"This I'd like to hear," Haida said.
"At the point when you agree to take on death, you gain an extraordinary capacity. A special power, you could call it. Perceiving the colors that people emit is merely one function of that power, but at the root of it all is an ability to expand your consciousness. You're able to push open what Aldous Huxley calls 'the doors of perception.' Your perception becomes pure and unadulterated. Everything around you becomes clear, like the fog lifting. You have an omniscient view of the world and see things you've never seen before."
"Is your performance the other day a result of that ability?"
Midorikawa gave a short shake of his head. "No, that was just what I've always been capable of. I've played like that for years. Perception is complete in and of itself; it doesn't reveal itself in an outward, concrete manifestation. There are no tangible benefits to it, either. It's not easy to explain in words. You have to experience it to understand. One thing I can say, though, is that once you see that true sight with your own eyes, the world you've lived in up till now will look flat and insipid. There's no logic or illogic in that scene. No good or evil. Everything is merged into one. And you are one part of that merging. You leave the boundary of your physical body behind to become a metaphysical being. You become intuition. It's at once a wonderful sensation and a hopeless one, because, almost at the last minute, you realize how shallow and superficial your life has been. And you shudder at the fact that up to that point you've been able to stand such a life."
"And you think it's worth experience this sensation, even if it means taking on death? And you only have it for a little while?"
Midorikawa nodded. "Absolutely. It's that valuable. I guarantee it."
- Haruki Murakami, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage, p. 97-98