A case of kitty chaos
Ikebukuro is full of stories. At times, it becomes nearly impossible to untangle one from the rest, so entwined are the lives of the people who live within the city’s limits. But there is one thread which has stood out lately, which disguises itself as multiple threads. These threads have not made their way to any major news outlet, so rooted in their insignificance that the journalists overlook the potential for a story. They manifest, instead, in the shadows of urban legends, fed by circumstantial evidence and imaginary links.
There have been incidents in a certain block of Ikebukuro. They have occurred on the street, in front of the businesses and behind them, and there are incidents isolated farther away that people believe to be linked. Mostly, there are rumors of disappearances. Then there are rumors of shadowy encounters, late at night. “A monster,” they say. “There’s a monster. It comes out when the shops are closed. If you’re alone, watch out! Don’t go into the alleyways. And if you hear something, don’t go after it.”
On this street, there is a cat cafe. This cafe is one of two cafes, run by a young man who comes from Nagoya. His story: he moved here to be closer to a friend and support him at university. Also, he really wants to spread his chawanmushi. It’s his boss’s legacy, which he chooses to carry forward into the future, so that he can make others happy. He’s well-trained in many dishes, but chawanmushi is his passion, specifically. He’s been here for some time, which allows certain regulars to get acquainted with him. And they’ve learned certain things about Jungo Torii.
One is that he is quiet. He’s not good at making conversation, but he always listens. You can tell. Two is that he is selfless to a fault. Of course, he knows that he has to run a business, so it’s not like everything on his menu is free. But he likes to give out treats, encourage people who are downhearted, and provide a roof and warm food when it’s raining out. Three, he really loves his cats and takes the utmost care of them, as well as the one other employee who works with him. And four…
He can see things.
Jungo Torii is a fairly reliable source for when it’s going to rain later. Maybe not in three days, but in the morning? Later in the evening? He knows. Come into his restaurant without making a sound? He has an idea. Got a ghost on your shoulder? He’ll give it funny looks. Are there false alarms? Probably. Jungo is neither an exorcist nor an esper. There’s no way to verify these things with him, because he’s just a chef.
But he knows about the rumors. They float into his shop, because they originate in the area where he works and lives. And they strike him as dangerous. So he often tells his customers, before closing, to be careful. He recommends them to leave early when they can. But the incidents continue, so he instead considers closing a little earlier than usual. He puts a sign up on the door, three weeks early just to make sure.
“If these incidents do not stop by XX/XX, the shop will start closing one hour early!”
There’s one more thing about Jungo Torii. It’s said that he has experiences with demons. Where did this rumor come from, and how? Who can really say? Don’t ask Jungo, because he won’t know. His concern is keeping you fed and happy.
Scene: Sunday morning. The air is humid, shapes fuzzy in the golden mist. Two girls sit at one table, tableware clinking as they chat and giggle over the kittens crawling over their laps, rubbing up against their sides. It’s a slow day, so the other employee is outside, trying to catch people’s attention. And Jungo works away in the kitchen, preparing a serving of chawanmushi. Little Jungo watches him.
