Last weekend, my husband and I slipped into a small local theatre to watch Rental Family, Brendan Fraser’s latest film. We expected an evening of entertainment, but what we got was something far deeper: a quiet, emotional journey that stirred memories of our life in Japan.

From the opening scenes, the film transported me back to Tokyo: the neon glow, the hum of trains, the comforting sight of steaming bowls of food. It wasn’t just cinematic nostalgia, it was personal. I found myself remembering the taste of oden on a cold night, the rhythm of city streets, and the warmth of conversations that made Japan feel like home.

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There’s a kind of quiet that settles in when you live abroad. Not silence exactly—Tokyo is anything but quiet—but something internal. A stillness. A pause. I felt it often when I lived there. It wasn’t loneliness, not really. More like a soft ache. A kind of melancholia that comes from being somewhere that doesn’t quite belong to you, and yet somehow feels like home.

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