Afterword
AS SOMEONE WHO always dreaded things like class field trips and culture festivals (and also just found school to be a pretty miserable experience in general), I can’t help but wonder whether I would have (selfishly) seen the COVID-19 pandemic as a blessing in disguise if it had happened while I was going through puberty. Not to imply that I think there’s anything remotely positive about a global health crisis, of course—and I sincerely hope that we’ll all be back to traveling, going to concerts, and throwing parties again before long. I realize that I’m coming from a place of privilege when I speculate about things like this, as someone who did get to experience all of the usual events and outings that come to mind when you picture an average high school career.
But I do think there must be some people out there who feel like they “lucked out” with the current state of the world. Kids who felt secretly (or not so secretly) relieved when they first heard the announcement that schools would be closing until further notice or found out that their class trips had been canceled. I wouldn’t dare to suggest that these students’ self-centered feelings in this regard are as urgently important as the present-tense suffering and grief the virus is still causing people to this day, but I do find it interesting to think about how different types of people see and deal with tragedies. I don’t think it’d be quite right to say that I actively sympathize, per se, but I figured that maybe by writing this book, I could at least express that I understand those kinds of perspectives without tacitly condoning everything about them. I tried to write it in a way that could be enjoyed by anyone, of course, but if this story provides any measure of solace to even one person who feels like they’re in a pretty dark place right now, I think that would mean more to me, as an author, than anything else.
Now for some words of appreciation.
To my faithful editor, Mr. Hamada: It’s been about three years now since we put out our first book together, but I think it’s only recently that I’ve realized just how much our constant back-and-forths full of tangent upon tangent have become such an integral part of the creative process for me. I hope we can work together for many years to come.
To my incredible artist, KUKKA: Thank you for blessing these humble pages with yet another set of jaw-dropping illustrations. You’ve also stuck with me from the very start, and I still feel the same huge burst of motivation anytime you send me your work as I did when we worked together on my debut novel, so I’d be very happy if I could continue to request your services going forward. I’m also just a really big fan, to be quite honest.
Finally, to my loyal readers: This book would never have been possible without your continued support. Nor would we be right on the cusp of a feature film adaptation of my very first novel, The Tunnel to Summer, the Exit of Goodbyes, which is coming out in theaters this September. There are no words to express how grateful I am to each and every one of you. I intend to keep writing for as long as I draw breath, so I hope you’ll continue to support me no matter where my career takes me next.
And on that note, dear reader, I leave you. Until we meet again.
MEI HACHIMOKU
2022