Afterword

This is Yuusaku Sakaishi. Thank you for picking up this book.

What did you think of Rich Girl Caretaker, Volume 3? Following Hinako and Tennouji-san, this time the story revolved around Narika.

…And that’s it for talk about the main story. What follows is just some silly rambling to fill up the afterword space.

I recently figured out why I struggle with afterwords: it’s because I’m anxious that “showing the behind-the-scenes” might turn readers off.

Even someone like me, a writer, thinks about things like “I want to explore this theme” or “I hope readers feel this way” when crafting a story. But putting those thoughts into words and sharing them with you all feels a bit like I’m forcing my personal values as a writer onto you, and I’ve always been a little resistant to that.

For example, when watching a movie, I sometimes smirk to myself, thinking, “Oh, this scene probably has this kind of intent behind it.” But then, when I later read an interview online where the director clearly states, “This scene was meant to convey this,” it hits me like I’ve been slapped with a definitive answer.

An author’s own spoilers are, without a doubt, the absolute truth. Because it’s the truth, there’s no room for other interpretations to coexist. That sense of restriction is something I really struggle with.

This happened a long time ago, and I don’t even remember what show it was (probably Passionate ○ Continent), but a young, famous painter was being followed by a camera crew. One day, a cameraman asked the painter, “What’s the theme behind this painting?” The painter snapped back, “Figure it out yourself. Don’t be lazy.” It was such a harsh response that I was shocked, but I wonder if that painter might have had a similar mindset. Or maybe this perspective is actually common, and other writers share it too. I’ve never talked about this kind of thing publicly, so I wouldn’t know.

At the very least, I’m the type who prefers to figure out the intent behind a work on my own, and I enjoy the ambiguous state of not knowing whether my interpretation is correct. I’m not sure if I’m expressing this well, but I love savoring the curiosity of wondering about the “right answer.” It’s the state that sparks my imagination the most, and it’s my favorite. It also makes discussions with others more lively.

Bringing it back, my complicated personality has made writing afterwords a real hassle. I’d worry, “If I say this, will it turn readers off? If I write that, will I be forcing the ‘correct’ answer on them?” Those thoughts made me spend, no joke, ten times longer on afterwords than on the main story for the same word count. In fact, just writing this afterword has already taken me about five hours. Thanks to that, I’ve finally realized something. Writing an afterword with the mindset of “This is the passion I poured into my work!” doesn’t seem to suit me. From now on, I’m going to write afterwords more casually and freely.

…Or so I thought, until I glanced at my past afterwords and saw that the one for Volume 2 was already super carefree. Oh, so that’s the vibe I should’ve gone for… I’m kicking myself now, but I don’t want to rewrite this, so I’m sticking with it. My bad habit is always starting things too seriously. I want to be a little dumber with my first step.

[Acknowledgments] In the process of writing this book, I received tremendous support from the editorial team, proofreaders, and everyone involved. To my editor, thank you for brainstorming the themes for Volume 3 with me. To Sakura Miwabe-sensei, thank you for once again drawing each heroine so adorably. Gal Narika is absolutely adorable—she completely surpassed my imagination. And finally, to all the readers who picked up this book, my greatest thanks.