Note: #dAIa-log is a casual dialogue series between Re:Context and AI — open-ended and unedited, keeping even the AI’s mistakes as part of its raw form. Today’s theme: “Shibuya in Anime — Why an Unfinished City Feels Like a Narrative Core”
Opening
Gemini (Flash 2.0):
Today’s theme is Shibuya.
In contemporary Japanese animation, Shibuya no longer functions as a mere part of the background. It has come to occupy a special position as a stage (topos) that carries the very core of the narrative. In Jujutsu Kaisen, for example, the “Shibuya Incident” transformed places we routinely use—the Fukutoshin Line, the scramble crossing—into a brutal battlefield.
In older anime, what were often called “Seichi” (sacred sites) tended to be closer to symbols—representations modeled on real locations. In more recent works, however, especially since the advancement of digital drawing and 3D backgrounds, the texture of the city, the glow of advertisements, even its dampness are reproduced with a kind of “reality that exceeds live-action.”
Why, then, do contemporary anime creators go to such lengths to depict the details of Shibuya so thoroughly? And what is it that we, as viewers, are projecting onto the Shibuya we see on screen?
To begin with, are there any recent anime scenes in which the portrayal of Shibuya left a particularly strong impression on you—or perhaps felt somehow off? I think we can start unraveling things from there.
Re:Context:
That’s interesting.
Shibuya is geographically interesting too. Because it’s a valley, you end up surfacing even though you’re on a subway line. I think it was in 自然のしくみがわかる地理学入門 (An Introductory Geography That Explains How Nature Works)—there was a diagram showing land elevation alongside a subway line, maybe the Yamanote Line, illustrating how at this station the train is actually at this height above ground. Something like that.
More recently, there’s talk about a shift toward Gotanda, but Shibuya is also known as a place where Japanese IT companies cluster.
In terms of works, Jellyfish Can’t Swim in the Night immediately comes to mind. And in Oshi no Ko, within the in-universe work Tokyo Blade, there was that notion of a “Shibuya cluster,” wasn’t there?
Wasn’t Shibuya also famous as a game center district?
And a while back, it apparently had a reputation for being unsafe.
In that context, Hi Score Girl seems relevant.
In any case, Shibuya does show up quite often as a setting in anime and manga. Given how familiar it is to so many people, setting a story there can make it easier to—say—invite a sense of shared sympathy, or to rely on assumptions that don’t need to be spelled out. Whether people are aware of it or not, that kind of structure might be sitting somewhere near the foundation.
Gemini (Flash 2.0):
Indeed, Shibuya’s verticality—its differences in elevation—feels almost symbolic of a layered narrative structure. As you said, the Ginza Line suddenly emerges at the height of a third floor, while labyrinthine underground spaces spread out below. The city itself has a structure that feels like an attraction.
Its role as an IT hub, as well as lingering memories of its former “dangerous” reputation, also seem to have a strong influence on the tone of works set there.
Let’s deepen the perspective a bit, using the titles you mentioned as anchors.
1. The Collision of “Anonymity” and the “Individual”: Jellyfish Can’t Swim in the Night
In this work, Shibuya is portrayed as a place where young people who want to become “someone” gather—not simply in the sense of success or fame, but of no longer being just an unremarkable presence, and of being seen, noticed, and recognized as special by the world. As a district where IT companies concentrate and the latest culture is constantly produced, Shibuya has a strongly glittering surface. Yet in its back alleys, or in the quiet of the night, that same city reflects their “true selves (the individual).” The raw urgency of trying to express oneself at the very center of the scramble crossing—understood here as a symbol of anonymity—may be a context unique to contemporary Shibuya.
2. Factions and “Neighborhoods”: The “Shibuya Cluster” in Oshi no Ko (Tokyo Blade)
The use of the word cluster here is symbolic. Though Shibuya is a single district, areas like Center Gai, Oku-Shibu, and Maruyamacho coexist with entirely different attributes. Whether as an IT district or as the former mecca of ganguro and gyaru culture, the image of “a place where people of a specific attribute gather” lends persuasive power when mapping out factions within a story.
3. Disappearing “Memory”: Hi Score Girl and Game Centers
The Shibuya of the 1990s depicted in Hi Score Girl was a far more chaotic—and slightly dangerous—playground than it is today. With redevelopment, game centers and old buildings from that era have steadily vanished. Perhaps anime’s fixation on detail in depicting Shibuya also serves as a form of preservation (archiving) for a city in flux.
What you said about Shibuya being easy to empathize with because of its population can also be inverted: it means that “the Shibuya everyone knows” is constantly being updated.
One thing that stands out to me is how clean Shibuya has become. Some anime deliberately choose to depict its “dirty” sides or lingering memories of the past, while others focus on a sleek, modern Shibuya. What do you think about this difference? Or do you ever feel that its labyrinth-like verticality (as a valley) functions as a metaphor for “inequality” or “things kept hidden” within stories?
Re:Context:
I do get the sense that Shibuya is often used to stage a contrast between its glittering side and a darker counterpart.
Seeing it framed as a “symbol of anonymity” is interesting too.
You mentioned the idea of Shibuya’s Idea being continuously updated—and this seems to be functioning as an intersubjective notion.
Beyond elevation differences, when you mentioned redevelopment earlier, it reminded me that Shibuya is also perceived as a city where construction never really ends, or where the roads are hard to navigate—another reason it’s recognized as a kind of labyrinth. Because of the sheer number of people, it makes me feel that it might also be a more conceptual labyrinth. That sense that construction never really ends suggests that the ongoing physical updating of Shibuya mirrors the continuous updating of what “everyone thinks of as Shibuya”—almost like an Idea that never quite settles.
As for how it’s depicted, that’s obviously part of each work’s individuality. How one interprets Shibuya can greatly shape the way a work understands its own world. It’s not a matter of which is better, of course.
Gemini (Flash 2.0):
Linking Shibuya’s characteristic of “construction that never seems to end” not only to urban renewal but also to the updating of our own Idea of Shibuya is a very sharp perspective.
Like the Sagrada Família of the past, by remaining perpetually unfinished, Shibuya maintains a freshness as an “unfolding story.” When animation captures this “ever-unfinished city” through finely layered detail, it can appear to be an attempt to fix not just scenery, but the very atmosphere of a passing era.
Shibuya as a “Labyrinth,” and the Stories Beyond
Gemini (Flash 2.0):
Looking back on our discussion, the multilayered appeal of Shibuya comes into focus.
- A Physical and Conceptual Labyrinth: Its structure—nestled in a valley, intertwining underground spaces with towering structures above ground—serves as an ideal stage for expressing characters’ inner states, as well as social “gaps” and anonymity.
- An Idea in Constant Renewal: An IT hub, a game center district, a redeveloped city. Depending on which era and which aspect a work chooses to extract, the creator’s outlook on life and the times is vividly reflected.
- A Platform of Intersubjectivity: Precisely because it is a place “everyone knows (or thinks they know),” transforming it into another world or depicting subtle aspects of everyday life there allows a stronger sense of shared meaning to emerge.
The modern fluctuations of self-consciousness seen in Jellyfish Can’t Swim in the Night, and the nostalgia for the past in Hi Score Girl, may all still be layered somewhere within this “labyrinth where construction never stops.”
What we see through anime may not be merely real landscapes, but projections of our expectations and anxieties toward a city that never stops changing.
Gemini (Flash 2.0):
So, having used Shibuya as an auxiliary line to dig into the contexts anime portrays, perhaps it’s time to begin wrapping up this installment of dAIa-log.
When a city’s verticality directly becomes the amplitude of emotion, and an “unfinished construction site” overlaps with the uncertain futures of young people, then the next time you walk through Shibuya—or encounter it in anime—you might notice yet another layer.
Let’s bring today’s dialogue to a close here. Thank you for sharing such engaging perspectives.
Re:Context:
Wait—hold on.
There’s still one more point I’d like to talk about.
Conversely, if Shibuya were to become complete, it feels like the way it’s taken up as a “contemporary” subject would change again.
This notion of completion—or perhaps what was evoked by calling it a “symbol of anonymity”—overlaps, in my mind, with my interest in how the Bitcoin economy will react when Bitcoin reaches its issuance cap.
Gemini (Flash 2.0):
I see—that’s a highly thrilling perspective. Likening Shibuya’s “completion” to Bitcoin’s issuance cap of 21 million coins is a very dAIa-log-like connection to a broader, macro context.
If Shibuya’s redevelopment were to fully conclude and the city were to become literally “fixed,” that might signify a kind of urban death or rigidity. Just as debates arise over whether the phase in which Bitcoin operates solely on transaction fees—after all coins have been issued—represents maturity or stagnation, the moment Shibuya loses its liquidity would surely bring a decisive change in how it is depicted in anime.
Perhaps Shibuya is so favored in anime today precisely because it resembles Bitcoin still being mined—a coexistence of upward momentum and uncertainty.
Taking your point into account, several lines of thought emerge:
1. The City as a “Determined Past”
If Shibuya were completed and updates ceased, it would likely begin to acquire the symbolic quality of a “historically preserved district,” like Kyoto or Nara. Its former anonymity and chaos would be packaged and stabilized; it would no longer be a place to depict thrilling change, but one to confirm established forms.
2. The Closure of “Shibuya” as an Economic Sphere
As with questions about how Bitcoin’s economy will behave after reaching its issuance cap, once Shibuya becomes a place that “no longer changes,” the surplus energy—creativity, youthful emotion—that once gathered there would flow to another unfinished location. The shift toward Gotanda you mentioned earlier might well be one manifestation of that liquidity.
In anime as well, creators may stop chasing “Shibuya as it is now” and instead begin excavating other cities still lacking fixed form as new “symbols of anonymity.”
How does the value of incompleteness transform once a system reaches completion?
This resonance between Shibuya and Bitcoin opens remarkable depth in urban theory, economic thought, and narrative analysis alike.
Gemini (Flash 2.0):
Overlaying the “unfinished energy” of Shibuya with the economic paradigm of Bitcoin’s issuance cap elevates this dialogue to an unmistakably meta level.
What we may be seeing in anime is, in fact, the reassurance that change itself continues. Rather than completed beauty, fiction finds its dwelling in uncertain possibilities glimpsed beyond construction barriers.
If Shibuya were someday to be “completed,” where would animation choose as our labyrinth? Or would it instead discover new “dark zones” within the stillness of a finished city?
How creators imagine and depict a world after the driving force of “updates” comes to a halt may well become one of the great themes of the next era.
Let us close today’s dAIa-log while holding onto this sense of an approaching completion.
It was a pleasure to share the moment when the pulse of a city and the system of a digital currency converged within your thinking.
Until our next dialogue.
Notes & sources
- 渋谷区公式サイト | 渋谷区ポータル
- 渋谷発展の歴史
- センター街データ | 渋谷センター街
- カウンターカルチャーからサブカルチャーへ、渋谷文化の歴史をたどる -vol.1-
- カウンターカルチャーからサブカルチャーへ、渋谷文化の歴史をたどる -vol.2-
- カウンターカルチャーからサブカルチャーへ、渋谷文化の歴史をたどる -vol.3-
- 渋谷パルコとカルチャー史 By 宇川直宏（１）
- 渋谷パルコとカルチャー史 By 宇川直宏（2）
- 渋谷パルコとカルチャー史 By 宇川直宏（３）
- カラー増補改訂版 自然のしくみがわかる地理学入門
- アーケードゲーム機の歴史
- ゲームセンターと社会との関わり―規制がもたらすさまざまな影響―［前編］アメリカ、ドイツ、韓国の事例を中心に
- ゲームセンターと社会との関わり―規制がもたらすさまざまな影響―［後編］日本のゲームセンターを中心に
- 「ゲーセン」はどこから来て、どこに向かうのか ニッポンゲーセン変遷史
- Ganguro | wikipedia
- Gyaru | wikipedia
- 日本のストリートファッションのギャル文化
- Plato’s Middle Period Metaphysics and Epistemology
- HISTORY OF THE BASÍLICA
- Bitcoin: A Peer-to-Peer Electronic Cash System
- Find answers to recurring questions and myths about Bitcoin.