What we, who cannot let go of 'characters' even as adults, truly wanted.

What should adults do when they feel lonely?


"I used to love character goods, but once I threw them all away, I didn't want them anymore."

The moment I read that sentence in a blog post, a drop of black ink fell into my heart. I felt as if that person's 'likes' had been discarded all at once, and my chest ached.
I am an illustrator, someone on the side of drawing those 'likes.' There is a pain in feeling like my own work has been denied. But at the same time, there is a part of me that understands the feeling of wanting to throw those 'likes' away.
Where the fallen ink spread, the faces of the characters I draw floated up.

While I was feeding my daughter baby food, she started to fuss. No matter how much I tried to soothe her, she turned away.
At my wit's end, I suddenly tried handing her a spoon I had bought at a souvenir shop.
On the handle sat a rabbit, standing politely.
Then, the expression on my daughter's face, which had been so stubborn just a moment ago, changed completely.

She pointed at the rabbit desperately with her tiny finger.
Her cloudy face instantly lit up with a smile as if the sun had come out, and she said, "Ah!" It was as if she were telling me that a friend was there.

It wasn't that I had said anything. It wasn't that the food had suddenly become delicious.
There was just a little rabbit there.
She clutched it as if it were precious, checking the rabbit with every bite. The meal that hadn't been progressing at all disappeared in an instant.

I was surprised by my daughter's completely different attitude, and joy welled up inside me.
My heart was illuminated by those tiny fingertips. As an artist, is there any experience that could give me more strength?
The magic of 'liking' something beyond logic turned a cold spoon, which was just a 'tool,' into a warm 'friend.'

When I was a student, I often went to buy merchandise. Surrounded by things I 'liked,' I carefully selected what I could afford with my allowance. Character keychains were one of those things.
Wanting to keep them in pristine condition, I stored them in their bags inside a drawer.

As time passed and I became a working adult, I started to worry about 'age' and 'public perception.' My priorities shifted due to busyness, and I opened the drawer less and less.

Things deteriorate even if you don't use them.
The metal parts that once shone were now cloudy and felt cold to the touch. The bags had yellowed, and the glue had become sticky.
The darkness I had locked them in to protect them had instead eroded my treasures. I should have just carried them around with me.
If they were worn out, they would at least be memories. But if they are just fading and decaying, aren't they the same as not having them at all?

After becoming a working adult, I felt as if the things I could rely on had suddenly disappeared. There was no one to hold me, and I couldn't just burst into tears.
Nights when I felt down without anyone to talk to, and mornings when I still had to go to work.

Gender and age have nothing to do with the desire to have someone by your side through loneliness and anxiety. That is why I wanted to create characters and goods that would be there for adults who truly wish for someone to be near them.

At the time, it was still perceived that 'characters are for children and women.' I wanted to create something that could also support adults and men. With that thought, I have been drawing for over ten years.

Every time I held an event, I changed my drawing style and art materials, and asked customers for their opinions. To make them accessible to men, I used a laser cutter to engrave characters onto leather.
However, the things I had tried and tested so many times did not spread as I had hoped, and my disappointment and impatience grew.
I was hurt by the backs of people who walked right past me.
As the years went by, it was I who stopped believing in my work.

Somewhere in my heart, I had started to think that my work was just junk that was 'unnecessary' for living, and that it truly had no meaning or value.
I was doing my best just to protect the fading light so it wouldn't go out.

The rabbit that made my daughter smile and changed her behavior. It quietly gives courage to the heart.

Characters must have the power to support someone in that way.
I want my work to be someone's 'favorite' too.
Back then, there was still resistance to adults owning them.
And even now, in moments when my heart suddenly sinks, I wish for an 'invisible friend' to be by my side. I wish for them to be with me in my daily life and to heal me.

I open the drawer for the first time in a while.
The keychain is still cloudy, but when I touch it, the warmth of my hand slowly transfers to it, and it becomes warm.
It is a treasure that has been properly cast with the magic of 'liking.' Even if I don't use it, the peace of mind that it is always there saves and fulfills my heart.

Deep in the hearts of their owners, even without them noticing, they continue to watch over them quietly.
It is a preparation to gently be there for someone on a night when they are crying.

Even that black ink stain can turn into their round, shining eyes if I run my pen across it.
In a world that demands usefulness, I want to keep drawing 'friends' who are not useful.