Five months. It's not half a year; it's an entire lifetime I left in Chofu. As I packed my suitcase, I realized I wasn't just taking memories, but a new way of perceiving the world. Japan broke me to better rebuild me. It broke my European certainties, my vegetarian comfort, my relationship with time and communication.
I leave with this certainty: we can understand each other without sharing the same grammar. We can be alone among millions of people without ever being isolated. We can find peace in a Konbini cake at 4 AM or in the worried look of a colleague who doesn't want to leave.
Sayonara, Chofu. You gave me eczema, heat, and frustration, but you also gave me the key to a universal language—that of silent empathy and permanent adaptation. It wasn't an internship; it was an initiation. I am no longer the engineer who arrived here; I am someone who now knows that true harmony is found in the acceptance of the unforeseen.