When he opens his front door to his penthouse you realize you had seen him countless times on those wacky Japanese TV shows in the 1990s. He is one of the last holdouts of a lost era of TV hosts from his generation but is still going strong.

He invites you in, hands you a glass of pinot, and you are immediately blinded by the sunlight coming in from the windows. Your eyes slowly adjust and sight of the soft grey walls and wood floors relax you. He shows you over to the balcony and the view of the park makes you feel like you’re in a forest, when in fact you’re in the middle of Harajuku.

His cat, Darling, rushes over and starts rubbing against your legs. The warmth of Darling’s body makes you forget about the insanity that occurred at work that day. You hear a woman’s voice upstairs calling for you two to come up.

You make your way upstairs and out to the rooftop and see her there, playing with an empty glass. She nods her head towards a bottle on the table — “Aren’t you going to pour me a glass?”

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