You bow, place flowers, and speak quietly – before everything retreats back into storage, ready for the next visitor.

In Japan’s major cities, this is no futuristic fantasy – it’s a practical response to an ageing population, shrinking families, and a severe shortage of space.

Often referred to as “virtual cemeteries”, these facilities are better described as “high-tech indoor columbaria”. They store cremated remains in compact, multi-storey buildings and use automation and digital displays to make visits efficient, private, and emotionally focused.

For visitors from countries like Malaysia, where burial practices are shaped by religion, tradition and family land, the concept may seem alien – yet the pressures driving this shift are increasingly recognisable across urban Asia.

In Japan, graves are traditionally family-owned and passed down generations, with relatives responsible for regular maintenance. Today, however, many people live far from ancestral homes, have no children, or simply cannot afford city burial plots.

The result has been a move towards indoor, technology-assisted memorial spaces.

At Tokyo’s Shinjuku Rurikoin Byakurengedo, visitors use an electronic card to summon a private altar. A digital screen displays photographs of the deceased, while a robotic system retrieves the urn from storage behind the scenes.

After a short visit, everything is returned – quietly and efficiently.

Another well-known location is Ruriden, an indoor cemetery attached to Koukoku-ji temple. Inside, over 2,000 small Buddha statues glow softly in different colours. Each represents a person whose ashes are stored behind the wall, illuminated when a visitor taps their card.

Convenience, not coldness

For many users, the appeal is less about novelty and more about relief. Older Japanese residents often cite practicality as a deciding factor.

Yumiko Nakajima, then in her 70s, told VICE in 2016 that she chose such a facility because she did not want to burden her relatives with grave upkeep. “It’s much more convenient,” she said.

Indeed, this convenience is carefully designed: these indoor cemeteries are sheltered from the weather, close to train stations, and open daily, allowing visits to fit into modern routines.

These facilities operate at the intersection of religion, technology and business – a delicate balance. And despite being labelled “high-tech indoor columbaria”, there is nothing particularly high-tech on the surface.

There are no virtual-reality headsets or holograms. The technology is deliberately unobtrusive, to preserve some semblance of tradition.

At Shinkyoji Temple, visitors enter a small, quiet booth. After tapping their card, a portrait appears on screen, followed moments later by the urn, delivered by an automated system. The rituals – bowing, lighting incense, silent reflection – remain intact.

Shakuhousen, the temple’s 17th-generation chief priest, sees it as adaptation rather than disruption. “We also have a traditional outdoor graveyard here,” he said, “but there are benefits to this indoor type.”

It may be tempting to frame Japan’s virtual cemeteries as technology changing the way people grieve; but those who run them argue that grief itself remains unchanged – only its logistics have evolved.

“In this era of digitisation,” added Shakuhousen, “I want temples to continue in their role as places where we can remember people from the past.”

For Malaysians watching from afar, Japan’s approach may not be a model to adopt wholesale. But it offers a glimpse of how mourning practices might adapt in dense, ageing cities – not through spectacle, but through quiet, thoughtful design that makes space for memory… even when space itself is scarce.