The Diary of Marcel Winatschek

To the Lighthouse

To the Lighthouse

The lanterns outside Ichinosoko glowed with a soft, amber light, cutting through the early evening haze like scattered fireflies. It was the kind of place you’d pass a hundred times without noticing until someone told you it was worth stepping inside. That someone, in my case, was a group of classmates from Sojo University. After the school festival, they had decided we should celebrate here. Inside, the air was warm, alive with the hum of conversation and the low, melodic clinking of glasses. The aroma of hops blended with the scent of food. I found myself at a long table, surrounded by faces that were both familiar and foreign, a constellation of new friendships still forming.

You don’t drink? someone asked, their tone more curious than judgmental. No, but I’m here for the company. This answer seemed to satisfy them, and soon the table’s attention turned back to ordering. Golden drafts arrived, frothy and luminous, like small suns. I watched as my friends lifted their glasses in a toast, their voices rising together in a symphony of celebration. Kanpai! It wasn’t the beer that mattered. It was the act of sharing, of weaving ourselves into the rhythm of the evening. My oolong tea’s earthy bitterness grounded me, a counterpoint to the effervescence of the room. As I sipped, I thought about how people often seek connection through what they consume.

The conversation ebbed and flowed. Stories about the festival, plans for the weekend, fragments of dreams shared in halting English and Japanese. Outside, the city exhaled softly, the sounds of distant cars and bicycles slipping through the cracks of the night. By the time we left, the lanterns had grown brighter, their glow pooling on the cobblestones like liquid amber. I felt lighter somehow, not because of what I had drunk but because of the time spent together, the threads of connection woven tighter. As we slowly walked to one of Kumamoto’s karaoke clubs, I realized that Ichinosoko wasn’t just a place to drink, it was a place to belong, even if only for an evening.