Japanese Youth Slang (Wakamono Kotoba): Sore na, Wanchan, Emoi and More

A warning before you use any of it

Youth slang is the fastest-moving part of any language. Words that were everywhere three years ago can already sound dated, and a word your friends in Osaka use every day may get a blank look in Sendai. Nobody expects a learner to be current, so the goal of this guide is recognition. Using the words is a second step, and it works best when you copy a specific person you have actually heard say it.

There is also a register problem. All of these words are casual, plain-form Japanese. They are fine with friends and classmates of your own age, and wrong with a teacher, a customer or anyone you address with desu and masu. If you are unsure, react with the safer standard phrases, such as sō da ne, hontō ni or sugoi, and save the slang for when someone else has used it first.

Yabai, the intensifiers maji and gachi, and written internet slang such as w already have guides of their own on this site, so they are left out here.

Agreeing and reacting: sore na, wakaru, ossu

The first slang most learners pick up is the vocabulary of agreement, because it comes up every few seconds between friends. Sore na is the big one. It shortens sore da na and means exactly, that's it, I know. It is a full reply on its own, often with a nod. Wakaru, literally I understand, does the same job with more warmth: I get that, I feel the same. Meccha wakaru turns it up.

Ossu is different in kind. It is a gruff greeting from martial arts clubs and sports teams, and among young men it works as hi, yes or got it. It is very casual and rather masculine, so listen before adopting it. Kusa, literally grass, comes from written laughter, where a row of w looks like grass, and is now said aloud to mean that's hilarious.

Chances, quality and awkwardness

A second group of words grades things on a casual scale. Wanchan, from the English one chance, means there is a small possibility. Wanchan aru is there's a chance, wanchan ikeru is we might just make it, and a lone wanchan? asks whether something is possible. Bimyō means subtle in standard Japanese, but in casual speech it means meh, not quite, hard to say, and is how young people avoid saying something is bad. If a friend calls a film bimyō, they did not like it.

Egui once meant harsh or acrid; now it means extreme or intense in either direction. An egui play in a game is brilliant, an egui workload is brutal. Kimazui, from ki, feeling, and mazui, bad, describes an awkward atmosphere: a silence after an argument, or sitting between two people who have just broken up. Adults of all ages use kimazui, because there is no better standard word for that feeling.

Bimyō is the one to learn first. Japanese conversation avoids flat negatives, so bimyō does the work that not great or I'm not sure does in English. Between friends it is an honest answer; to a shopkeeper, it is a little cold.

Moods and vibes: emoi, chiru, mi ga aru

Emoi is the word outsiders most often ask about. It takes the English emotional, cuts it down, and gives it an i-adjective ending so it conjugates like any other adjective: emokatta, that was so atmospheric. It describes anything that makes you feel something wistful or beautiful, from a night view to a song you last heard at school.

Chiru comes from the English chill and is used as a suru verb, chiru suru, or with na, chiru na, laid back. Kyō wa ie de chiru suru means I'm going to relax at home today. Mi ga aru is worth learning because it is productive: mi, a flavour or feeling of, is stuck onto a word, and ga aru says that feeling is present. Wakarimi ga aru means I relate to that, and yabami ga aru means there's something dodgy about it. The point is playful vagueness rather than precision.

Time, money and effort: taipa and kosupa

Kosupa, from cost performance, has been ordinary Japanese for years and is used by every generation: kosupa ga ii is good value for money. Taipa, time performance, is the younger sibling, associated with people in their twenties who watch videos at double speed. Taipa ga ii means good return for the time spent; taipa ga warui is a long meeting that could have been a message.

Both words are nouns, so they take ga ii or ga warui. Mendoi, a shortening of mendōkusai, is the companion word for effort: what a hassle. Together these three let a young speaker rate any plan in a few syllables.

Turning nouns into verbs with -ru

One of the most productive habits in Japanese slang is taking a noun, often a brand or a loanword, cutting it short and adding ru to make a plain-form verb. The classic examples are saboru, to skip class, from sabotage, and guguru, to google, both old enough now to appear in dictionaries. Newer ones follow the same pattern: makuru, to go to a certain burger chain; jikoru, to have an accident, from jiko; and disuru, to diss someone. Once made, the verb conjugates like a normal u-verb: sabotta, guguttara, disurareta.

Because the pattern is open, people invent new -ru verbs for a laugh. You do not need to memorise a list; you need to notice the shape. When you hear an unfamiliar verb ending in -ru that sounds like a shortened katakana word, it is probably one of these.

• Guguru: to google something; gugutte, look it up
• Saboru: to skip a class or shift, to slack off
• Disuru: to diss, to put someone down
• Jikoru: to have an accident, from jiko
• Makuru, sutabaru: to go to a burger or coffee chain
• Bazuru: to go viral, from buzz
• Rimoru: to work remotely, a newer coinage

The -ru verbs are all plain and casual; polite versions sound like a joke.

Slang in conversation: an example exchange

Below, two university friends decide what to do on a Saturday. Notice that the slang sits inside normal plain-form Japanese, and no sentence contains more than one or two slang words. That density is realistic; a conversation that is nothing but slang sounds like a parody.

Mistakes learners make with youth slang

The most common mistake is register: using slang with someone who has not used it with you. If the other person is speaking to you in desu and masu, you have no permission to use wakamono kotoba, whatever their age. If they are speaking in plain form and are roughly your age, you can try a word they have already used.

The second mistake is age. Emoi, taipa and mi ga aru are marked as young; sore na and wanchan have spread further; kimazui, bimyō and kosupa are used by everyone. If you are in your thirties or forties, the young-marked words can sound like a costume unless you are clearly joking.

The third mistake is staleness. Slang lists online are often years old, and a word can go from fresh to embarrassing quickly. Treat every list, including this one, as a starting point, and let real conversations correct it. If you use a word and get a surprised laugh, ask whether people still say it.