After trekking around Shibuya and Harajuku all day, we headed to the airport on the airport limo (bus). Kevin and I decided that we would pay to upgrade our seats to have more leg room, mostly for him because he is tall. It was an additional $100 per person, but we paid that for comfort. These ended up being exit row seats, and we fervently told the girl at the counter that we were willing and able to help. I was extremely grateful that I had packed some things to freshen up with, like antiperspirant wipes, dry shampoo, and face wipes. I felt way better than I did the last time, albeit a little gross. 

Across of our seat is a seat for the flight attendants to strap into for take off and landing. Our flight attendant came over and immediately starting chatting with us about TSA, as we mentioned that Kevin worked there. After chatting for a while the flight attendant left, but then came back because she totally forgot to instruct us on the emergency door. lol 

So after we took off, we had a snack of a musubi you assemble yourself, the same as the last time. After we ate, Kevin and I immediately fell asleep. I popped in my ear plugs, put on my sleep mask, inflated my lumbar support and bundled up in a blanket. Pro tip: exit row seats are the coldest seats on the airplane (according to the flight attendant). Bring a sweater or something. 

When we woke up again, it was five hours later and time for another meal. We were both shocked that we fell asleep, because neither of us are usually able to sleep on airplanes. The flight attendant had told us that the loco moco was the best meal ever, so I was excited to try it. And I tell you what, she was right. It was pretty dang delicious for airplane food. I also decided to have an apple juice, which is unusual because I rarely drink apple juice. I just felt like something sweet. But this decision would change my life. 

When the flight attendant handed it to me, I was shocked to see that it was murky. Since when is apple juice murky? It was also not apple juice colored. You know, that pretty amber color that Martinelli's is. But I shrugged and took a sip, and my mind exploded.

Murky like this. I don't know if this is the one. I'll never know.

It was like biting into a fresh apple. That's exactly what this apple juice tasted like. I drank it down, and I wondered to myself, "Is this what apple juice is supposed to taste like? Have I been drinking the wrong apple juice all this time?" I began to have an existential crisis. All my life, I've been drinking sub-par apple juice. How could I ever go back to that, after this? Kevin told me to calm down.

When they came back with the carts again, I asked for another apple juice. The girl said she didn't have the Japanese apple juice, but it was on the other cart and she went to get it. So she gave me a cup, and not too long after that the nice flight attendant came by and topped me off. Then, she poured me a second cup! She said she'd like to leave me the box, but there would be a riot on the plane. So there I was, double-fisting my apple juice. 

Later, she came back and asked if I had a water bottle, because she and all the other flight attendants fill their bottles with that juice. She was super nice. The flight attendant said that they only have that apple juice at Haneda, Narita does not have it.  

Alas, I can never drink apple juice again, and I will never have that particular apple juice again, unless I go back to Japan on Hawaiian Airlines. I wish you guys could understand the effect that this has had on my life. If you are ever on Hawaiian Airlines to Japan, ask for the Japanese apple juice. Your life will never be the same.