On the train, Tiffany sneezed. And not one of those girly sneezes that squeak like a broken baby doll, no. It was one of those huge sneezes that only Americans seem to make, when your entire body spasms and the "chu" sound is so loud you can feel it throughout your entire body.
Of course, on a manin-densha, it's not as if you can move away from any sick people. Everyone's hot, sticky bodies are pressed up against eachother worse than any rave I've ever been to. Heck, a manindensha is normally hotter than a rave because raves don't have the sun's heat blaring down (you know, considering they take place at night).
But anyway, Tiffany sneezed and I could feel the weight of the Japanese people trying to scootch as far away as possible from us, giving us what we like to call a foreigner bubble. Now that my arm actually had aenough room to bend, I highfived her hand (the one that she didn't sneeze into, because that would be gross). But since I had room to move, that meant I had room to study, and I had sworn to myself the previous night that I'd study on the train. UGG.
I slowly leaned towards my backpack which was resting on the ground where I'd thrown it earlier. I hoped that people would start filling in the foreigner bubble now that the train screeched to a halt at another stop, but no. The Japanese were so germ (and/or foreigner) phobic that they scrunched themselves as small as they could away from us (which, like I said, was only a few inches). I unfortunately slid my notecards out of the outer pocket and flipped through them.
Okay, gamansuru, to be patient, check. chikara, strength, check. tanmono, fabric, check. inochi.... inochi... FUCK.
Tiffany turned towards me, rolling her eyes at my antics. In our short month of knowing each other, we became really close friends, and she knew exactly what happened. In her voice which was subdued by some sickness (which I later found out was bronchitis), she whispered, "You fell asleep studying again, didn't you?"
Seeing my awkward grin signifying that she hit the nail on the head, Tiffany sighed.
This was written in ~15 minutes by hand in my Creative Writing class. I was happy about it. ^_^ (with minor edits in the typed version, of course).
My creative non-fiction. No, nothing exactly like this happened in Japan, but it sounds EXACTLY like something we'd do. We did ride on trains where people gave us foreigner AND sick bubbles, I fell asleep studying.... a lot. And she was sick, like, half the time.