He appeared out of nowhere, and suddenly it was 2016 again.
Back then, I was living in Tokyo, dropped into a university experience that felt more like being tossed into the deep end without knowing how to swim. I had expected Japanese language classes, something structured, something survivable. Instead, I found myself sitting through lecture on law, economics, marketing…all in Japanese.
The professors didn’t speak English.
Our classmates didn’t speak English.
And we weren’t treated any differently from anyone else. It was confusing, overwhelming, and at times quietly terrifying.
And then there was Szabi. One of the few people I connected with during that time. Another lost soul in some maze, trying to figure out how we were supposed to pass classes we couldn’t even understand. We didn’t have answers, but at least we weren’t alone in the question.
Instead of letting it drag us down, we made a quiet decision.
If we couldn’t control the academic chaos, we would at least make sure to enjoy our time in Japan.
One day, he showed up holding a small camera. He told me he had bought it at a second-hand shop and that he loved photography. I remember feeling unexpected wave of happiness, like something had just clicked into place. Since then, we spent countless hours wandering around Tokyo, getting lost and capturing those moments.
Fast forward to 2026.
Ten years later, in Osaka, he appeared again. Backpack, camera and same energy. As if no time had passed at all. He asked me if I wanted to go hiking and of course I said yes.
The next morning we took the train to Minoh. The original plan was simple. A quick hike to the waterfall.
Naturally we did none of that.
Somewhere along the way, I suggested we extend the hike all the way to Katsuoji Temple. It sounded like a good idea at the time. What I won’t do here is recommend our route, mostly because we got lost…three times.
What was supposed to be a one-hour walk turned into a six-hour adventure. But honestly, that’s exactly what it needed to be.
We talked the entire way. About everything and nothing. About who we were back then and who we’ve become. We took photos, just like we used to. It felt familiar in the best way. Like stepping into an old photograph and realizing you still belong there.
It made me realize something.
Some friendships don’t fade with time. They just pause, quietly, until life brings you back to the same path again.
Getting lost three times might not sound like the ideal start to a new year. But for me, it was perfect. Because if 2026 is going to be anything like that day, then I think I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.