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I just want to quietly draw manga Chapter 225
🕑 Added 2025-07-07 19:17:26 +0000 UTCMay 17, 4:00 p.m.
As soon as class ended, Ryuko rushed back to the dorm.
Shower. Hair. Makeup. Outfit change.
By the time she was curling her bangs, her three roommates were lounging around, watching her prep like an audience at a stage play grinning, whispering, occasionally outright laughing.
“Would you look at her,” Ayae said, nudging Satsuki. “And she still insists there’s nothing going on with Mizushiro.”
“Yeah,” Satsuk isaid, resting her chin on her hand. “I’ve never seen her dress up this much, not even when she went to meet company execs. But for this guy? Full transformation.”
Tsumugi chuckled from the bunk. “Honestly, I’m just glad she’s finally celebrating a birthday. The past two years she didn’t do anything, and now suddenly, party time? We owe Mizushiro a thank-you.”
“Can you all stop?” Ryuko looked up from the mirror, annoyed but clearly flustered.
“I’ve said it already we’re not dating. Things are... in the early stages. Don’t scare him off with weird questions when he shows up, alright? Let’s act normal.”
Ayae raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been after him for five months. Who spends that much time on someone and still says they’re ‘just friends’?”
“Right? If I were a guy and someone like you chased me for that long, I’d be head over heels by now. Unless he’s... y’know... not into girls.”
Ryuko rolled her eyes.
“I’m just saying,” Tsumugi added. “You’re putting in effort. He’s got a reputation. We’ve barely seen him outside of promo pics. All I want is to meet him in person and make sure he’s not some sweet-talking creep.”
“Exactly,” Satsuki said. “You can’t be too careful with famous types.”
Ryuko sighed. “Look he’s not a flirt. He barely even knows how to socialize, let alone play games with people. When you meet him, you’ll see what I mean.”
Still, the three girls exchanged knowing looks. None of them bought her denial for a second.
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Haruki was pacing through a shopping district, staring blankly at display windows.
He was completely lost.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford a gift anything he saw, he could buy. But the problem wasn’t money. It was implication.
He didn’t want to buy something that felt like a boyfriend’s gift—cosmetics, perfume, jewelry, dresses. But he also didn’t want to give something so generic it looked like he didn’t care.
He groaned.
If things between them were normal if Ryuko hadn’t confessed to him, if their dynamic wasn’t so... weird he would’ve just walked into a boutique, asked for something nice, and been done with it.
But now? Anything too personal would be misread. And anything too bland would be awkward.
A plushie? Too childish.
Flowers? Too obvious.
A cake? She already has one.
Every option either said “I like you” or “I didn’t try.”
He sighed, rubbing his temples. There were only three hours left before their meeting, and he still had to go home, wrap the gift, and get ready.
He stopped on the sidewalk, mentally reviewing everything he knew about Ryuko.
Okay. Think. What does she like?
After a few moments, an idea started to form.
Ryuko’s party wasn’t extravagant. Just a casual gathering in a big karaoke room near campus. She’d invited six or seven classmates, plus a few friends from other departments and two cousins.
And, of course, Haruki.
She’d chosen the location specifically because it was close to his place. She didn’t want to give him any reason to skip out.
Her roommates were right: she hadn’t celebrated her birthday in years. This whole thing was an excuse. A carefully planned setup to lure Haruki out of his creative cave for once.
And it was working mostly.
People had already arrived. The music was loud, snacks were being passed around, and the cake was sitting prettily on the side table surrounded by colorful boxes and gift bags.
Ryuko kept checking the time.
7:37
7:45
7:47
7:51
She remembered the last time they’d gone out to the amusement park. He’d shown up exactly on time. Not a minute late. Not a minute early.
That was just the kind of person he was.
Still, her fingers were clenched tighter than they needed to be around her phone.
He said he’d come.
He will come.
She hoped.
And then at last the door to the room creaked open.
