Walking through Shinjuku with some random date, talking about the weather and making plans.
Being far, far away, not here, not there.
And hearing over a sendensha's loudspeaker, in broken Japanese, someone screaming hello.
"My name is Alberto Fujimori. Thank you for your hospitality."
Feeling weak to the knees, not knowing what to do or say, feeling flustered.
Wanting to scream to the world: This man is a murderer, do not believe what he says. He does not deserve your hospitality nor understanding.
Feeling powerless, embarrassed by this sheer abuse, sensing my racing pulse and a stream of tears coming up.
Turning around, clearing my throat and saying "I'm sorry, I think I need a drink."