Her mother had cried. “Too dangerous.” Her friends had laughed. “Who travels alone? That’s sad.” But Jia had just smiled, a small, secret curve of her lips. She wanted to find out who she was without the echo of someone else’s opinion.
In Tokyo, she stood outside a ramen shop, paralyzed. The line was full of couples and laughing groups. Her stomach growled. She almost turned away. But then she remembered: No one is watching. No one cares. She walked in, sat at the counter, and ate the richest tonkotsu ramen of her life. The silence was loud, but not uncomfortable. It was just... hers. jia lissa travelling alone
On the third day, she got lost in the bamboo groves of Arashiyama. Her phone had died. For a panicked minute, her heart raced. She was a speck in a green, whispering forest. But then she stopped. She listened to the creak of the ancient stalks, the hush of the wind. She found her way out using the sun, a skill she didn’t know she had. Her mother had cried