Everyone but the protagonist knows that their world is a story, and the girl playing the role of the heroine puts on an act of liking the protagonist (who has zero personality) so that the story can continue. But one day, unable to stand the pressure, she tells the protagonist the truth, and it brings about the end of the world. I just remembered I came up with and scrapped that plot three years ago. After all the characters give up on the protagonist, he gains a personality and redeems himself to the heroine, so they come to love each other. But neither of them can let go of the doubt that “they’re just pretending to like me to keep the world going,” so it was a sad conclusion where, while they did both love each other, they sat back-to-back holding hands as they watched the world end.

There’s a kind of despair that occurs because the bluebird of happiness was next to you all along. When you realize you actually had the thing you wanted already, you can be hit with an unexpected feeling of emptiness, which is dangerous. Like, “The bluebird was there the whole time? Then does that mean not even the bluebird can fill in my emptiness?”

Whenever I visit a new town, I unconsciously wonder, “What would my life be like if I’d grown up here?” As a result, there are now possible “me"s spread all across Japan, living out their lives in the present progressive tense. The one thing I can say they all have in common is, they seem happier than the "me” who exists here and now. The grass is always greener.