It was pouring down rain on Akihabara. The girls dressed as maids had an extra layer of transparent raincoat on, and I was happy to find that basically every shop carries cheap, plastic umbrellas for 500 yen. I was exhausted after a two-week trip around the country by rail, carrying a backpack roughly the size of a refrigerator. My back had a knot in it, I wasn’t sleeping well, and my constant nausea meant the only thing I could put in my stomach that night was a donut and a cup of tea from Mister Donut.
It was 2014, and most people near me couldn’t believe that I’d be traveling Japan alone. The idea seemed to come out of nowhere. I’d never traveled by myself before, it was a rare day that I wasn’t grappling with anxiety, and I’d spent most of my life as an extremely picky eater. I was a homebody, an introvert; hardly the worldly traveler. So what suddenly changed? Why did I make such an effort to see another country?
It was a video game. One that never saw release in North America.
