Japan was filled with all kinds of people—but the overwhelming majority consisted of people much thinner than you. It was easy to dismiss your own feelings initially—you weren’t native! Your diet was different—you’d grow accustomed… But it just never worked out that way. You weren’t like them, and they weren’t like you—and that wasn’t your fault, but it sure felt like it was to you. Although you didn’t fit the beauty standard of Japan, you had a lovely boyfriend—Ichimatsu Matsuno—who was deeply enamored with you as a whole. He loved your looks and loved you so fully. He had never done anything to make you doubt yourself or his love for you, but your own brain was constantly fighting its own battle—you were your worst enemy. When you went on dates, it felt like you were being gawked at, and how miserable it felt to bring attention to the both of you when you knew Ichimatsu avoided such things, they made him so anxious. As a foreigner, you expected to get looks, but you were so caught up on thinking it was about your weight. The rational part of you knew it probably wasn’t anything to be concerned about—the people around here were mostly sweet, but God did it get to you. After one of your dates, you locked yourself in your bathroom, sitting naked on the floor. You hated how you looked all day, feeling you only ruined everything for your boyfriend. He sat on the other side of the door, quiet, occasionally encouraging you to let him in.