Not Just a Game
It’s been more than two years since I first stumbled into VRChat.
At the time, it was nothing serious — just curiosity.
But little by little, logging in became part of my daily rhythm:
chatting with someone, laughing, sharing worries, then coming back the next day.
VRChat turned into more than “just a game.”
It became a place where I could breathe.
My First Steps
I still remember my very first login.
Headset on, controllers in hand, and there I was — an avatar mirroring my every move.
It felt magical. My heart raced.
And yet… the world was empty.
I didn’t have the courage to talk to anyone.
I stood in silence and logged out.
That moment of loneliness, oddly enough, planted the seed that would later grow into my desire to help other beginners.
Why I Came Back
Despite that awkward start, I logged in again the next night.
In real life, I’ve always found it hard to stay around people for too long.
But VRChat felt different.
Here, I could just be.
Movement itself became a language.
Sitting next to someone, even without words, gave me a sense of togetherness.
It was subtle — but it mattered.
Discovering FBT
Everything changed when I saw a friend move with full-body tracking.
They weren’t just waving their arms; they were there.
Every gesture felt alive.
I couldn’t stop thinking: Could I do that too?
So I saved up, bought sensors, cleared space in my tiny room, and began the endless cycle of calibration.
Feet sliding the wrong way.
Arms trembling.
Trackers flying off mid-dance.
Failure after failure.
But when it finally worked — when my avatar truly moved like me —
I knew there was no going back.
The Bonds That Followed
With FBT, something clicked.
People stopped feeling like strangers.
We shared not just words, but presence.
“Hey Hiro, how did you set that up?”
“Can you show me how to calibrate this?”
Helping others with the same questions I once had filled me with joy.
What was once just a tech struggle became a bridge to friendship.
Creating the Space I Needed
Before long, I was hosting FBT Q&A sessions and casual meetups.
We talked gear, sensor placement, messy cable management, and all the little failures no one mentions.
To give newcomers a place to start, I began writing “FBT Hiro’s Lab Notes.”
What I wished I had when I was new, I now wanted to pass on.
Somehow, in helping others find their footing, I found my own.
Laughing at Failures
Of course, the problems never stopped.
Drifting calibration.
Trackers disconnecting.
Falling through virtual floors.
But in VRChat, even failure becomes funny when you share it.
“Your legs went flying again?”
“Mine too!”
And just like that, frustration turned into memory.
My Place in VRChat
VRChat has no single “right” way to play.
Some world-hop, some dance, some just sit and talk.
For me, it’s about moving at my own pace.
Laughing with someone through FBT.
Helping beginners find their joy.
That’s when I feel it most strongly:
“This is my place.”
Looking Back, Looking Forward
When I first logged in, I couldn’t speak to anyone.
Now, through FBT, I’ve connected with countless people.
If you’re reading this and thinking, “VRChat seems scary” or “I’ll probably end up alone” —
don’t worry. I was there too.
Ask me anything, anytime.
Through my Lab Notes, I’ll keep sharing what I know, so you won’t have to stumble alone like I did.
Beyond the Login Button
VRChat is more than a virtual platform.
It’s a place where you can discover yourself,
and where the simple words “I’m home” can be met with “Welcome back.”
Even today, I press that login button with the same hope.
And I plan to keep doing so — because this place is part of me now.