My name is Hikari Mayumi. "Hikari" means light, and "Mayumi" stands for truth and beauty. My parents chose this name with care, hoping it would reflect the kind of person I'd grow up to be. I just graduated high school, and right now, I'm anxiously awaiting a response from my dream school—The University of Campbell.
I have a younger sister named Hanabi. She's just a typical high school girl with a sharp tongue and an even sharper sense of curiosity. We grew up in a quaint little town called Hiraizumi, tucked away in the northern Iwate Prefecture. With a population barely reaching 7,500, it's one of the smallest towns in Japan. But what it lacks in size, it makes up for in soul. A Buddhist monk once called it the "Pure Land," and standing at the edge of its tranquil lakes or beneath the fiery hues of autumn leaves, it's easy to understand why.
Though we live in Japan, we're not Japanese by blood. My parents are from Malaysia. They fell in love with this country years ago and decided to build their life here. That makes me Malaysian too, though I can hardly speak my native language fluently. It never bothered us much—we had our own rhythm, our own way of being at home in the world.
Since I was little, I've dreamed of traveling—to go beyond the edges of familiarity and discover the unknown. Maybe I got that from my parents. The wanderlust in my veins feels inherited, a legacy passed down through generations of quiet adventurers.
I want to travel the world, immerse myself in new cultures, and maybe one day, write it all down. But before that, I need to start from zero. Step one: get into Campbell University and become the best student I can be.
This morning, the email finally arrived.
"Nee-san, you've got mail from Campbell University. Aren't you going to open it?" Hanabi called out, her eyes glued to my laptop screen.
"Don't you dare open it!" I yelled from the bathroom, my voice echoing with panic. My heart thudded in my chest like a wild drum. I leapt out of the tub, wrapping a towel around myself, and rushed to the door.
But it was too late.
Hanabi was already reading the email. Her eyes widened, and her face lit up like a sparkler.
"YOU GOT IN!!" she screamed.
My breath caught. I snatched the laptop from her and read the words for myself. I couldn't believe it. I looked up at Hanabi—she was already grinning like a lunatic.
Then we both exploded into laughter and screams, jumping up and down in pure joy. I grabbed her hand, and we dashed downstairs, shouting for our parents.
"Mom! Dad! I got in! I got into Campbell!!"
My mother rushed in and wrapped her arms around me. "Congratulations, Hikari!!" she beamed, her voice cracking with emotion. There's a wild spark in her that I definitely inherited.
We were still celebrating when Dad came home from work, setting his bag down and blinking in confusion.
"What's going on in here?" he asked.
"I GOT INTO CAMPBELL!" I cried, throwing myself into his arms.
For a moment, he just stood there, stunned. Then his face softened into a proud smile—and to my surprise, his eyes glistened with tears.
"We should celebrate!" he declared. "Let's have a hotpot dinner. And something expensive—we're going all out tonight!"
Later, dressed in our best clothes, we headed to our favorite family restaurant. The food sizzled in the hotpot, and the laughter around the table warmed my chest.
"So," Dad said, raising his beer, "what's your plan during your free time before the semester starts?"
"I want to find a part-time job. Maybe work somewhere flexible so I can enjoy my youth a little before the heavy workload hits," I replied, already calculating tuition and rent in my head.
"Good thinking," Dad nodded. "You'll need to be independent once university starts. I've got a little savings set aside for you and Hanabi, just in case."
"But, Dad… you don't have to do that. I'll manage." I hesitated, thinking about how hard they'd worked. I didn't want to be a burden.
He smiled, gripping my hand. "We're your parents. Just focus on your studies. If you need help, we'll be there."
"This hotpot is amazing!" Hanabi moaned, already on her second helping.
"Don't eat too much, Hanabi, or you'll get chubby," Mom teased, dropping vegetables into her bowl.
"Let her eat," I said with a laugh. "If she gains weight, she'll have to deal with it, not us."
"It's not fair!" Hanabi cried, cheeks stuffed, making us all laugh even harder.
Between bites, I brought up apartment hunting and part-time jobs.
"There's a girl at Campbell—my friend's sister—who works at the campus library," Hanabi said. "Good pay, and they hire students."
"She still studies there?"
"Yeah, majoring in Art History. That's why she chose a quiet job like that."
"Do you think you can get me her number?"
Hanabi pulled out her phone and within minutes, I had a number in hand. I texted her that night, introducing myself and asking if the library had any openings.
As the night came to a close, we headed home with full stomachs and fuller hearts.
Back in my room, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The noise of the celebration still echoed in my head.
My life as a Campbell student begins now.
And I was ready for it.