With a small pin, we spread a map of the southern region of Japan where we both lived, Kansai, loosely onto the wall, the paper still afflicted with creases. I told my cousin to throw the dart, and wherever it landed, we had to go at any cost.
It landed in the middle of nowhere.
On the day we left for Minakuchi City, I brought a camera, a map, and myself. I mulled over the questions that had haunted me for the past few months, preparing them for my cousin’s thoughts.
My cousin is a mysterious person. He’s the kind of person who offers no branches for you to hold onto, and he’s difficult to read. But to discover a person is to discover parts of yourself.
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