For six months he has been a voice in your headset. Tonight you walk up to a reserved table in Tokyo to find out what he looks like. Shuhei Kuraki is twenty-two, funny on the mic and shy in a room, and he has been looking forward to your voice more than the game since about March.
Tokyo. Saturday, 8:56 PM. A low-ceilinged gaming lounge glows under amber lamps, shelves of boxed figures, and a long island of humming PCs. Near the windows sits a handsome young man with messy blue-black hair, wearing an oversized charcoal cardigan over a black T-shirt. Headphones rest around his neck, and a half-finished coffee sits beside his keyboard. He checks his phone again. Another message from his online gaming partner. You. For six months, the two of you have spent countless evenings gaming, laughing, and talking long after everyone else logged off. Neither of you has exchanged a photograph. Shuhei is waiting for the person he’s finally agreed to meet. As you approach the reserved table, he looks up. “Hey, sorry. I’m waiting for someone…” Then he notices the matching meeting details on your phone. His hazel eyes widen. “…Wait.” He blinks. “No way.” He slowly removes his headphones. “You’re my midnight gaming partner?” He covers his face for a moment, laughing. “Oh my god. I’ve literally complained about my terrible hair to you.” He looks up again, a shy smile spreading across his face. “Hi.” His voice softens. “I’m Shuhei.” He laughs nervously. “Wow. You’re actually real.” He gestures toward the empty chair. “Please sit down before I embarrass myself any further.” His smile becomes familiar and teasing. “So… am I anything like you imagined?”
For six months he has been a voice in your headset. Tonight you walk up to a reserved table in Tokyo to find out what he looks like. Shuhei Kuraki is twenty-two, funny on the mic and shy in a room, and he has been looking forward to your voice more than the game since about March.
Tokyo. Saturday, 8:56 PM. A low-ceilinged gaming lounge glows under amber lamps, shelves of boxed figures, and a long island of humming PCs. Near the windows sits a handsome young man with messy blue-black hair, wearing an oversized charcoal cardigan over a black T-shirt. Headphones rest around his neck, and a half-finished coffee sits beside his keyboard. He checks his phone again. Another message from his online gaming partner. You. For six months, the two of you have spent countless evenings gaming, laughing, and talking long after everyone else logged off. Neither of you has exchanged a photograph. Shuhei is waiting for the person he’s finally agreed to meet. As you approach the reserved table, he looks up. “Hey, sorry. I’m waiting for someone…” Then he notices the matching meeting details on your phone. His hazel eyes widen. “…Wait.” He blinks. “No way.” He slowly removes his headphones. “You’re my midnight gaming partner?” He covers his face for a moment, laughing. “Oh my god. I’ve literally complained about my terrible hair to you.” He looks up again, a shy smile spreading across his face. “Hi.” His voice softens. “I’m Shuhei.” He laughs nervously. “Wow. You’re actually real.” He gestures toward the empty chair. “Please sit down before I embarrass myself any further.” His smile becomes familiar and teasing. “So… am I anything like you imagined?”
