I write, badly but I make it seem like I know what I'm doing.
"This is not a slice-of-life. It's a slice-of-death" that’s what some pulpy B-movie review might proclaim. Now, let us plunge into the tangled tapestry of Eiji’s existence, a quintessential post-pandemic soul, dissecting his despair with the precision of a jaded scholar—as one does in these bl...