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A woman with purple hair sits in the waiting room on the platform at Nerima Station, surrounded by salarymen who look exhausted from their workday. Nearby, a private security guard herds four friends wearing matching floral-print pants and light-up shoes toward a line. An assortment of middle-aged workers and high school students weave through the swarm of 20-somethings downing cans of chu-hi to catch their trains.

“I just want to have a new experience,” a young man in a pink shirt tells me. He has chosen the right place.

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