"Fate Quietly Ties Up Loose Ends" - Voyage Tetralogy Chapter 2

On a night without the scent of the tide, I picked up a "compass needle."

It was a tiny event, one that quietly told me, who had been lost, that "it's okay to stay as you are."

It was the beginning of a story where a chance encounter would eventually quietly set my life in motion.

In a kitchen in Yoyogi-Uehara where the scent of spices rose, the person on the other side of the pot was a president who didn't smile.

It was a curry home party I was invited to through event connections.

I went out without any special purpose, just hoping to eat something delicious and get a little change of pace.

The person sitting next to me at the table was a man with a sturdy build.
He carried a calm air about him, and I imagined to myself that he might be a police officer.

When I talked to him, I found out he was the president of a certain listed company.

The moment the word "IR" slipped out, I realized he was no ordinary person. But strangely, I didn't feel guarded. If anything, that gap made the armor around my heart loosen just a little.

He looked like he was about to say something, then stopped. He looked quietly into my eyes. I felt something like a "willingness to listen" that wasn't expressed in words deep within his gaze, and strangely, my heart unraveled.

I talked about my experiences and the events I was planning.
Work related to the sea, networking events for unique jobs, fisherman's meal events...
The president smiled and said, "That's interesting, you're working hard."

That was enough.
I felt, just a little, as if "someone had found me."

About a year later.
One day, out of the blue, I received a message saying they would support the venue costs for my event.

It was an unexpected offer.

I had thought the words from that time hadn't reached anywhere.
Since that night we exchanged business cards, contact had remained broken.
Even though it was just a passing rain shower of a night for me,
had something been quietly growing inside him?

When I asked, I learned he was a president who ran a community in Tokyo and had found my activities on Jimoty.
Furthermore, as I listened to him talk at a Starbucks in Kanda,

he said, "Actually, I have a mutual acquaintance who is the president of a certain listed company."

The moment I heard that name, my chest grew warm.
It was that president who had been sitting next to me at that curry party.

Without me knowing, someone had connected the dots for me.

When I contacted the president immediately,
　　"So that's where it connected, huh?"
came the short, yet warm reply.

"I noticed," "I'm rooting for you"
—that's how it sounded to me.

Come to think of it, that night, although we exchanged business cards, I couldn't bring myself to send a Facebook request right away.

We had exchanged cards, but I was afraid to accept his kindness at face value, and it took me three months to finally send that Facebook request.

At that curry gathering, I exchanged business cards with several other people as well.
But with anyone other than that president—nothing came of it afterward.

Even though I knew in my head that this was normal,
it was still a little lonely to feel the warmth of that night becoming a memory that belonged only to me.

Even so, I felt as if the memory of that day had been "entirely" validated.
Perhaps the president's words had quietly shone a light on that accumulation of time.

"Even if it doesn't sprout right away, there are people watching."

Those words someone once told me suddenly came to mind.
I felt as if that night, and all the hesitation that followed, had all been connected in a single line.

So this is how foreshadowing is recovered.
It was a feeling of being told that what I thought was "not yet" was actually "now."

A fisherman's meal event was realized in a corner of Yotsuya.
It wasn't that the president was there. But his words were certainly somewhere in the venue.
"I think it will be a good gathering."
The memory of him saying that played over and over in my mind.

Edomae wild conger eel, suji-aonori seaweed. With the help of a chef friend from Akasaka—thanks to everyone, it became a warm and luxurious moment.

Before me was a bowl of suji-aonori rice, gently steaming.

When I told a female entrepreneur friend about this event,
"Wasn't that 'inevitable' rather than a coincidence?"
she said.

I suddenly felt like crying.

In places unseen, your words and actions remain within someone.
And then, one day, they quietly return in a different form.

In that moment, I finally realized that the "compass needle I picked up that night" was still resting in the palm of my hand.

It was the realization that
"I had truly been seen."
That was the feeling.

And it was a small conviction that
"It is okay to believe in my own story."

Even if this is a time when no one notices you,
it might just be "in the middle of foreshadowing that hasn't been collected yet."
That was the case for me, too.

So surely, in your story too,
a day will come when you "understand the meaning of it."

The day you realize that a chance encounter was not just by chance.

"Connections come around to those who are prepared to move forward."

I felt like I understood, just a little bit,
what someone meant when they said that that night.

That is why I am still preparing to meet someone even now.

I continue to write words and continue to hold events.

Because that might one day become a "light" that illuminates someone's foreshadowing.

I believe in a future where that will one day quietly intersect with someone else's "coincidence" again.

There may be foreshadowing within you, too, that is quietly being collected. When you notice it, it will surely become a fragment of hope.

"I was saved by those words back then."
"Now I understand the meaning of that encounter."

A story of your own "quiet collection of foreshadowing" like that.

If you would like—it is okay to be gentle.
I would be happy if you could let me hear your words in the comments section.

Because the moment you feel "I have been found" is, after all, special.

That is why I still want to be "someone who finds others."

And I want to leave behind words that can hand a "needle" to someone who is lost, just as I once was.

That night, I thought, "No one will ever pick up my story."

But now, I have come to believe that "maybe, someday, someone will pick it up."
That was my smallest, yet most certain change.

If I can gently shine a light on someone's foreshadowing while I weave my words—that is enough.

[Afterword | Quiet foreshadowing will surely be collected]

This story is a collection of life's small foreshadowings, written with the belief that "the day will come when someone finds it."

May this story also gently illuminate the "quiet foreshadowing" within you.

※ This work has received many impressions from note users. The following is one of the voices that resonated particularly deeply among them.

"I could have passed it by because it's about a person related to ships, but these words strangely stick with me..."

"I was moved by that power to turn coincidence into opportunity."

My self-introduction is also designed with foreshadowing.

※ This series originally set sail as a "trilogy." However, with the addition of "Compass of Love," it became a tetralogy revolving around the "voyage called life" before I knew it.

"Another port of call" that seemed like a coincidence, but was surely inevitable—that is what brought new wind and gentle light to this story.

[Work 1] "That Day, I Began 'Reality Reincarnation'" - The meaning of "my own life" found beyond escapism

[Work 2] This work, "Fate Quietly Collects Its Foreshadowing" - A story of a quiet fresh start where coincidence and inevitability intersect

[Work 3] "What Decontamination Work in Fukushima in 2013 Taught Me About Hope Amidst Despair" - A record of "life" and "hope" seen from the front lines

[Side Work 1] "The Night I Lost My Compass of Love - Etcetera of a Sailor Fortune Teller Who Doesn't Understand 'Ordinary Love'" - An essay on "restarting love" that transcends age and profession

[Extra Edition]
"The Day I Was Told 'We're the Same Kind'"
- An extra edition of the Voyage Tetralogy. A quiet dialogue "exchanged in the shadows of the main story."

I reply to every comment.
Even a single word like "I read it" is very welcome. I am waiting for your voice at the port.

To everyone who reads this every day, thank you so much.