Tokyo: The Manga Begins with the Funeral of Frilian

At the end of the year, an awards ceremony was held in the banquet hall of an old hotel in Tokyo.

The annual author recognition event held by Shueisha used to be a small gathering within the industry.

This year, however, things have broken with convention, as a media representative has been included.

Everyone knows perfectly well that there is only one main character tonight.

Kamiya Yuma was wearing the suit that Shirakawa Shiori had ironed three days earlier.

Standing outside the side door of the banquet hall.

Shiori Shirakawa stood beside him, helping him straighten his tie.

Is it tight?

"It's not serious."

"When you go on stage later, don't say anything strange."

"When did I ever say anything strange?"

"In the last magazine interview, they asked you what inspired you to create Frillie, and you said it was because the hamburger steaks your family makes are so delicious."

"That's the truth."

Shiori Shirakawa let out a sigh.

She loosened his tie and then gently patted his shoulder.

"Go."

The banquet hall was brightly lit.

A champagne tower sits atop a long table. The editors are dressed in suits.

The cartoonists were also dressed in suits, looking neat and tidy. They huddled together in groups, chatting amongst themselves.

After the bursting of bubbles in the economic sphere.

It's not easy to see an industry gathering of this scale.

When Yuma Kamiya stepped inside.

Everyone's eyes turned to him.

Yoshikawa Taro was the first to step forward, carrying two glasses of champagne.

  

"Kamiya-kun."

He handed me one of the glasses. "Do you remember what you said to me in that conference room back then?"

"I said trees can't grow to the sky."

"right."

Yoshikawa Taro clinked glasses with him. "Back then, I thought you were an arrogant brat. Now it seems I was the arrogant one. You said readers don't lack the need for battles, but rather that they don't need battles in every manga. You said those who buy your manga don't want to see winning, but rather how to cope with losing. Every word of those two sentences is correct."

He paused, then downed his champagne in one gulp: "Japan lost. Businesses lost, banks lost, the whole country lost. But you won, your comics won, your Frilline won. You truly grew a towering tree from ruins."

Takahashi walked over from the direction next to him.

He was also holding a glass of wine in his hand.

"Kamiya-kun, I want to apologize to you."

He raised his glass. "I'm not apologizing for what I said at the serialization meeting. From a business editor's perspective, I didn't say anything wrong. What I want to apologize for is—"

He paused for a moment, then said, "I only realized after reading volume eleven that this manga was never meant for teenagers, but for everyone who hasn't yet learned to let go. I'm following the updates every week now, and I cry every time there's a flashback. My wife is used to it."

Yuma Kamiya clinked glasses with him.

"Deputy Editor-in-Chief Takahashi, you were right when you said this wasn't a shonen manga. It really isn't a shonen manga. It's a story about someone looking back on their childhood as an adult."

Takahashi paused for a moment, then finished his drink.

"Oh shit."

He put down his cup. "What you said makes me want to cry again."

When the spotlight began to shine, Editor-in-Chief Tanaka went up on the stage.

He was holding the trophy for the best work of the year in his hand.

"This year's Best Work was unanimously voted by the jury. This has only happened twice in Shueisha's history. The last time was Dragon Ball, and the time before that was..."

He smiled. "There won't be a last time."

A burst of laughter erupted from the audience.

"Please welcome Yuma Kamiya, author of 'The Burial of Frilian'."

Yuma Kamiya walked onto the stage and accepted the trophy.

The spotlight was so bright that he couldn't even see the faces of the people in the audience.

However, he knew the location of Shiori Shirakawa.

In the third row, near the aisle, Hoshino Rin is on the left and Onodera Ryota is on the right.

"Thank you, Editor-in-Chief Tanaka, thank you, Senior Onodera, and thank you everyone at Shueisha."

He placed the trophy on the podium, "but I don't want to talk too much about comics tonight."

The audience fell silent.

"What I want to say is that in this crazy era, some people buy real estate, and some people speculate in stocks. But my proudest investment is hiring my financial manager."

He looked towards the third row.

"When I couldn't even afford to eat, she bought my entire life with a bag of croissants and a plate of tamagoyaki."

The spotlight shone down on the audience, and Shiori Shirakawa sat motionless in her seat.

Her cheeks quickly changed from pink to deep red, a change that was clearly visible.

Hoshino Rin whispered from the side, "Senpai, your spiritual pressure is stronger than the Demon King's right now."

Shiori Shirakawa kicked the person under the table.

"There's one more thing."

Kamiya Yuma said into the microphone, "Director Yoshikawa just said that I grew a towering tree in the ruins. But I want to say that it wasn't me who grew the tree in the ruins, but rather someone who planted me in the ruins without even knowing it."

Shiori Shirakawa lowered her head.

Her fingers gripped the hem of her skirt tightly above her knees.

The knuckles have turned white.

Kamiya Yuma didn't continue speaking. He picked up the trophy and then walked off the stage.

When she returned to her seat, Shiori Shirakawa did not raise her head.

"I'll settle the score with you when we get back."

"I guess so."

Kamiya Yuma sat down. "You're the finance manager, you can calculate it however you want."

In the corner, Hoshino Rin opened her sketchbook.

She quickly sketched a draft on the blank page.

In this sketch, a figure stands under a spotlight. A girl sits below. The girl is surrounded by crimson grass.

She wrote a line below the sketch: "Master's master is his wife, and his wife planted a tree."

Ryota Onodera glanced at it sideways, put a cigarette in his mouth, and chuckled, "Your drawing is much better than last year, kid."

Two years later.

The final chapter of "The Buried Frilian" is about to be released.

The second season of the anime achieved record-breaking viewership.

It broke the previous record for NHK's late-night programming.

The cumulative sales of the standalone editions have exceeded 30 million copies.

However, in that apartment in Itabashi Honmachi, the low table still held three dishes and a soup, and the refrigerator door still had that hand-drawn schedule chart.

Every day at ten o'clock, I stop writing.

The lights are always turned off at 11 o'clock, and it has always been the same, without ever being changed.

The original manuscript of the final chapter was placed on the drawing table in the master bedroom.

Hoshino Rin was sitting next to the drawing table, holding a dip pen in her hand.

She hasn't worn a mask for quite some time.

Her complexion was much rosier than it had been two years ago. The pressure marks on the bridge of her nose had also long since disappeared.

"You draw this double-page spread."

Yuma Kamiya said.

Hoshino Rin paused for a moment: "But this is a crucial double-page spread in the final chapter..."

"You draw it."

Hoshino Rin remained silent for a few seconds.

He then sat down and picked up the pen.

Her slender fingers gripped the pen tightly, but then she slowly lowered it.

The pen tip moved slowly across the paper.

There was not the slightest hesitation.

In the image, Frilian stands before Simmel's grave.

Behind her was a vast grassland that stretched as far as the eye could see.

The wind made her silver hair flutter, and the sky displayed a blend of cobalt blue and ultramarine.

The composition is quite similar to the first page of the first chapter, with only one difference.

A faint smile played on Frillie's lips.

Behind her was a large patch of blooming crimson grass.

Hoshino Rin finished the last stroke of her drawing and then put the pen down.

"Master, I've buried the version of myself who used to only study demon anatomy diagrams in this double-page spread."

Shiori Shirakawa stood at the entrance, holding three cups of tea in her hands.

Her eyes were a little red, but she didn't cry.

Kamiya Yuma slowly stood up.

Then he raised his hand and gently patted Hoshino Rin's shoulder.

"Starting tomorrow, you'll no longer be an assistant. Go talk to Onodera-senpai about your serialization project."

Hoshino Rin turned around and looked at him.

His mouth moved slightly, but no sound came out.

"You are now capable of being independent. Two years ago, you knelt here begging me to take you as my apprentice. Today, two years later, you are ready to graduate."

Hoshino Rin bent her waist extremely low.

Then he bowed deeply to the other person.

"Thank you, Master."

She straightened up and looked at Shiori Shirakawa.

Shiori Shirakawa handed her the tea. Then, without saying a word, Shiori simply reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Rin Hoshino's eyes finally reddened.

The evening after the deadline for submitting the final chapter.

Yuma Kamiya and Shiori Shirakawa stood beside the ginkgo tree below the apartment building.

The sunset presented a beautiful scene. The ginkgo leaves were a golden yellow color.

It looks just like it did on the day we moved two years ago.

"Shiori".

"Um?"

"The manga has ended. Frillie's story has come to an end."

Yuma Kamiya took something out of his pocket and held it in his hand. "But there's a story I want to start writing now."

Shiori Shirakawa looked at him without saying a word.

A breeze blew from the tops of the ginkgo tree, causing her bangs to flutter.

Yuma Kamiya opened his palm.

It's a ring.

It is extremely simple. There are no diamonds or patterns present.

It's just an ordinary silver ring.

Like the two mugs on top of the refrigerator, they are solid-colored and without many unnecessary items.

"In the comics, I left Simmel with a regret. He was a hero who needed to give his life for the world, so the words he didn't have time to say could only be hidden in that crown of flowers, hidden for fifty years, until Frilian finally understood him, but he was already gone."

He looked into her eyes. "But I'm not a hero. I'm just a comic book artist, and my world is right here."

Shiori Shirakawa looked at him, her lips moving slightly: "Kamiya-kun—" "This time, I don't want to keep my feelings for you until a hundred years later."

Shiori Shirakawa lowered her head, her gaze falling on the ring.

The setting sun shone on the silver ring, which reflected a faint halo of light.

"You idiot."

Her voice trembled, "We've waited so many years, what's another hundred?"

"Difference."

Yuma Kamiya said, "I don't want to give in even for a day."

Shiori Shirakawa raised her hand, gesturing for him to put the ring on his finger.

She then lifted her feet so that her toes touched the ground.

Then her lips touched the corner of his mouth.

The setting sun slowly sank in the west, casting long, long shadows of the two people. Golden ginkgo leaves drifted down to their feet, creating a dazzling golden scene.

The wind was blowing from the other end of the alley, and the scene was different from that rainy night many years ago.

That night, the rain fell heavily, and it was also very cold.

On this night, a gentle breeze is blowing, creating a very warm feeling.

It took Frilian a hundred years to finally understand Simmel's feelings.

Simmel spent a hundred years but still couldn't utter those words.

But many of them are no longer important.

The key point is that there was someone who picked up a painting that had been blown down by the wind from a corner of the junior high school playground, and there was someone who waited for ten years to finally hear those words spoken.

There was a person who planted a tree that would never wither or fade amidst the ruins and bubbles.

At Itabashi Honmachi, the night slowly began to light up.

One by one, the lights of the houses came on, stretching out towards the horizon.

Shiori Shirakawa pressed her face against his shoulder.

The eyes are closed.

As the sun set, her long eyelashes cast two faint shadows.

"Go back and cook: tamagoyaki and hamburger patties. It's your turn to wash the dishes today."

"it is good."

Kamiya Yuma took her hand in his own palm.

Then they interlocked their ten fingers together.

The ring was at just the right temperature.

It was as if it had been worn in that place for a very long time.

He raised his head and looked toward the window on the fifth floor of the apartment building, which was lit by a warm yellow light.

Rin Hoshino is currently in the kitchen.

According to the staff meal standard procedures set by Shiori Shirakawa, Rin Hoshino will be trying to cook a meal by herself for the first time in her life.

A sweet fragrance wafted gently from the window.

The aroma is somewhat similar to that of tamagoyaki (Japanese rolled omelet), but it's not exactly the same.

Kamiya Yuma grinned.

Then she started walking towards the stairs.

The story of "The Burial of Frilian" has ended.

But some stories will never end.