Megan has always carried two worlds. The public figure with charting singles. The anime fan who studies arcs, frames and fight scenes. The filmmakers needed a way to honor both without reducing either. The reenactments started with her reality. The late night street. The pressure in her chest. The moments she could describe but never relive on camera. Animation gave her distance without losing the truth. Every frame respected her boundaries. Every expression held the weight of what she survived.

The style stayed grounded in Japanese animation. Clean silhouettes. Sharp camera moves. Eyes that carried emotion without exaggeration. The goal was not fantasy. It was clarity. A language she already trusted. A form that protected her from being retraumatized on screen. Fans felt that intention. They called the scenes deep, powerful and necessary. They said the visuals finally made the industry’s mistreatment visible. They said the reenactments helped them understand the moment she was shot, the fear she carried and the grief she hid. They noticed the accuracy of her features. They recognized the respect in that choice. The animation did what live action could not. It made the violence real without spectacle. It honored her mother’s presence without intrusion. It let Megan be human in a world that kept trying to flatten her.