One warm July day, Kenji Matsumoto took the train to Kanazawa and walked to his favourite place in the world, Kenroku-en Garden. It was late in the afternoon, and many of the visitors there had started to leave. In his beloved blue backpack were Kenji's art supplies.

Kenji had been sent to stay the summer with his uncle in Tokyo. It had been over dinner one night in March that his mother told him he would be staying with his uncle.

"It will do you some good," she had said.

"Your mother is right," chimed in his father, who always agreed with Kenji's mother.

Kenji had no choice but to go.

Kenji took a seat beneath an old tree. He took out his art supplies and began to draw. He drew and drew. All the while, the orange sun was setting on the horizon. Before he knew it, the sky was a dark blue with only a hint of the sun that was setting. Kenji knew that the train home would be arriving at the station soon, and he hurried to catch the train.

He arrived at the station just in time. Remembering that he would need to have his ticket handy, Kenji reached around to his back to grab his backpack, but all he felt was air. Nothing! Where was his backpack?

Then it dawned on him. He had left it beneath the tree in Kenroku-en Garden!

Running as fast as his legs could carry him, Kenji sped back to the park. Under the try was his backpack.

"How could I have forgotten it?" he wondered to himself.

He picked up the bag, placed it on his slender back, and high-tailed it back to the station.

The train was still there.

"Phew!" Kenji sighed.

He stepped onto the train and took a seat beside a window.

His eyelids grew heavy. His mind and body were exhausted. He knew he shouldn't fall asleep because he could miss his stop. He just could not help it. He drifted off to sleep with dreams of his parents and uncle racing through his head.

The train came to a halt. Kenji woke up. He knew his stop was the final one. The train must be at his stop, as it was so late. Kenji exited the train, anxiously awaiting the comfortable bed he had at his uncle's house.

When he looked around more carefully, he realised something was indeed very wrong. The station looked unfamiliar. It was not the station he was supposed to be in!

Kenji walked out onto the street and found himself surrounded by tall buildings. Many of them had bright neon lights. The people on the street were just as colourful. Most of them were fashionably dressed. The women had on gorgeous makeup. Some of the men were dressed in outfits that looked like they came straight out of a rock 'n' roll music video. They were different than the people Kenji was used to seeing in his everyday life. These people wore what they wanted, what was cool and pretty. The men could even get away with putting on some makeup!

The fear and anxiety Kenji had originally felt was giving way to fascination and curiosity.

He walked up and down the streets, gazing in the shop windows, thinking of how badly he wanted to wear those outrageous clothes some day. He got up enough courage to go into one of the stores that carried the extravagant clothing.

He browsed through racks and racks of fabulous items. He held the clothing to his face and breathed in the fresh scent. He ran his fingers along the textures - silk, leather, pleather, cotton, vinyl, you-name-it.

He picked up a shiny pink vest and sniffed it with his nose.

"Excuse me, young man?" a gruff voice called to him from behind.

Kenji turned and saw a tall, broad-shouldered store employee staring down at him.

"I think you are in the wrong department," the employee spoke. "This is the women's section."

Kenji, utterly embarrassed, dropped the vest and ran to the closest men's bathroom, where he hid in one of the unoccupied stalls. He waited until the occupants in the stalls on either side of him had left before he emerged.

Looking in the mirror, he did not recognise his own face. His eyes were wide and had dark circles around them. His lips and cheeks were pale. And then, another image appeared in the mirror. It was another person's reflection.

He turned and found out who that reflection belonged to.

The young man, who could not have been more than twenty-three years old, had dyed blonde choppy hair and unnatural blue eyes. His lower lip was pierced with a chain running from that ring to a ring embedded in his ear. He wore a sleeveless white shirt with the word "immortal" printed in kanji on it. Cascading down the stranger's arms were tattoos in both kanji and English. He even had tattoos on his fingers, which were long and thin.

Kenji was startled by the sudden appearance of the stranger that he let out a small gasp.

"What's the matter, kid?" the stranger questioned him. "Haven't you ever seen body art before?"

Kenji wasn't sure how he should respond. He thought of making a move toward the door.

"What is a kid like you doing out late at night? Are your parents out there shopping?"

"No. I... I got lost," Kenji muttered.

"How'd you get lost?"

Kenji broke down and told the stranger the story of how he left his backpack at the garden and wound up getting on the wrong train.

"So where am I exactly?" Kenji asked.

"Shinjuku is where you're at. Best city if you're looking to be fashionable."

"The clothing is beautiful. I wish I could afford it."

"Yeah, it's expensive. Of course, all the Japanese rockers can afford it. Some of them even make clothing."

"Are you a jrocker?"

The stranger let out a laugh that sounded more like a dog barking. It reminded Kenji of his own laughter. "You don't recognise me?"

Kenji shook his head no.

"My name is Jun. I'm a guitarist." He pointed to a black guitar case propped up against the wall. "You ever play guitar?"

"My dad has a guitar, but he won't let me play it. I like to draw."

"Listen, kid, do you want me to help you get home? I don't have a car, but I can get us a ride there. I'll go with you and make sure you get there safely."

Should I trust him? Kenji thought. He seems pretty harmless...

"Kid, I'm harmless. You can trust me," Jun said, as if he had been reading Kenji's mind.