REINKED- I Agreed Mostly Out Of Mutual Understanding, But If I Really Start Thinking I May Get An Ulcer

“So, let me get this straight.” I take a sip from the just served coffee and hold in my pain from burning the roof of my mouth. After a second, I continue. “You want me to write a story so good it changes the world of not just manga, but literature forever?”

“That is what I just asked of you, yes.” She confirms, sipping her own coffee and showing no sign of pain. Scary…and hot…

“That sounds impossible.”

“Not for you.” She smiles as she says it. I feel my heart squeezing at the mere sight of it. Oh god, I lucked out super hard.

“Look, I don’t want to put down my work, but I’m not Fujimoto or Ohba. Those guys have talent beyond just tapping their fingers against their keyboards which, If I'm being honest with you, is exactly what I'm doing." I admit, rubbing my arm. It hurts to say something like that when she's so persistent, but even if she likes my work, It's important she really understands who she's so wildly going after.

“I don’t want you to be either of those two.” She points at me, her intense eyes fixing on mine. “Only you can write like you do. It’s not inherently good, but if sharpened, it could be unique and amazing enough to change everything.” I gulp at her unabashed praise. What the hell has this girl thinking so highly of me? I can hardly take it.

“Well…I may not agree, but I appreciate your shared sensibilities. I don't think I've met somebody as into my bizarrely violent delusions as I am. So, out of the interest of being with someone who feels that way, I can give it a shot.” I gulp, reaching out my hand. She returns the favor, and we shake on it. In storytelling terms, I've met with my point of no return.

“I like to hear that.” She says with a smile.

“Uhm…is…is that all?” I ask.

“Pretty much. I figured, hey, this guy may be super weirded out by this girl spouting strange nonsense at him, but honestly, you were reasonable enough that I didn't have to go that far. That was way easier than expected. Wanna just head out now?” She offers before downing her coffee and putting money on the table. “Don't worry, you’re paying next time.” She assures me with a grin.

“Oh, okay.” Of course I am. Next time, yeah, next time! Hahaha! May as well just treat this like its normal, cause I know as soon as I start thinking, I’m gonna get an ulcer so large it bores its way through my skull! So, rather than considering the implications of going to a girls place, I just down my coffee as well, forgetting it’s scorching hot, cry quietly, and get up. Sami waves to the waiter at the counter serving someone else before taking my hand and quickly walking us out of the café and onto the city’s sidewalk. The feel of her soft hand gripping mine tight makes me feel light. I could get used to this.

Down the many streets we walk. The sight of passersby in their own worlds leaves me lost. Somewhere, in thousands of people’s own lives, I exist. Even if my role has no lines, I exist, and if they were to be given perfect clarity, they could maybe even recognize me. My existence is something entirely lost to my own control, and the way I'm perceived has been stolen from me since the moment I was taken from my mother's womb.

Something about that makes my spine turn cold.

What the hell am I thinking about? Augh, best to not worry about it.

We eventually arrive outside an apartment building. The place seems about as nice as the one I live in a few streets away. As such, I pretty comfortably walk toward the front entrance. As we make our way inside, Sami says something that worries me.

“Don’t worry about my brother, he’s just a bit bizarre, okay?”

Now what the hell is that supposed to mean? A pit forms in my stomach. It grows larger and larger as we walk up the stairwell, almost trip on the last step, enter the fifth floor's hallway, and finally begin to slow, reaching the door to her apartment. Staring at the room number, I begin to wonder if there’s any numerical significance to 609 when the door opens and a shaggy haired boy pokes his face out. He eyes us both up before letting us both in. I tip toe inside, doing my best not to make eye contact, when I feel my body freeze up. The whole living room…it's filled with bookcases. Each one is neatly filled to bursting with books.

Novels, Light Novels, Manga, Comics, Magazines, Doujins, Zines from groups I’ve never heard of. They all cause me to fill up with excitement. Then I walk further ahead and see the rest of the living room.

The table is surrounded by stacks of pages of drawings. Completed sketches for what I assume are doujins from the recognizable character designs, and storyboards for a wide range of projects, surround the area.

“Wow…you guys certainly are artists. Erm, I assume some of this is your brother’s as well.” Mostly because this is way too much for just one person to be doing. Unless this is all her. In which case, what the hell is wrong with this woman?

“Correct. Bro, mind grabbing us some iced tea?” Sami asks the boy, who nods slightly before moving to the kitchen. The hair color and red eyes are a perfect match. Honestly, so were the looks. If he were dressed in more feminine clothes, he could easily pass for a woman. Maybe beauty really is a genetic thing. I sigh, sitting down against one of the bookcase-covered walls. The only furniture in here, in actuality, were the bookshelves and the table.

I guess anything else would get in the way of paper space.

“You guys don’t do digital?” I ask as the two walk in and take their seats next to me. The tea cups are passed out and Sami chuckles.

“We use it for final inking. It just feels easier to sketch on paper, you know? More tactile.” She makes a movement with her hands, like she's holding a pen. Maybe muscle memory?

“I get you. I draw sometimes, and it always feels better using a pencil than a digital pen. Though, I’m really more of a writer, so it doesn’t affect me too harshly, hehe.” I sip from my cup and laugh a little. For some reason, my nerves have yet to fully calm down. God, how did I get here? I'm in a hot woman's house, drinking her tea, meeting her brother, seeing her art, and It all feels so dreamlike, I'm starting to wonder if this all really is a dream. Eventually, after some time of silence, I get a question from Sami’s brother.

“Are you gonna be our writer?” He asks, his voice gentle and sweet. I gulp. Wait, why do I feel like I want him to fall in my arms and ask me to be more. Augh, no, he's too feminine, I can't take it!

“I…suppose I am, yeah.” I answer, looking forwards in embarrassment.

“Yeah, Keisuke may end up wanting to borrow you for some of his own projects. I hope you don’t mind.” Sami gives another heart smoothing smile and I shake my head like an idiot.

Time passes, and a calming quiet falls over us all. The sounds of outside reach through the windows, cracked open just slightly, allowing the vehicles and walking persons below to form an orchestra for my racing thoughts. I wonder…

I wonder how I got here.

I just said yes to coffee. Now I’m going to be spending possibly days with the prettiest girl I know. No, manga making is long, hard work. It could easily be years of constant contact.

Not to mention…what she said…

“I want you, Yuta.”

That feeling of clicking. Of meeting on the same wavelength. It’s still there, deep in my heart. She must understand. It’s stupid to think like that about someone you’re only now coming to understand, but I’ll gladly be stupid if it means I get to keep this feeling.

If becoming a mangaka is all it takes, then I’ll gladly become the best mangaka there is.

“Sami.”

“Hm?”

“If we work on this manga, can I go on another date with you?” I stare her in the face, my determination overwhelming my embarrassment.

She responds with cheeks turning red.

“A-another date?” She asks. “W-when was the first one?”

Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god.

“I-I'm sorry!"