The deposition wrapped up two hours early, which in most cities means an early dinner and an early night. In Tokyo, it meant I had an entire evening to spend in a city I had only ever seen from a conference room window.
I ended up in Shimokitazawa, a neighborhood of vintage shops and tiny bars that felt like the opposite of the glass tower I had spent the day in, and ate ramen standing at a counter next to a stranger who gave me excellent, unsolicited advice about which shrine to visit at sunrise.
I took the advice. The shrine at sunrise was empty except for two elderly women sweeping the steps, and it was, without argument, the best hour of the entire trip, work or otherwise.
Sometimes the best travel happens entirely by accident, wedged into the gaps of a trip that was never supposed to be a vacation in the first place.