In Memory of Kazuki Takahashi

It was confirmed yesterday that Mr. Takahashi had died in a diving accident. As a Yu-Gi-Oh! fan who had been following the anime since the second or third grade of elementary school, I was still a little stunned when I first heard the news.

The Yu-Gi-Oh! anime and manga had accompanied me throughout elementary school, middle school, high school, and university. Only after I entered graduate school did I gradually drift away from it because of my experiments. Even so, Yu-Gi-Oh! remained my favorite anime series. No matter how many novels I write in the future, how advanced a degree I earn, or how great my achievements become, I will never forget the anticipation of turning on the television every night in elementary school to catch the latest Yu-Gi-Oh! episode, nor will I ever forget the excitement I felt when I assembled my first deck.

The emotions held within those memories were incomparably precious, like marks eternally engraved upon our long lives. Or, to put it another way, these tiny memories gave us the courage to keep going when we faced setbacks, sorrow, and failure. Our lives were sustained by such little moments of joy and emotion.

Mr. Takahashi's passing felt like the end of an era. Although Konami, the company that sold cards, was still around, when Yu-Gi-Oh! reached its thirtieth or fortieth anniversary, we would never again be able to buy cards personally created by Mr. Takahashi, nor would we ever again see theatrical films designed by him.

For me, and for all Yu-Gi-Oh! fans, this was an immensely regrettable and heartbreaking thing.

But no matter how impossible it was for us to accept this, we all knew that Monster Reborn did not exist in reality. All we could do was accept the truth and wish Mr. Takahashi