Osaka is literally me. No other character can come close to relating to me like her. There is no way you can convince me that I’m not Osaka. Osaka could not possibly be any more me. It’s me, and nobody can convince me otherwise. If anyone approached me about this not possibly being me, I immediately shut them down with overwhelming evidence that Osaka was me. Osaka is absolutely me; it is indisputable. Why anyone would try to argue that Osaka is not me is beyond me. If you held two pictures of me and Osaka side by side, you’d see no difference. I can safely look at Osaka every day and say, “Yup, she’s me.” I can practically see Osaka whenever I look at myself in the mirror. I go outside, and people stop me from commenting on how similar I look and act as Osaka is. I chuckle softly as I’m assured every day Osaka is me in every way. I can smile each time I get out of bed each morning, knowing that I’ve found my identity with Osaka and I know my place in this world. It’s amusing how similar she is to me; it’s almost like identical twins. When I first saw Osaka, I had an existential crisis. What if Osaka was the real me and I was the fictional being? What if she actually became aware of my existence? Did she have the ability to become self-aware?