The neon light seems a bit off, but somehow it’s exactly how I pictured it in my dreams. The night is quiet and the streets are almost empty.

It has been a long day. A morning shift at a small coffee shop in Asakusa, school in Akihabara, then finally boxing back in Chiba. It’s been a while since I last sparred and stepped into the ring, but it truly felt so good to be back. And now, wandering through the night, just next to the train station, I stop to admire the 7-Eleven.

What time is it? It could be any time between 22:00 and 02:55. A nice hot coffee, a can of Monster Energy and a Snickers. I know, it’s not exactly the best thing to have before going to sleep, but who is trying to sleep here?

I sit on a bench and just think about my present. I used to dream about this moment.

I remember the nights in Bangor and Milan, listening to lo-fi and dreaming about living in Japan. Maybe joining a boxing gym near the train station, just like in Hajime no Ippo, and watching the trains pass while holding a can of coffee, just like in Shenmue. It really feels like a fever dream.

Sometimes I get scared about the future, that’s true. Leaving my job in Milan—a real job as a journalist—was a bold choice nonetheless. However, when I’m sitting on this bench, looking at the 7-Eleven, listening to lo-fi and feeling, if only for a moment, like I have finally become the person I wanted to be, somehow I feel okay with myself.

And it makes me think about how unpredictable life can really be. All those days doubting myself, wondering whether I was worth anything after all the trauma I had to experience, seeking comfort in stories like Berserk and Vagabond just to find some peace within myself… All of that somehow led me here.

In a way, I am starting my life all over again.

I am back to step one. After Ostia (not by choice), London, Bangor, Milan… now I am finally where I always planned to be. And that’s where the trouble lies, I guess.

The strange thing is that my problems no longer exist in the present. They only exist in the past. I am always trying to make peace with something that has already happened and cannot be resolved.

I used to think a high-paying job would solve everything. It didn’t. Maybe if I become a writer, everything will make sense. Maybe if I have the power to knock someone out, I’ll finally be okay with myself. Or maybe, if I move to Japan, everything will make sense.

That’s hard to say.

As Christopher Moltisanti says in The Sopranos, “There is no chemical solution for a spiritual problem.” Maybe that’s true. But right now, even after everything that has happened to me, I feel like there is still light and hope in this world. In the end, just like Guts from Berserk says, the winner is the last man standing.

Still here.