The Secret Life of Ayumi Takanaka

A New Plan

Tokyo felt like a dream.

The streets were alive with neon lights, the chatter of pedestrians, and the rhythmic melody of train stations announcing departures. Every corner I turned, I saw something straight out of a manga or anime. I was finally here.

But now that the excitement of arriving had settled, I needed a plan.

“Alright, so what’s your next move?” Ayumi asked as we stepped out of the train station, Luffy trotting beside me in his carrier.

I already had my answer. “I’m gonna stay at a manga café for a while.”

Ayumi blinked. “A… manga café?”

I nodded. “Yeah. They’re cheap, open 24/7, and have tons of manga. I can use the time to study both Japanese and storytelling while I figure things out.”

Ayumi frowned. “You do realize manga cafés aren’t exactly luxury hotels, right?”

“Of course! But they have free drinks, internet, and even showers. It’s basically a small apartment if you don’t mind the lack of space.”

Ayumi sighed, rubbing her temples. “Let me get this straight. You finally make it to Japan, you’re about to start a new life, and your brilliant plan is to… live in a closet filled with comic books?”

I crossed my arms. “It’s not a closet. It’s a strategic learning environment.”

She let out a long, dramatic sigh.

“You’re an idiot.”

Ayumi suddenly turned on her heel and started walking.

“Come on. You’re staying with me.”

I blinked. “Wait, what?”

She didn’t even look back. “I said, you’re staying with me. My place has more than enough room, and besides, my office is there too.”

Luffy barked in approval. I, on the other hand, was still processing.

“Hold on. You’re offering me a place to stay… for free?”

“Obviously. You’re supposed to be my assistant, right? Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to be close to where I work?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it. She… had a point.

“But won’t it be inconvenient for you?”

“Not at all,” she said with a smirk. “Besides, it’ll be fun watching you freak out.”

That last part worried me.

We hopped into a taxi, and as we drove through the city, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. Ayumi lived in Tokyo, so her apartment was probably super modern and stylish. Maybe one of those minimalist places with the fancy sliding doors.

I wasn’t expecting a mansion.

The taxi pulled up to a five-story Western-style mansion. The kind you’d expect a CEO or a celebrity to live in. My jaw hit the floor.

“What… is this?”

Ayumi paid the driver and stepped out casually. “My house.”

House?!

Luffy let out a tiny whimper, possibly from sensing my soul leaving my body.

I stood frozen, staring at the massive estate in front of me. The iron gates alone looked expensive, and the garden was pristine, with neatly trimmed hedges and a small koi pond.

“I—wha—how?!” I sputtered.

“You’re really bad at forming sentences under pressure,” Ayumi teased.

“No, seriously! How can you afford this?! You’re, like, what—24?”

She shrugged, unlocking the gate. “23, actually. And I have a successful job.”

“Doing what? Running a secret underground business? Selling rare Pokémon cards?!”

“Something like that,” she said with a mysterious smirk.

I frowned. There was something she wasn’t telling me.

Inside, the mansion was even more absurd. A grand chandelier, a massive living room, and a kitchen that looked straight out of a cooking show. The floors gleamed, and the whole place had that expensive “smells-like-rich-people” air.

“Alright, sit down,” Ayumi said, plopping onto one of the ridiculously plush sofas.

I did as told, still in a daze. Luffy hopped onto my lap, wagging his tail.

Ayumi leaned back, arms crossed. “Okay, time for the truth. The reason I can afford all this is…”

She paused for dramatic effect.

“I’m a manga artist.”

I blinked. “Okay…?”

“Not just any manga artist.”

She pulled out her phone, opened a website, and shoved it in my face.

My soul left my body for the second time that night.

It was a page from Jump Weekly.

The featured series? “Celestial Exorcist.”

A top-ranking shonen manga.

My eyes darted to the author’s name: Tenshi Hoshikawa.

It clicked.

“W-WAIT. YOU’RE TENSHI HOSHIKAWA?!”

Ayumi grinned. “Yup.”

“THE CREATOR OF CELESTIAL EXORCIST?! THE MANGA THAT GOT AN ANIME LAST YEAR?!”

“That’s me.”

I nearly fainted.

Celestial Exorcist was a worldwide phenomenon. It followed a teenage exorcist who hunted celestial demons invading the mortal world. The fight scenes were legendary. The storytelling was insane. And Ayumi was the one who created it?!

“You’ve been a famous mangaka this whole time?!” I practically shrieked.

“Well, yeah,” she said casually. “Didn’t think it was relevant.”

NOT RELEVANT?!

“How—how do you live so normally?! You don’t even act famous!”

She shrugged. “That’s why I use a pen name. If people knew my real identity, they’d never leave me alone.”

My brain short-circuited.

Ayumi Takanaka—the girl who spent half the flight complaining about airplane food—was one of the biggest manga artists in Japan.

Ayumi stood up, stretching. “Anyway, now that you know, I expect you to work hard as my assistant. My office is on the first floor, and you’ll help me with cleaning, organizing drafts, and running errands.”

I was still in shock, but I nodded slowly. “O-okay…”

“Oh, and you can have any room you want except mine. Just don’t get lost—this place is big.”

I gulped. “You say that like it’s normal.”

She smirked. “Get used to it, newbie. Your life just got a lot more interesting.”

I glanced down at Luffy, who seemed just as stunned as I was.

“What did we just get ourselves into?”

Luffy let out a small, knowing bark.

This was just the beginning.