Hey everyone, it’s Sofia! Today, I want to take you on a journey that’s a little different from the usual high-energy pulse of Tokyo. We’re stepping off the beaten path and into the quiet, sun-drenched, and wonderfully melancholic world of the anime ‘Sing Yesterday for Me,’ or ‘Yesterday wo Utatte.’ This isn’t a story of grand battles or fantasy worlds; it’s a tale that whispers, set against the backdrop of everyday life in the city’s western suburbs. It’s a story about aimless post-college blues, the tangled threads of unrequited love, and the slow, uncertain process of finding your footing in the adult world. The beauty of this anime lies in its realism, in the way it captures the feeling of being stuck in the amber of the past while life continues to move forward around you. And the most incredible part? The world that these characters inhabit is entirely real. The creators meticulously recreated the streets, stations, and quiet corners of Tokyo’s Setagaya Ward, making a pilgrimage here feel less like a location hunt and more like stepping directly into a scene from the show. This guide is your invitation to walk alongside the characters Rikuo, Shinako, Haru, and Rou—to feel the rhythm of their lives, to stand on the same pedestrian bridges where they had their heart-to-hearts, and to experience the gentle, nostalgic atmosphere that makes this series so unforgettable. We’ll explore the charming local shopping streets, the peaceful residential lanes, and the vibrant hubs that serve as the stage for their intertwined stories. It’s a trip into the heart of a Tokyo that many visitors miss, a Tokyo that is subtle, deeply human, and achingly beautiful.
If you’re captivated by the idea of visiting real-world anime locations, you might also enjoy a jazz-infused pilgrimage to Sasebo, the heart of Kids on the Slope.
The Heartbeat of Yesterday: Exploring the Kyodo Area
Our journey starts in Kyodo, the neighborhood that functions like the central nervous system of the series. This is the world of Rikuo Uozumi, our protagonist—a young man drifting through his days working at a convenience store, holding a photography degree he rarely uses. The atmosphere of Kyodo perfectly reflects his mental state: comfortable, a bit worn-in, and moving at a pace slightly slower than the rest of Tokyo. It’s a place of routine, familiar faces, and the gentle murmur of daily life. To understand Rikuo, you must first grasp the rhythm of Kyodo, a place that is both a comforting embrace and a cage of indecision.
Kyodo Station: The Crossroads of Fate
Every story of transit and transition in Sing Yesterday for Me seems to revolve around Kyodo Station. Served by the Odakyu Line, this station is not a massive, overwhelming hub like Shinjuku or Shibuya. Instead, it has a distinct local character. When you step off the train, you’re greeted not by swarms of tourists but by students in uniform, salarymen heading home, and locals running errands. The anime captures this perfectly. We see Rikuo on the platforms, waiting for trains, his expression often lost in thought. The station overpass—a simple concrete and steel structure—becomes a recurring visual motif, a place where paths both cross and diverge. It’s right outside this station where Rikuo experiences his fateful, recurring encounters with the enigmatic Haru Nonaka and her pet crow, Kansuke. The station’s energy is one of constant, gentle motion. The chime of the ticket gates, announcements of arriving express trains, the murmur of conversations—all blend into a soundtrack of ordinary life. For a first-time visitor, Kyodo Station is the perfect entry point. It immediately grounds you in the anime’s world. Spend time just observing: watch the trains glide in and out, the flow of people at different hours of the day. You’ll witness scenes from the show unfold in real life, a testament to the creators’ incredible attention to detail. This is where Rikuo’s inertia feels most tangible—a place of constant movement where he often remains still, a spectator to the lives swirling around him.
Agri Park & Kyodo Suzuran Shotengai: Rikuo’s Neighborhood
Just a short walk from the station lies the heart of Rikuo’s world: the Kyodo Suzuran Shotengai. A shotengai is a traditional Japanese shopping arcade, and this one beautifully embodies the spirit of community. It’s neither flashy nor modern. Instead, it’s a charming, slightly retro corridor of small, family-owned businesses. You’ll find fruit vendors with neatly stacked pyramids of apples, tiny bakeries whose warm bread scent spills onto the street, old-fashioned bookstores, and local eateries with faded plastic food displays in their windows. This forms the backdrop of Rikuo’s daily life. While the convenience store where he works is fictional, you can easily imagine it nestled among these real shops. Walking down Suzuran Shotengai feels like stepping back in time. The architecture blends different decades, the signage is a vibrant clash of colors and fonts, and the atmosphere radiates unpretentious warmth. Here, the close-knit community shines; shopkeepers know their customers by name, and the pace is unhurried. For a photographer, this street is a treasure trove. The texture of old tiled storefronts, the way afternoon light filters through the arcade’s translucent roof, candid moments between neighbors—all await capture. It perfectly mirrors the anime’s visual language, which finds profound beauty in mundane details. Nearby is the small but lovely Agri Park, a little green oasis. In the anime, this spot serves for quiet moments and chance meetings; in reality, it offers the same. It’s a place to sit on a bench, enjoy a snack from the shotengai, and watch the world go by. It’s in these unassuming spots—the shopping street, the small park—that the series’ emotional landscape truly comes alive. It’s about finding moments of peace and connection within the gentle, predictable rhythm of a neighborhood that feels like home.
In Shinako’s Footsteps: The Serene Streets of Gotokuji
If Kyodo symbolizes Rikuo’s comfortable stagnation, then the nearby neighborhood of Gotokuji perfectly captures Shinako Morinome’s quiet, contemplative, and grief-laden world. A high school teacher, Shinako is kind and gentle, yet she lives under the shadow of a past tragedy, struggling to fully move forward. Her neighborhood, accessible by a short ride on the charming local Setagaya Line or a pleasant walk from Kyodo, mirrors her personality with remarkable accuracy. It is quieter, more residential, and imbued with a peaceful melancholy. Walking through Gotokuji reveals the protective shell Shinako has constructed around her heart.
Gotokuji Station & The Maneki-neko Connection
Upon arriving at Gotokuji Station, the atmosphere immediately feels different. The station is smaller, and the streets branching out are less commercial, leaning more toward residential. The anime frequently shows Shinako walking these streets, her posture slightly bent, lost in thought. Gotokuji also harbors a delightful secret—a cultural icon that enriches any visit. This area is believed to be the birthplace of the ‘maneki-neko,’ the famous beckoning cat symbolizing good luck. The connection is celebrated throughout the neighborhood. Cat motifs appear on shop signs, lampposts, and even local pastries. This whimsical feature offers a gentle, almost magical counterpoint to Shinako’s often somber story. The main highlight is, naturally, Gotoku-ji Temple. A short, tranquil walk from the station brings you to its serene grounds. The temple itself is beautiful, featuring a lovely pagoda and meticulously maintained gardens. However, the real marvel is the corner dedicated to the maneki-neko, where thousands of white cat statues of various sizes are displayed, left as offerings by visitors. The scene is surreal and extremely photogenic—a silent army of good fortune, with raised paws and calm, knowing faces. Although the temple does not play a major role in the anime, visiting it deepens one’s appreciation for the cultural essence of Shinako’s neighborhood. It suggests that even within a world shadowed by sorrow, there are pockets of charm, luck, and quiet hope waiting to be uncovered.
The Quiet Residential Lanes: Finding Shinako’s World
To truly connect with Shinako’s character, one must explore the backstreets of Gotokuji, where the neighborhood’s authentic spirit lives. The lanes are narrow, winding, and impeccably clean, lined with a blend of modern houses and older traditional homes with tiled roofs and carefully tended gardens. This world is rich in detail: small potted plants arranged artfully by front doors, laundry hanging in the afternoon sun, the glint of light reflecting off a bicycle parked in a narrow alley. There is a deep sense of peace here, with silence only broken by the distant rumble of a train or birdsong. The anime skillfully uses these settings for Shinako’s many reflective walks. We see her walking home beneath glowing streetlights, the shadows of power lines casting intricate patterns on the pavement. We sense her loneliness and her resistance to change in the quiet, unvarying character of these streets. A wonderful way to experience this is simply to get lost—put away your map and wander, allowing the gentle curves of the streets to guide you. This neighborhood is not for checking off landmarks; it is for feeling. The atmosphere subtly shifts with the time of day: fresh and hopeful in the morning; soft, nostalgic, and golden during the hour before sunset, casting long shadows and bathing everything in a warm, cinematic glow; intimate and secretive at night under the soft, orange streetlamp light. It’s on these quiet walks that you can almost hear the unspoken dialogue of the series, sense the weight of Shinako’s memories, and feel her tentative steps toward a new future.
Haru’s Energetic Orbit: The Bohemian Vibe of Sangen-jaya
Leaving behind the quiet contemplation of Gotokuji, we set off for Sangen-jaya, affectionately known as ‘Sancha’ by locals. This vibrant area perfectly embodies Haru Nonaka, the wonderfully quirky, energetic, and determined young woman who bursts into Rikuo’s life and refuses to leave. Compared to Kyodo and Gotokuji, Sangen-jaya is livelier, more eclectic, and pulses with a bohemian, artistic energy. It’s a hub for students, artists, and young professionals, filled with trendy cafes, vintage shops, and a dizzying maze of tiny bars and restaurants. The atmosphere is vibrant, a little chaotic, and unapologetically authentic—just like Haru.
Sangen-jaya Station & Carrot Tower: A View from Above
At the heart of the neighborhood lies the bustling intersection outside Sangen-jaya Station, where major roads, elevated expressways, and train lines converge in a striking urban tapestry. Towering over the skyline is the area’s most recognizable landmark: Carrot Tower. Despite its quirky name, inspired by its orange brick facade, this building plays a key role in understanding Haru’s perspective. It houses offices, shops, and a public theater, but the true highlight is the free observation deck on the 26th floor. Taking the elevator up lifts you away from street-level noise, revealing a space of serene panoramas. The view is breathtaking—the sprawling urban landscape of Setagaya and western Tokyo stretches out below, a vast mosaic of low-rise buildings, parks, and winding railway lines. On a clear day, Mount Fuji’s distant silhouette graces the horizon, a majestic presence. This expansive, sky-high vista perfectly captures Haru’s essence: a character who always looks ahead, brimming with boundless optimism and a perspective that transcends the messy complexities of life below. Standing here, you can picture her gazing out over the city, her world of possibilities unfolding before her. It’s a place of dreams and perspective, a striking contrast to the introspective, ground-level worlds of Rikuo and Shinako. This spot is a pilgrimage must-see, offering a moment of breathtaking clarity and a chance to view the world, quite literally, through Haru’s eyes.
The Labyrinth of Izakayas: Sangen-jaya’s Nightlife
When night falls, Sangen-jaya reveals a different side of itself. Hidden away in narrow alleys near the station lies a dense, atmospheric network of izakayas (Japanese-style pubs) and small eateries. This is Tokyo’s ‘yokocho’ culture—a realm of red lanterns, the steam rising from sizzling grills, and the warm, inviting sounds of conversation and laughter spilling out from tiny doorways. Exploring these alleys feels like stepping into a secret city. Each spot is intimate, often with just a handful of seats, fostering a communal atmosphere. While the anime doesn’t specify a particular izakaya, this is precisely the kind of place where you can imagine the lively Haru working part-time, charming patrons with her unique spirit. The air is thick with the tempting aroma of yakitori and other grilled delicacies. Visually, it’s stunning—the glowing lanterns, handwritten menus, and rustic wooden interiors make it a photographer’s dream. For visitors, this scene can seem intimidating at first, but the experience is deeply rewarding. My advice: be bold. Pick a spot that feels welcoming, slip through the door, and see what unfolds. Here, you’ll find some of Tokyo’s most authentic and memorable dining experiences. It’s the perfect way to end a day of pilgrimage, immersing yourself in the lively, hopeful, and delightfully chaotic energy that defines both Sangen-jaya and Haru herself.
The Supporting Cast’s Stages: Other Key Locations
Beyond the central neighborhoods of our main characters, the world of ‘Sing Yesterday for Me’ extends across several other significant locations along the Odakyu Line. These are transitional spaces, places of movement and change, where some of the series’ most touching and memorable moments take place. They serve as the emotional glue of the story, and visiting them is key to fully understanding the narrative’s delicate emotional rhythm.
Matsubara Station & The Iconic Pedestrian Bridge
If there’s one location that fans of the anime will instantly recognize, it’s the green pedestrian bridge near Matsubara Station. This bridge, arching over the busy Odakyu Line railway tracks, feels like a character itself. It appears in the opening credits and serves as the backdrop for numerous important conversations, especially between Rikuo and Shinako. It’s a space of suspension, caught between destinations. Standing on this bridge, you sense that feeling of being in-between. The view is captivating. You can watch the trains—the sleek, modern Romancecar expresses alongside the familiar blue-and-white commuter trains—rushing beneath. The rhythmic clatter of wheels on the tracks and the chime of the nearby railway crossing create a deeply immersive soundscape. This bridge symbolizes the characters’ relationships—their connection, their distance, and the unspoken things lingering between them. It’s where they meet by chance, have difficult talks, and stand quietly together, watching the world move on around them. Visiting at different times of day offers varied experiences. In the bright midday light, the bridge appears as a simple urban structure. But during golden hour, as the sun sets, it transforms. The light softens, the metal glows, and the whole scene takes on the warm, nostalgic tone of the anime’s color palette. This spot is perfect for photography, capturing the quiet, cinematic beauty that defines the series. It’s more than just a bridge; it’s a stage for the heart.
Shimo-Kitazawa: The Vintage Vibe
Just a short distance from the main settings lies the neighborhood of Shimo-Kitazawa, or ‘Shimokita’ as it’s commonly called. Though not a primary location in the show, its spirit and aesthetic perfectly align with the world of ‘Sing Yesterday for Me.’ Shimokita is Tokyo’s hub of cool, a vibrant area known for its many vintage clothing shops, independent record stores, small curated bookstores, intimate theaters, and live music venues. It’s a neighborhood pulsing with youthful, creative, and slightly rebellious energy. This is the kind of place where the characters might naturally gravitate. Rikuo, with his forgotten passion for photography, would find endless inspiration in Shimokita’s distinctive street style and photogenic, graffiti-covered alleyways. The neighborhood’s celebration of the past, seen in its thriving vintage scene, echoes the show’s core theme of being tied to yesterday. Visiting Shimo-Kitazawa is a wonderful complement to the pilgrimage. It’s the ideal place to explore after seeing the quieter main locations. You can spend hours browsing racks of secondhand clothing, hunting for hidden treasures, or discovering new favorite bands in a basement music shop. The area is a maze of narrow streets, largely pedestrian-friendly, encouraging wandering and unexpected finds. It captures the essence of youth, artistic ambition, and the search for identity—themes central to the characters’ struggles. Shimokita provides the cultural soundtrack to the series, a place that feels like the natural home for these creative, searching souls.
Capturing the ‘Yesterday’ Aesthetic: A Photographer’s Guide
‘Sing Yesterday for Me’ is an anime renowned for its breathtaking visual style. It features a soft, film-like texture, with a sharp focus on the beauty found in the most ordinary places. Taking a pilgrimage through its locations provides a fantastic chance to refine your own photographic vision and capture the unique atmosphere of this part of Tokyo. This experience goes beyond snapping quick photos of landmarks; it’s about seeing the world through the same lens as the show’s artists.
The Magic of the Odakyu Line
The Odakyu Line serves as the lifeline linking all these spots, with its trains and tracks constantly visible throughout the anime. They symbolize movement, the passage of time, and lives running on parallel yet separate paths. Center your camera on these features. The railway crossings, called ‘fumikiri,’ are especially cinematic. Wait for the barriers to lower and the red lights to flash, capturing the momentary pause in the neighborhood’s rhythm. The sight of pedestrians and cyclists patiently waiting for the train is a quintessentially Japanese scene. Photograph the trains themselves as their sleek forms streak across the landscape. Shoot from pedestrian bridges, using the tracks as leading lines that draw the eye toward the horizon. The play of light and shadow on platforms and the reflections in the train windows—these details will enliven your photos and resonate with the show’s visual narrative.
Finding Beauty in the Mundane
The true brilliance of the anime’s art direction lies in its ability to elevate the everyday. This should guide your approach as a photographer. Seek out details often overlooked: a row of vending machines casting a vivid, lonely glow on a quiet street at night; a tangle of power lines and telephone wires silhouetted against a pastel sunset sky—a hallmark of Japanese urban scenery; the quiet corner of a small neighborhood park, with just one empty swing; the fluorescent-lit interior of a local convenience store, a beacon of familiarity in the late hours. These images bring the world of ‘Yesterday’ to life. Notice textures too: the rust on an old sign, cracked pavement, weathered wood on a traditional house. This pilgrimage becomes an exercise in attentive observation, training your eye to discover poetry within everyday prose.
The Palette of the Seasons
Setagaya’s atmosphere shifts dramatically with each season, offering wonderful chances to capture varied moods. In spring, the iconic cherry blossoms adorn streets and railway lines with pale pink petals, adding a fleeting, delicate beauty perfectly suited to the show’s bittersweet tone. Summer brings vibrant greens and the relentless cicada chorus so typical of Japanese settings, with intense sunlight casting deep, dramatic shadows. Autumn ignites the scene with warm hues as ginkgo and maple leaves turn brilliant gold and crimson, enhancing the nostalgic feel. Winter provides a different kind of charm: crisp, clear air; bare tree branches forming stark, graphic silhouettes; and the low sun casting long, gentle shadows. Each season reveals a fresh perspective on these familiar locations, a new way to connect emotionally with the characters’ journey.
Crafting Your Perfect ‘Yesterday’ Itinerary
Embarking on this pilgrimage is a deeply personal experience, but a bit of planning can help you maximize your time and fully immerse yourself in the world of the anime. The locations are all fairly close to each other along the Odakyu Line, making it easy to explore them at a relaxed pace. Here are some suggestions for organizing your day.
A One-Day Immersive Walk
It’s completely possible to experience the highlights of this pilgrimage in a single, well-paced day. A good approach is to follow the emotional flow of a day, moving from quiet morning reflection to lively evening energy.
Begin your morning in Gotokuji. The tranquil, residential streets are at their calmest early in the day. Visit Gotoku-ji Temple when it’s less crowded and take a long, thoughtful walk through Shinako’s neighborhood. The morning light is soft and lovely, ideal for capturing the peaceful atmosphere.
In the afternoon, head to Kyodo. This is a great time to explore Suzuran Shotengai, as the shops will be buzzing with daily activity. You can enjoy a tasty, affordable lunch from one of the local eateries. Spend some time at Kyodo Station, watching the flow of commuters, then find a peaceful spot in Agri Park. Don’t forget to make the side trip to Matsubara to stand on the iconic green pedestrian bridge as the afternoon sun begins to lower.
As evening nears, go to Sangen-jaya. Your goal is Carrot Tower. Plan to be on the observation deck during the golden hour, just before sunset. Watching the city lights start to sparkle as the sky changes color is truly magical. After dark, dive into the maze of izakayas. End your day with a fantastic meal and a drink, soaking in the vibrant nightlife that defines Haru’s world. This itinerary lets you experience the unique character of each location and its corresponding character, creating a rich and memorable narrative for your day.
What to Pack and What to Know
For a smooth and enjoyable journey, a few practical tips are essential. First and foremost, wear your most comfortable walking shoes. This pilgrimage is best done on foot, and you will be covering a lot of ground. A good camera or a smartphone with a quality camera is, naturally, essential for capturing the beautiful scenery. Given all the navigating and photo-taking, a portable battery charger is a lifesaver. While Japan is increasingly credit card-friendly, many smaller family-run shops and eateries in these neighborhoods, especially in the shotengai and izakaya alleys, still accept cash only. It’s wise to carry a good amount of yen.
Perhaps the most important advice is to remember that these are real, living neighborhoods—not a theme park or film set. The houses you see are people’s homes, and the shops are their livelihoods. Be a respectful pilgrim. Keep your voice low, especially in the quiet residential areas of Gotokuji. Do not trespass on private property for a better photo. Be considerate when photographing people, and always be polite and courteous. By blending in and showing respect, you not only ensure a better experience for yourself but also honor the spirit of the community that makes this area so special.
More Than Just an Anime Tour
As your day of following in the footsteps of Rikuo, Shinako, and Haru comes to an end, you’ll realize this journey is about far more than simply matching real locations to animated scenes. It’s about experiencing a side of Tokyo often hidden from the usual tourist routes. It’s a journey into the quiet poetry of the suburbs, a discovery of the profound beauty in the ordinary, and an immersion into the very atmosphere that makes ‘Sing Yesterday for Me’ such a resonant and emotionally genuine story. You’ll have felt the comforting stillness of Kyodo, the subtle melancholy of Gotokuji, and the vibrant, forward-looking energy of Sangen-jaya. You’ll have stood on the same bridge where the characters grappled with their pasts and futures, and gazed out over the sprawling city that holds all their hopes and fears. This pilgrimage doesn’t just reveal where the story took place; it helps you understand why it unfolded there. It serves as a reminder that even in one of the world’s largest and most futuristic cities, the most compelling stories are often the small, quiet, human ones. You leave with your camera full of beautiful images, but more importantly, you depart with a deeper appreciation of the gentle, introspective heart beating just beneath Tokyo’s surface—a rhythm that, like the anime itself, will stay with you long after you’ve boarded the train and headed home.
