Tokyo arcade takes gaming to another level

Zara Sekhavati

This week’s winner: enters a neon world of noise and prolonged childhood

Electronic sounds pulsate through my body. I feel as though my insides are vibrating. My eyes squint as luminous pinks, greens and yellows strobe across the video arcade in the neon neighbourhood of Akihabara, central Tokyo.

On the bottom floor are the crane crankers: young men with loosened ties have rushed here straight from work. It is crammed with crane machines stuffed with smiling pieces of sushi and Pikachus. Their incessant tapping of buttons fills my eardrums, their foreheads pressed against the glass, desperation in their eyes.

On the next level are the coin pushers: men on the hunt for anime characters in plastic boxes. They moan and groan as they fall short of their trophies.

Another lift up reveals the card collectors: a group of men playing with Pokémon cards in a corner. They shout and applaud as they strike one down. There is so much noise here for a people often stereotyped as being quiet and reserved.

On the next level are the car drivers: short men with puny legs reaching for the brakes. A hand grips the steering wheel while the other makes sweaty marks on the gear stick. The men swerve abruptly to the left

and right in the hard plastic seats, following the direction of the animated vehicle on the big, bright screen in front of them.

One floor up are the virtual guitarists: teenagers banging on illuminated buttons that act as strings. Sleeves rolled up, they follow the rapid movements of the musical instrument on the flashing monitor opposite them. Their thin but tough fingers are skilful as they dance on the buttons. Occasionally their right hand smothers all of them, sweeping the entire row from one side to the other in

The men are on the hunt for anime characters in plastic boxes

one go. A clicketyclack racket ensues. Do they play real guitars at home?

The top floor is encased in cigarette smoke. It’s hot and the air-conditioning doesn’t work. It reeks of sweat and prolonged childhoods. Here is the domain of the dancers and the drum players. This time, young girls are playing. They are dressed in loose vest tops and fluttering miniskirts. Their legs, coated in knee-high socks, stomp on the multi-coloured flashing squares beneath them. Their dainty, delicate appearances don’t match their jolted movements as their sleek, jet-black pigtails spring, twisting and criss-crossing with the rhythm of the thundering music.

Another young man, dressed in a sharp, crisp suit, plays on the taiko drum. His knuckles turn white as he clenches the drum sticks, looking like they are about to burst. Booming sounds follow along with the loud screams of anime music and high-pitched cheers. He hits 100 per cent. He’s won! But it’s not enough: he inserts some yen into the machine and the games begin again.