Fictosexuals in Japan band together fight discrimination

Over four years ago, the media in Japan and globally went bananas about a Japanese man who “married” a virtual character.

These stories are catnip to editors who love “sexless Japan” and “wacky Japan” content. The tale of Akihiko Kondo and his love for popular Vocaloid idol Hatsune Miku was too much to resist, and the world lapped it up.

For little discernible reason, Kondo (who is now 40) is back in the news.

The Mainichi Shimbun sat down for a fresh interview with him and find out how his “marriage” is going. (The newspaper also published a follow-up story in January 2022.) Apparently, Kondo is still committed to his marriage (or method acting), calling out the typical Japanese greetings to his “wife” when he returns home in the evenings and wishing her a good morning when he rises on a new day.

In a desperate bid to justify this clickbait, the Mainichi have tried to connect Kondo’s story with the wider societal phenomenon of fictosexuals — the scientific term for a paraphilia (fetish) in which the person is attracted to fictional characters.

According to a 2017 survey, 10% of male and female students in Japan from junior high school to university said they have had romantic feelings for a character in anime or game franchises. And if you’re struggling to get laid at college in Japan, it might be because 17.1% of your female cohorts are apparently in love with a fictional character.

“It is not unusual for people to develop affection for characters,” pronounces a sociologist quoted in the article who has been researching the issue since the 1990s.

And it seems that we need to get more woke about fictosexuality, because though other sexual minorities have enjoyed greater tolerance, the likes of Akihiko Kondo still suffer from discrimination and prejudice.

“I can’t count the number of times I’ve been told, ‘It’s disgusting’ or ‘You’re sick.’ I can’t help it if people say they are offended by the way I spend time with a character,” Kondo bemoans.

Well, the fictosexuals strike back.

Last month, Kondo and his peers launched the Association of Fictosexuality to hold meetings, exchange views, and expand public understanding. It aims to be a “place of comfort” for fictosexuals. And no doubt to provide reporters with an easy pool of ready interviewees whenever the next wacky Japan article is needed.

“I would like society to become a place where people can easily hold weddings with their beloved characters as a milestone in their lives,” Kondo is quoted as saying.

“There are many people connected to this issue who are having a hard time,” the sociologist continues. “We believe it’s necessary to call for social consensus against discrimination and prejudice toward minorities.”

The truth is that Kondo suffered rejection from real women — he reportedly told seven women over the years that he loved them but they all rejected him — and bullying at work. He sought refuge in a virtual idol while he was off work. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that (and healthier than drugs or booze!) and he’s not harming anyone, but should we be celebrating and sentimentalizing this life choice like the Mainichi and others do?

Here at Tokyo Kinky, we never mock anyone’s fetish or choice. To each their own. However, it seems to us, armchair shrinks that we are, that there are other issues in his life that Kondo is compensating for by “marrying” Hatsune Miku. And we reckon that’s the real story here, which the Mainichi interview hints at but never seems to really tackle head on, seemingly intent rather on not offending anyone.

In a moment of either clear-eyed realism or a chilling revelation of cognitive dissonance, Kondo openly remarks that “I don’t think Miku has any human rights.” Does that mean she doesn’t have to consent?