NORIKOīS DINNER TABLE
December 2001
I tore off a thread that was dangling from my coat.
I had run away from home.
I arrived at Tokyo Station.
Female, age 17.
Just a kid. That was me.
I carried my big bag pretending I had just returned from a trip.
Walked to Ginza.
It was right before Christmas.
Bright with neon lights.
Everyone was better dressed than me, and looked cool.
NORIKO
I had a father, a mother, and a sister named Yuka.
Iīm done.
Eat, Noriko.
When she has a problem, she canīt think of anything else.
I was 17. Junior in high school. Always fighting with my father about college.
He wanted me to go to a local university, but I didnīt want to.
I knew it would be boring.
I wouldnīt find a boyfriend or even a friend there.
He peeled a tangerine and put the peel in the ashtray.
Boys in Tokyo are worthless. . . and. . .
He hesitated to say.
But I knew. My cousins.
Sato and Kei got pregnant while studying in Tokyo.
Taeko? Hello.
Sato and Kei just came by.
Dad thought, girls go to Tokyo, get pregnant.
Boys are trouble. . .
I watched the neatly folded peel in the ashtray slowly return to it's original shape.
Tangerine, tangerine. . .
Orange-colored tangerine.
I had a friend named Tangerine in elementary school.
I thought people called her that because her cheeks were orange.
I had thought that. . . But I was wrong.
One day, when I was with Yuka, someone stopped me on the street.
Norippe? Remember me?
Itīs me. Tangerine.
I didnīt recognize her at first. Tangerine, age 17.
Whatīs up, Norippe?
No one called me that anymore. My nameīs Noriko.
Do you know which school this uniform is from?
Her uniform?
You have no idea, right? īCause itīs my costume, actually.
It wasnīt her school uniform.
She said that after junior high. . .
. . . she began working at an "image club" dressing up and doing erotic things.
I īm handing out packets of tissues for work. Here.
Iīve heard of this place. The "All-Girl Fantasy School," right?
Thatīs the schooll I go to now. And this is my route there.
That was the day I found out why she was called Tangerine.
Okay, class. Who do you admire?
Mom and Dad.
In 2nd grade, the teacher asked, "Who do you admire?"
Tangerine.
Thatīs how I got my nickname. You didnīt know?
No.
I donīt know why I said that. Maybe I really liked tangerines.
She laughed loudly. She looked happy.
Gotta go to work.
Nice seeing you.
Bye.
I still love tangerines.
She waved goodbye and left.
On our way home, Yuka and I talked about our lives.
I was shocked that Tangerine already had a job.
I admire Tangerine. Sheīs independent.
So am I.
You donīt understand.
What?
Life as a woman. Tangerine is really living.
All I did was skip class and read novels intended for adult women.
Tangerine was so inspiring to me.
Idiot.
Yuka called me an idiot.
Sheīs a whore.
You donīt even like being a woman. You wish you were a man.
All Iīm saying is, sheīs mature.
Are you saying that īcause Dad is always telling you to grow up?
Gotta go. Bye.
Adults. . .
My father was an adult. . .
He was a reporter for a local newspaper called the Tiny Tokai Times.
It didnīt matter if there was a war abroad or massive earthquake
Come here!
Yeah, Iīm coming.
- It was a deer? - Yes.
they only reported local news. . . Wild deer destroyed the rice field.
Ah, but today is a wonderful day.
"Deer Rampage Continues"
Trivial, local news.
"Shoppers Galore"
Great. Look this way. Okay, cheese.
"Cactus Park Breaks 4O Million Visitors"
I love this town... and I love you and Yuka, too.
I had no interest in his work.
But I ended up writing for the school newspaper.
Published once a month.
I was editor-in-chief. and always running around school.
Letīs ask for more computer time.
Pleased to meet you. This is our new reporter, Machida.
I thought Dadīs paper was too complacent.
So, by writing pieces opposed to school rules, I felt I was rebelling against Dad.
For example, advocating unlimited access to computers.
I think we should be able to use the computers anytime we want.
īCause if we could, then weīd get much more. . .
. . . information.
I think we deserve that.
Yeah, but. . .
The rules must be changed. We need information.
We only had one PC at home. Definately not enough.
Iīm still using it. Come back in 2 hours.
Cactus Park was fun, huh? Letīs go there again.
Noriko angry because she canīt use the computer. Itīs a scoop!
One more picture.
Letīs take a picture together here.
Excuse me, would you mind?
Thank you.
Letīs go over there.
I was a teenage girl stuck in the boondocks.
I wanted to talk to girls all over the country, so I wanted to go online all the time.
Gotta get out of here.
Go somewhere different.
What?
Iīm definately going.
Am I crazy?
Whatever.
I wanted to go somewhere different, but I didnīt know where.
Stubborn, ditsy, rebellious, reckless. I had to go forward.
After a while, the teacher decided we could use the PCs until 5 PM.
Whatīs the verdict?
Good news, we can grant your request.
Really? Can I go use them now?
I had a favorite website.
A strange name. . . It was called Haikyo.com
There, 16- and 17-year-old girls talked about school and life.
I quickly became a regular member. My username - Mitsuko.
The name of French perfume.
When I became Mitsuko, I was no longer a naive country girl.
And I made some friends.
Hello, Cripple #5. Iīm Mitsuko.
"To Mitsuko: Hello. "
Hello, Long Neck.
Hello, Midnight.
Hello, Broken Dam.
"To Mitsuko: Hello. "
And Ueno Station 54. . .
Hello, Ueno Station 54.
"To Mitsuko: Hello. "
Whenever Ueno Station 54 showed up, It felt like we all became united.
It was like we were all standing on a plucked guitar string.
And the conversation would begin. Like a conversation in Morse code. . .
Iīm walking. . . Thereīs a plucked guitar string and. . .
Iīm on top of it.
I was happy and surprised that I found my best friends like this.
They were girls in Tokyo. I had to go to Tokyo.
(Everything OK?)
But you havenīt even met Ueno in person.
As I was about to tell him that I wouldnīt get pregnant in Tokyo. . .
...to meet my friends...
The power went out.
Our house was very old. The breaker switch would often go off.
No big deal. Mom slowly got up.
Looks like the breaker has switched off.
Yuka came out of her room.
Turn the power back on, Dad.
Taeko, is everything all right?
The breaker isnīt fixing it.
Dec. 10, 2001. I had lived in Toyokawa for 17 years.
A cold winter night. I was so cold and confused.
In the dark, I packed my bags.
Tokyo, Tokyo, Tokyo. . .
I had no idea what was in Tokyo, but I decided to gamble.
I had to find out. I had to gamble.
The important things in my room. . . my diary, money, necklace, favorite shirt. . .
I looked for all the things I couldnīt leave behind What did I really need?
What is it?
I was born to breathe. I wasnīt breathing just because I was born.
I inhaled oxygen and exhaled carbon dioxide. I felt alive.
I wanted to go somewhere different, but I didnīt know where.
Female, 17, ditsy, stubborn, rebellious. Just a kid. That was me.
I just realized that I was a virgin. Never even had a boyfriend.
Everything made me feel anxious. Just everything. But I cherished the feeling...
I was worried about everything and nothing. But I loved those worries.
Men, life, love, growing up. . . Things were weird.
Life was weird.
I wanted to tackle something. I had to go somewhere to find it.
I wanted to live, challenge, wish, forget, learn, know, ask. . .
. . . see, stare, understand, hear, listen, speak, meet. . .
. . . and be there.
I wanted to stand on with my own heart. I wanted to walk on my own legs.
I had to talk to Ueno Station 54. So I logged on to Haikyo.com
I knew sheīd be there.
www. haikyo. com
To the message board.
"Ueno Station 54? Itīs Mitsuko. "
"I finally ran away from home and came to Tokyo. "
"Iīm at an internet cafe now. Iīll stay in a cheap hotel tonight. "
"Can we meet in person tomorrow? Iīm free all day. "
"Maybe Iīll be free forever. "
"Iīve been pretending to be busy until now. I feel naked. "
"Suddenly without restraint, I feel kind of naked. "
"Like Iīm walking around naked. Iīm a little self-conscious. "
"Today, I realized Iīm still a virgin. "
"Maybe thatīs because I feel naked now. "
I sound like any other girl.
Did I disappoint her?
We met online this past summer.
Ueno Station 54 had been a moderator on this site for a long time.
- "To Mitsuko: How are you?" - "To Ueno Station 54: Fine. "
She replied to all the messages from girls crying for help.
Hello, Iīm Mitsuko.
"Be strong, Mitsuko. "
"You can do it, Mitsuko!!"
I became Mitsuko and tried so hard to be just like Ueno Station 54.
"You have it hard, too" I became Mitsuko and tried so hard to be just like Ueno Station 54.
I wondered. Could Noriko meet Ueno Station 54 in person?
I realized that I wasnīt Mitsuko. Something obvious I just now realized.
I was afraid that Ueno Station 54 wouldnīt want to meet me.
I received her reply.
She wrote "Iīll be at Ueno Station #54 at 11 AM. "
I went to Ueno right away. Ueno at night was eerier than Ginza.
SHIMABARA
MITSUKO
I set my alarm for 9 AM.
I needed 2 hours to get ready.
Be ready emotionally, breakfast, makeup. . . No, just to be ready emotionally.
I faded into darkness. But I was ripe.
I was ripe for growth.
I didnīt dream. But when I got up, I felt like I was in a dream.
Being active, I was happy.
I was Mitsuko.
Once again, I tore off a thread dangling from my coat.
I had left home... and threw away that thread into the past.
I didnīt know what Ueno Station #54 meant.
Where is #54?
I donīt know.
Whatīs #54?
No idea. Sorry.
Almost 11 AM. I walked around the station.
I should have left my luggage with the hotel.
1O5.
133.
9O.
84,79,7 4. . .
Itīs close.
54.
Ueno Station 54?
Mitsuko?
6 months later, at Shinjuku Station. . .
That happened.
54 high school girls threw themselves in front of a train.
They hide their inner selves.
According to the police press conference: The 54 girls were. . .
"7:29 PM, Track 8" According to the police press conference: The 54 gi rIs were. . .
According to the police press conference: The 54 girls were. . .
Here is an eyewitness testimony.
What a tragic occurrence.
According to the police press conference:. . .
The 54 girls were not all from the same high school. There are no suicide notes.
It was horrible. The platform was drenched in blood. . .
"54 Dead at Shinjuku" It was horrible. The platform was drenched in blood. . .
I wanted to be silly. Just like all my classmates.
Like all the girls my age, I wanted to laugh loudly and be silly.
I hated crying. I didnīt wanna cry.
YUKA
Yuka, stop.
Thought Iīd jump?
Just kidding.
Ever considered suicide?
No.
Maybe my sister killed herself.
Being silly.
You know the recent mass suicide in Tokyo?
At Shinjuku?
I hear most victims remain unidentified.
Theyīre still trying to separate the bodies.
54 total.
Hand in hand. . . One, two, three!
I hated being silly.
You sound amused.
But I couldnīt help it.
They jumped so happilly, right? Maybe my sister was there.
No, she just ran away. Probably with some guy.
You think so?
Yeah.
Maybe.
What, you want her dead?
I understand, Sis. I know everythlng.
I know youīre alive somewhere. I hear your heartbeat. You know how they managed to meet at Shinjuku?
I know youīre alive somewhere. I hear your heartbeat.
54 of them were from different high schools.
I know.
How?
Itīs a secret.
A secret?
And I know what it is.
Hey, come on. Tell me, Yuka.
Wait, Yuka. Tell me!
Stop! Check this out.
What?
The red dots are women. The white ones are men.
Stop.
Fine.
Whatīs this?
The night before the mass suicide, 54 new red dots appeared.
Itīs a signal.
A signal? For suicide?
Yeah.
Or maybe a threat.
Whatīs this?
Am I connected to myself, Sis?
"Are you connected to yourself?" Am I connected to myself, Sis?
Ueno Station 54?
Mitsuko?
Hi, Iīm Kumiko.
Nice to meet you.
You too.
This is my dad.
Hi, Iīm Kumikoīs father.
My mom.
Iīm her mother.
Iīm her brother. Nice to meet you.
Letīs go, Mitsuko.
Dec. 2001. I wrote this on Haikyo.com Are you listening, Yuka?
Dec. 2001. I wrote thls on Haikyo.com Are you listening, Yuka?
"That day, I was suffering from PMS, and rubbing my stomach. "
"I thought about my sister Yuka. I knew she was worried about me. "
"We got in their van and drove to Kumikoīs grandmotherīs house. "
Grandma!
"Her grandma came out and hugged Kumikoīs brother. "
"The grandma and Kumikoīs parents hugged, too. She was moved. "
"When Kumiko said, īHi, Grandma, ī she started crying"
I wondered what Yuka would think if she saw this.
I kind of thought she had been posting on the board.
This girl "Yoko" sounded like Yuka. Was it Yuka?
See ya.
Wait. Hey, wait up!
I wondered what sheīd think if she found out about me.
"Yuka, I īm good friends with everyone on this site. "
"Surprised? Weīre both here now, so be nice to me, Ok?"
"Understand, Yuka?"
"By the way, are you connected to yourself?"
"I wrote about Ueno Statlon 54 before. Ueno Station Locker #54. "
"When she decided to call herself Ueno Station 54. . . "
"thatīs when it all began. "
I come here every night at 8 to check on my stuff.
Dad gave me this music box for Christmas when I was 6.
"None of the stuff was actually hers. "
This pink dress is what my mom wore To the hospital when my brother was born
Cute.
Yeah?
This is the harmonica I used during Game Day in kindergarten.
"She just collected a bunch of stuff that people had left behind. "
"And made up her own stories. "
These rain boots were the first things I asked Mom to buy me.
But it didnīt rain much, so I wore them on a sunny day.
"She had no genuine memories. She just didnīt give a shit. "
You wanna put a memory in here?
Me?
This.
"Ever since I met Kumiko, Iīve been thinking that. . . "
". . . she and I are similar. Maybe it means Iīm fabricating my past to become a new woman. "
"Iīm no longer Noriko. Iīm Mitsuko, the new me. "
Whatīs this?
Mitsukoīs umbilical cord.
"I finally became the person I aIways wanted to be. "
Okay, Mitsuko. Your umbilical cord is here.
"Everything is our made-up story. Isnīt it wonderful, Yuka?"
"No End to Rash of Suicides"
Letīs go.
Right.
The pomelos are doing well this year.
- What about damage from the birds? - Well. . .
Tetsu, take a picture. please.
Okay.
I decided to become Yoko, and be connected to myself.
A clue for Dad. I wondered if heīd notice.
Free tissues.
I kept hearing my sisterīs voice, like a radio that wouldnīt turn off.
My sisterīs voice. . .
Taeko. Taeko. . .
Dad was shocked that I followed in my sisterīs footsteps.
Where are you?
It was a month after I ran away. . .
. . . that Dad finally started looking thoroughly for clues.
"Daddy"
He quit his job rlght after I left.
Listen. . .
I quit.
For a few weeks, he had searched for me and my sister.
But he lacked any understanding of us.
Finally, he started looking for clues in our room. . .
I stopped writing right there. I was in class.
I was just thinking if I ran away like my sister, what wouId my father, Tetsuzo, do?
What would he do?
How would he know anything about us? The clue I had left for him?
My father, Tetsuzo, would find it accidentally behind that poster in our room.
"Yukaīs handwriting, " heīd think.
"Ueno Station 54 Haikyo"
A month later, Tetsuzoīs wife Taeko started to help him.
They searched their daughtersīroom and obtained pieces of information.
They checked every website that their daughters had visited.
"1. Noriko was friends with a woman named Ueno Station 54. "
"2. Ueno Statlon 54 meant the locker #54 at Ueno Station. "
Tetsuzo, a former reporter, knew what he was doing.
Meanwhile, he stopped sharing information with his wife.
- Whatīs wrong?
- Nothing.
He thought it would be like saying he knew where an alien base was.
Like saying aliens had abducted Yuka and Noriko.
There was no way he wouId say anything.
He became more and more convinced that his supposition was correct.
He was afraid. It would be wading into an unbelievably large amount of magma.
He was sure that his wife would ridicule him if he told her.
"Suicide Club Exists. " The tabloid headline matched his conclusion.
He knew the Suicide Club existed.
He had been fooling himself that. . .
. . . Toyokawa was some kind of paradise, apart from the dangers of the world.
Simple Toyokawa had become a bleeding corpse.
Because of the Suicide Club?
"Whatīs your connection to you, and to your family?"
"How are you connected to yourself?" Tetsuzo felt the club was asking him.
Dec. 11, 2002.
After 3 months of investigation, he wrote the following
"1. The Suicide Club exists. "
"2. Members meet on Haikyo.com"
"3. The dots on Haikyo.com represent suicides. "
"The white ones are men. The red ones are women. "
What was I writing?
Whereīs Tangerine?
I donīt know.
On to the last scene. This is where the trouble begins.
What has the power to get the magma flowing?
Tetsuzo tried to specuIate. . .
But he told himself to look only at the facts.
He wrote so hard that he could see his writing on the next page.
Wait. . .
What if I tore this page from my notebook and went to Tokyo. . .
Who would shade my blank pages with a pencil to discover what I wrote?
I managed to reach my sisterīs heart. Would Dad reach mine?
Nobody would care about my imprint. People vanish all the time.
A beautiful day in Toyokawa. . .
That was the last time I saw the ocean.
And the last time I watched the sunset there.
KUMIKO
Whatīs wrong?
Nothing.
PMS?
Kumiko. . . Ueno Station?
Call me Ueno Station if you want.
Real name?
Here.
Hello.
Grandma, itīs been so long.
The first day, we went to Kumikoīs grandmaīs house.
Iīm almost done with elementary school.
Good for you. Maybe I should give you a gift.
I wasnīt related to them at all, but I was there. . .
. . . and it was cozy.
They were the epitome of happiness. It was so great to see them.
I had lived as a member of the Shimabara family for 17 years.
But we had been cold and distant.
The bonds holding Kumikoīs family together were like fat pipes.
Each relationship an artery of happiness for them.
Kummikoīs happy family.
I wanted so badly to be a member of this family.
Weīll visit again.
We waved and said goodbye to Grandma. . .
. . . and then left for another grandmotherīs house.
Come on, Mitsuko.
The other grandmother also gave us a hearty welcome.
How are you?
They greeted each other.
This time I wasnīt so nervous for some reason.
The conversation went on exactly as at the last house.
This is my classmate Mitsuko.
Thanks.
The most ideal brother in the worId.
Kumiko helped her mom in the kitchen.
The perfect mother and daughter.
Hey, Shingo! Common! Dad!
Kumikoīs dad gave Grandma a shoulder massage.
Could there be a more family-like family anywhere in the world?
Make yourself at home, Mitsuko.
She called me Mitsuko.
I, as Mitsuko, became a member of this family.
"The most important thing You must be connected to yourself, Yuka. "
"Iīm connected to myself, Yuka"
"You understand, Yuka?"
The members of Kumikoīs family were connected to themselves.
Wait 5 minutes, then come inside.
Okay. . .
Grandpa.
Youīre late, Mitsuko.
Where were you?
Mitsuko.
Come see your grandfather.
Mitsuko is here.
Mitsuko. . .
Come closer. . .
Grandpa!
Grandpa.
The new girl is good.
He likes you.
Good job.
You even change your toothbrush to suit each client.
Pick yours.
Iīll take this one.
A great story opens your eyes. Thereīs this one story. . .
There was a baby born in a locker.
Born in a locker?
Years later, the mother found out the girlīs whereabouts and went to. . .
. . . see her.
No way.
They met.
Really?
Yeah, but the woman was a bad actress. She sucked at playing a mother.
Once upon a time, there was a family. Parents and two daughters.
They were seemingly happy.
However. . .
The mother was smart and polite.
The father was hard-working.
But he didnīt try to understand his daughters. Their individuality.
Thatīs why they ran away.
The first time in Tokyoīs Suginami Ward.
Stray cats roamed the back alleys like blood flows through a vein.
Stray cats form families instantly.
No need to feel sorry for them. Theyīre tough. They own this town.
We have to relate to each other like stray cats do.
We own Tokyo, OK?
We do?
Cool.
While I was chewing gum, I thought. . .
"Yes, we own Tokyo. "
A middle-aged man came out. Unkempt hair. Unshaven face.
What are you wearing?
Get in.
We went inside.
At that point, I had no idea what I was supposed to do.
But I knew Kumiko would tell me.
This way.
I walked down the hall.
I saw many mortuary tablets placed on the family altar.
Photographs. His family, probably.
We went into the living room and followed his orders.
Sit!
He lit a cigarette. I sensed that he was my "father. "
I looked at Kumiko. She looked cute lost in reflection.
She closed her eyes. I saw shiny droplets under her long bangs.
Donīt cry, stupid.
But. . .
Iīm not a kid anymore. Let me do what I want.
Dad.
My turn.
Dad looked at me with teary eyes. I loved Dad.
I was his daughter. He was a lonely, stubborn man.
Suddenly, I had a vision of the Tiny Tokai Times.
Headline "Dad is Lonely"
No, not true.
That wasnīt my dad. My real dad was sitting in front of me.
He looked depressed.
Ever since you girls disappeared, Daddyīs been. . .
. . . thinking about you nonstop.
I didnīt forget for a moment.
We shouldnīt have come back.
Wait.
We ran down the hall, opened the door violently.
I heard Dad sobbing behind me. I cried.
I couldnīt stop.
You crying?
Letīs go back, OK?
Slurring my words, I tried to convince her. She smiled.
Letīs go back.
Yes, letīs go back.
Letīs do everything over.
Can you hear me, Yuka? Can you hear my voice?
I cried with my face buried in his chest, Yuka.
I had never done anything like that.
I was moved.
Kumiko snuggled up to us and sobbed.
We reconciled.
Eat all you want.
Sorry itīs not much.
Next time līll get more food. A variety of dishes.
Itīll be fun.
Your dad just won big on. . .
. . . bicycle races.
Awesome, Dad.
Great.
Horse racing, pachinko. . . Lately Iīve been winning them all.
Itīs like a miracle.
Youīre so lucky.
So, with that money. . .
I want us to start over.
I wonīt cause you any trouble.
Your mother is watching over us from heaven.
Just got kind of emotional, huh?
Letīs eat. We have dessert too.
This is a little too sweet.
Timeīs up.
Well. . . can we finish dinner?
Timeīs up.
Youīre right.
Time just flew by.
A little bit longer, Dad.
Really?
Yeah, you just got back, so. . .
Donīt leave again.
Dad.
Donīt go. Please stay.
Donīt get carried away, asshole.
Rules are rules, you fuck. What the fuck is wrong with you?
Letīs get out of here.
Get up.
Get the fuck up.
Wanna stay here forever?
"Yuka? By now, you know what we do?"
"Itīs called īfamily rental. ī You know it?"
That. . . that was fun. Very fun.
"Kumiko, born in a coin locker, has her 25th birthday is coming up, and weīre wondering. . ."
". . . which family to celebrate with. "
1 year later
In Tokyo, I was waiting for her.
Kumiko, a. k. a. Ueno Station 54. I knew sheīd be here.
Excuse me. Kumiko, right?
Iīd like to talk to you about something.
An ordinary girl.
If you have any questions about our services, please call this number.
What?
I canīt explain anything to you in person.
You canīt run away from me.
"Your support. Personnel placement. We take all orders"
Iīll get you.
". . . 24 Dead. . . "
". . . Mass Suicide. . . "
Theyīre late.
Are they here?
Who?
That guy?
Him?
No.
Be cool, be cool, be cool. . .
Theyīre not here yet.
Mr. Shimabara?
Yes.
What do you wanna know?
What?
I wanna know the truth.
Be cool, be cool. . .
Are you connected to you, Tetsuzo?
What?
Are you connected to yourseIf?
Yes. Thatīs why Iīm here.
I know all about you.
Good for you. I used to be a reporter.
Is this Suicide Clubīs headquarters?
Suicide Club? No such thing.
There are theories of cults and mass hysteria, of cult groups embracing messiahs. . .
. . . and the apocalypse, all linked to a Suicide Club.
Suicide Club this, Suicide Club that.
Itīs even in the media.
Donīt pretend like you donīt know.
But it seems like theyīve forgotten about that incident at Shinjuku.
54 people died there. But humans are forgetful creatures.
People forget everything.
There is no Suicide Club. Itīs all a product of your apathetic curiosity.
Be cool, be cool. . .
Even strongly put, itīs more of a suicide social group. Itīs a circle.
Be strong.
Even strongiy put, itīs more of a suicide sociai group. Itīs a circle.
A circle?
Anyway, imagine that the Sun Goddess was born in a locker.
The collapse of civilization began at the #54 locker at Ueno Station.
Ueno Station, locker #54.
She runs a family-rental business called I.C. Corp.
"Three-Day-Old Coin Locker Baby Found" She runs a family-rental business called I.C. Corp.
"Three-Day-Old Coin Locker Baby Found"
When requested, they go spend time with their clients. . .
. . . and pretend to be their family members.
Sometimes for 10 years or 2O years.
What is he saying? What is he talking about?
She has many companies, including several masquerading as car rentals.
Do you understand?
What about the Suicide Club?
What about it?
Itīs the result of Kumikoīs grudge, right?
What Kumiko wanted was. . .
. . . to live a normal life and be a normal girl, right?
So she acted like a normal girl in family-rental situations.
But that wasnīt enough. She wanted revenge.
She wanted to turn every kid into Kumiko.
Thereīs nothing more to tell you.
What?
I told you everything.
Now, everyone else is starting to realize what they have to do.
Donīt you know?
Be cool, be cool. . .
You tried so hard to figure us out.
I know all about you. But what do you know?
You used to be a reporter. But itīs over and you can relax now.
I want my daughters back.
"Missing" I want my daughters back.
"Searching for Lost Puppies"
Itīs time for you to wake up to your role.
Who are you?
You said you were connected to yourself, but are you really?
Youīre not believable as a reporter or a father.
The world is full of lies that people canīt play their roles convincingly.
They fall as husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, children, etc.
So, the only way to figure out what we can be. . .
. . . is to lie openly and pursue emptiness.
Feel the desert. Experience loneliness. Feel it.
Survive the desert. That is your role.
That night, I had a strange dream.
The desert. Was this what he meant?
I was in their hideout.
Was this really their hideout?
I sensed Noriko and Yuka were here.
I knew they were alive. They were here.
I felt their presence profoundly.
Noriko. . . her voice. . .
Yuka. . . 5 years old. . . running into the kitchen. . . holding the newspaper. . .
They were alive.
Why did Noriko run away from home during a blackout in late 2001?
Tetsuzo, whatīs your connection to Toyokawa? To your family?
To yourself? State it in 50 words or less.
Yuka.
Noriko.
I heard that guyīs voice. Suddenly I was back in the desert.
I had to go on and find them.
I woke up.
TETSUZO
Hello?
Tetsu? Itīs me.
Iīm almost there.
What story are you working on?
Iīll tell you later.
OK. Iīll see you shortly.
What would I say to Yuka? I wondered.
What was she thinking when she wrote this story? Even if I was there, I couldnīt be there for her.
She disappeared the next day. . .
It wasnīt just some kind of hypothetical situation.
She was clearly expressing anger at me.
Immediately quitting my job as editor-in-chief the day after Yuka ran away...
I didnīt do that.
I went to work like nothing happened, same as when Noriko disappeared
Is it OK like this?
Thatīs fine.
Now, about the new Toyokawa history corner...
The following day, our top story was about Toyokawaīs public library.
It was 2 months later that I finally quit my job.
Because my wife killed herself.
Can I take a picture?
I thought Yuka would be shocked.
I was an even worse father than she had imagined.
I chose my career over my family.
Would you like to take a look?. . . I chose my career over my family.
Would you like to take a look?. . .
I took pride in my work because this newspaper was a symbol of peace.
In Toyokawa, The blue sky, the ocean, the harbor, farms and mountains. . .
It was the perfect town.
I wrote pastoral fluff pieces for the paper, like an artist sketching the blue sky.
We all lived in this perfect town.
My daughters were residents of Toyokawa.
Point at that thing.
Look at Daddy.
Letīs take a picture.
Picture time.
Come on, Noriko.
Right there.
Point at that thing.
Ready?
Impressive.
Come take a look at this.
Noriko, Yuka, come on.
Look.
A happy family.
When my wife did a painting based on that photograph. . .
I failed to notice my daughtersīexpressions.
Yuka wrote "All he understood was that he didnīt understand them at all. "
When I read that, I cried.
Fuck this.
A bunch of crap.
I had all these notes on the walls of my room.
Fuck all this.
A month later. . .
My wife died.
She was tired.
Taeko.
I read the notes repeatedly.
Even though Yuka saw right through me. . .
Yuka could simmulate me, but I couldnīt simulate my daughterīs actions in my mind. . .
. . . or my wifeīs.
Right here.
Here.
Iīm so sorry.
Itīs all my fault.
Had I been a good mother, they wouldnīt have. . .
What? Donīt say that.
Itīs not your fault. Itīs all right.
Taeko.
What are you still doing up?
Taeko?
Hey, Taeko?
Hey...
While I had my eyes averted from the bloody stench of reality, ...
...my two daughters disappeared from this forced peaceful painting.
Taeko!
Calm down.
Itīs all right.
No red balloons.
I wouldīve done anything to catch them if theyīd promised to take me to my girls.
Tetsu.
How you been?
Hey. This way.
Whatīs the hurry?
Sit.
You know the Suicide Club?
I started talking right away.
A summary of my life in 30 sec.
This is my daughter. She ran away...
I then explained why I was in Tokyo.
I then handed him my notes, and told him. . .
. . . to finish what I had started, if something happened to me.
I donīt understand.
Things have changed.
After today, I donīt know if Iīll be safe.
Youīre the only one I can trust with this information.
What exactIy do you want me to do?
If you disappear, then what?
Suppose this Suicide Club exists. What am I supposed to do with it?
Youīll know what to do. Itīs right up your alley.
Iīm gonna go now. Wait here for a woman, Kumiko.
Sheīll be here in a minute. Tell her you want a family.
This is the scenario My daughters, Noriko and Yuka.
Theyīll play your daughters.
Kumiko will play your wife, Taeko.
Noriko and Yuka will be called. . .
. . . Mitsuko and Yoko, respectively. Their favorite aliases.
Anyway, I have to go. Iīll tell you more later.
Yeah?
You called us?
Yes.
We appreciate your business.
Come on in.
Thanks.
Please sit.
So, letīs talk.
You want to be the father, correct?
Yes.
You want a wife and two daughters?
Yes.
Look through this photo album and pick who you want.
I like this girl.
The older sister will be Mitsuko. The younger sister will be Yoko.
And my wife. . .
Hey, Sis.
Sis?
Mitsuko doesnīt need to act right now.
No acting when you have no role.
I was embarrassed. I knew she wasnīt my real sister anymore.
I needed more practice.
You need more practice.
Youīre Yoko. Sheīs Mitsuko.
Not Yuka, not Noriko. Not sisters.
Forget that.
Memorize this address. Study the area.
Stores, banks, cigarette machines. . . Know where everything is.
He wants to act like heīs been in this town for 20 years.
So we have to act like weīve been here for 20 years.
He wants us to be his family members.
Iīm his wife. Youīre his daughters.
This time youīre sisters.
This guy is your father.
They stared at the photograph, and then closed their eyes.
They imagined being his daughters. I looked at the photo. . .
. . . dolng that made the fatherīs face become flesh and blood.
I look at the customerīs face. Not to become his wife.
But to make sure it wasnīt the same guy from before.
That guy I met - Tetsuzo.
I knew for sure he was behind this.
Tetsuzo Shimabara.
Mitsuko.
Yes?
Do you still have the coat you were wearing when you ran away?
Yeah.
You have it now?
Yeah.
Can I see it?
Sure.
I remember this.
Can you put it on?
Okay.
Can you imitate Noriko with this?
I want you to wear it today, Mitsuko.
Former sisters. . .
Heīs not a regular client.
Be careful.
They werenīt ready for this.
Often times, people came to us to relive their past.
Business card.
5 years ago, I met someone who claimed to be my real mother.
She begged for a chance to fix our relationship.
Sayuri Yoshida? Youīre a "flower coordinator"?
Whatīs that?
You read my letter?
Yeah.
I read it, Mom.
I called her Mom.
Thank you.
Mom.
Once again.
Slowly.
Mom.
Mitsuko.
I donīt know that name.
You know how much I missed you?
Iīm sorry, Mitsuko.
Whoīs Mitsuko?
I always think about you.
Thank you, Mitsuko.
Whereīs Dad?
Weīre back together now.
And? You suck at acting. You wanna switch?
What do you mean?
You want me to play the motherīs role?
Now you listen to me.
If you want, I can play your mother, you bitch.
A locker is my mother.
I told her a locker was my mother.
The woman cried and screamed, but I didnīt give a shit.
Youīre so cruel!!!
Even if she was my real mother, she didnīt convince me at all.
Iīm cruel? Yes, letī s do a cruel role play! Even if she was my real mother, she didnīt convince me at all.
Express more suffering. Even if she was my real mother, she didnīt convince me at all.
Express more suffering.
Just an amateur actress.
She couldnīt play it well.
So easy. Crying is the easiest form of acting. She couldnīt pIay it weIl.
So easy. Crying is the easiest form of acting.
I thought about showing her how to play the role properly.
I want to start over.
WouId Tetsuzo say that too?
Practice with us.
Iīll do anything.
She says sheīll practice pIaying mother with us.
Sayuri.
Iīll do anything.
Take her.
Wait.
Bring along your man. Weīll make him a "father. "
Heīs here now.
Where?
Mitsuko.
Take him too.
Their daughter was probably named Mitsuko.
Mitsuko. . .
A few years later, a girl named Mitsuko showed up.
If you do a good job tonight, youīll finally become the real you.
OK.
Mitsuko?
OK.
But remember, youīre not real sisters. Itīs all acting.
The guy will play your father.
Donīt let him confuse you.
OK?
"8:29 PM"
I had all the lights on.
I heard a car stop outside.
It was a gamble.
Theyīre here.
What did I want?
To regain my pride and dignity?
No, I just wanted to show them what I was capable of.
This was a party.
A surprise party.
I grasped my wifeīs knife that I had in my pocket.
I suddenly regretted my whole life.
For some reason as I felt that regret, I also loved it.
How was Hokkaido?
Weīre home.
I had looked for a house that resembled my own.
This oneīs very similar.
Youīre right.
- Can we go look at it now? - Sure.
Thanks.
Here.
Great.
I think it meets your criteria.
Can we go inside?
Sure.
Be careful. Put the cabinet in this room.
I transported everything.
Furniture, Norikoīs stuff, Yukaīs stuff. . .
Everything.
Weīre home.
Iīm exhausted.
Welcome home.
Hi, Dad.
Iīm so tired.
I missed you.
Noriko and Yuka carried their big travel bags.
It was the first time in 2 years that I saw my daughters.
My heart was beating. All those repressed emotions welled up.
Mitsuko, Yoko. . .
Something wrong?
"How was Hokkaldo?" Ikeda started a conversation.
I humored him.
Mitsuko, smiling, got up and went to hug him.
I missed you.
I missed you too.
It wasnīt the same without you.
Corny acting. Was this what their lonely, desperate clients wanted?
But I was lonely and desperate too.
Iīve prepared sukiyaki for you.
Wonderful.
Oh, no.
What?
Taeko, come here.
What?
Problem?
Whatīs the matter?
I forgot to buy meat.
What was I thinking?
Youīre just tired. Itīs all right.
Iīll go buy it.
But you just got back.
Itīs OK. Iīll be right back.
Get me 3 packs of Cherry Cigarettes, too.
OK.
I needed to buy time.
Cherry Cigarettes were hard to find.
Kumiko was gone.
I heard the door shut.
Vegetables, shirataki noodles. . .
Ikeda went back to the room.
Put your bags in your room.
Sis?
Yeah?
Been a long day, huh?
Yeah.
Just like old times, isnīt it?
Come downstairs.
Hurry.
OK.
I didnīt have much time.
I had to act efficiently.
My daughters were smiling.
They looked so lovely.
I had made up my past and stuffed it all in the back of a cold locker, in that metal box.
But in reality it was a cardboard box. Soft and fragile, it wouId dissolve in the rain.
An outline... Humans have an outline.
I wanted to make him a solid father.
It wasnīt long ago that Broken Dam was stabbed to death.
Phone for you.
How may I help you?
What?
He wants to kill me.
Youīre gonna die?
Maybe. Could you leave?
Cheerfully, Broken Dam delivered her final lecture.
I took psychoIogy.
In class, a bully and his victim reversed roles. . .
. . . and the bully felt the victimīs pain for the first time and wailed.
He what?
He wept.
- Sorry Iīm late. - Have a seat.
The bully learned his lesson and never bullied again.
So, someone has to play the role of a victim.
Everyone wants to be champagne, not the glass. A flower, not the vase.
But the world needs glasses and vases. These roles need to be filled.
Like a master/servant relationship. Maybe thatīs how capitalism is?
- Whatīs capitalism? - Iīll tell you later.
Lovers, spouses, family members. . .
We all need to reverse roles and. . .
. . . figure out what each of us is meant to be.
Survival of the fittest?
So cute.
We need rabbits. Not just lions.
Rabbits and Lions canīt switch places, but we human beings can.
Some will kill. Some will be killed.
Thatīs the circle of life, though there are contradictions.
Just like the numbers after 3.14 in pi continue without end, real circles can never be perfect.
But if you draw a circle with a compass and a big fat marker. . .
. . . a thick outlne will make it seem perfect.
Iīll give you a sense of perfection, Tetsuzo.
You can be a lion. Iīll be a rabbit.
I donīt need thick outlines.
My metal box is starting to rot.
Iīm gonna go to a higher level.
A rabbit, a suicide, a killer, evil, water overflowing from a glass. .
Iīll be whatever no one else wants to be.
Iīm sick of shameless outlines of people seeking happiness.
They donīt wanna be rabbits. They just wanna eat rabbits.
Thereīs no such jungle.
While our club expanded. . .
Broken Dam, CrippIe #5, Long Neck, Midnight. . . they all died.
Some killed themseIves. Some were killed.
Broken Dam went to see a client who hated his Wife in a hotel room. I went along.
Red carpet in the hall.
Iīll turn it on.
You know what song he requested?
- Some SMAP song? - Wrong.
What?
Hint? Think, a geyser of blood.
What?
Blood wonīt be noticeable here.
- I got it. "Wine-Red Heart" ? - Wrong.
Just turn on the radio in 30 sec.
OK.
Why werenīt you with me that day?
Iīm sorry, sweetheart.
- "Bright Red Sun" ? - Wrong.
Forgive me.
Why did you go see him? You fuckinī love him?
Iīm sorry I betrayed your trust.
. . . beautiful song, isnīt it?
This next song is a request from someone named. . . Broken Dam?
Itīs called "Blossom of a Red Rose. "
"Blossom of a Red Rose. "
Itīs your favorite. Letīs sing.
Shut up.
Here. Thank you.
Thanks.
A look of satisfaction on his big fat stupid face. A happy murderer.
"Forgive me, sweetheart, " Broken Dam said over and over.
"You deserve this, you fuckinīwhore. "
The man stabbed her repeatedly.
Broken Dam played her role and died happily.
Did she really die?
Yeah.
Alright!
Youīre next.
Iīll do my best.
Cripple #5, Long Neck, and Midnight. . .
. . . jumped off the platform.
I made Mitsuko witness it.
I wanted her to undertake a task of such magnitude someday.
She was still seeking happiness. She had come to Tokyo to be happy.
But I knew sheīd transcend it.
After I finished shopping, I headed back home, a happy wife.
THE KNIFE IN MY POCKET
What?
Are you OK, Dad?
Something wrong, Dad?
They kept saying "Dad. " Was that how they pleased all their "fathers" ?
Thereīs someone I want you to meet.
Who?
This is fun.
Come on out, Tetsu.
Tetsu.
Now.
Hello.
He has wanted to see you.
Sit down.
Weīre not gonna wait for the meat. Right, Tetsuzo?
Come on.
Introduce yourself.
You want me to introduce you?
Do something.
Youīre their father.
What are you doing?
Whatīs this guyīs problem?
Hey, stranger. Youīre scaring Yoko.
Stranger?
This is Yoko. You donīt know?
By the way, stranger. . .
Iīll tell you my name. My name is Mitsuko.
Can you remember that?
Iīm Mitsuko.
I want to start over.
Noriko.
Yuka.
Iīm your dad. Your father.
Iīm out of here.
Noriko, Yuka. Talk to your father.
Timeīs up.
Letīs go.
It hasnīt been an hour yet.
Who are you?
I thought you were my father.
Take this guy and leave.
Now, Yuka, call him "Dad. " We donīt have much time.
Iīm back.
Hey, Iīm back.
What?
Stop.
Youīre hurting me.
Stay out of this.
What is this, sweetheart?
Stop this stupid act.
What?
Stop this stupid act.
Iīm the customer here. You do what I say.
Customer? I was confused.
Sometimes, I would forget that I was Kumiko.
Sweetheart?
No, Iīm Ikeda. I have no wife or children.
You come with me.
Get up.
Stranger...
Get out of here.
Noriko. . .
Iīm Mitsuko.
Noriko.
Iīm Mitsuko.
I felt like I was back in 2002, standing on that platform.
I tore off a thread that was dangling from my coat.
54 girls lined up on the platform at Shinjuku.
Open a window. I needed some air.
I walked past the stranger to the veranda.
I opened the window. The white curtains billowed.
It was snowing.
Saliva started to flow in my mouth.
It might have been drool. Cold drool.
I couldnīt breathe, so I opened my mouth.
Drool dripped on the floor.
The table, reflected in the window, seemed so far away.
Guys from our circle were beating up the stranger, kicking and punching him.
I crouched down and touched my own drool.
I was drooling, and I wanted to pee.
Soon, everything turned white.
It felt like there was sand everywhere. The floor seemed rough.
But I wasnīt in the desert. I was in some nameless town. I was some nameless girl.
And I was talking to Tangerine.
Tangerine, Tangerine... Round, orange-colored Tangerine was standing in the snow.
Whatīs up, Norippe?
Boys are trouble. . .
I remembered that we used to walk to school together.
Recognize my uniform, Norippe?
Thatīs the school I go to now. And this is my route there
It was a snowy night, and Tangerine was there.
I still love tangerines.
Tangerines.
Yuka was crying.
Mitsuko. Yoko.
Mom.
I got some meat.
What happened? You must be hungry.
Letīs eat.
Can you go get the portable stove from the kitchen?
So cold today.
I know.
Can you close the window?
Also, can you go get the pan?
My hands are numb.
What?
It doesnīt work, Mom.
Where are extra gas cartridges?
Heīll find them.
- Donīt put it on the stove. - Why not?
Itīs out of gas.
Iīll put it here for now.
- Iīm so hungry. - Me too.
Do we have extra cartridges?
Sweetheart, you wanted us to die together tonight.
Didnīt you?
Please.
Kill me.
Whoīs this man?
Heīs your father, silly.
Noriko, your fatherīs looking for gas cartridges.
Noriko?
Kill me now.
Just kill me. Then run away with Noriko and Yuka.
No, Iīm not Noriko. Iīm Mitsuko.
Donīt make a face, Noriko.
No.
Youīre a girl.
Iīm not Noriko. Iīm Mitsuko.
Girls shouldnīt do that.
No.
Dear, donīt you agree?
Mom, Iīm Mitsuko.
We wanna avoid pain.
We just wanna avoid pain, right?
You, me. . .
We just wanna avoid pain, right?
We all just wanna avoid pain.
Itīs time to go, but. . .
Are we going?
Or staying?
What do you wanna do, sir?
Iīm so tired.
Right, sir?
Sir?
Do you want more time?
I think. . .
Can I say what I think?
Is it OK, Mitsuko?
You all look like lions to me.
You all look like lions.
Letīs be rabbits again.
Letīs be rabbits again, OK?
I want to extend this session.
Letīs extend it.
Mmm, this is good.
Ow, hot!
Home-cooked meals are the best.
You have to eat vegetables too.
Get me some meat, Mom.
- Get it yourself. - You should get it, Sis.
I gave you vegetables, too.
- Want some meat, Dad? - No, Iīm fine.
Itīs delicious.
Tea?
Refill, please.
- Here. Yuka, you want tea? - Please.
Honey, excuse me. Oh, watch out!
There is no Suicide Club.
Warms you up, huh?
I know.
You can eat more, right?
My face is burning.
The world is the Suicide Club, with far more suicides than our circle.
Being close to death gives living value.
Only a small fraction of our members actually commit suicide.
Not all members commit suicide?
It was a stupid question.
Only the members whose roles require them to commit suicide, do.
If you saw a lion eat a zebra, would you call it a "Cannibal Club" ?
Lions eat zebras. Zebras eat grass.
The circle of life.
- Are you eating vegetables? - Yeah, I even had seconds.
But thereīs still a lot.
īCause youīre only eating meat Sis.
Sorry.
I want. . .
I want to start over.
What are you talking about?
Listen to me.
Taeko.
I want to redo everything. Starting now.
But. . .
Donīt you know. . .
Weīre all sick and tired of your selfish ways.
Dad. . .
Youīve always been so selfish.
Noriko.
She had never said anything like that to me in Toyokawa.
If she had, I probably wouldīve hit her.
Iīm so sorry.
I was wrong.
So letīs. . .
. . . make a fresh start.
Letīs die once. . .
. . . and come back to life.
Iīm done.
It was delicious.
- Iīm full. - Me too.
We finished it all.
3 hours had passed.
The extension on my time was about over.
I was happy.
I wanted to shout, "Happy!"
My dad. . . my sister. . .
. . . and Kumiko as my mother.
Happy!
I reminisced about. . . Toyokawa, 10 years ago. . .
. . . the stuffed animal attached to my sisterīs bag. . .
. . . memories. . . in rapid succession. . .
After dinner, my sister and I took a bath together.
Sis.
Do you remember when Dad came to class?. . . ...when he was discovered by the other kids? We talked about our past. . . when we were Noriko and Yuka.
Yeah, I remember. Dad was so embarrassed.
I couldnīt tell if this woman was Mitsuko or Noriko,but she was laughing with joy.
You must be tired.
You must be too.
Mom, Dad. Good night.
I wanted the power to go out before we went to sleep.
But the whole house remained bright with fluorescent lights.
Iīm a little dizzy from the heat.
Gotta get up early tomorrow, right?
- Gotta get some sleep. - Me too.
Gīnight.
Good night.
I wanted to thank my father for setting this up.
That night, I thought I could finally take over from my sister.
She had always said. . .
"Gotta go somewhere different. Gotta get out of here. "
I had laughed at her.
But I finally understood her.
I watched her sleep for the first time in a long time.
She was moaning in her sleep.
Sounded familiar. I was happy.
I wanted to tell her, "Never stop acting, even in your sleep. "
Iīm sorry, Sis.
Then I quietly got out of bed.
Tip-toed down the hall.
Sommething I wanted to see.
Grinding his teeth. . . talking in his sleep. . . as usual.
Thank you, Dad.
While I was putting on my shoes, I almost sneezed.
I held it in.
I opened the door and went outside. Fresh air greeted me.
6 AM. It was still dark.
I took a deep breath. I inhaled deeply.
I started to walk down the street toward the center of the city.
I wanted to go somewhere completely different.
I sneezed.
Iīm walking for the first time.
I was through with Yoko. But I wasnīt Yuka either.
Just some nameless girl. I started walking.
Your heart is a small glass. If you pour too much emotion into it. . .
. . . tears will spill out.
Goodbye, Yuka.
Goodbye, my adolescence.
Goodbye, Haikyo.com
Goodbye, Mitsuko.
I am Noriko.
Screenplay and Directed by Sion Sono