At a village fair, kids strike odd matches and a chalk-drawn door suddenly swings open—spilling Tokyo subway commuters into the crowd, all convinced they’ve found “just another new exit.”

SYNOPSIS:

A noisy rural fair. Vendors yell prices while an old parrot mindlessly repeats market ads. Behind a shed, boys light tiny firecrackers with a box of odd black-glow matches. The last, damp match finally catches—and a chalk-drawn door on the wall shivers.

Click. It swings open from the other side. A stream of Tokyo subway commuters spills out, blinking—then behaving as if nothing is strange: buying apples and cotton candy, asking for vending machines, grumbling about “yet another new exit with no signage.”

The crowd freezes, then bursts into laughter and applause. A boy shouts, “Mom, we have a subway now!” The door slowly shuts by itself, leaving only chalk dust. The parrot drones: “Next stop—your wallet,” and returns to its ads. The world has shifted by a hair, but life rolls on as if it always had.