I must have heard that phrase ten times.

I wasn’t looking for sex though. I was looking for food. I vaguely remembered Anthony Bourdain visiting and read that Shinjuku had the most restaurants.

I passed through Kabukicho in my search—the biggest red light district in Japan. The streets are filled with men enticing people with sex. They follow you around for a while. Only one man gave directions to food. It’s annoying. Just as annoying as Japanese girls selling stuff with that “cute” nasal squeal .

But like their potential customers, I was single, tired, and lonely. I just got off the plane and it was my first time travelling truly alone.

Much of the Japanese economy survives under the search for human warmth. Both Japanese men and women see relationships as a hassle, resulting in low birth and marriage rates. So many compensate with drinking, sex, and lots of weird stuff…

My closest experience would be at a foot massage place in Guangzhou. No happy endings. It’s just that cheap tacky semi-traditional Chinese private massage rooms feel sketch. I couldn’t eat the complimentary food there. It didn’t bother my distant cousin though, as I tried not to offend him.

The massage felt… ticklish. I’m too ticklish… Then it felt painful. And as she worked on my feet, I looked to see what she was doing and noticed her cleavage. Then I looked up—awkwardly, until she fixed it. Her hands were calloused from the work. I felt bad knowing how much we were paying. I wish I knew how she felt. Is she happy doing this? Or am I seeing her as a victim? I’d imagine Kabukicho would be much the same.

70% of Kabukicho is owned by the Yakuza. The other 30% pays shohadai, forced “rent” for the Yakuza to protect the store. Basho means place and dai means money. Instead of bashodai, they twist the words so most people don’t understand.

The Yakuza used to mind their own business, but recently, it’s been all about money. Much of that money is made in red light districts, selling services in an attempt to overcharge you and threaten you with debt. That isn’t even the worst part .

But beyond the danger, there’s a loss closer to home. Some of my friends say relationships are a hassle too. But I think, for most people, it’s scary. It’s scary putting your heart out and believing. You could hurt. What I’m more scared of is missing out on the warmth of love. Otherwise, there’s that void.

There’s a Japanese word for the feeling of grief or loneliness so strong that it always comes back. The feeling you forget after a while, but every so often you feel that emptiness. It never goes away, it just hides under the covers of life until it appears again.

Yarusenai.

Something the Japanese know too well.