seinfeld Reunion Trip to Japan - humorous fiction

Kramer Hits His Head in Every Temple in Kyoto

Kramer had exactly three goals for his day in Kyoto.

Visit beautiful temples.

Take incredible photos.

Avoid looking like an obvious tourist.

By 9:17 a.m., he had failed all three.

The first temple greeted visitors with a magnificent wooden gate that had stood for centuries.

Kramer admired the craftsmanship.

“The carpenters who built this were geni—”

THUNK.

His forehead collided with the beam so loudly that two pigeons took off into the sky.

A nearby Japanese grandmother looked at him.

Not with concern.

With the expression of someone who had just watched the weather do exactly what the forecast predicted.

Kramer rubbed his forehead.

“I was just… checking the structural integrity.”

The gate, having survived wars, earthquakes, and hundreds of years of history, remained completely unimpressed.

At the second temple, Kramer learned from his mistake.

This time, he ducked.

Very confidently.

He sailed beneath the entrance without incident.

“Ha!” he whispered.

“I’ve adapted.”

Feeling victorious, he immediately stood up.

THUNK.

The exit beam was lower.

A monk sweeping leaves paused for exactly one second.

“You are very tall.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Temple number three was different.

Kramer approached cautiously.

He bent his knees.

He leaned forward.

He even placed one hand over his forehead like a football player protecting the ball.

He made it through.

Success.

He smiled proudly.

Then he backed up to take a photograph.

THUNK.

He had forgotten about the beam behind him.

A group of schoolchildren gasped.

One little boy quietly asked his teacher,

“Is he doing that on purpose?”

The teacher considered it.

“…I don’t think so.”

By lunchtime, Kramer had developed a reputation.

He didn’t know it.

But somehow, the temple staff did.

At the next temple, a volunteer saw Kramer approaching from nearly fifty meters away.

Without saying a word, she simply pointed upward.

Kramer nodded.

“I appreciate that.”

He ducked.

Made it through perfectly.

Then turned to thank her.

THUNK.

A decorative lantern.

She sighed.

“I tried.”

Kramer stopped for lunch.

The restaurant owner noticed the growing red bump on his forehead.

“Long morning?”

“You could say that.”

“Hiking?”

“No.”

“Cycling?”

“No.”

The owner studied Kramer.

“…Temples?”

Kramer blinked.

“How did you know?”

The owner laughed so hard he nearly dropped the teapot.

After lunch, Kramer became determined.

“No more.”

He opened the notes app on his phone.

At the top, he wrote:

THINGS TO REMEMBER

1. Look up.

2. Duck.

3. Stay ducked.

He read it before entering the next temple.

Everything went perfectly.

He entered.

Walked around peacefully.

Admired the gardens.

Listened to birds singing.

He began thinking perhaps his streak had finally ended.

As he left, he pulled out his phone to check directions.

Without looking…

THUNK.

This time the sound echoed beautifully through the courtyard.

Even Kramer had to laugh.

“That one’s on me.”

Late in the afternoon, he wandered into a quiet temple far from the crowds.

There were only a handful of visitors.

An elderly gardener was trimming moss with tiny scissors.

Kramer slowed down.

He carefully admired every wooden beam.

Every doorway.

Every roofline.

The gardener watched with amusement.

“You’ve been learning.”

“I’ve been trying.”

“You’ve also been hitting your head.”

“News travels fast.”

The gardener smiled.

“In Kyoto… everything travels slowly.”

Kramer wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but it sounded wise enough to nod at.

As the sun began to set, Kramer reached his final temple of the day.

“This is it,” he said.

“The last chance for victory.”

He crouched almost ridiculously low.

People behind him wondered if he was practicing for a limbo competition.

Step by careful step, he crossed the entrance.

No collision.

He looked around triumphantly.

“I did it!”

A tourist applauded.

Kramer took a theatrical bow.

And gently…

ever so gently…

tapped his forehead against the low wooden donation box.

Not enough to hurt.

Just enough for the unmistakable little…

Tok.

Kramer stared at the donation box.

The donation box, naturally, said nothing.

The tourist burst out laughing.

Kramer couldn’t help laughing too.

On the train back to Osaka, Kramer counted the bumps on his forehead.

“Seven.”

Not exactly the souvenir he’d imagined bringing home.

But then he looked through the hundreds of photos he’d taken that day.

Golden temples glowing in the afternoon sun.

Quiet bamboo groves.

Stone pathways winding through ancient gardens.

Tiny teahouses hidden behind maple trees.

Monks sweeping fallen leaves.

And one very memorable collection of low wooden beams.

He smiled.

“Kyoto,” he said to himself, “has a funny way of making sure you never forget your visit.”

Some people leave Kyoto with postcards.

Some leave with matcha.

Kramer left with unforgettable memories…

…and a strong appreciation for ducking.

TEMPTED TO SEE JAPAN DIFFERENTLY?