A train. It carries people. It operates in a complicated system. It can crash.

A thought. It carries people. It operates in a complicated system. It can crash.

Sitting on a train with just your thoughts, you tend to browse the landscape as if it is a piece of art in a constantly moving gallery. A train ride can give you peace or mayhem, both in one day. It can give you many differing faces that you can mindlessly analyse. Tired faces, excited faces, depressed faces, angry faces. A train ride can give and show you many things. 

They give and show Kichiro many things. 

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Kichiro walks. He jogs. He runs. He cycles occasionally. Today, he stands. The platform is relatively empty. He opens his can of Coke. He sips. He stands some more. He waits.

Cats walk with a swagger that gives them a certain refined aura. But not this cat. A bright orange fat cat lazily trundles towards Kichiro. They glance at each other. They stop. They stand. They wait.

The atmosphere of the platform signifies an approaching train. The platform fills. The chattering is now noticeable to Kichiro despite his earphones blasting out ‘At Last’ by Etta James. He turns down the volume a tad. He is not fazed. The cat is not fazed. They stand. They wait.

A screech. Yes, the train has arrived. Kichiro prepares. The cat moves, the people move, the doors move. Ah look, more people. More people move. Almost time. Almost time. Aaaaaand.....walk.

Kichiro slaloms his way to a carriage. The cat follows. The carriage is almost empty, bar an old woman, a businessman checking his watch and a schoolgirl similar to Kichiro’s age.

Kichiro looks. The cat looks. The girl stands, clutching both of her bag straps. Kichiro looks, for a bit longer this time. Shes in a black winter jacket with her hood up. He looks again. His heart thuds as he sees her face. Deep brown eyes. Soft, red cheeks. A small smile on her face. She looks his way. He quickly looks at the cat. He fiddles with his phone case. His eyes dance around thier sockets. He sweats.

Is Kichiro going to approach the girl? Never in a million years. Is it because she's so mind-blowingly stunning? Shes above average at best. Then why? He can’t. Why can't he? He can't.

The train shunts to a halt. Kichiro watches the girl tip toe out the train. "Cute", he thinks. He blushes.

He sits and lets out a breath. He made it without a single direct social interaction. However, the eye contact with the girl. Not good, not good at all. It plays on his mind even though nothing happened. 

In the train, his thoughts...train. Kichiro is no sex symbol. He has never had a girlfriend. He is slightly chubby. He is usually sweaty. He is shy. Despite all this, he is relativley cute. He has sweeping brown hair, freckles on his nose and under his eyes, a small mouth and nose. If you saw him in the street, you'd go, "He's kinda cute" and then continue on with your day. He's that type of boy. You won't remember him.

So why is he stressing over a girl who he hasn’t even talked too? Who he simply looked at whilst she happened to look in his direction? Wait, was she even looking at him? No, it must be something behind him. Maybe there was a billboard of a new anime, or an alien abduction happening right in front of her eyes. Yeah, that must've been it.

He turns on his phone. Time for a new song.