One day I noticed a young girl dressed in a pale white dress standing in an alleyway between two mighty skyscrapers. The entrance was blocked off by several misshapen planks of wood, and the further you progressed down the alley it the darker it got. This didn’t seem like an appropriate place for a little girl to be playing, so I called out to her in the politest Japanese I could muster “Hey, you probably shouldn’t be in there.” She turned to me and smiled. “I found something,” she said. My thoughts immediately turned dark as I began to wonder about what kind of thing you would find in a dark alleyway. Against my better judgment I decided to see what she had found. It struggled to push aside the heavy wooden boards blocking my path, wishing I were a child as well so I could slip under them like I assumed she had. I managed to squeeze through without incident, and went to see what the girl had found. I was expecting to find a dead body or something, but fortunately spotted no copses. “What is it?” I asked her, not spotting anything amiss. “Look,” she said pointing at what I thought was just the wall. But then I looked a little harder and saw what she had found. There was an indentation in the shape of a large rectangle. I touched the wall and found it to be cold to the touch. It was metal. As I looked more closely at the indentations I realized I was looking at a set of double doors, doors that seemed to have been unused for a long time. Yet I saw no knobs or handles. Then I noticed a small panel next to the doors with a single white button. An elevator. “Well, this is certainly strange,” I remarked, looking down at the girl. She looked back at me and giggled slightly. “Press it,” she said with a sudden enthusiasm, pointing at the button. Her suggestion only drove my initial curiosity further, and I pressed it. It lit up with a soft white glow, contrasting strongly with the dark alleyway. After a few seconds of waiting, I heard a familiar ding and the doors slid open, revealing a set of pale green walls. The elevator looked untouched by time, as if had never been used before. The walls were spotless; the metal frame was polished to a perfect shine. It was almost eerily perfect in every way. “I don’t know about this,” I said aloud, looking down for the girl only to notice she was gone. I quickly looked down the alley to try and spot her only to see a familiar figure in white running off into the darkness laughing. “Wait!” I yelled out to her, but she had already disappeared, the darkness seeming to have swallowed her. Suddenly, I was a bit unnerved to be alone in a dark alley like I was. The irrational fear of the dark I had carried with me since I was a child with was beginning to take control of my mind. Then I heard growling coming from out of that darkness. With my head spinning paranoid thoughts of some monster coming bursting out of the dark abyss and crushing my head, I panicked and ran inside the elevator. I immediately felt safer in the small, well lit environment. I looked over at the wall panel, yet I was a bit surprised at my lack of options. Though the panel had room for plenty of buttons, there was only one. Next to it was a tiny embossed label with a number that felt familiar to me. “108.” At that point I had begun to consider my options. I could run out of here screaming, tear down the alley and hope some demon didn’t catch up to me as I was maneuvering those boards out of my way again, or I could press this lonely button and see where the elevator took me. Looking out of my little safe room into the darkness outside I decided to stick with the latter choice. I might end up in some board room or janitor’s closet, but I was sure if I apologized profusely for my actions I could probably get out of the building without the police being called. With a deep breath, I pressed the button, and watched as the doors slid closed. About a few seconds after I began my ascent the idea of riding an elevator that had probably been without maintenance for several years struck me as a bit unsafe. It was a long ride to the top, and every time I heard a creak I prayed for the cable not to snap. I began to wonder about what I would do if the elevator got trapped between floors. I entertained the thought of opening the maintenance hatch and climbing the cable to safety, but I knew I was no action hero. I would most likely die of dehydration. Then several years later a maintenance crew would pry open the doors and find an old withered skeleton clutching a Gameboy. One of them would steal the money out of my wallet, find my ID, and some government official break the news to my parents that their stupid gaijin son had died in an old abandoned elevator he had no business being in. I starting praying harder. Luckily I arrived at the elevator stop without incident. The doors slid back open and sunlight streamed in. I stepped out of the elevator and put my hand over my eyes to shield them from the sun. I was suddenly faced with an open blue sky, a few wispy clouds scattered about and some birds flying overhead. I was on the roof. I started scanning the rooftop looking for a way back down. I didn’t see a stairway or ladder anywhere; it seemed the only way to the roof was the elevator. I sighed, realizing I’d soon be taking that death elevator back down to the alleyway of more death. I knew it was stupid to be afraid, but some primal terror still held me in its grasp. I then spotted what seemed to be a maintenance shed. I felt a little bit more hopeful. Maybe I could find a friendly maintenance worker who knew another way off the roof. As I reached the old grey shed, I noticed a tiny scrap of paper on the red door. It read simply “Café M.” This was the only clue that something special lay behind those doors. I was bit puzzled at first, but I forgot about all that and turned the knob while pushing through the doorway. "Irasshaimase konnichiwa!" I jumped, startled. I turned to the source of the friendly greeting and found a young Japanese women dressed in a yellow waitresses uniform. Her hair was long, and dark like her eyes, and she had a bit of makeup on that accentuated her features. “Um… konichiwa,” I responded politely, still a bit taken aback. I surveyed my surroundings and realized I was in a café. The walls were all painted yellow, and there was a tiny table over in the corner. Though the place couldn’t have been bigger than my bathroom, it still seemed quite comfortable. The waitress gestured for me to sit down and I did. I almost thought to ask her about why there was a tiny little café hidden on the roof of an office building that you could only reach by taking an elevator hidden in a dark alleyway, but by the time I figured out how to put all that into a coherent sentence she had already put a menu down in front of me. “Coffee –
450 Yen Admittedly the menu wasn’t much, but I doubted they could do much else with little more than a coffee pot, toaster and mini fridge. “I’ll have toast and some coffee,” I told her. She smiled and returned to her little counter to complete my order. I still wasn’t sure what to think about the situation, so I turned back to my thoughts of that dark alley. Surely what I had heard was a dog or something. For all I knew I hadn’t heard a thing, maybe my mind was just playing tricks on me. Still, I wanted to stay in this café for a while, I wasn’t ready to go back to that alleyway just yet. After a few minutes of taking in the décor of this tiny establishment, and entertaining the thought of forcing small talk with the waitress, my order was brought over to my table and placed in front of me. My first thought was “she put way too much butter on my toast” but then I noticed something else. I looked down at the teapot and saw what I originally thought to be a regular coaster under it. But then I looked a little harder and realized it was in actuality a disc of some sort. Puzzled, I moved the teapot, picked up the disc and softly read the label aloud. “The Document of Metal Gear Solid 2.” “Excuse me, but what is this?” I asked turning around. I stopped suddenly. Standing above me was a man I immediately recognized from numerous magazine clippings and gaming websites. A man I had admired for many years. A man who was only adding to the confusion and absurdity of the situation. But yet, here he was. Kojima. “I deeply apologize that there’s no pitcher for the cream. We were all out so I had to run over to the store to get a fresh carton. Please pardon this inconvenience,” he said to me. He waited for my response. I was a bit shaken. In front of me stood Hideo Kojima, the producer and main force behind Metal Gear Solid, and Zone of the Enders, and <b>Policenauts</b>. The vice president of Konami himself, here in this tiny little café hidden on the roof of an office building that—well, you get the picture. “Er… it’s quite alright… I was just wondering about this,” I said holding up the disc. I knew my question about the disc had sense been replaced with about a thousand other questions, but it was the first one that popped into my head. He let out a single “Ha.” “Don’t worry about that, just go home and watch it some time, I think you might enjoy it.” I wasn’t sure if Hideo Kojima understood that I was a bit unnerved to be in his presence. He must’ve seen the look of complete shock on my face, but it seemed he chose to ignore it. “Thanks…” I responded, feeling completely nervous in front of a man who’s work I admired so much. Kojima smiled, satisfied with our conversation. “Now then, If you’ll excuse me, I have an urgent mission to undertake. It seems a group of terrorists have seized a Japanese military installation outside of Korea. I’ve been called in to neutralize the threat.” “You’re joking right?” I asked, grinning at what seemed like a clever reference to his previous works. If he had been trying to break the mood it had worked, but it seemed I was wrong. Kojima suddenly looked at me with an intense seriousness. “If I fail this mission, it could mean the start of World War III” he said, not with anger, just with determination. I suddenly got the impression he wasn’t joking. He could tell I wanted to know more, and without any provocation he pulled out two shiny metal guns. Revolvers to be exact, each polished to a fine perfection, flawless in every way. A certain silver haired antagonist came to mind as he held them in front of me for a closer inspection. The way they reflected my face was almost beautiful. “These are my only comrades,” he said, sounding almost like a line out of a cheesy Western. But the way he said it, it meant so much more. These simple revolvers were hardly suitable for the type of task he seemed to be preparing himself for. But suddenly, he stopped looking so serious and grinned. But they’re all I need” he said smiling. For a second, I thought maybe he was crazy, but looking at his confident grin, I somehow got the feeling he could pull it off. “Is that all you’re bringing with you?” I asked, trying to bring attention to the fact that a middle aged Japanese game developer armed with a pair of revolvers didn’t seem like a properly outfitted mercenary. But Kojima just nodded knowingly at my question as if he had known it was coming long before I had asked it. Like a kindly old grandfather smiling at the question of a wide-eyed child, he grinned warmly at me, pointed at his bandana, and spoke some very familiar words. “Unlimited Ammo.” I was a bit surprised at his demeanor in light of the task he faced, but when I saw that smile of his my surprise turned into understanding. I didn’t need to ask him if he was afraid, I already knew this man had just as many fears as any normal man. But courage is not being without fear, courage is standing up to these fears and facing them without hesitation. Just looking at him I knew he had no thoughts of failure, and his confidence was inspiring. I thought again about taking that old elevator back down to that dark alleyway, and suddenly I felt no more dread. If a middle aged Japanese game developer could stand in front of his fears with such courage, such conviction, then a young American exchange student could do the same, and maybe… Well maybe there’s hope for us all. I turned back to my coffee and didn’t look back. I knew Kojima was already gone, possibly forever. But I didn’t have time to think about that, I was a new man. I picked up my cup of coffee and looked deep into the darkness within. Then, with no hesitation, I took a small sip. And I smiled, knowing everything was going to be alright. The coffee was a bit bitter though. |
