When I came to, I was sitting in a coffee shop filled with the rich aroma of coffee. Across from me sat a slender man with sharp features and a large pair of black-rimmed glasses.
Let’s see… For a split second, I had absolutely no idea where I was, or who the man in front of me was.
This sort of thing happens to me sometimes when I get too deep into thought. I immediately scanned the room, gave my sleeping memory banks a sharp kick, and took stock of the situation.
I was on the first floor of the Jinbocho Mitsui Building, inside a Tully’s Coffee. And the man sitting opposite me was an up-and-coming musician who lived in Azabu-Juban.
“Thank you,” he said. “You always do great work.”
The musician—a man named Origami—took off his glasses and lightly pinched the bridge of his nose.
“To tell you the truth, I haven’t been sleeping much lately. I’m being chased by deadlines every single day. Those things have about a hundred legs, you know, and they run after me at a terrifying speed.”
I responded with a dry, emotionless laugh. Not even five percent of my memory had returned yet.
“By the way,” Origami continued, “since we probably won’t see each other for a while, there’s something I should tell you.”
He paused for a moment, then went on.
“Right now, you’re standing on the edge of a lot of things. Right on the very brink. From here on out, you might lose your footing and get dragged down into a terrible darkness. I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to go down there, grab your arm, and pull you back up. It’s a place I’m not permitted to enter. You could call it ‘your place.’ At the bottom of that pitch-black ravine, there’s a simple bed. A single spotlight shines down on it. And lying there on that bed, you are completely paralyzed.”
He stopped and stared straight into my eyes.
“Countless slimy, creepy hands emerge from the darkness, trying to violate you. ‘This is it, I’m finished!’ The moment you think that, you wake up. But when you do, you find yourself right here in the Jinbocho Tully’s, sitting across from me.”
Origami pulled a small sketchbook and a permanent marker from the black bag beside him.
“All right, let me explain,” he said. “Let’s call this Point A, and this Point B.”
He drew two circles in the sketchbook, labeling them A and B.
“Normally, you would go straight from A to B. But it looks like you’re stuck right in the middle of Point A and Point B.”
He continued, tracing a squiggly line with the marker.
“Maybe the magnetic field is distorted. Instead of a straight line, you head toward Point B but get pulled back toward Point A, passing ten thousand meters above it. Down below, a polar bear might be eating the aurora borealis. An Inuit and a seal might be dancing a cheerful dance together. But one way or another, you eventually make it to Point B.”
Origami closed the sketchbook and gave me a mischievous smile.
“When that time comes, you and I might be very far apart. But don’t worry. The pink bunny girls will be on our side. I always feed them white carrots.”
He stood up. “Well, I should be going now. I wish you luck.”
He gave my shoulder a light pat, then walked out of the shop with a graceful stride.
