soon started dating. He struggled to write love letters. Typing and deleting again and again, his battery draining rapidly. At last he completed a carefully chosen short message, pressed a “send” button, and exhaled. My reply arrived instantly. He said, “I’m in trouble. Because of you, I end each day only thinking of you.”

He could not eat in front of others. He skipped lunch at the office. On dates, he made me eat heartily and watched me with a gentle smile. He could at least drink tea and alcohol. He said that during the first three years of university, he never ate lunch at all. In the next three years, once he joined a research lab, in the daytime, he survived on two boxes of Choco-Ball peanut flavor every day.² If someone forgot their lunch, he would give them a box. He even gave away the collectible golden and silver beaks³ to his lab colleagues without hesitation.

It wasn’t just about meals—he seemed a little tense around everyone, not just me. A lack of body weight, as though he might vanish by himself. As a new HR worker, I worried that he might snap somewhere in his career. However, he was another person. I had no right to force him to change his way of eating, to gain weight, or to break the psychological wall with others. That change, if it were to happen, had to come from him.

The first time I cooked at his room, he ate a little. Gazing at the chicken rice which was my local cuisine, he said, “It’s delicious,” lifted his face, and smiled shyly. I realized he wanted to be able to eat. So I decided to do what I could. We chose private rooms when dining out. We created a few familiar restaurants. I divided dishes into small portions and asked, “Do you want to nibble?” If he ate, I did not rejoice too much. If he did not, I did not feel disappointed. I stayed calm. I ate my own meal without worrying.

He must have gathered great courage and effort. Little by little, the kinds and amounts of food we could share increased. During that time, I kept records of his eating: eggs must be thoroughly cooked; milk and cream were bad; cheese was fine; he liked noodles and lean meat; solid textures were easier to eat; fish required careful attention to avoid smell; alcohol increased his appetite. While he changed, I tried to remain a person who watched over him quietly and fondly. When he began finishing my small servings of meals, I wished that someday, as he had grown used to me, he would come to feel “safe” even around others. So I encouraged him with many kinds of food.

He began with “eating a bear”. Rilakkuma, the master of relaxation. At Lawson⁴ convenience stores, there was a campaign where you could collect stickers to receive a special Rilakkuma plate. I asked him casually, “If you shop at Lawson and get a sticker, could you give it to me?” But he took it as an important mission for his girlfriend. He visited Lawson constantly, buying the most cost-efficient sandwiches, and started eating them at the office. His boss, who had noticed he never ate lunch, helped with the sticker collecting with pleasure. At some point, my boyfriend became more of a Rilakkuma fan than I was. One day he returned from Tokyu Hands⁵ with a stuffed toy of Rilakkuma and declared, “This is mine.”

For his birthday in November, I gave him a whole cake with a message plate and candles. He ate it while tears streamed silently down his face. Later he said, “Let’s go to a restaurant on Christmas Eve.” By then, he was able to eat out only with me. I said, “I like Italian.” He proudly emailed me, “Reserved!” But on December 24th, he triumphantly led me to a girls’ bar⁶. It served Italian food. Because he had been feeling uneasy in dining with others, it was no wonder he was so unfamiliar with Hot Pepper⁷, a booking website that he couldn’t use well. He must have been so nervous about booking his first luxurious restaurant date with me that he simply clicked “Reserve” on the stylish but vacant Italian place he saw, completely missing the detail that it was a girls’ bar. I quickly found another restaurant and we went in.

His Christmas gift to me was a teacup and a saucer. When you poured tea into the teacup, a heart appeared. He also gave me a plain brown office envelope. Its corner was bent, and the flap was not sealed. Inside was a letter written with a fountain pen: “It might still be empty. But even drop by drop, I want to fill it for you from now on.” His straightforwardness saw through the sense of emptiness I kept hidden. And clumsily yet earnestly, he gave me what he could. I thought to myself, “I want to be a well-matched girlfriend to him. Can I do it?” A part of me thanked him. But another, more childish part of me, was still sulking about the girls’ bar incident. Seeing this plain office envelope, that childish part won. Pretending not to feel introspective, I grumbled “At least you should have bought a proper letter set.”

Though I stayed pouty until the end of the year, once January came, I was busy laughing at the memory. Perhaps it would have been fine to spend Christmas Eve at the girls’ bar. Between us, an atmosphere grew that allowed us to find amusement in whatever happened.

I think “kawaii-ness⁸” includes softness, humor, playfulness, and the ability to open one’s heart to others. I wanted to know more about the glimpses of charming kawaii-ness he occasionally showed. At that time, he only knew barbers where all customers got the same masculine hairstyle. I introduced him to my favorite beauty salon, so he could taste a professional’s touch. As soon as he sat down on a seat, he said, “I was told to say, ‘Please make me kawaii.’” The stylist was stunned and soon understood who was behind him. The resulting wavy, mash-short cut⁹ suited him perfectly, bringing out his inner kawaii-ness. Pleased by my wide-eyed praise, he got a taste of success and began visiting the salon regularly to explore his charm together with the stylist.

When we got engaged, I presented a voucher for a custom-made suit to him. Kawaii-ness needed handsomeness for balance. He usually tended to say “I don’t care what I wear.” Just as he had discovered with his hair, I wanted him to taste what it feels like to wear something truly made for him. A suit tailored to his body looked apparently different. He looked quite satisfied because in his heart he really longed to be an English gentleman. Through professionals, both his kawaii-ness and handsomeness were polished. He learned how to embrace himself by self-care.

He even “ate” LINE stickers¹⁰. He was originally a flip-phone user, but he liked LINE stickers so much that he bought a smartphone. Before long, he began behaving like the stickers themselves—saying things like “Grrr…” “Bowing” “Shock!” “Ta-da!” as if in a manga. Gazing at me with teary eyes, peeking out from behind doors. He delighted in witty responses and inventing stamp combinations. One day he laughed, “Today I almost said ‘Shoboon’¹¹ to my boss.” The emotions he expressed through stickers became nourishment for his humor.

After our marriage, we DIY-ed an outdoor wedding on a farm. “Our first joint project should be preparing our wedding, not cutting the cake.” From the concept to bus arrangements, we built it together as if managing a work project. My tasks: direction, searching business partners, website design, pamphlet design, material procurement, and making decorations. His: website coding, calculations, fabric cutting, printing, transport. We hired specialists for the attire, food, venue design, music, and photography. We did not adopt the usual first bite¹²—where the groom feeds the bride to symbolize he will never make her hungry, and the bride feeds the groom to symbolize she will cook delicious meals. Most couples use big spoons. We redefined it as “earn money together, cook together.” Instead of cake, we prepared a one-meter pan of paella made with the rice we ate daily. Under the full moon, we each fed the other a spoonful with small wooden spoons.

Our life changed quietly and gently. Recently, we had a pizza party. When I called “It’s ready!” he bounded into the living room. Straight for the Margherita. His pace of eating pizza outstripped his drinking speed. After finishing his portion, he stared longingly at mine. He said persuasively, “I love a pizza. It’s delicious, right? We should eat more pizza.” I put my last piece on his plate. It disappeared quickly. We ended up baking a second one: mayonnaise, whitebait, and aonori seaweed. It also disappeared quickly. Afterward, he sprawled on the bed, tipsy and happy. When I sat beside him, he immediately wrapped his arms around my waist and fell asleep. I couldn’t move.

We love to develop our family lexicon. The original words and phrases are not official in Japanese dictionary. One of them is “kotene.” It means falling asleep before a bath when several conditions happen together—being mentally satisfied by success or fun, pleasantly tired, having eaten delicious food, and having drunk a certain amount of alcohol. Until the very end, he insists, “I’ll take a bath”, “I’m just lying down”, “I’m not asleep,” and then finally tells me a lie. His soft and warm presence makes me forgive it, as long as it’s occasional. Sometimes he half-wakes, jokes “supi—”¹³, and dozes again. Precious.

Compared with when we first met, he has gained weight. He is now at a healthy standard. Handsomeness, intelligence, sincerity. Kawaii-ness, softness, humor. Technical skills, professional achievements, confidence. All in good balance. He eats the bento lunch I make. Even if I cut corners and repeat the same menu, he cheers as if it were a series, saying, “Spaghetti Bolognese Chapter Three!” On nights when he goes to drinking parties, I no longer prepare late-night food in case he could eat nothing. When he returns, he tells me about the dishes he ate and the lively conversations. When business partners visit at the company, he chooses restaurants for lunch and even offers souvenirs. He enjoys work while cooperating with others.

Back then, my wish for him was simple: that he would gradually find people in his life who made him feel it was okay to be himself. Since I had never been able to picture myself living long, I never imagined I would become one of them. However, before I knew it, by his side, I also had become someone different. Each time his appetite grew, it was as if he quietly shared nourishment with me.

An empty teacup is filled with tea. Steam rises. We sip slowly. Some days we spill. Sometimes it overflows. Once emptied, it is filled again. I want us to keep changing together, to keep being together.

Twelve years of marriage. May our days of saying “Itadakimasu” and “Gochisosama”¹⁴ together last as long as possible.

Notes:

1 Rilakkuma (リラックマ) : A Japanese character meaning “Relaxed Bear,” extremely popular in merchandise and mascots.

2. Choco-Ball (チョコボール) : A long-selling Japanese candy. Bite-sized chocolate-coated peanuts or caramel.

3. Golden and silver beaks (金のくちばし／銀のくちばし) : Special prize tokens attached to Choco-Ball boxes; collecting them can be exchanged for toys.

4. Lawson (ローソン) : A major Japanese convenience store chain.

5. Tokyu Hands (東急ハンズ) : A large Japanese variety store selling lifestyle goods, crafts, and hobbies.

6. Girls’ bar (ガールズバー) : A Japanese nightlife establishment where female staff serve drinks and chat with customers, but it is not a hostess club.

7. Hot Pepper (ホットペッパー) : A Japanese coupon and restaurant reservation magazine/website.

8 Kawaii（かわいい）：A Japanese word for a quality that inspires affection. While similar to “cute,” kawaii is not limited to the small or childlike. It can describe the endearing inner self that shines through, even in a mature adult. It can also describe the gentle side of a person who is otherwise intellectually or emotionally strong, creating a charming and deeply human contrast.

9. Mash-short (マッシュショート) : A haircut style similar to a mushroom cut, but styled loosely.

10. LINE stickers (LINEスタンプ) : Emoticon-like images used in the messaging app LINE; highly popular, often character-based.

11. “Shoboon” (しょぼーん) : Japanese onomatopoeia for feeling down or crestfallen.

12. First bite (ファーストバイト) : A Japanese wedding custom where bride and groom feed each other cake as a symbolic gesture.

13 “supi—”（すぴー）：Japanese onomatopoeia of sleeping breath.

14 “Itadakimasu”（いただきます）and “Gochisosama”（ごちそうさま）：Japanese phrases said before/after meals, expressing gratitude for food.