Why does this keyword matter? Why are thousands of fans still debating the "best" way to experience Before Waking Up?

Because Rika Nishimura represents a subversion of the "Manic Pixie Dream Girl" trope. She initially appears to exist only to heal the protagonist. But "before waking up," you realize she is her own person—a person who is terminally ill, scared, and extraordinary not because she is perfect, but because she chooses to love despite her broken memory.

The "best" Rika is not the one in the festival fireworks scene. The "best" Rika is the one who, in the final "waking" scene, sees Kaito’s tears and, for just one second, whispers, "I don’t know you… but I think I loved you."

That line hits differently if you have spent 10 hours in the "before" state. That is the answer to the keyword: The best way to experience Rika Nishimura is slowly, painfully, and in the correct order.

Of course, not every morning is poetry. Nishimura admits to “bad borders”—mornings where the dream is a nightmare of missed trains or forgotten lines. The Golden Thread becomes a barbed wire.

“This morning I dreamed I was back in high school, taking a math exam I hadn’t studied for. The numbers were melting into centipedes. I woke up with my hands shaking, reaching for a pencil that wasn’t there.”

But even then, she doesn’t flee. She whispers to the centipedes: “Show me what you’re carrying.”

She says they usually turn back into numbers. And those numbers become the beat count for a new yoga flow, or the page number in a script she needs to re-read.

Around the 4-hour mark, the dream will glitch. Rika will say something anachronistic. She might call you by a nickname she hasn't used since middle school, or she might forget a conversation you had five minutes ago in-game. Do not reset. This is the narrative’s genius. The "best" way to feel the horror is to lean into the confusion.