What Letters Taught Me [Travelogue | Reunion Edition]

At the end of 2025, I got my hands on two tickets.

One was a highway bus ticket. The other was for a certain event.

A friend I used to exchange letters with was going to have a booth at the event. Well, she has been active on the front lines for years now, but for some reason, my husband is currently working away from home in the city where this event is being held for the first time. A miraculous combination had come together, so there was no choice but to go—run! So, I diligently washed dishes at a spot job, wrestled with conveyor belts on other days, and sometimes cracked open dry ice. No, it felt more like I struggled while failing to crack it open, but anyway, I did my best. That is how much I wished to go on this trip and to this event.

That event is...

A paper-themed event hosted by Tegamisha. It is a dream place for those who love stationery, paper goods, and illustrations. For years, I had been longing for it from behind my screen, thinking, 'Oh, how nice, how nice, how nice.' There were years when it was held in a neighboring prefecture, but my plans were wiped clean by the COVID-19 pandemic. In the end, I just kept building up my dreams without being able to take action, always saying, 'Someday. Someday.' In 2025, after falling ill, I started thinking that I should do the things I want to do while I still can (within my capabilities). In my planner's 'bucket list,' among the names of several friends and acquaintances I wrote down, I included her, my pen pal. I feel like I haven't seen her in person for years—no, that's not an exaggeration, it's been nearly twenty years.
It was undoubtedly she, through our exchange of letters, who taught me the joy of letter-writing and the charm of the warmth of paper.

In an era when digital was on the rise, shortly after Windows 95 was released, I wrote a letter to her, someone whose face I didn't even know.

Her choice of stationery always had great taste, her handwriting was cute, and even the little caterpillar she drew to erase mistakes was so cute that I wanted to copy it. We even exchanged faxes once; I remember the excitement of feeling like we were communicating in real-time when the text came out printed on thermal paper with a buzzing sound. Letters might just be trivial exchanges, but I started observing my daily life from a slightly more interesting perspective, thinking, 'I'll write this to her.'
I would write about my mundane daily life just as it was and send it off, and when her letter arrived in my mailbox months later, I would run up the stairs with the joy of receiving a present.

How many years have passed since then?
Before I knew it, our surnames had changed, and we had only met in person a few times. Was I the only one who felt a sense of connection? Because she flew off as if she were shining, steadily building her career and warming people's hearts more and more. We haven't met in years, and lately, we haven't exchanged letters at all... I wonder if she remembers me. No, even if she doesn't remember me, I prepared a letter filled with the sentiment, 'I have always been rooting for you,' and jumped onto the highway bus.

Even though I intended to sleep during the trip, I would be able to see my husband. I would be able to see my friend. I might even be able to go to the dream event. My heart was pounding, and I couldn't help but enjoy watching the scenery fly by.

Thinking back, both our environments changed, and after several moves, our addresses were lost, and the letters I sent stopped receiving replies. Neither of us is to blame; there are times in life when paths don't cross. While dreaming of the day we might meet at an intersection and say, 'Oh? Is that you?', and while thinking of her far away, she formed a unit and started working as a creator, and before I knew it, she had jumped beyond the label of 'friend' and become a creator I truly love.

――――

The day of the event. My husband and I are both self-confessed 'rain-bringers.' As we excitedly rode the train and stepped outside to walk from the station near the venue, the rain welcomed us. I guess we really are ourselves only when we possess this ability. We each quickly prepared our folding umbrellas, and we even have water-absorbent umbrella bags for when we put them away. Each of us. My husband, who has a naturally high level of 'feminine' attention to detail, started showing off his masculinity, and thanks to me finally becoming interested in such things at this age, we are now able to prepare our folding umbrellas and their storage bags with perfect synchronization. It is nothing short of moving. Everything is moving for some reason.

Everyone walking from the station was heading in the same direction.
'These must be people going to the Paper Expo.'
'I'm sure they are.'
'There are more families than I thought.'
'There are a lot of women, but it looks like there are a lot of men, too.'

We chatted happily along the way, keeping a distance so our umbrellas wouldn't bump into each other. The time I get to spend meeting and talking with my husband in person after so long is ticklish in a way.

We finally arrived at the Fukiage Hall, the venue. But where is the entrance? I'm sure if we follow the flow of people, we won't go wrong. Oh right, I have to make sure to shake the water off my umbrella and put it in the water-absorbent bag; I'm all set. Huh? It seems the flow of people from earlier is splitting into several directions. Even though this is my first time here, the joy and excitement of being in a 'place I've longed to visit' triggered a wild intuition filled with mysterious confidence. I pointed and trotted off, saying, 'It's that way! Look! There's a flag!' My husband, with a lingering trace of anxiety, asking 'Really?', ran alongside me as we headed toward what looked like the entrance.

Ah, there's the entrance, there's the sign, okay, let's go.

Aichi Tomica Expo in NAGOYA

“That’s not right.”
My husband’s modest cry echoes in my ears.

If it weren't for my husband’s interjection, I would have rushed into the Tomica Expo and played with the Plarail trains. I proved my own clumsiness. No, that doesn't matter.

Paper Expo. Paper Expo.

When I went to the second floor of the hall, I took out the tickets I had prepared. As I climbed the stairs, I reached the place I had longed for...

At first, the crowd caused my internal crowd-limiter to break, and I was hit with dizziness, so I don't remember much. I was so flustered that even my husband, who was by my side, became uneasy. Staggering, I went to the booth I was aiming for, with the single-minded desire to greet her first... and her figure, quietly and diligently working, jumped into my view.

“There she is.”

I was happy. She looked busy, and there were other customers, so I hesitated, but since I had come all this way, I took a deep breath and took a step forward. I asked the staff at the storefront to let me greet her as she worked in the back. She slowly appeared from the back and said,

“Oh. Chimo-chan?”

Reuniting with her after not seeing her for many years felt so natural, and it was strangely close, making me feel as if the time we hadn't met didn't exist.

I was able to hand over the letter I had brought so it wouldn't get wet in the rain and a small gift, and that was enough. I thought she must have been spending her time very busily. While we were greeting her, someone asked for an autograph, and I felt a bit sorry, but there was one wish I wanted her to grant. When she finished serving the customer and turned back to us, I took a postcard out of my bag and told her.

“It’s cheeky of me, but could I have your autograph too?”

It was a postcard she had released as a creator several years ago. She is currently active as part of a two-person creator unit. She is in charge of the artwork. I had brought my favorite one in my bag. Even though I have received many letters from her, I wanted to take home one tangible memory of reuniting with the “current” her, and she gladly accepted my selfish request.

My husband was watching over us from the side, and when she took the postcard in her hand, she gave a little smile.

“That’s a lovely drawing.”

A cute joke. While she was quietly drawing her signature and an illustration, my husband peeked at her hand and laughed, saying, “That’s amazing.” I told him not to wander around so much, but no matter how you look at it, I must have been the one acting suspiciously. When I nervously took the finished postcard in my hands, the words “Thank you” were written on it. Even though I hadn't done anything by coming here.

As I stood there, moved to tears,

My husband pointed and said, "There's Chimo-chan," so I looked around, wondering where, where, but I couldn't see a face that looked like mine. She giggled, so I looked around even more, eyes darting, and to my surprise, my trademark was drawn right in the center.

When Chimo was a child, she loved rice bowl dishes. Seeing that she had actually drawn a reminder of that made me feel so happy, so happy, and I wanted to slowly immerse myself in the memory. But she has her own time, so I waved and said, "I'll come back later to chat properly," and we decided to head off to the Paper Expo event hall for a while.

At a later date, I plan to post about thePaper Expo Event Edition. I was overwhelmed by how many more shops there were than I had imagined. I was happy to see that in so many of the shops, you could really feel the love the creators put into their work.

It was a while after noon when we returned to her shop. Perhaps because I was too absorbed in the artwork, my husband said, "I'll be wandering around nearby, so take your time looking," and drifted off somewhere. I wanted to look together... feeling a little disappointed, I trotted over to the checkout area and saw two people I recognized talking and smiling.

Could that be my husband and her?

The two of them had only just met, so wait a minute. That's not fair, let me in, I want to talk too! As I approached, my husband said happily and a bit shyly, "We were just talking." She was smiling next to him.
My husband is extremely shy, so I was happy to see him talking so naturally with a friend.
A reunion with a pen pal. And the meeting of two people I love and cherish. Both scenes were strangely natural and calm. The reunion was over in a flash, and we waved goodbye and headed home.

A reunion with a pen pal.
And the meeting of two people I love and cherish.

Both scenes were strangely natural and calm. The reunion was over in a flash, and we waved goodbye and headed home.

It wasn't raining anymore on the way to the station, and there were puddles here and there on the sidewalk, so we avoided them, almost like a game.

When I asked my husband what he had been talking about with her,

"When I was wandering around, she was the one who spoke to me first, asking 'What have you seen?' so I told her, 'I went to that shop and that shop, and I had this kind of experience.' And I told her, 'It's amazing that you made all of this from scratch, all by yourself.'"

Deep down, I was very surprised. That at that venue, at that scale, and at an event held repeatedly, my husband felt that it was "made by human hands from scratch," and that he had spoken about it without any pretense.

We couldn't walk straight on the sidewalk with its puddles, zig-zagging and hopping. That is how we tucked our memories into our hearts as naturally as breathing, repeating meetings and partings, hopping and trotting along, and I'm sure we will meet new days again beyond the corners we turn.

Waving our hands, we wished for a reunion, saying, "Until next time."
I don't know how many years it will be, but the letters truly connected people, and they sowed the seeds for new encounters once again.

The letter taught me.
It kept our feelings connected.
Thank you.

By the time we reached the station, there was no sign of rain left. It seems we used up all our ability at the beginning. Perhaps the rain at that time had turned into raindrops out of a joy that couldn't be contained.

Postscript: I used the stamp image from 3.7 🙇🫶✨ Thank you very much

[Bonus]

Lunch.

Looking at it from a distance

Wait, didn't you say you were going to eat eel?

What about the hitsumabushi?
If you're thinking that, please"Meal Time (Hitsumabushi Edition)"and come visit that too. I'll probably write it.

👇️I'm trying to keep a casual record👇️