Fake Uniform

Tokyo was a city that
did not turn me away, even though I was wearing a fake uniform.

I am a high school dropout.
So even if I wear a uniform, it is not a properhigh school uniform.
It is not the real thing; it is a costume uniform.

But I wanted to wear a uniform.
A cute skirt and a Uniqlo cardigan.
I pair them with a ribbon I like.
It is my own uniform, which I put together little by little with money I saved from my part-time job.

Dressed like that, I commute to Tokyo.
To go to a cram school for the high school equivalency exam.
I was afraid of being seen in that outfit in my hometown.
I walked quickly at my local station.
I didn't know what people might say.
Wearing a uniform when I'm not a proper high school student.
I felt painful, thinking that's what people would think of me.

But Tokyo is different.
No one asks about my circumstances.
No one stops to judge me.
That is why I could wear my favorite uniform and walk with my head held high.
I learned in Tokyo that being left alone can be such a kind thing.

When cram school ends, I head to Ueno Station.
Then I take an MD out of my bag and listen to Spitz's "Cherry."
I ride in the very back of the Joban Line, in the box seats of car 15.
I loved that time before departure.
When I listen to that song in the slightly soft air of spring, my tense feelings loosen up just a little.

The Ueno Station of today is completely clean.
But back then, there was a narrow passage from the Joban Line to the Yamanote Line, and I loved that path.
It was a bit old, a bit cluttered, but it properly connected to the next place.
Maybe that passage was a bit like me back then, as I didn't truly belong anywhere.

Ueno Station 20 years ago.
In that place, I commuted to Tokyo wearing a fake uniform, carrying a self that had yet to become anything.
Even so, Tokyo said nothing to me.
It didn't turn me away either.

The goodness of Tokyo isn't just its glamour.
It is that it properly leaves a place for people who are still on their way..