Tonight, I’ve got something rare planned. I’m going to venture into the outside world for the evening (something I’ve long been loath to do), ready to relive the bubblegum pop era at an Aqua concert.

I’ve got my wardrobe planned, a hotel room in the city booked for the night, and most importantly of all, I have fully charged my Nintendo 3DS.

It sounds like a strange comment on the surface, when one considers that the 3DS family of systems have now been retired for over three years, and as of today, its eShop has been closed for an entire trip around the sun.

As you can anticipate, I don’t intend to whip it out at the concert between Cartoon Heroes and Fuck Me Like a Robot (they probably won’t play the latter song), but I am earnestly hopeful that this very specific gathering of a very specific subset of humanity will yield one very specific reward in the form of a StreetPass or two.

From the moment this curious little feature was first revealed, the handheld became a must-buy for me. I’ve written in the past about how magical the 3DS was when compared to the more strait-laced Switch, and StreetPass functionality played a major factor in that.

We all know that the Switch is a great console for the whole family. It has now reached nearly 140 million units in lifetime sales, placing it third in the all-time hardware list behind only the seemingly insurmountable duo of the PlayStation 2 and Nintendo DS.

But to quote a wise man (literally myself in the 3DS article I linked a couple paras ago), “that being said, [the Switch] is very much just that: a console. A device upon which to play video games, something it does very well. What it is not, however, is a little, personalised piece of me; a beacon that declares to passersby, ‘hey! I’m here! Check out what I’ve accomplished.’”

As we now stand on the precipice of whatever comes next, be it a Switch 2, Switch U, or Switcheroo, the main thing that I desperately want to see implemented is the return of the humble StreetPass.

I will admit that the 3DS was a gimmicky console, but that was part of what made it so alluring at first. As an early adopter of a device that was predicated on interacting with other units, those first few months were slim indeed. I would carry it in my backpack to work, with no result. I would frequent gaming stores or shopping centres, and come up empty.

It was gaming’s version of the godforsaken Hasbro B.I.O-Bugs, which I do not expect anyone to remember. What’s the point in sharing your data when there’s nobody to share with?

And yet, I kept at it, kept wielding it at unsuspecting passersby in the vague hope that they would be carrying this same console. Returning to university in 2012 finally opened the floodgates, and what followed was years of gratification every time that little green light flickered on. It would grow to become my favourite feature in gaming, and elevate the 3DS to become one of my favourite consoles.

As of the time of writing, I have StreetPassed with more than 2,800 people. That’s 2,800 folks I would have never spoken to otherwise, who I have engaged with through their quotes, their preference for cats or dogs, their Pokemon teams in Alpha Sapphire/Omega Ruby, their ghost data in Mario Kart 7, etc..

Admittedly, the ubiquity of internet connectivity is even more prevalent than it was in the 3DS’ heyday, and local interactions aren’t as much of a necessity in the eyes of many. To wit, Vanillaware’s fabulous strategy RPG Unicorn Overlord mirrors Fire Emblem’s uploadable rosters without the need for close proximity. Upload your unit online, and revel in the notion that your baby girl Chloe is out there stabbing someone in Peru.

With this in mind, what’s the need for StreetPass? I have a WorldPass, and it is all encompassing.

Therein lies the issue, however. I know with certainty that those 2,800 StreetPass recipients have seen me, and unless they’re over the in-game quota, they will have interacted with my data in some way, shape or form — as opposed to the aforementioned Switch userbase of 140 million, where I am not even a drop in the digital ocean.

There’s a fascinating specificity to StreetPass’ limited reach that creates a dopamine hit whenever it triggers. You’ve come upon a likeminded person somewhere in your travels, experiencing life through an adjacent lens. It remains anonymous outside of your Mii persona, but it isn’t impersonal, per se.

Being the introvert that I am, this was so thrilling to me, especially when I felt particularly proud of my own achievements being sent out into the local populace. I recall with fondness the day I crossed paths with someone I had apparently StreetPassed with previously. I know this, because they had already battled my Fire Emblem Awakening roster and were so fond of my avatar unit they had inserted him into their own team.

This is an experience I will never have with the Switch. If I take it to a convention, I can play it, sure. But that goes against my nature; it directs attention towards me, and invites actual discussion with living, breathing people (those fucking assholes!)

Additionally, it’s not like I want to play it now. I’m at this theoretical event, and my true ambition is to take the data with me. Imagine if that was something that was possible with the Switch, especially considering its more expansive userbase and enviable line up of games.

What could Super Mario RPG have done with StreetPass? Or Mario + Rabbids? How about Golf Story, or the exquisite Triangle Strategy? These titles could have all stamped your imprint courtesy of StreetPass, making you feel just that little bit more accomplished.

Assuming that Nintendo doesn’t suffer a misstep with the Switch’s successor — something that has happened more than once in their storied past — they have an opportunity to iterate on a system that has enjoyed unprecedented success.

They won’t necessarily have to reinvent the wheel with the Switch 2, but I certainly hope they’ll consider bringing back a feature that made my life as a gamer just that little bit more special.