In early 2026, Naomi returned to Osaka after three years abroad. The city was alive with new things — neon reflections danced on the canal at Dōtonbori, electric scooters hummed beside bicycles, and people gathered in cafés again, laughing after years of distancing. But there were still reminders everywhere of what the world had just lived through.
In university, Naomi met Riku in a psychology seminar called Collective Memory and Human Bonds. They were paired for a project about the long-term effects of the COVID-19 pandemic — not the virus itself, but how people formed bonds during and after it.
On the first day, Riku said, half-joking, “I made more friends in two years of Zoom classes than I ever did in high school.”
Naomi laughed, but her smile was thoughtful. “Because you were together in something,” she said. “Even if it was online.”
Their professor, Dr. Fujimoto — a specialist in social cognition — explained the concept that would shape Naomi and Riku’s friendship:
Enjoyable experiences help form connections, but it’s shared hardship that cements them.
In psychology this is linked to collective emotional memory — when people experience distress simultaneously, they encode those moments deeply, and social bonds formed through them tend to be more resilient.
As part of their project, Naomi and Riku interviewed many classmates. They heard stories like:
• A nursing student who cried beside a patient’s empty bed, then found comfort in the aide who offered tissues.
• A group of international students who missed their families and spent their first holidays in Osaka apartment corridors, teaching each other homemade dishes over video calls.
• A theater club that rehearsed through power outages during typhoons, refusing to cancel performances.
Each story had joy, but all had pain — and it was the pain people remembered most vividly.
One afternoon, while editing their project video, Naomi said quietly, “I remember the fear more than the festivals we had this year. But I also remember who stayed with me.”
Riku nodded. “That’s solidarity, right? Not just having fun together, but surviving hard times together.”
Their final presentation wasn’t just sociological. It was emotional. They weaved in neuroscience research showing how stressful experiences activate the amygdala — the part of the brain that stores emotional memories — making those shared moments more intense than ordinary happy experiences. They explained how that kind of memory can create a form of social glue stronger than casual friendship.
At the end of the semester, Naomi walked home through Osaka Castle Park with Riku. The plum blossoms had just begun to bloom — fragile pink petals that seemed all the more beautiful after winter’s long shadow.
Riku said, “I’m glad we did this together.”
Naomi smiled. “It’s more than a friendship project. It’s part of what we carry now — like everyone else.”
She brushed a petal off his jacket.
They had fun together, yes. But what they truly shared — late nights of conversation, moments of vulnerability, and the awareness of how much the world had changed — was something deeper. Hardship had shaped them, and through it, they found not just friends, but solidarity.
All names of people and organizations appearing in this story are pseudonyms
China pitches closer ties to Germany in strategic industries to ease rare earth strains
Comments