All language subtitles for Map.of.the.Sounds.of.Tokyo.2009.m720p.Bluray.x264.Ac3-5.1-bebos123.Forced

Do we really have to?

Eat sushi hot
on the navel of a woman?

If we sign the agreement,
yes, we have to

In short, it would be good to do.

You know you love this place.

They love all that is vulgar and free.

Nevertheless, in spite of the alcohol
carried in my body,

I might as well be at the zoo
eating hot dogs.

We have to fit into the idea
they have of us, Nagara-san.

Within half an hour
they'll be so be drunk

if you go they will not notice.

We'll stay with them.

There must be another way
of doing business.

There is.

But it is not profitable.

Yes? Hello?

Why?

What am I doing here?

Why didn't anyone tell me?

Why?

This smell of fish will never go away.

There is no day that does not
recall the breathing of Ryu,

nor a day that does not miss its silence

When I met her she was

called Ryu.

I later learned that she had
other names...

Keiko, Momoyo, Yuri.

But Ryu, I'm almost certain,

was her real name.

We met

Sunday afternoon
in the Ramen Museum.

I said I liked
the sound it made

to sip the soup

It reminded me of
the way my mother did.

Would you let me record
the sound you make?

It's what I do.

How I make my living.

Really you make a living like that?

Yes

Recorded sounds
for a sound studio,

for radio, television, videos,

sometimes...

some movies.

So you also record people sniffling?

Of course, I thought,

but that day

we started to be friends.

I did not know

that I would be her only friend.

From that moment

we often met in little
local bars and eateries

near the market where she worked.

One day I asked
why work there.

He said it was the only

that prevented him from thinking too much.

That was

the closest thing to a confidence
I got it.

Most times we only
her company while we ate.

Sometimes, when she was
in a good mood, she let me

record our lengthy conversations
about nothing in particular.

Do you have something to do on Sunday?

On Sunday?

Yes, on Sunday.

Why are you always
making plans?

And why you do not plan ever?

What do you know -
I make plans.

Never tell me none.

Why should I tell you?

She never told me if she was an
only child or had a brother,

if her parents were still alive.

If she had good grades
at school.

If she had read "War and Peace".

If she believed in God or something.

If when she saw an old woman
the street

had she suddenly wondered

how was she at my age.

If she had suffered.

If she was in love.

After a while,

I stopped asking.

Nagara-san...

Midori also...

was my life.

Today is kissing day!

A kiss is the best medicine!

3, 2, 1,

Kiss!

Finish!

Some things occured to me.

That I knew she had insomnia.

She was crazy about strawberry
sticky rice cakes.

That she was so brave
but yet feared people.

That she always believed she would die young.

One of the things that we
often did together,

was visiting cemeteries
on Sundays.

I followed her

while she
sought certain tombs

and devoted herself conscientiously
to clean the tombstones.

She never told me
who owned the graves.

I did not ask.

The silence which prevails in
a cemetery in the summer

is unlike any other
silence in the world.

We never interrupted
this silence.

Nagara-san,

Do you want to see the bathroom?

No.

WHY COULDN'T YOU TELL ME HOW MUCH
YOU LOVED ME?

Okay?

I cannot imagine a world
where my daughter is dead

and that man

continues to live.

I find it unbearable,

now she is gone,

the idea that he continue to breathe,

laughing,

eating.

I know I can't do it.

Leave it in my hands.

I'll take care of everything.

She liked music,

but never told me
of any group

or any singer,

or how many versions

of "Someone to Watch Over Me"

she had in her ipod.

I know she went to work
at seven p. m.

and was out to five-thirty
am.

But she knew nothing

that I thought at that time.

She never told me
if at any time

through those long nights, if

at about four o'clock in the morning,
in some strange cold moment,

she felt sick at heart

and did she wonder if it made
sense that she would feel so.

Listening close to her footsteps

and the sound of her breathing

in the solitude of my room

I also wondered.

Hello?

Murakami-san gave me this number.

Yes

I have a photograph and address.

Yes, the first half
in advance.

At seven? Where?

Agreed. I'll be there.

With the first half?
Yes, of course.

Yes

Are we going somewhere else?

Another site? Why?

Excuse me.

- It's my first time...
- I have the tickets.

Welcome.

Thank you very much.

Is this everything.

The money and information.

Agreed.

Do you not want to know why?

- Well, circumstances.
- Circumstances?

Yes

Why do we want that man...

I'm not interested in the circumstances.

No?

How would that change things?

Would I work better
if I knew the details?

No.

I guess not.

There's nothing I want to know.

The only thing that interests me
is whether the picture is recent,

if the address is correct

and if the money has been
counted correctly.

I was wrong.

Well.

When?

When will you do the job?

When possible.

Will you tell me when?

And the other half?

I'll call.

Thank you.

Thank you very much.

Welcome.

Welcome.

Can I help?

Pardon?

When did it happen?

When did Ryu begin

to see something special in him?

When he said he knew

what she was looking for?

Or when he said...
Your money is no good here.

And she felt the heat

of his hand against hers,

which was always cold.

Yes

I wonder what it was that made Ryu

cross the street that night
with a man

whose picture lay in pieces

in her pocket.

Now I know when it was.

It was the first time that
they had laughed together.

That's when it all really began.

You want sticky rice cakes?

Are you sure?

I do not mind
going to buy it for you next door.

Seeing her there so close to me

yet with her thoughts so far

hurt me in a way
difficult to describe.

I never wanted
so desparately

to be somebody else.

Hungry?

What would you like?

Splints hung at the
temple say...

Give me a son,

a husband,

a bride,

a car, money,

fame, happiness,

health.

None of this appealed to Ryu

that day.

Yoshida-san?

I want to talk with Nagara-san,
if possible.

What happened?

Will he be long in the hospital?

I understand.

Pass on my respects.

Please.

See you soon.

Dad!

Dad!

Dad, look at Midori!

Look at Midori!

Ryu has never told me about
the man,

the man in the wine shop.

But since I knew her

I could see another
sparkle in her eyes.

Only silence

was the same.

We are ignoring
the elephant in the room:

The dollar is in free fall

and the world is collapsing
before our eyes.

We can not ignore
we made a mistake

in commissioning these reports
from an American multinational,

reports which, incidentally,
are obscenely expensive.

I require the board offer
some explanation.

Gondo-san, was at this same table
where, six months ago,

all voted in favor
of the proposal.

The company preparing
the report, Waterholmes

has been doing so
for over ten years

without there having been
complaints.

Another important point is that
this company still has Mr Nagara,

as I imagine Gondo-san knows,
80% of the opinion

in the Waterholmes report,
is entirely formed

by Japanese nationals.

Not to be disrespectful,

but if we spend a fortune
on a report because we believe

what experts in the market
tell us. then...

Excuse me.

Nagara-san.

She must have been about seven

when we went
to Ocean Dome in Miyazaki.

Midori was

so happy entering the water,

splashing in her new bathing suit.

She was happy.

Screaming as the waves came.

And suddenly

her face changed completely,
she ran from the water

and sought refuge in her towel.

The trustees are waiting.

On the return trip I asked:
Midori, why are you crying?

were you afraid of the water?

She said:

"No, Dad. I cried...

because I was too happy
and could not stand it. "

Nagara-san, must rest.

I'll take you home.

If you had told her that you loved her,

everything could have been different.

I've never seen

a smile like that smile.

Like that? How?

I don't quite know.

I've never seen a drawing of
a koala in soy sauce.

People change.

We all change.

Things change.

No.

People do not change.

Things might.

But people do not.

No?

No.

Yes?

I told you not to call me.

I know we had a deal.

But deals can be undone.

I'll return all the money
with an extra fifty percent.

These are the rules.

Do not call again.

I told you
not to call back.

Today is the day of wrath!

Liberate

all your stress and anger!

3, 2, 1...

Enrage!

Enough!

Finish!

I will refund you.

I said I would take the job but
now I'm saying no.

Will you go to the police?

Listen, I'm offering to
return the money

plus 50 per cent
for breach of contract.

Nobody will force me to do
something that I will not do.

Do you hear? Nobody.

Why don't you shut up?
Shut the hell up!

He called me stupid.

Idiot?

Asshole.

I loved her.

She loved no one.

That's because we will never know, right?

No. I guess not.

Sometimes I wonder

if Ryu would have liked if
I did something for her.

If, eventually she would have asked

have asked

for something more than

my silent company.

I know there are voices
lingering from the Edo period

trapped in the dark spots
between buildings in Tokyo.

Perhaps the words are different,

but Ryu was right

when she said
that people never change.

Nagara-San, it's David.

I just want to say
I'm going to leave Japan.

I know that you do not want
to hear from me anymore,

I blame myself for

Midori's death,

but I want you to know

I loved your daughter.

Bye.

Days after the death of Ryu,

the market reopened
to tourists.

For its part,

the workers forgot
little by little what had happened,

although no one really knew

what had actually happened.

I try not to think about how
different things could have been

the things between us all,

because now it is too late.

Maybe it was too late

from the beginning.

I know Ryu would have
liked to know that David,

when he returned to Barcelona,

spent some time without knowing

who he was or where he was,

thinking only about
the long-haired girl

who liked strawberry sticky
rice cakes.

Later,

he opened a store for
Japanese products

where every Friday
he had tastings of sake.

- David, you coming?
- Be right there.

David longed for another life.

But he kept in his heart

a secret room shaped like
a train carriage

where Ryu always waited for him.