10

The morning sales meeting ended, and Noda returned to his office.

He’d been up early, and as he cast an eye over the sales plan, he started to feel drowsy. He’d had some coffee, both at home and during the meeting, but he still felt sleepy. It often happened that way. This time was different, though; the lure of sleep was strangely seductive, strangely insistent.

Being aware of his own fatigue was nothing particularly unpleasant for someone of Noda’s age or status. It wasn’t a fatigue based on worry, and anyway, the sales plan wasn’t particularly urgent. As he sat at his desk in his comfortable office armchair, he allowed his body to sink into a creeping state of drowsiness, and for a few moments enjoyed the sensation of dozing off. It was a sensation akin to numbness, as if his hands and feet were melting away. This was not the same as sleeping late, nor was it time for a midday nap. Noda liked to call it a catch-up snooze.

The telephone was ringing. Somewhere between waking and sleep, Noda stretched out his hand to pick up the receiver. He may only have been doing it in a dream; the telephone may not actually have been ringing in the first place. It was no longer even clear that he was in his own office.

Tatsuo. Tatsuo.

Someone was calling him. A distant voice began to seep into his mind. A woman’s voice. Not his secretary’s voice, nor that of any female employee.

Who is it? Who is it? asked Noda. Hello? Hello? Who is it?

Had his voice reached the other person? It seemed to have drifted off emptily into space. The woman at the other end was calling him again, more urgently now. Pitifully so.

Who is it? Who are you?

But Noda knew who it was. Ah. Such a familiar voice. Yes, it’s her voice. That girl. What was her name again?

It’s Paprika! Help me! Help me, please!

That’s it. Paprika! The girl I adore. She must be in my dreams again. It sounds as if she’s suffering because she can’t wake up. I’ll have to go and help her.

Where are you, asked Noda. Shinjuku Station, in my dream, answered Paprika.

Shinjuku Station, in her dream. How can I get there? If only I could think of a way, I think I could go there immediately. How can I get there, he asked. How can I get there.

Don’t wake me. Don’t force me to wake up. Come and join me inside my dream. With a DC Mini. Please. Please.

Please. Please. Noda woke with Paprika’s words still echoing dreamily in his ears. He was sitting at his desk and had his phone pressed against his ear. All he could hear was the distant, continuous tone of a disconnected call. She must have hung up. Or perhaps there had been no phone call in the first place. It had been a dream. The whole conversation had taken place in a dream.

But Noda knew enough about the DC Mini and its functions to realize that he couldn’t ignore his conversation with Paprika, just because it had been in a dream. It had been so clear: Paprika was really asking for his help. Perhaps, due to some foul trickery, she really was unable to wake up, she really was in trouble. What should he do? Shinjuku Station, she’d said. But there would be no point in actually going there. He would have to use a DC Mini and go to help her in her dream. Something he’d previously mentioned in jest was now coming true. The DC Minis were in her apartment. He had to get there. Noda stood up.