---
Since that Line message the other day, Sora hadn't contacted Haruki again.
After all, when it came to creating a new manga, the core idea had to come from Haruki himself. At best, she could offer feedback once something was on paper—but the initial spark? That was all on him.
So for the past few days, she'd kept her distance, leaving him alone in his creative bubble.
"You're asking that now?" Haruki grumbled, clearly irritable. "If I didn't have a new idea by now, how the hell would I be drawing three full chapters for the serialization meeting next Friday?"
"Hmm... yeah, fair enough," Sora replied, nodding. "You're clearly deep in the zone. Looks like you've actually been working hard lately..."
But something about Haruki's phrasing caught her attention.
"Wait—original? What do you mean by that?"
"Huh?" Haruki gave her a blank look, like she was making a fuss over nothing.
"What manuscript do you think I'm talking about? Of course I'm working on the finished pages for the new series! Didn't you tell me to prepare three chapters for next Friday?"
"You seriously came all the way here just to waste my precious drawing time over this?"
Sora's eyes narrowed, and finally, the nagging feeling she'd had all along clicked into place.
"Hold on... you're not working on the storyboard for the new series this week? You're already doing the final manuscript?"
Haruki blinked, suddenly realizing what she meant. He hesitated a second, then muttered, "…Yeah. That's right."
Sora stared at him, trying to make sense of what she'd just heard.
"…How much have you finished?"
"Almost done with the first chapter. It's around twenty-five, maybe twenty-six pages," Haruki said casually.
Sora's jaw practically hit the floor.
"Twenty-five to twenty-six pages... in a week? And you did it all by yourself?"
"You've gotta be kidding me!"
She shook her head and threw up her hands. "Unbelievable. Whatever—where is it? I need to see it with my own eyes."
Haruki pointed to a neat stack of paper on the table. "Right there. Knock yourself out."
Still stunned, Sora walked over and carefully picked up the manuscript.
———
As her eyes scanned the first page, the title caught her attention: Rurouni Kenshin: Remembrance.
"I am already dying…"
"So is the era… and the hearts of its people…"
On a quiet night, a lone swordsman sat by a stream, gazing up at the night sky. His expression was calm—but heavy, as though burdened by the weight of a thousand regrets.
The art wasn't flashy. If anything, it was simple.
But in that simplicity was a raw emotion that bled off the page—melancholy, solemnity, sorrow. The stillness of the scene felt heavy, like the air just before a storm.
Sora's gaze sharpened. Her casual attitude vanished.
She flipped to the next page. A sudden shift—chaos.
A group of women ran frantically through a forest, a young child clutched tightly in their arms. Behind them, a gang of human traffickers gave chase—men with dead eyes and bloodied blades.
The women screamed, begged, pleaded.
One by one, they fell.
"Please… let the child go…"
A desperate plea, spoken with tears—and answered only by steel.
In her final breath, one woman whispered to the terrified boy before her life slipped away.
"…Live."
And just as the blade was about to fall on the child—he appeared.
The man from earlier.
With cold efficiency, he cut down the attackers. Not out of justice. Not out of rage.
He simply saved who he could. Nothing more.
Because the truth was cruel: even if he saved this child, countless others would still suffer. The world was too broken. He could only protect what was right in front of him.
And with that thought, he walked away.
But when he returned the next day, he found the boy still there—alone, kneeling in the dirt, having buried the bodies of everyone. The women. The traffickers.
All of them.
Moved by something he couldn't quite explain, the man took the child under his wing.
And gave him a new name—Kenshin.
---
The scene shifted again.
Now older, Kenshin stood on a quiet street beneath the cloak of night. His blade flashed—and in a single, effortless motion, he cut down a man.
But the man's final strike caught him too, slashing across his face. Blood ran down his cheek.
As the dying man collapsed, a fleeting image of a woman's face appeared in Kenshin's mind—beautiful, distant, full of sorrow. He muttered through bloodied lips:
"I… I didn't want to… die…!"
And with that, he fell.
---
That was where Haruki's manuscript ended.
To be honest, Sora didn't completely understand what kind of story Haruki was aiming for yet. The direction, the themes—everything still felt a bit opaque.
But even so, after finishing that short chapter, she felt an undeniable urge to read more.
From the details and historical cues in the story, it seemed clear the setting was Japan over a hundred years ago.
Sora wasn't sure how readers would respond, but when she glanced at the empty Red Bull cans and half-drunk coffee on Haruki's desk, she decided not to nitpick over those kinds of details.
Clearly, he'd thought about it. And if he still chose to set it this way, then maybe it was important to the heart of the story.
So setting that aside, looking purely at the manga from an editor's perspective, she had only one thought:
"…It's incredible," she said quietly.
---
An hour later.
Haruki looked at Sora with a bewildered expression.
"So, when you said I needed to turn in three chapters next week... you meant the storyboards, not the full manuscript pages?"
"That's right!" Sora replied.
The "name"—storyboards in manga terms—are rough drafts that outline the flow, pacing, and composition of each chapter. Editors review those first, and only after approval does the artist begin the final manuscript.
But Haruki? He hadn't followed the usual steps at all. Just like when he first submitted The Garden of Words, he went straight to finished pages—completely bypassing the name stage.
Sora had forgotten that Haruki was still technically a newcomer and hadn't bothered to explain it in detail.
And to be fair, Haruki didn't know anything about the publishing process beyond how to draw.
She never imagined that when he said he was "working on the manuscript," he literally meant the final, inked pages.
And more than 20 of them. In a week. By himself.
It shattered every expectation she had.
The other manga artists she managed could barely produce that much with the help of multiple assistants—and even then, it left them drained.
But Haruki?
He was like a tentacled beast. A one-man manga studio. An unstoppable machine in the manga world of Tokyo.
Planning to finish three full chapters in two weeks—completely solo.
And the way things were going… it seemed totally possible.
Haruki scratched his head. "So… what am I supposed to do now? Stop working on the manuscript and go back to drawing names?"
He felt like an idiot. He'd been pushing himself to the edge—living on energy drinks and barely sleeping—all because he thought he didn't have time.
"Not necessarily…" Sora muttered.
She thought for a moment, then said carefully, "It's not a total waste of effort."
"Even if it was a mix-up, what you've drawn is impressive. I still don't fully get why you made such a sharp turn—from something light and emotional like The Garden of Words to a dark, gritty historical piece like this."
"I can't say how readers will respond until it's finished."
"But one thing I do know—this story is only sixteen chapters long, right?"
Haruki nodded.
"That's a bit short for Sora's mainline serials… but not by much. It's definitely longer than The Garden of Words."
"So here's the deal—if you can bring three strong, well-executed chapters to the serialization meeting next Friday… then I think this could seriously boost your chances in the competition."
"But—" She fixed him with a serious look. "Can you really finish all three in time?"
---
(Author Note: The protagonist in the author's setting is based on the animation of Rurouni Kenshin Remembrance, not the original manga. The reason for this setting is only because the author, after comparing the difference between manga and animation, feels that the animation is either in rhythm or Some of the changed small plots are better than the comics, so I set it up like this!)