Ever since first encountering XR art, Misa Haru has been captivated by its radical departure from flat cinema. In XR, we do not merely consume content with our eyes and ears; rather, we open every pore of our bodies to breathe in the very atmosphere of the artwork. A common critique of XR is that while virtual objects feel incredibly real, the ultimate lack of tactile feedback upon touching them breeds a profound sense of disappointment. Misa decided to subvert this psychological gap, turning this very limitation into a creative asset. In Tomori, inspiration sparked from developing a narrative intertwined with the various windows and crevices of a room. By designing these structural gaps, Misa entices players to actively alter their physical positions and postures, thereby amplifying the narrative weight of their own bodily presence. The anxiety of having one’s vision confined, the disorientation of vertigo, and even the physical fatigue brought on by movement—all are weaponised as mediums for storytelling rather than treated as technical obstacles. Misa firmly believes that within these most immediate, visceral human sensations lies the infinite – and perhaps even philosophical – potential of XR.