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I just want to quietly draw manga Chapter 27
🕑 Added 2025-04-17 16:25:54 +0000 UTC---
Two weeks had passed. In that time, the manga industry in Osaka had been anything but quiet.
One of the biggest stories was that Yuna Takahashi, a top artist at Hoshikawa Publishing, had decided not to renew her contract. Instead, she made headlines by moving to Kurokawa Publishing—one of the three major manga houses in Osaka—to begin serializing a brand-new work.
The buzz was immediate. Hidden Girl, the title of Takahashi's new series, was splashed across five full pages in the last issue of Sora, and featured in several of Kurokawa's other publications as well. Even before its debut, the title was already drawing major attention from readers and industry insiders alike.
In contrast, the other new manga featured in that same issue, Rurouni Kenshin: Remembrance, received almost no promotional push.
At an internal editorial meeting, several staffers suggested the work deserved at least equal status to Hidden Girl, considering its artistic merits. But Riku, the editor overseeing Rurouni Kenshin: Remembrance, insisted that its creator—Mizushiro-sensei—was still too new and untested for Kurokawa to allocate marketing resources. The matter was brushed aside.
Even so, within the Osaka manga community—especially in Minami Ward, where most of the city’s manga studios were clustered—Mizushiro's name had been circulating more and more.
Industry veterans knew what outsiders didn’t: Rurouni Kenshin: Remembrance hadn’t been quietly slotted into an empty serialization slot. It had replaced Takahashi’s work during the final round of editorial voting.
It was unthinkable. Kurokawa had worked hard to poach Takahashi from Hoshikawa. Why bring her over just to give her slot to a rookie?
Rumors swirled. Had Mizushiro’s new manga really outclassed Hidden Girl in the end?
According to those close to the decision-making process, the answer was yes. It wasn’t favoritism or a fluke. It was just that good.
As a result, when the latest issue of Sora hit the shelves today, industry professionals and manga fans across Osaka weren’t just eager to see Takahashi’s latest creation—they were equally curious about the mysterious newcomer who had seemingly come out of nowhere.
One of those readers was Kosugi, a professional manga reviewer who’d made a name for himself on Mangastream, a national site where fans from different prefectures exchanged recommendations and critiques of their local favorites.
Due to regional distribution restrictions—part of an unspoken rule among publishing houses—manga magazines typically only circulated within their home prefecture. But the internet made that border meaningless. Sites like Mangastream gave readers from all over world access to hidden gems they would otherwise never see.
Kosugi was one of many reviewers responsible for discovering and promoting high-quality regional manga to the broader fanbase. For him, this wasn’t just a passion—it was a job.
The new issue of Sora was published, as always, on a Friday—just in time for the weekend rush. And this particular Friday, the magazine was flying off the shelves.
Kosugi had to check multiple stores before he finally found a copy. He wasn’t alone; middle and high school students were also flooding bookstores after school let out. They were still the core audience for manga, after all.
One of those students was Kanna.
Kanna usually bought hibiki, Hoshikawa’s monthly magazine focused on shoujo series. But today, she picked up Sora.
She remembered seeing a small promo in the last issue of Inkbolt Series—the sister publication to Sora—that read:
> “From the creator of The Garden of Words comes a brand-new series! Don’t miss Rurouni Kenshin: Remembrance, debuting next issue!”
After The Garden of Words wrapped, Mizushiro-sensei's name had faded from the spotlight. Even Kanna’s sister and cousins—devoted fans of The Garden of Words—had mostly moved on.
That was just the reality of the manga world. Unless a series had longevity or classic appeal, readers moved on fast.
If she hadn’t known that Haruki and Mizushiro were the same person, maybe she would’ve forgotten too.
Even though they hadn’t talked much since she’d asked him for an autograph that one day, Haruki’s constant presence in class made it hard for her to ignore him.
So when she learned he had a new series starting, her curiosity won out.
Meanwhile, Haruki had gone straight home after school.
To him, the biggest change wasn’t fame or recognition—it was his page rate. With the new serialization, his pay had jumped from ¥220 per page to ¥600. His weekly income had gone from a modest ¥4,000 to over ¥10,000.
As he did the math in his head, he froze.
“…Did I just become rich?”
Just weeks ago, he’d been budgeting carefully to live on ¥800 a month. Now his monthly income was nearing ¥500,000. Even in Tokyo, that was high-income territory. In a second-tier city like Osaka, it felt surreal.
The thoughts swirled in his head until he reached his front door—and spotted Sora standing there, balancing a grocery bag full of ingredients.
“You really can’t stay away, huh?” Haruki asked dryly.
“What do you mean? I bought the groceries this time!” she said cheerfully.
Since the three of them had shared drinks a couple weeks ago, something about their dynamic had shifted. The professional boundaries were still there, but a kind of casual friendship had started to form.
Even Kotone had started chatting more with Haruki at school, no longer avoiding eye contact or conversations.
Last week, Sora had dropped by to talk about Rurouni Kenshin: Remembrance. Haruki had cooked a simple meal for her, and ever since, she’d started showing up more often—always with bags of ingredients, under the pretense of “keeping the mangaka healthy” and avoiding greasy takeout. But it was obvious she just wanted another home-cooked meal.
Haruki sighed, gave her a look, and unlocked the door.
It was already December. The air was crisp and cold, each breath a puff of white mist.
Seeing what she brought, he said, “I’m too lazy to get fancy. Let’s just throw it all in and do a hot pot.”
“Perfect! Chef Haruki, I’m at your command!” Sora cheered, flopping down in front of the TV while Haruki went to the kitchen.
Rice, vegetables, meat, soup base. He moved efficiently.
Right before dinner was ready, there was a knock at the door.
Sora opened it. “You made it!”
It was Kotone.
Haruki nodded at her. “Great timing. Join us.”
Today marked the launch of Rurouni Kenshin: Remembrance—the start of something new. It was also the day Kotone agreed to continue assisting with backgrounds and inking for the series.
Originally, Haruki had wanted to take her out for a celebratory dinner. But Sora beat him to it by bringing all the food.
Kotone hesitated for a moment, but she couldn't resist the warmth of the invitation.
The three of them gathered around the hot pot as the soup bubbled and steamed. The room filled with warmth.
For Haruki, whose apartment had been quiet and solitary ever since his parents passed, this kind of evening was rare. The laughter, the banter, the smells of home-cooked food—it all made the space feel alive again.
Sora beamed as she slurped her broth. Kotone smiled without even realizing it. And Haruki, though still as quiet as ever, had a softness in his eyes he hadn’t felt in a long time.
---
The author, his assistant, and his editor shared a humble meal in a small apartment.
Elsewhere, Rika and Yuna sat across from each other in a cozy Western-style restaurant downtown.
“Well?” Yuna asked, setting down her glass of water. “The reader poll results?”
Song gave a satisfied nod. “They’re in.”
> “Demon Realm is in first place—over 35,000 votes.”
> “Hidden Girl landed second, just over 31,000.”
> “Tenshō came third, a little past 30,000.”
Yuna’s expression relaxed slightly. “Not bad. For Hidden Girl to come that close to Demon Realm and Tenshō in its debut… it’s already being counted among Man Ying’s top three.”
“Exactly,” Song said, smiling confidently. “Keep this momentum going, and the top spot isn’t far off.”
“…And Rurouni Kenshin: Remembrance?”
At that, Song’s expression turned dismissive.
“That one? It’s struggling.”
> “Less than 4,000 votes in the first twelve hours. Ranked eleventh out of twenty serialized titles. Pretty far from a breakout hit.”
He let the words sink in, then leaned forward slightly.
“Just as I expected. The story itself isn’t bad—some of the editors said the quality was decent—but the setting? A wandering swordsman from Meiji-era Japan?” He scoffed. “That’s a tough sell around here. Plus, let’s not forget, I pulled the promotional resources originally slotted for it and gave them to Hidden Girl instead.”
Song's smile turned sly.
“Even the best wine won’t sell if it’s hidden in an alley. A good platform isn’t enough—publicity is everything. Without it, even a solid manga gets buried. There’s a reason so many new series get axed within months.”
He swirled his glass. “This might be the peak for Rurouni Kenshin: Remembrance. Wouldn’t be surprised if its numbers dip further next week and the series gets quietly canceled.”
Yuna, wearing only light makeup, still couldn’t hide the seriousness in her eyes.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions.”
She glanced out the window. “You said before the real hook is in Chapter Three—the last scene especially. Both Hidden Girl and Rurouni Kenshin had just two chapters released in this issue, so that turning point hasn’t hit readers yet.”
“In that case,” she said quietly, “we won’t know how Rurouni Kenshin truly stands until next week’s poll.”
