Translated by SoundDestiny
How many days have passed?
I just keep on drawing manga.
Fatigue and sleep deprivation plague me and my consciousness becomes dazed and foggy.
Correspondingly, the story unfolding in two dimensions reaches its climax and intersects with reality.
Eventually, my ănowă and the ănowă on paper are completely linked.
There is no convenient happy ending.
No dramatic bad ending is provided.
It doesnât work as a punchline, itâs just a throwaway.
If this manga were submitted for the Newcomerâs Award, it would definitely be unsuccessful.
The story ends with a miserable, effeminate monologue by the protagonist.
ăIf you allow me, I would like to see you again, Konata.ă
I put down my pen with unsettled feelings.
âItâs done. Konata. This is my manga.â
I send the manga I drew to the only significant person to her account via DM.
âI donât know if Konata will read this. I donât know if sheâll read it and come back.â
Still, my heart is filled with a mysterious sense of fulfilment.
âI did what I had to do. The rest is up to you, Konataâ
If this doesnât convey my feelings, then thereâs nothing I can do about it.
I guess thatâs all I am after all, a mangaka of that level.
Soon, an intense dullness hits my body, as if the earthâs gravity has increased.
I lay down on the messily spread futon as if I was collapsing.