A photo of Shigeru Mizuki Road in Sakaiminato, Tottori from my day trip with Yutaka and Daigo. It’s home to the museum to the legendary manga artist of the same name who is largely responsible for the depiction of modern yōkai (demons) that are popular in manga and anime.

When we arrived inside the Izumo Airport, everyone gathered around and took one last group photo around the Prefecture mascot statue “Shimaneko”—a Pikachu-esqe cat that wears a crown that resembles the great Izumo Taisha temple and whose name is an amalgam of the word “Shimane” for the home prefecture and “neko” which means “cat” in Japanese. When it came time for us to pass through customs, I explained to Natsuko that I had left final gifts for the family in Daigo’s room but found unraveled and undone. I could barely speak at the thought of leaving my new family. I managed to pull it together before leaving, but that’s probably a gross overstatement for what actually happened.

Once we got past custom and settled in for the long ride home, the images fluttered through my head of Japan as they always had. This time, however, the images were mine and rooted in something real and tangible. I did what I set out to do. I experienced Japan on my own terms and it gave me an immense sense of accomplishment that only rivaled my sense of loss. Firmly fasted in my seat, buckled and eyeing the stewardess for the first round of wine, I looked out of the window and saw something absolutely beautiful and amazing. As the plane built up speed, in the concourse, I saw a myriad of hands waving furiously behind the glass. Like always, they kept doing so. “These people really are too much” I thought to myself. Of course that was after I had stopped waving myself. By then, I was firmly in the air, leaving one home for another.