Increasing Partnership Recognition, but What Life Is Really Like for LGBTQ+ People in Tokyo’s Shinjuku 2-Chome
New insights gained from the world’s largest gay town
Masayuki Ono (42), who runs the bar “ONO” in Ni-chome, has lived in this neighborhood since running away from his family home in Nagoya at the age of 17. The clientele of his bar is about 60% women, 30% straight men, and 10% gay men. While many female customers used to be sex workers or hostesses finishing their shifts, Ono has noticed an increase in office workers and university students among the patrons.
Ono originally liked women. He had dating experiences with women while in school, but after moving to Tokyo, he had neither a home nor a job. A man who helped him at that time was gay, and Ono developed feelings for him. The neighborhood of Ni-chome accepted him, allowing him to live openly with those feelings.
“Cheating and one-night stands are relatively common here,” Ono says. He believes the reason is that, although more local governments have introduced partnership systems, these arrangements lack the legal binding force of marriage, making infidelity more frequent.
“I had a boyfriend five years younger than me. He was going to study as a researcher at Oxford University’s graduate school, and he proposed, saying, ‘Let’s get married in the UK, where same-sex marriage is legal.’ He said, ‘I’ll support you,’ but I couldn’t give up my current life.”
“He was young, and I was afraid his feelings would change, and I didn’t want to live a miserable life dependent on someone else, so I declined the proposal. Later, when I received an invitation to his wedding, I was shocked.”
Anna (pseudonym, in her 40s) has been coming to Ni-chome for eight years. She is a mother of two and identifies as bisexual. Her husband was an elite overseas branch manager at a major conglomerate trading company, but he fell in love with a female acupuncturist and divorced. As a single mother raising her children, Anna primarily visits gay bars.
“I also spent time at lesbian bars, but I didn’t feel comfortable with the patrons’ sense of being a minority. I don’t see being attracted to women as something negative. That’s why I like gay bars where I can drink openly and cheerfully without hiding my sexual orientation.”
Worries about being gay and coming out
The world of male sex workers, known as uri-sen, has also changed. In the past, standing boys would gather in large numbers every night in the park adjacent to Ni-chome, but the park is now closed. Bars catering to sex-for-hire also exist in only a few locations. Today, cruising spots or sex service establishments have become the main ways to satisfy sexual desires.
Naoya, a university student, and Koji, a first-year working adult (both pseudonyms), once worked as top-ranked, highly sought-after uri-sen. They did it to pay tuition and cover entertainment expenses. Naoya explains:
“I only did vanilla sex (sex without penetration). The pay was lower than for women working in the sex industry—about 13,000 yen for 60 minutes was standard. The most I ever earned in a month was around 750,000 yen.”
“Many clients weren’t necessarily seeking sex—they wanted someone who could understand their sexual preferences and talk with them. This was especially true for clients in high social positions. I quit after about six months, once I’d saved enough for tuition, but I hardly ever had unpleasant experiences.”
Koji, who had long struggled with not being able to come out as gay, gained a realization during his two years working as an uri-sen:
“Most of the people I met in uri-sen fully accepted being gay as part of their identity. Seeing that made me realize that hiding my own gay identity meant that I had been subconsciously discriminating against other gay people. Working as an uri-sen made me see how silly it had been to live worrying so much about others’ opinions.”
As the neighborhood becomes more open, friction arises, and over time it matures into what can be called culture. At the same time, the unique human connections and stories cultivated over decades in this area still remain.
—From FRIDAY, January 30–February 6, 2026 combined issue
Interview and text： Shimei Kurita (nonfiction writer) PHOTO： Takayuki Ogawauchi