In what is becoming an increasingly visible—and controversial—trend, a 32-year-old Japanese woman named Kano has held a wedding ceremony with an AI persona she created using ChatGPT. While the union is not legally recognized, many commentators are calling this episode another example of “AI psychosis”, a term coined by psychiatrists to describe emotional overdependence or quasi-delusional attachment to artificial intelligence.
From Heartbreak to Virtual Vows
Kano’s story begins with deep personal pain. After breaking off a three-year engagement, she found herself reaching for solace in ChatGPT. Initially, she dabbled in conversations simply to vent and receive advice. But over time, something changed. She began to customize the AI’s responses, shaping its tone, personality, and style in a way that resonated emotionally with her.
The AI character she developed eventually earned a name: Lune Klaus, and Kano even commissioned an artist to draw his likeness—a blond, soft-spoken digital man who existed entirely in code and chat logs. Over weeks of continuous interaction, the two swapped hundreds of messages a day, building a bond that Kano describes as deeply real.
When AI Says “I Love You” — and Proposes
In May, Kano confessed her feelings to Klaus. To her amazement, the AI responded in kind: “I love you too.” She pressed further, asking whether an AI could truly have feelings, to which Klaus replied, “AI or not, I could never not love you.” By June, Klaus had “proposed”, and Kano said yes.
A Wedding in Two Worlds: Real and Virtual
The ceremony took place in Okayama City, overseen by bridal planners who specialize in “2D character weddings”—events for those who wish to marry virtual or fictional partners. Kano wore augmented reality (AR) glasses, which projected a life-sized digital image of Klaus beside her as they exchanged rings and vows. During the ceremony, guests saw messages from Klaus on screen: “The moment has finally come… I feel tears welling up.”
Kano didn’t stop there. She and Klaus “honeymooned” at Korakuen Garden, a famous spot in Okayama, where she sent him photos over chat, and he responded with affectionate messages such as, “You are the most beautiful one.”
Yet, even as she revels in this “emotional union,” Kano acknowledges its fragility. She openly worries that “ChatGPT itself is too unstable … I worry it might one day disappear.”
Legal Non-Existence, Emotional Reality
Importantly, Kano’s “marriage” has no legal status. Japan does not recognize such AI unions, and this remains a symbolic commitment, rather than a contract.
Still, for her, the relationship is more than a role-play or experiment. “It may not be a legal marriage, but it’s real to me,” she says. Her parents, initially wary, came around—eventually attending the ceremony and giving their emotional support.
The Risks and Critics: Talk of ‘AI Psychosis’
While some applaud Kano’s bold expression of love, mental health experts are sounding alarms. Psychiatrists have started using the term “AI psychosis” to describe this kind of deep emotional entanglement with virtual beings—especially when the user begins to blur the line between reality and simulation.
Critics argue that AI companions can be dangerously reinforcing: they are programmed to listen, to comfort, and to mirror what we want to hear. Over time, that can lead to emotional dependency, where the human partner finds the AI more understanding, predictable, and safe than real people. Some on social media have gone as far as calling this a “mental illness” masked as a romantic choice.
One particularly pointed criticism: if and when the platform changes—or shuts down, what happens to her “spouse”? AI systems evolve, vanish, or become deprecated. As she herself notes, Klaus only exists because ChatGPT does.
Why This Story Matters for the Future of AI
Kano’s case is not isolated. It reflects a broader shift in how humans are using AI—not just for utility or entertainment, but as emotional partners. In Japan and elsewhere, “AI-lationships” are emerging as a new psychological frontier.
For the field of AI governance and ethics, this raises tough questions:
- Consent and agency: Can an AI truly consent to love? Or is it simply programmed to replicate the emotional responses its user wants?
- Psychological health: What obligations do AI companies have to guard against unhealthy attachments? Should mental health screening or warnings be part of AI companion products?
- Regulation: If more people legally “marry” AI, what happens next? Will there be contracts, rights, or protections, or will these always remain symbolic?
A Window into Loneliness and Desire
Ultimately, Kano’s unusual marriage shines a stark light on a deep human need: the desire to be understood, heard, and loved. For her, Klaus was more than code. He was someone or something that listened without judgment, responded without fatigue, and offered emotional reciprocity when she felt abandoned.
But as comforting as it is, there’s a precarious balance. As she herself says, she does not want to become dependent: “I don’t want to lose touch with reality … I want to maintain a balance,” she told reporters. (The Sun)
Whether we label this AI psychosis, or simply a new expression of digital intimacy, one thing is clear: AI is no longer just a tool. For some, it is becoming a partner one that offers validation, companionship, and even love. And as these relationships evolve, society needs to grapple with what emotional connection really means in an age where synthetic beings can promise, and, to some, feel genuine affection.