Tokyo: The Manga Begins with the Funeral of Frilian

Kamiya Yuu had no idea when the rain stopped.

He only remembers that his wrist started to ache when he drew the thirty-eighth page.

The G nib made a scratching sound as it drew.

Frilian stood before Simmel's grave.

She said.

"I want to know you a little more."

After finishing the last stroke, Kamiya Yuma didn't even have the strength to get up.

He simply lay down on the table and fell asleep.

The morning sunlight peeked in through the gaps in the curtains.

When Shiori Shirakawa woke up, she saw Yuma Kamiya fast asleep, slumped over the table.

She paused for a few seconds, then quietly climbed out of bed.

I tiptoed to the desk.

I saw his eyelashes tremble gently with his breathing.

There was a small ink stain on his cheek, probably from when he was half asleep.

"Honestly, they don't even know to take a shower before going to sleep."

Shiori Shirakawa muttered softly.

But I still wanted to help him wipe that ink stain clean.

Just as their fingertips were about to touch, Kamiya Yuma exhaled, her warm breath touching her fingers.

She instinctively withdrew her hand, her heart racing, and a suspicious blush spreading across her face.

"I just wanted to wipe it off for you, absolutely... absolutely no other meaning."

She stood there for a few seconds.

They breathed a sigh of relief when they realized that Kamiya Yuma had not woken up.

But then he blushed because of his explanation.

  

"Fool!"

Shiori Shirakawa was about to turn around and cover him with a blanket when...

My gaze involuntarily fell on the stack of manuscripts.

Twenty pages.

He actually drew a full twenty pages in one night.

Shiori Shirakawa is somewhat unbelievable.

Her curiosity was getting the better of her, so she picked up the first page and started reading.

The picture is very clean, and the lines are so smooth that it doesn't seem like something a novice could draw.

She continued scrolling down.

Frilian and Simmel travel together.

Let's defeat the Demon King together, and watch the shooting stars together.

Frilian didn't understand human emotions, and Simmel didn't say anything either, just silently stayed by her side.

Then comes the page where Simmel places the flower crown on Frilian's head.

Shiori Shirakawa's fingers suddenly stopped.

There is not a single line of dialogue.

Simmel gently placed the flower crown on Florian's head.

Frillie tilted her head and looked at him, not understanding the meaning of his gesture.

But Simmel's expression was so gentle, so tender, that it made you want to cry.

Shiori Shirakawa's fingertips trembled slightly.

She remembered the sketch paper that had fallen at her feet in junior high school.

"He is a hero."

"What about those little black dots behind the heroes?"

"The students of Ritsuhon-go Gakuen are protected by heroes."

At the time, Shiori Shirakawa only felt that this boy was a little strange.

The things he draws are also very childish.

But now she suddenly understood.

That person has never changed.

He has always been drawing heroes.

When I was little, I drew heroes who protected my classmates; now I draw heroes who protect Frillie.

They are clearly different people with different stories.

But the gentleness in her bones has never changed.

"What the hell?"

Shiori Shirakawa took a deep sniff, her nose stinging.

"You've drawn much better than before."

She seemed to be explaining something to someone.

After looking at it, Shiori Shirakawa put the drawing back on the desktop.

It brushed across Yuma Kamiya's nose.

"Achoo!"

He rubbed his eyes and sat up, his face still bearing red marks.

"Is it morning yet?"

Kamiya Yuma's voice was still a little hoarse, clearly not fully awake yet.

"It's already seven in the morning."

Shiori Shirakawa quickly took a step back.

"You've been drawing all night?"

"I don't even remember what time I finished drawing."

Yuma Kamiya stretched his stiff neck, making a cracking sound.

Then his stomach growled loudly, so loudly that the whole room could hear it.

The two of them were stunned at the same time.

Shiori Shirakawa was the first to realize what was happening and couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Kamiya-kun, your stomach is protesting."

"I had no choice, I ate the croissant you gave me last night."

Yuma Kamiya wasn't embarrassed at all.

He said it with a straight face.

"Then why did you say you weren't hungry! Why didn't you say so earlier!"

"You were taking a shower at the time, I couldn't exactly shout 'Shiori, I'm hungry' through the door, could I?"

"Why not!"

Shiori Shirakawa stormed into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door.

There were only a few eggs and a little bit of leftover miso left inside.

She glanced at it, then glanced at it again, and then took the egg out.

"How about tamagoyaki and miso soup? That's all we have left."

"As long as there's food, that's fine."

Yuma Kamiya stood up and walked to the edge of the kitchen.

Watching Shiori Shirakawa skillfully crack the eggs.

Her movements were swift and efficient; she whipped the eggs into even bubbles in the bowl.

Do you often cook for yourself?

"What do you think? Takeout is expensive."

Shiori Shirakawa added sugar and soy sauce to the egg mixture.

"Civil servants' salaries aren't as high as you think."

"Much better than being a freelancer."

"That's because you're not trying hard enough."

"I've been trying, okay? Look, I drew twenty pages last night."

Shiori Shirakawa paused for a moment.

"That's true."

She admitted it in a low voice.

"The drawing is... actually quite good."

"You saw it?"

I just flipped through it casually.

Shiori Shirakawa's tone suddenly became impatient.

"Don't stand here in the way. Go and tidy up the table. We'll be eating soon."

Kamiya Yuma obediently went to tidy up the table.

The original manuscripts on the table were scattered everywhere, and he carefully organized them one by one.

Arranged in page number order.

Kamiya Yuma was very satisfied.

She still had the basic skills from her previous life at the Central Academy of Fine Arts, plus the experience of drawing comics for several years in this life.

The finished product was even better than he had expected.

"Alright, come and eat."

Shiori Shirakawa walked over carrying two bowls.

The tamagoyaki is cut into neat small pieces, with a light caramel color on the surface.

The miso soup was steaming, with a few pieces of tofu floating in it.

Kamiya Yuma picked up a piece of tamagoyaki and put it in his mouth.

Sweet.

The aroma of eggs blends with the saltiness of soy sauce.

"Is it tasty?"

Shiori Shirakawa asked casually.

"tasty."

Yu Kamiya answered honestly and truthfully.

Shiori Shirakawa's lips curved into a smile, but she quickly suppressed it.

"Then hurry up and eat, you still need to go back after you finish eating."

"Shiori".

"Um?"

"I want to ask you for a favor."

Shiori Shirakawa looked up and saw Yuma Kamiya looking at her intently.

"What is it?" She instinctively became alert.

"Can I use your landline number as my contact number for submitting articles?"

Shiori Shirakawa was taken aback.

Yuma Kamiya continued.

"My own phone is out of service due to unpaid bills, and it would be very inconvenient for the magazine to contact me if I couldn't get through. So I'd like to use your number; please answer it for me if you receive a call."

"Can't you just pay your phone bill yourself?"

"After paying the phone bill, I won't have any money left for food."

Kamiya Yuri said confidently.

Shiori Shirakawa stared at him for several seconds.

Then he sighed.

"Seriously, Kamiya-kun, what's wrong with you? You can't even afford to pay your phone bill."

"So please help me."

Kamiya Yuuma clasped his hands together and pleaded.

Shiori Shirakawa hugged herself with both hands.

"It's not that I can't help you..."

"Thanks."

Seeing the opportunity, Kamiya Yuma immediately smiled.

"But I won't help you for nothing!"

Shiori Shirakawa suddenly raised her voice.

"If the magazine calls, you need to come and answer it immediately. Don't make me just a messenger!"

"Of course."

"And you have to treat me to a meal once a week... no, twice a week!"

"I'll definitely treat you when I get the prize money."

Are you sure you'll get the prize money?