Somewhere out there, some one thinks you have the 100% perfect ear, or nose, or neck, or some other oddly specific feature. They’d build statues in tribute. You’re maybe too humble to notice when people are enthralled by you, but your obliviousness is sort of endearing.
“Don’t feel sorry for yourself — only assholes do that,” you say when your friends mope too much. Like Midori and Sumire, you’re charismatic and defiant. You don’t mind if your favorite people happen to be bookish loners who rely on you to plan every party, so long as they’re willing to let you into their apartments on a rainy weekday night and hear out your troubles.
Loner Salaryman With Impeccable Tastes
You’re Colorless Tsukuri, and K, and the narrator of “A Wild Sheep Chase.” You’ve decided since a young age that love and deep platonic friendship were not your lot, but actually you’re just choosey about the people you let into your life. Despite being a homebody, you’ve managed to secure the loyal friendship of people much bolder and louder than you. You have impeccable tastes in books and music, and you’re not nearly as uninteresting as you presume yourself to be.
Talking Animal Who Tells Strangers That Their Mothers Don’t Love Them
You’re a talking cat, or the Sheep Man, or the Shinagawa Monkey stealing women’s names and dropping really harsh truth bombs. You’re mostly playful and witty and a lot of fun to be around, a bit mysterious, maybe. Just mind that razor tongue of yours.
Mysterious Artist Who Disappears
You’re Tony Takitani’s dad, a travelling jazz musician, or the Chance Traveller, or maybe you’re secretly a world-class tightrope walker. You’re as mysterious as you are gifted, a charming heartbreaker, impatient with things that bore you. You love your friends, but if you feel like going home, you’d Irish exist your own party.
Foxy Older Mentor Living In A Decrepit Country Inn
You’re Hoshino, or Miu, or Colorless Tsukuru’s older suitor. The world (like Murakami’s novels) seem cluttered with love-lorn twentysomethings wondering if they’ll die alone. You’ll lived and seen enough to remind them that things will work out, that life is long. You’re patient with more inexperienced and neurotic people, who are drawn to your wisdom and unflappability.