15 years, huh.
Back then, what I often said to everyone on the team was, "It might not sell that well, but let's make a cult game that enthusiasts will still be talking about 10 years from now."
With a small team, limited budget and time, and not thinking our talents were particularly outstanding, that's exactly why we kept thinking about how to compete, and by pushing the team too hard, we somehow managed to complete it.
During production, I listened to HIDE's Everfree every day while riding my bike through the city streets at night. "The continuation of your dream, called nonsense, is still trembling in your chest"
And on release day, while going around stores and watching from afar the people buying it, I also heard talk that the initial reception wasn't great, and it made me realize my own limitations.
But in the end, it became a game celebrated even after 15 years. Simply put, I was blessed with good people, customers, and luck. Many people I don't see much anymore, but thanks to the people I met through this game, my life changed.
I won't forget that gratitude, and until the day the market no longer needs me, I think pushing through with my own creativity, even though it's tough work, is my way of making peace with it.
While I also feel like someday I'd like to reminisce and talk in detail about those times, I don't want to become an old-timer obsessed with the past.
Thank you so much so far. But I want to think that my story is still ahead. The way of fighting has changed, but continuing to fight until the end, and ending on a forward-leaning note when it's over—that's my heartfelt wish.
Thank you, Danganronpa.
I love you more than anything.