Map of the Sounds of Tokyo

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Do we have to do this?

Do we really have to?

Eat sushi hot

on the navel of a woman?

If we sign the agreement,

yes, we have to

In short, it would be good to do.

You know you love this place.

They love all that is vulgar and free.

Nevertheless, in spite of the alcohol

carried in my body,

I might as well be at the zoo

eating hot dogs.

We have to fit into the idea

they have of us, Nagara-san.

Within half an hour

they'll be so be drunk

if you go they will not notice.

We'll stay with them.

There must be another way

of doing business.

There is.

But it is not profitable.

Yes? Hello?

Why?

What am I doing here?

Why didn't anyone tell me?

Why?

The smell of this fish

will never go away.

There is no day that does not

recall the breathing of Ryu,

nor a day that does not miss its silence

When I met her she was

called Ryu.

I later learned that she had

other names ...

Keiko, Momoyo, Yuri.

But Ryu, I'm almost certain,

was her real name.

We met

Sunday afternoon

in the Ramen Museum.

I said I liked

the sound it made

to sip the soup

It reminded me of

the way my mother did.

Would you let me record

the sound you make?

It's what I do.

How I make my living.

Really you make a living like that?

Yes

Recorded sounds

for a sound studio,

for radio, television, videos,

sometimes ...

some movies.

So you also record people sniffling?

Of course, I thought,

but that day

we started to be friends.

I did not know

that I would be her only friend.

From that moment

we often met in little

local bars and eateries

near the market where she worked.

One day I asked

why work there.

He said it was the only

that prevented him from thinking too much.

That was

the closest thing to a confidence

I got it.

Most times we only

her company while we ate.

Sometimes, when she was

in a good mood, she let me

record our lengthy conversations

about nothing in particular.

Do you have something to do on Sunday?

On Sunday?

Yes, on Sunday.

Why are you always

making plans?

And why you do not plan ever?

What do you know -

I make plans.

Never tell me none.

Why should I tell you?

She never told me if she was an

only child or had a brother,

if her parents were still alive.

If she had good grades

at school.

If she had read "War and Peace".

If she believed in God or something.

If when she saw an old woman

the street

had she suddenly wondered

how was she at my age.

If she had suffered.

If she was in love.

After a while,

I stopped asking.

Nagara-san ...

Midori also ...

was my life.

Today is kissing day!

A kiss is the best medicine!

Kiss!

Finish!

Some things occured to me.

That I knew she had insomnia.

She was crazy about strawberry

sticky rice cakes.

That she was so brave

but yet feared people.

That she always believed she would die young.

One of the things that we

often did together,

was visiting cemeteries

on Sundays.

I followed her

while she

sought certain tombs

and devoted herself conscientiously

to clean the tombstones.

She never told me

who owned the graves.

I did not ask.

The silence which prevails in

a cemetery in the summer

is unlike any other

silence in the world.

We never interrupted

this silence.

Nagara-san,

Do you want to see the bathroom?

No.

WHY COULDN'T YOU TELL ME HOW MUCH

YOU LOVED ME?

Okay?

I cannot imagine a world

where my daughter is dead

and that man

continues to live.

I find it unbearable,

now she is gone,

the idea that he continue to breathe,

laughing,

eating.

I know I can't do it.

Leave it in my hands.

I'll take care of everything.

She liked music,

but never told me

of any group

or any singer,

or how many versions

of "Someone to Watch Over Me"

she had in her ipod.

I know she went to work

at seven p.m.

and was out to five-thirty

am.

But she knew nothing

that I thought at that time.

She never told me

if at any time

through those long nights, if

at about four o'clock in the morning,

in some strange cold moment,

she felt sick at heart

and did she wonder if it made

sense that she would feel so.

Listening close to her footsteps

and the sound of her breathing

in the solitude of my room

I also wondered.

Hello?

Murakami-san gave me this number.

Yes

I have a photograph and address.

Yes, the first half

in advance.

At seven? Where?

Agreed. I'll be there.

With the first half?

Yes, of course.

Yes

Are we going somewhere else?

Another site? Why?

Excuse me.

- It's my first time ...

- I have the tickets.

Welcome.

Thank you very much.

Is this everything.

The money and information.

Agreed.

Do you not want to know why?

- Well, circumstances.

- Circumstances?

Yes

Why do we want that man ...

I'm not interested in the circumstances.

No?

How would that change things?

Would I work better

if I knew the details?

No.

I guess not.

There's nothing I want to know.

The only thing that interests me

is whether the picture is recent,

if the address is correct

and if the money has been

counted correctly.

I was wrong.

Well.

When?

When will you do the job?

When possible.

Will you tell me when?

And the other half?

I'll call.

Thank you.

Thank you very much.

Welcome.

Welcome.

Can I help?

Pardon?

When did it happen?

When did Ryu begin

to see something special in him?

When he said he knew

what she was looking for?

Or when he said ...

Your money is no good here.

And she felt the heat

of his hand against hers,

which was always cold.

Yes

I wonder what it was that made Ryu

cross the street that night

with a man

whose picture lay in pieces

in her pocket.

Now I know when it was.

It was the first time that

they had laughed together.

That's when it all really began.

You want sticky rice cakes?

Are you sure?

I do not mind

going to buy it for you next door.

Seeing her there so close to me

yet with her thoughts so far

hurt me in a way

difficult to describe.

I never wanted

so desparately

to be somebody else.

Hungry?

What would you like?

Splints hung at the

temple say ...

Give me a son,

a husband,

a bride,

a car, money,

fame, happiness,

health.

None of this appealed to Ryu

that day.

Yoshida-san?

I want to talk with Nagara-san,

if possible.

What happened?

Will he be long in the hospital?

I understand.

Pass on my respects.

Please.

See you soon.

Dad!

Dad!

Dad, look at Midori!

Look at Midori!

Ryu has never told me about

the man,

the man in the wine shop.

But since I knew her

I could see another

sparkle in her eyes.

Only silence

was the same.

We are ignoring

the elephant in the room:

The dollar is in free fall

and the world is collapsing

before our eyes.

We can not ignore

we made a mistake

in commissioning these reports

from an American multinational,

reports which, incidentally,

are obscenely expensive.

I require the board offer

some explanation.

Gondo-san, was at this same table

where, six months ago,

all voted in favor

of the proposal.

The company preparing

the report, Waterholmes

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