There is no time here
and no space now.
Not anymore...
But that's not all.
You and I have lost our identities
and become just anyone.
Not just anyone, but you —
for whom I am just anyone.
And you — just anyone —
I want to know... whom...?
But I don't know you.
I only know this: you are just anyone,
and you are reading this.
I may be just anyone to you.
But you're not just anyone to me.
So I write to you —
my messages in a bottle,
on the electronic ocean...
What does it matter who is speaking?
Someone said it.
What does it matter who is speaking?
I cannot admit this.
Let just anyone misunderstand this denpa
because The Purloined Letter may be misdelivered.
Even if I am misunderstood,
even if the author dies,
I'll become a ghost waiting for you.
At this café, while waiting...