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I just want to quietly draw manga Chapter 74
🕑 Added 2025-04-23 17:05:00 +0000 UTCUnlike Haruki and Kotone, most manga creators in the Award weren’t even stopping to eat. Their eyes were glued to the contest site, watching the real-time fan counts tick upward.
By now, the word was out—Rurouni Kenshin's explosive growth wasn’t random.
The final two chapters hadn't been uploaded yet, but reactions from early readers were pouring in. Judging by the review section alone, the emotional impact of the ending was undeniable.
Industry veterans and aspiring artists alike stared at their screens, stunned by the momentum.
Between 6 and 7 p.m., Rurouni Kenshin gained over 13,000 new followers—nearly triple the best hour of Blazing Feather, the current frontrunner.
Then came another spike: over 20,000 in the next hour.
And it didn’t stop there. All night, the manga pulled in more than 10,000 new followers per hour.
It made no sense.
The series had already sold 600,000 copies during serialization—most of those readers were expected to be early voters. So where were these fans coming from?
Was it because Haruki had submitted more than one series?
No one had a good answer.
By midnight, with the final two chapters about to go live, Rurouni Kenshin had hit 990,000 followers—surpassing the second-place series and breathing down Blazing Feather’s neck.
Renji and his editor stared at the monitor in silence.
From 800,000 to nearly a million in one day. It was surreal.
What stood out even more: most of the new followers were tagged under the Osaka region. That wasn’t just a regional bump—this was a wildfire.
At 1:00 a.m., the final two chapters went live.
Across the country, readers stayed up. Editors. Artists. Critics. Fans. No one wanted to wait for morning.
Renji clicked in instantly.
And for a few long minutes… nothing.
Then the silence broke.
“I couldn’t hold back my tears. That final embrace between Kenshin and Tomoe—I couldn’t breathe. Mizushiro-sensei, how could you do this to them... and to us?”
The comment was quickly buried under a flood of emotional responses. Tributes to Tomoe. Heartbroken reactions. Messages thanking Mizushiro for telling such a story.
Even with the heartbreak, no one turned away. If anything, it deepened their attachment.
“If Kenshin and Tomoe don’t win, then who should?”
“Blazing Feather? I dropped it weeks ago.”
What began with MangaSteam readers was now a nationwide wave.
Comment sections across the site were being hijacked—hundreds of users flooding in with glowing praise for Rurouni Kenshin. What might have passed as isolated chatter had become impossible to ignore.
Renji’s editor looked grim. “This is bad. If every manga’s feed is full of Kenshin comments… even diehard fans will get curious. And once they read it…”
There was no need to finish that thought.
They pushed last-minute posts on social media, urging people to support Blazing Feather. But it felt like shouting into the wind.
Meanwhile, in a quiet room, Airi Tanaka sat at her desk, eyes red.
She stared at the image of Tomoe and Kenshin in their final embrace.
Sorrow. Warmth. Catharsis.
This wasn’t just good storytelling. It was something unforgettable.
Airi reached for her phone, opening Line—then paused.
Instead, she opened MangaSteam.
Normally, she chose her words carefully. But not tonight.
“There’s a manga in the Award I need to recommend: Rurouni Kenshin. A healing, soul-stirring story that had me crying… and smiling through the tears.”
-----
It was past midnight when Airi posted on Line, but late nights were when most young readers were still glued to their phones.
Airi wasn’t just any manga artist—she was one of the brightest stars under Echo Shroud Publishing, one of the top seven publishers in the industry. Her fame had grown fast and early. She debuted at just fourteen, and her breakout series Shadow Thorn quickly jumped from a newcomer’s magazine to the company’s flagship publication, Shroud Line Weekly. Despite some criticism about its plot, the series cemented her as a name to watch.
Then came Dream World, her follow-up project. It ran for two years and dominated popularity polls, even outperforming many veteran creators in the same publishing house. By now, her fanbase was enormous and fiercely loyal, despite her almost non-existent social media presence—updates were rare, and replies rarer.
So when fans got a notification that Airi had commented on something new, it immediately caught attention.
“Rurouni Kenshin: Remembrance...?”
“A work from a Aurora manga award?”
“What kind of series could move Airi to call it a ‘healing masterpiece’? Did she really say it made her cry?”
One reader, Sora Ishida, paused when he saw the post.
He’d heard of the Aurora Manga Award—it was a national competition, though he rarely paid attention to entries from outside the major publishers. But Airi’s recommendation changed that.
If someone capable of creating a hit like Dream World called it “a warm cry,” then it had to be worth a look, right?
Sora wasn’t usually into emotional stories. He read manga to relax, not to get his heart stomped on. But something about the way Airi phrased her comment—like it had reached her personally—piqued his interest.
He opened the Aurora Award’s official site and checked the rankings.
Unsurprisingly, the title she recommended was sitting comfortably in the top three. If it were buried at the bottom, maybe he would’ve hesitated. But now? No reason not to dive in.
Click.
The webpage loaded.
The art style was good. A bit of an old-fashioned aesthetic, maybe, but clean.
But then—
Half an hour passed.
An hour.
By 2:00 a.m., the room was silent except for the occasional sound of a mouse click.
Then finally, a quiet voice:
“…Damn. It really is the warmest gut-punch I’ve ever read.”
Sora leaned back, eyes wide and a little red. He had intended to read something light before bed. Instead, he got Rurouni Kenshin: Remembrance. And now he couldn’t sleep at all.
Scenes kept replaying in his mind: the scar carved into Kenshin’s cheek… the final embrace with Tomoe. He’d reread those pages a dozen times, trying to process them. Each time, they hit harder.
He glanced back at Airi’s post. The replies had exploded.
Some fans were complaining her for not warning them about the emotional whiplash. But the top-rated comment took a different approach:
“Airi-sensei has such sharp taste! Out of over a hundred entries, she picked this god-tier comedy—my stomach hurts from laughing, my eyes from crying. 10/10, would recommend!”
It had over 100,000 likes, full of laughing reactions and gifs of crying anime characters.
New readers jumped in with skepticism, only to return hours later with their own stunned endorsements.
“I thought this was a joke. I’m a veteran manga reader—don’t try to troll me.”
[One hour later]
“Okay, I take it back. Funniest sad story I’ve ever read. I’m crying. Somebody hold me.”
Ishida couldn’t help laughing. Somehow, knowing others were as emotionally wrecked as he was… made him feel better.
He shared Airi’s post immediately, adding his own note:
“Just finished reading. This manga is pure magic. Airi-sensei never misses.”
He reposted it on both Line and MangaSteam, then refreshed the contest site.
The fan count had shot up—from just over a million to nearly 1.1 million. The gap between Rurouni Kenshin and the current first-place series, Blazing Feather, was shrinking by the minute.
Ishida stared at the screen.
“Come on… catch up!”
Sure, he preferred lighter, uplifting stories. But even he had to admit—when a tragedy was this beautifully done, it was unforgettable.
And Rurouni Kenshin: Remembrance?
Yeah, it had him hooked.
