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I just want to quietly draw manga Chapter 78
🕑 Added 2025-04-24 16:58:56 +0000 UTC“The process is simple and crude?” Sora raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.
“How simple? How crude?”
Though part of her was touched by Haruki’s willingness to stand up for her, if he really planned to cause a scene at the Awards… then she had no choice but to stop him. As much as she appreciated his support, Haruki’s future as a manga artist was far more important than hers as an editor.
He was already showing the potential of a top-tier mangaka. But a single misstep—especially early in his career—could ruin everything. The manga industry didn’t lack stories of rising stars destroyed by scandal. Fighting, gambling, online outbursts… even when they tried to make a comeback later, the door had already closed.
“You’ll see for yourself,” Haruki said, his tone deliberately vague.
“Don’t pull that on me. Just spill it already.” Sora narrowed her eyes, then casually slid over five or six bottles of beer. “If you don’t talk, you’re not leaving this booth tonight.”
Haruki glanced at both her and Kotone, then let the silence hang for a few seconds before finally pulling out his phone.
“It’s not that dramatic,” he said as he opened a video from last year’s Awards.
He fast-forwarded to the final few minutes.
“Watch this part,” he said, setting the phone between them. “When the Grand Prize is announced, the winning author goes up first, gives a short speech thanking their publisher, editor, and team… Then they invite their editor and creative team up to share the moment. Right?”
“Right. Standard stuff.” Sora nodded. “And it’s all arranged beforehand. The host has a list—names that were submitted in advance. If anyone deviates, they’ll get cut off or corrected on the spot.”
“That’s the thing.” Haruki leaned back. “It’s all arranged. But if the format doesn’t change this year, I can play along.”
He cleared his throat and mimicked the acceptance speech:
“I’m honored to receive this award. I want to thank Kurokawa Publishing, my assistant Kotone Shirasaka, and of course, my editor—Sora Aizawa—for her dedication. I’d like to invite them all up here with me to celebrate this moment together.”
“Now tell me… what happens if I do that?”
Sora snorted. “What happens? The host will stop you. Your list and your speech won’t match.”
“I’m not so sure,” Kotone chimed in. “The host’s biggest fear is chaos on stage. If Haruki says his editor is Sora, the host won’t question it publicly. He won’t know if there was an internal change or a last-minute update. He’ll probably just… wait and see. If it turns out to be a problem later, it's Kurokawa’s issue, not his.”
Sora's expression shifted as the implications sank in.
“That’s right,” Haruki said, catching her look. “Rika and the higher-ups at Kurokawa will know exactly what I’m doing. But they won’t say a word. They won’t dare push back.”
“Because if they do…” Kotone added softly, “It becomes a PR disaster.”
“Exactly,” Haruki nodded. “One headline the next day could blow this up—‘Manga editor pushed aside at awards by executive favoritism,’ or ‘Industry tensions erupt at Awards over creative credit.’ Whether it’s true or not, once it spreads, they’ll take the heat.”
“All you have to do, Sora, is walk up on stage when I call you. We make it real. A photo, a moment—done. After that, Rika can’t erase you.”
He leaned forward.
“And unless he’s completely unhinged, he’ll keep quiet and let it happen. Because if he opens his mouth, the backlash hits him.”
Sora stayed quiet for a long time, her mind spinning.
“Simple and crude, huh?” she finally murmured.
Haruki grinned. “It’s not sophisticated. It’s just a gamble—on guts. I call him out in public. If he has the nerve to push back in front of the whole industry, so be it. If not, we win.”
“And what if it doesn’t go your way?” Sora asked, voice low. “You’ll burn bridges. You’ll be blacklisted.”
“I’ve thought about that.” Haruki shrugged. “But honestly… so what?”
“You two know me well. I might seem easygoing, but I’m not a doormat.”
“Rika tried to block the serialization of Rurouni Kenshin. When it started gaining traction, he hijacked its promo budget. When we topped the rankings, he tried to step in and claim credit. And now, with the final award within reach, he wants to rewrite history?”
He scoffed.
“I don’t care what Kurokawa or Rika think of me. I didn’t build this with them. I built it with you.”
“I’m not doing this for some petty revenge,” Haruki said, voice calm but firm. “I’m doing it because it’s right. And if it all falls apart... well, I’ll keep drawing. As long as my stories are good, I’ll find a place.”
He turned to Sora.
“So? Are you in?”
-----
The three of them didn’t linger on the earlier topic.
They sang a few songs, had a couple of drinks. But this time, Kotone was more restrained. Noticing that the other two were starting to lose themselves in their emotions, she gently urged them to call it a night.
The taxi ride was quiet. When they reached near Sora Aizawa’s apartment, she stepped out first. For a moment, her back was to them. Then she turned slightly and, after a long pause, finally spoke.
“Thanks, Haruki. Kotone.”
“It’s nothing,” Haruki replied. “If this helps you feel even a little lighter... then it’s worth it.”
At that moment, all three understood: Sora had accepted Haruki’s proposal.
It might be reckless. It might stir up gossip in the manga industry. But now that Haruki had taken this step for her, she wasn’t going to back down.
Classes continued as usual at school that week, but in the background, the second round of the Aurora Manga Award was unfolding steadily.
Each participating manga publisher submitted votes for the top ten finalists. Every local studio’s vote counted as one point, while the seven major publishers, held a weight of ten points.
Rurouni Kenshin, which had taken first place in the first round, carried a bonus of fifty points into the second. Ten more than Blazing Feather, the runner-up.
But the outcome wasn’t guaranteed. Tastes varied, and surprises weren’t unheard of.
Awards were like that—until the results were out, nothing was set in stone.
On Friday, Rika showed up at Haruki’s apartment again.
He greeted him politely as always, played the role of a supportive editor, and presented a new contract.
The shift had been officially announced: Kurokawa publishing was now under the umbrella of Red Lantern Publishing.
But this wasn’t a renewal with Kurokawa—it was an offer for Haruki to join Red Lantern directly.
The contract was generous. The kind offered to top-tier artists at Red Lantern.
Ten years. All new works produced within that period would belong to Red Lantern. The author would receive dividends, albeit at a lower-than-standard rate.
“There’s also this clause,” Haruki said, flipping through the document. “If my series doesn’t get serialized, I still can’t publish it elsewhere? And the penalty for breaking the contract... is ten times what I earn?”
He looked up. “Seems like a lot of restrictions for something that doesn’t promise much in return.”
“That’s normal,” Rika said smoothly. “If you want the full backing of a major publisher, you have to commit.”
Haruki smiled faintly. “I’ll think about it.”
“Of course. But I hope you decide soon,” Rika added. “This offer assumes your work wins the Aurora Award. If Rurouni Kenshin doesn’t place... the deal will look different.”
“We’ll talk after the award ceremony.”
Rika didn’t press further. He stood, smoothed his coat, and left.
Outside, his expression soured.
He'd come offering one of the best deals a high school artist could dream of, yet Haruki had barely hidden his disdain. Most would jump at the chance. But Haruki’s attitude? Cold. Dismissive.
Still, Rika reminded himself—Haruki was young. Once he was signed, once he saw how the industry worked, he’d fall in line.
Another week passed.
On Friday morning, Haruki and Kotone met at the airport, both having taken time off school.
The flight, and their trip, were funded by Kurokawa. Haruki didn’t mind—it was a rare chance to travel.
Kotone wore simple, casual clothes, but still drew attention. Even Rika, already waiting at the gate, couldn’t help but glance her way. Haruki noticed, immediately on guard. This guy had a reputation, and Haruki didn’t trust him around Kotone.
At the airport, they briefly met Daichi, the editor-in-chief. He’d only spoken with Haruki once before, but carried himself with the calm confidence of someone used to leading. Haruki didn’t mind him.
On the plane, Haruki deliberately switched seats with Kotone, placing himself beside Rika.
It was Haruki’s first time flying. He pressed his face to the window, watching as the buildings of their city shrank below them.
“Makes it feel small, doesn’t it?” rika said.
“Tokyo’s on a whole different scale. So much more going on there.”
“Speaking of... have you thought more about the contract?”
Haruki looked over and smiled. “You’ll know my answer after the award ceremony.”
There was something off about his smile—too calm, too certain. It made Rika uneasy, though he couldn’t say why.
“I’ll be waiting for the good news then,” Rika said.
He had high hopes for Haruki. Not just for the award—but long-term. With that kind of talent, Haruki could become the next breakout star. If Rika could tie his career to that rise, it would mean everything.
A future at Red Lantern. A legacy. Even his father would have to acknowledge him then.
He shoved aside his irritation about the seat switch and focused on the bigger picture.
This was just the beginning.
