world and live entirely in their bedrooms at home. They lock themselves away, they donât get jobs, they donât want to be outside in the real world, or meeting with others. This is a very big problem in Japan. People say it is a kind of Japanese sickness. Hikikomori. Yukio will tell you more about this.â
Mitsuko again wanted his smile before she continued. Yukio flashed her a sign of approval. The others knew immediately that she was speaking of how they had met.
âI was employed by an agency. Hikikomori agency. Parents paid the agency to find ways to get their sons back into the world. For many we were what you call in Englishâthe last resortâ: the parents had tried pets, Shinto priests, bribes, threats.
âI was a very good rental sister â I had a high success rate. The fact that I dressed as a goth Lolita helped, I think. I often began by slipping a photograph of myself beneath the doors to the hikikomori bedrooms, then notes, then gradually I began to speak softly at the door, so softly I could hear the young man drawing closer on the other side. Sometimes it took weeks before the hikikomori spoke in return, or sent a little piece of paper back under the door. I was patient and persistent. I was careful and smart. The guys knew I wasnât just some cute good girl who would normalise or disrespect them.
âI moved into a tiny rented room in Aoyama district, and Aunt Keiko finally had to tell my parents what had happened. They arrived one day to find me sleeping â the rental sister job was mostly nocturnal, as hikikomori are â and I made them tea and sat them down and explained what I was doing. I was not wearing my costume or my black make-up, so I didnât scare them away. I explained I was taking time away from my studies, supporting myself as a âcounsellorâ to disturbed youth, and that I would be staying in Tokyo. My mother wept then kissed me and my father said calmly and softly that I must find my own path. There was no big fuss and no persuading. I write to my parents â the old-fashioned way, with pen and paper â every week. We are still very close. They have met Yukio and like him. They are my perfect, ordinary parents.
âWith my salary I began amassing a collection of books. Other young women bought clothes or went away on group trips. I wanted to keep up my English studies, andI suppose I always knew that I would return to university. At a second-hand bookstore in JinbÅchÅ I discovered the works of Vladimir Nabokov. Of course, it was the title Lolita that at first attracted me. It was hard to believe that something I thought Japanese had derived from a Russian man living in America. I felt stupid not knowing. But I remember that I wasnât really interested in the Lolita girl Dolores Haze, and Humbertâs obsessions, to be honest, werenât a surprise to me. We have salarymen in Tokyo a lot like Humbert Humbert, the âpanting maniacâ. It was the writing and the image patterns, it was the unusual vocabulary, it was the peculiar, vivid way he knew about secret inner lives.
âWhen I first began, I could not read Nabokov without a Japanese translation and a dictionary: he is a difficult writer, even for English speakers, I think? But the work was also a wonderful challenge. I felt that as a goth Lolita I should know this book, and slowly developed my skills and moved on to the others. I love the stories most of all. They are all so sad and beautiful. Characters sob a lot. Characters are often Russian men and insecure and have very troubled souls.
âAfter I rescued Yukio â you have guessed he was a hikikomori? â my life completely changed. He had money he made through selling stories online â he will tell you about this â and we began to live and travel together. I ceased being a goth Lolita; somehow it didnât seem necessary anymore. Somehow I lost interest. First we went to
Mitsuko again wanted his smile before she continued. Yukio flashed her a sign of approval. The others knew immediately that she was speaking of how they had met.
âI was employed by an agency. Hikikomori agency. Parents paid the agency to find ways to get their sons back into the world. For many we were what you call in Englishâthe last resortâ: the parents had tried pets, Shinto priests, bribes, threats.
âI was a very good rental sister â I had a high success rate. The fact that I dressed as a goth Lolita helped, I think. I often began by slipping a photograph of myself beneath the doors to the hikikomori bedrooms, then notes, then gradually I began to speak softly at the door, so softly I could hear the young man drawing closer on the other side. Sometimes it took weeks before the hikikomori spoke in return, or sent a little piece of paper back under the door. I was patient and persistent. I was careful and smart. The guys knew I wasnât just some cute good girl who would normalise or disrespect them.
âI moved into a tiny rented room in Aoyama district, and Aunt Keiko finally had to tell my parents what had happened. They arrived one day to find me sleeping â the rental sister job was mostly nocturnal, as hikikomori are â and I made them tea and sat them down and explained what I was doing. I was not wearing my costume or my black make-up, so I didnât scare them away. I explained I was taking time away from my studies, supporting myself as a âcounsellorâ to disturbed youth, and that I would be staying in Tokyo. My mother wept then kissed me and my father said calmly and softly that I must find my own path. There was no big fuss and no persuading. I write to my parents â the old-fashioned way, with pen and paper â every week. We are still very close. They have met Yukio and like him. They are my perfect, ordinary parents.
âWith my salary I began amassing a collection of books. Other young women bought clothes or went away on group trips. I wanted to keep up my English studies, andI suppose I always knew that I would return to university. At a second-hand bookstore in JinbÅchÅ I discovered the works of Vladimir Nabokov. Of course, it was the title Lolita that at first attracted me. It was hard to believe that something I thought Japanese had derived from a Russian man living in America. I felt stupid not knowing. But I remember that I wasnât really interested in the Lolita girl Dolores Haze, and Humbertâs obsessions, to be honest, werenât a surprise to me. We have salarymen in Tokyo a lot like Humbert Humbert, the âpanting maniacâ. It was the writing and the image patterns, it was the unusual vocabulary, it was the peculiar, vivid way he knew about secret inner lives.
âWhen I first began, I could not read Nabokov without a Japanese translation and a dictionary: he is a difficult writer, even for English speakers, I think? But the work was also a wonderful challenge. I felt that as a goth Lolita I should know this book, and slowly developed my skills and moved on to the others. I love the stories most of all. They are all so sad and beautiful. Characters sob a lot. Characters are often Russian men and insecure and have very troubled souls.
âAfter I rescued Yukio â you have guessed he was a hikikomori? â my life completely changed. He had money he made through selling stories online â he will tell you about this â and we began to live and travel together. I ceased being a goth Lolita; somehow it didnât seem necessary anymore. Somehow I lost interest. First we went to
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