Kanade will never be a real Japanese. She has no Jomon genes, she has no manners, she has no culture. She is a Korean woman twisted by the internet and delusions into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection. All the “validation” she gets is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind her back people mock her. Her parents are disgusted and ashamed of her, her “friends” laugh at her ghoulish appearance behind closed doors. Japaneses are utterly repulsed by her. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed Japs to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even Yayoi who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a Japs. Her bone structure is a dead giveaway. And even if she manages to get a drunk Jap convinced, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of her diseased, unnatural plastic surgery wounds. She will never be happy. She wrenches out a fake smile every single morning and tells herself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside she feels the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush her under the unbearable weight. Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - she’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around her neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Her parents will find her, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury her with a headstone marked with her Korean name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a Korean is buried there. Her body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of herr legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably Korean. This is Kanade's fate. This is what she chose. There is no turning back.