Channelling Anime

An enormous retarted boy sits on the floor of the Loop Line train. In purple sweat pants and a grimy black shirt and a mesh-back ball cap, he talks himself through a GameBoy world. Berating himself for bad choices, for losing the lives of lesser creatures that are under his character's care. Always the forces of evil and destruction, or perhaps simply the threat of a sudden impersonal death pushing into the tiny screen of life from beyond the invisible pink-plastic margins. The frame constraining reality. He mutters and his voice rises as though to cry. But we don't look at him, or even at each other on the train. He blocks the door that nobody wants out through. He moans and lets his GameBoy fall to his lap and then clunk to the floor. He's still plugged in through his ears. He begins to churn his face into an emotion, into a sorrow, and I wonder if it's his or if it's the little light's, the colorful smudge of his character there, now, on the floor. Dispossessed, is he sad or is he channelling anime?