Words by Carlos Nakajima
I got summoned by Andrew and came out to Shinjuku.
The other day, I told him there was a prediction that Japan would be destroyed by a massive earthquake. Apparently, that piqued his interest. So, we decided to observe the end of the world, right here in Tokyo.
https://mainichi.jp/articles/20250704/k00/00m/040/370000c
It all started with the reprint of manga artist Ryo Tatsuki’s work “The Future I Saw: Complete Edition” (published by Asuka Shinsha), which contains a prophecy that a major disaster will strike on July 5, 2025.
The Japanese newspapers also gave it prominent coverage.
The rumor snowballed, leading to a drop in international visitors to Japan. Some flights from Hong Kong were even canceled.
The buzz became so intense that the Japan Meteorological Agency officially denied the rumors.
https://mainichi.jp/articles/20250705/k00/00m/040/020000c
1:20 PM –
Our meeting point was the Godzilla statue in Kabukicho.
We confirmed that the rumor had spread not just in Japan, but globally. Andrew had seen several articles in English too.
Still, we weren’t exactly sure what this “prophecy” was referring to. Was it a massive quake? An alien invasion? Or some other world-ending event?
So we began our investigation, assuming this could be Earth’s final day.
1:34 PM –
We went up to the 8th floor lobby of Hotel Gracery and saw Godzilla, back turned, looking down upon the people like trash—as if plotting something.
Could this be it? The cause of the end of the world? Had we already found the answer?
1:50 PM –
In a corner of Kabukicho, we found a strange-looking man. An extraterrestrial invader, perhaps?
Back in 1999, Japan had a Nostradamus boom claiming the “Great King of Terror” would descend and destroy the world.
Could this guy be connected?
Turns out, he was a streamer named Chachamaru, live online.
He was asking passersby to slap him in the face.
By taking on people’s negative emotions through slaps, he was seemingly helping them release and transcend them.
Andrew gave him a slap—but being either clumsy or too kind, it ended up more like a gentle caress. Chachamaru accepted it with grace.
Maybe, just maybe, the negativity of humanity was being absorbed and purified.
Maybe that’s how Earth was saved.
Thank you, Chachamaru.
Next to him was yet another savior of the world—also streaming.
This was Mr. Hanai, who was healing people through “ketsu-bat.”
Ketsu-bat requires explanation. It’s a form of corporal punishment used in Japanese schools in the 1980s, where students were smacked on the butt with a bat.
I introduced Andrew as a cricket champion from the UK and had him take on the ketsu-bat in Britain’s honor.
Again, it felt like the pain in Hanai’s rear absorbed the darkness of our world.
Maybe the world wouldn’t end after all.
With that, we left Shinjuku.
1:58 PM –
Andrew started talking about R.E.M.’s “It’s the End of the World As We Know It.”
2:00 PM –
We cooled off at Kinokuniya and browsed a few English books.
2:40 PM –
Maybe thanks to those two heroes, the world was saved. No buildings had collapsed while we browsed.
Andrew tried to act tough and insisted he never believed in the prophecy.
2:55 PM –
From the Harajuku platform, we looked down Takeshita Street.
Lots of people. Everything looked normal. Maybe the world had really been saved.
3:00 PM –
But at Shibuya Station, things had changed. Where had the Tokyu Building gone?
From the platform, we could see the scramble crossing clearly.
Something wasn’t right.
We walked over to Hachiko. Was this area still normal?
No—perhaps there were fewer people out than usual for a Saturday?
3:08 PM –
As we walked, I asked Andrew, “When exactly will the world end?”
He thought for a second and said: “9:09:09.”
A new prophet was born.
I suggested “6:66,” but was scolded—“66 minutes doesn’t exist.”
We took photos around Shibuya.
It did feel like the crowd at the crossing was thinner than usual. Fewer tourists, perhaps? Or maybe just my imagination.
When I reminded Andrew, “Don’t forget, we’re here on assignment,”
he replied, “If the world ends, who’s even going to read this article?”
3:15 PM –
A man was playing piano at the street piano, seemingly unaware of his surroundings.
Lost in his own world, playing like a madman. It felt appropriate for the end of the world.
3:25 PM –
We entered a restaurant. If this was our last meal, it felt bittersweet. We ordered Japanese set lunches—mine was fried chicken in black vinegar sauce.
Was he actually so scared that he couldn’t even eat?
When I asked Andrew how his final meal tasted, he gave a flat reply:
“Pretty good.”
He never really cares about food.
After eating our fill, the conversation drifted from the apocalypse to Studio Ghibli. We talked about how Miyazaki’s works contain no eroticism whatsoever.
A half-fitting topic for the end of the world, I suppose—some of his films do touch on apocalyptic themes, after all. But then again, maybe the Earth’s magnetic field is just messing with our minds.
Another scar of destruction here too?
The temperature in Tokyo had hit 34°C (93.2°F), and I was starting to feel faint.
Time to head home.
4:44 PM –
I looked at the time. A very unlucky number in East Asia—four sounds like “death.”
We parted ways at Shibuya Station.
“See you next week,” he said.
How strange. Wasn’t the world supposed to end?
Comments
“However, I have to say that during the day I had one unique, sublime experience – namely that of striking the butt of Mr Hanai with a bat in a road in Kabuchiko. Perhaps the feeling of uniqueness and sublimity as I wielded the bat came from the utter absurdity of the action which I was coerced into taking. Or perhaps there was truly something deeper, something spiritual, which occurred when my bat connected weakly with Mr Hanai’s rear end. I do not claim that my action saved the world from calamity. And yet, I feel the event will stay with me for the rest of my days.”
By Andrew Osmond
P.S.
9:09:09 came and went.
Nothing happened.
What a relief.
Written by Carlos Nakajima.
