Alecia woke on a pale, quiet morning in her apartment. The curtains were thin white gauze, and the early winter sun cast soft shapes on the floor. She didn’t reach for her phone right away—there were no startling messages, no demands waiting. Instead, she took a moment to lie still, pressing her fingers gently against the folded sheet, feeling the slow exhale of her breath.

For weeks she’d scrolled through short videos of how beautiful Kyoto was, with crimson maple trees ...