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On the Seibu-Shinjuku line on my way to Araiyakushimae the door opens at Shimo-Ochiai station and everything becomes quiet. It is as if the theater curtains have been drawn and the performance is about to begin. I see three kids in matching tracksuits practicing synchronized dance moves that they are copying from a video playing on a cell phone. They finish their routine, the doors close, and we pull away. I begin to invisibly, loudly clap in appreciation of their routine.