GOODNIGHT TOKYO

A series of quests in Tokyo turn out to be related.

It’s after midnight in Tokyo, and something is missing. Mitsuki Sawatari is at the prop warehouse, searching for an obscure artifact to meet a movie director’s exacting specifications. Mitsuki is tasked with tracking down whatever an artist requires, whether it’s out-of-season fruit or potentially nonexistent household appliances, no matter the hour. When the resourceful procurer is out of ideas, she turns to Matsui, a late-night cab driver and her confidante. Amiable and professional, Matsui is loath to divulge the details of his own quest to his customers. Still, when a young man who may or may not be a detective hops into his cab one night, his curiosity is piqued and he’s tempted to ask him for help. He discusses the matter with another customer, Kanako Fuyuki. Kanako’s job at the Tokyo No. 3 Consultation Room has taught her to answer all manner of questions. Though she can counsel a broken heart or find watercolors before daybreak, she too has a person from her past who cannot be found. The cast seems to grow exponentially with each chapter. Every interaction, however cursory, unlocks new pathways, catalyzes relationships, and nudges at fate. To Matsui, those connections happen, not despite the size of Tokyo, but because of it: “When you consider that every person has their own connections, that those networks spread out in a myriad of intricate ways, you realize that the greater the number of people, the greater the rate of the spread, like a contagious disease.” There’s something magical about these late-night fairy-tale interactions, every person unwittingly walking the city with the key to a stranger’s mystery in their pocket. As the coincidences grow in number, though, their impact turns feeble, and the final twists of fate underlying the premise have an air of resignation.

A sweet series of interconnected stories that ultimately fails to dazzle.