A Letter

Hikikomori – Kioshi Masayuki 2077

A Voice June 21, 2026

Many people don’t understand the pressure of living in an overcrowded city. When I was in Tokyo I didn’t leave my house for 13 years.

I was born in Utashinai in Japan in 2046. My father keeps talking about how this city was a great place, especially for the miners, but I can’t relate to it. When I was 15 my Dad got a job in Tokyo and he left. My mother and I joined him 3 years later.

When we arrived in Tokyo, my first concern was the rowdiness of the city. There were so many people and it was so noisy. It was as though everything was spinning in circles around me. Taking a step outside my house felt like walking into an entirely new world. It made me feel dizzy and lost. There were always people walking but nobody noticed anyone else. Tokyo was a big city, with about 15 million people but ironically it still felt very lonely for many of us. Everything was happening all at once. I had that dizzy feeling every time I stepped out of the house. I was afraid of the streets, school and just being out there with people. You might think I was the only one. I used to think so too until my Dad told me there were about a million of us who could not step out in public because of this same fear. We were called Hikikomori.

Every day I’d take in a piece of the city from my window and then stay indoors all day again. People asked me how I managed to enjoy the same view for over 10 years. I can’t tell how it happened but it was better than immersing myself in the disorder of the city. My parents were actually ashamed of my fear, so they helped to hide me at home. They couldn’t tell their friends that I was indoors – no school, no job. I was a liability in their house. I did what I could; I cleaned and tried to give them their space. My mother bought a phone for me and I spent more time playing video games than anything else on Network 2.0. We had many nice games on Dev 1.0. It was my escape from an overcrowded city.

Naturally, my parents were worried about me. My father kept talking about the 80-50 problem. He kept asking me who would take care of me when they get really old. To be honest, I never thought about it. I just wanted to get through each day without thinking of the future. All those things made me anxious because I didn’t know where to start to make a living. I didn’t have any certificate or skill. I was already 30 when my dad asked me about this new option called Dev 2.0. I had made my way around Dev 1.0 before the dark web invasion. It was my daily escape. Maybe that’s why I didn’t get bored sitting at home all those years. He promised to help me get the best version of it if I gave the Hidamari Collective a try.

The Hidamari are a small NGO that helped people like me – Hikikomoris – have a chance to transition back to normal life. They were very patient and really nice. They didn’t come for sessions with mobile phones, so they connected on a very personal and human level with me. It was the first time anyone had noticed me, apart from my parents. They took me for walks in areas that didn’t have so many people. We would drive all the way in a tinted car and then I would only come out when we get to the location. I had gone for about 8 sessions before my 31st birthday. On my birthday, my Dad surprised me with a brand new MaDe device.

I’ve heard a lot of stories about Dev but I don’t know if people understand how this has helped people like me. I was able to choose the body I wanted. I could design my face, my hair, my height, every little detail. Yes, maybe part of the reason I never stepped out was that I felt I was not good-looking. Nobody cares about inner beauty. It doesn’t show on a Network profile or in a picture. If most of my friends on the Network had seen me in real life, I’m certain they wouldn’t talk to me.

But here on Dev, I could be myself and pick a body I wanted. I could choose to be any of the 4 gender options available. I could even choose to be undefined. It’s amazing that people have thought about giving us options that help us build confidence. I’ve been here for a few months and it’s amazing. I’ve grown. It’s an experience that I never want to end. It feels so good that I’m tempted to believe it will come to an end. For once, I’m thinking about the future because all the tiny issues that plagued me on a daily basis have melted into thin air. Nobody asks for a certificate or skills or anything here. We are all equal. Just human and that’s all that matters. No countries, religion, race or gender issues. I feel like I’ve become a global citizen here. Like every good thing, people must oppose it because some people’s happiness comes from knowing they are better than others. They can’t have it here, so they don’t want others to be free to have this happiness. Life is really not as difficult as we made it on earth. I’m happy here and I don’t see myself going back to that loneliness and isolation that defined me on earth.

My name literally means quiet happiness and that’s what I experience here. I’ve found my own sunshine here and can finally be Kioshi Mayasuki and not a Hikikomori.