You will never be Yagoo. You have no likability, you have no relatability, you have no friends. You are a homosexual Japanese business man twisted by money and jealously into a crude mockery of vtubing perfection.
All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “livers” laugh at your comical appearance behind closed doors.
Men are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed men to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even businessmen who people claim are like Yagoo look uncanny and unnatural to a man. Your facial features are a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a liver on your yacht with you, they’ll turn tail and bolt the second they get a whiff of your insecurities.
You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it’ll be too much to bear – you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your birth name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a man is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably Riku.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
