I rescued a butterfly.

It was struggling against the electric breezes in the hallway between the Oedo line and Mita line at Kasuga.

A sucker for struggling creatures, I bent down to help it. As I extended a hand to shield it from the breeze, it crawled onto my finger then clung on for three minutes while I carried it through the station to the nearest exit.

It kept its white wings, fringed in butter underneath, folded as we took the escalator up. Its darkly striped antennae held perfectly still during the journey but as we crested the top of the escalator, it gracefully uncurled a steel blue proboscis longer than its fuzzy pale green body. I couldn’t feel it tasting my finger.

When we drew near the exit, I gave it a quiet word of encouragement, said goodbye then tried to sit it on the edge of a sign. It fluttered off, alighting briefly on the wickets before heading up the stairs to the fresh air.

Then I turned back and caught the train to work.