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A smiling Mom with long black hair holding a newborn wrapped in a blanket, with a young Sister holding a tiny cat plushie beside her. A hospital room with a window showing city noise outside.
The day I was born, Dad captured the city noise outside our hospital window with his iPhone. Mom laughed through tears, her long black hair falling around her face. My sister, only eight years old then, held a tiny cat plushie close to my blanket.
A giggling toddler taking first steps across an apartment floor, with a spilled water bowl and a fluffy Manx cat with gray, black and white stripes nearby. A smiling Mom cleaning up while Dad records with a phone.
At one, I took my first wobbly steps across our apartment floor, knocking over Tokyo's water bowl. Tokyo, our fluffy Manx with gray, black and white stripes, meowed in protest. Mom quickly cleaned up while Dad recorded everything, laughing. My sister joked we were 'twins born eight years apart' as she helped me stand again.
A proud Mom displaying a blurry photo on a fridge, with a young child holding a camera. Dad's hands gently guiding the child's hands on the camera.
I found Dad's camera when I was four and snapped a blurry shot of the street below our window. Mom proudly displayed it on our fridge, calling it the first sign of my 'eye.' Dad showed me how to hold the camera properly, his hands steady over mine.
A lively kitchen scene with Dad preparing sushi, a fluffy Manx cat darting between legs, and Sister showing a child how to roll maki. Mom cooking rice nearby.
Every Sunday, our kitchen transformed into a sushi-making zone with Dad leading the way. Tokyo would dart between our legs, hoping for a fallen piece. Sister taught me to roll the perfect maki while Mom prepared the rice. Inside our apartment, it was just us, sushi, and laughter.
A child reading a book about Japan on a rooftop, with a fluffy Manx cat watching birds. A city skyline in the background.
By age seven, I loved reading about faraway places, especially Japan. Tokyo and I spent weekends on the rooftop, me reading while she watched birds. I'd bring Dad's old camera up to capture the skyline. Sister would sometimes join us, bringing snacks and stories about her school.
Bedroom walls filled with photos of a fluffy Manx cat, Sister dancing, and city lights at dusk. A child holding a camera, with Mom and Dad smiling proudly.
My bedroom walls became a gallery of photos—Tokyo basking in sunlight, Sister dancing, city lights at dusk. Mom and Dad called me 'our little storyteller' and gifted me my first camera on my ninth birthday. I spent hours learning about photography from library books.
A photo of a fluffy Manx cat silhouetted against a city skyline. A child holding a camera, with a family celebrating with sushi and cupcakes.
At ten, I entered a youth photo contest with a shot of Tokyo silhouetted against the city skyline. Though I didn't win, the judges' encouragement made my heart soar. We celebrated with homemade sushi and cupcakes that night.
A fluffy Manx cat basking in a sunny spot, with a scrapbook of memories open nearby. A busy city visible through the window.
Tokyo brought calm to our busy city life, always finding the sunniest spots in our apartment. Sister and I created a scrapbook of memories with her, spanning eleven years. Despite the constant noise outside, I found tranquility through my viewfinder.
A child scrolling through photos of Japan on a computer, with Dad teaching Japanese phrases. Mom watching documentaries on a TV screen.
At twelve, I spent hours scrolling through photos of Japan, imagining capturing its beauty someday. Dad noticed and started teaching me Japanese phrases on weekend mornings. Mom found documentaries about Japanese photography we watched together.
An art show display with a photo series titled 'Urban Stories' featuring a fluffy Manx cat. Sister helping to mount photos, with Mom and Dad preparing snacks.
For my middle school art show, I created a photo series called 'Urban Stories' about finding quiet in city chaos. Tokyo featured prominently, always peaceful despite the noise. Sister helped me mount the photos while Mom and Dad prepared snacks for the opening.
A video call on a laptop screen with Sister and a child comparing photos. A fluffy Manx cat purring beside the laptop.
When Sister left for college at fourteen, she gave me her old photography books. We video-called weekly, comparing photos and techniques. Tokyo would purr whenever she heard Sister's voice through the speaker.
A child holding a new camera wrapped in cherry blossom paper, with a note saying 'Keep capturing what matters.' Mom, Dad, Sister, and a fluffy Manx cat posing for a photo.
On my fifteenth birthday, I found a new camera wrapped in cherry blossom paper. Inside was a note from my family: 'Keep capturing what matters.' I snapped a photo of Mom, Dad, and Sister with Tokyo curled contentedly in the middle. Later, I sat by the window, dreaming of Japan through my new lens.