"Number one at the Aurora Manga Awards…"
Haruka let out a quiet chuckle, but the amusement didn't last long. A thoughtful look crept across his face as his smile faded into a sigh.
"It's good to be young," he murmured. "That kind of fire… daring to speak, daring to dream…"
"When I first started out, I had the same passion. When Celestial Book got its first feature, I remember thinking I'd shoot straight to the top. I even believed my work might be published internationally one day, seen and loved around the world."
He paused, then shook his head with a wry laugh.
"But now? I don't even let myself think about things like the Aurora Awards anymore."
Shinji, sitting beside him, gave him a gentle nudge. "You're what, thirty? Thirty-one? Don't talk like you're some old veteran. There's still plenty of space for you in the future of manga."
Haruka smiled faintly. "Yeah, you're right… I guess seeing Mizushiro-sensei up there just made me feel ancient for a second. But you're right—we're not old yet. Maybe I'm just being dramatic."
As if to shake off the melancholy, Haruto suddenly stood, raised his glass, and called out over the low murmur of conversation.
"Well said, Mizushiro-sensei! Whether you win or not, just daring to reach for the top—that deserves respect!"
Shinji let out a small groan, covering his face with one hand. He'd known Haruto for years and was well-acquainted with his flair for dramatic timing. His voice wasn't exactly quiet either, and with the ceremony still underway, heads turned.
But no one seemed to mind.
"Ah… thank you, Haruto-san," Haruki said with a tired but sincere smile, recognizing him from the glow of the stage lights.
They hadn't spoken before, but Haruki had taken note of Haruto earlier in the evening. As the author of Celestial Book, he'd been a prominent figure all night—someone Haruki had quietly admired from afar.
Though Masaru had tried to cast a slightly teasing light on Haruki's bold declaration earlier, most attendees took it as youthful confidence—or clever showmanship. Like a rookie athlete calling their shot before the first game. Ambition wasn't a crime.
After a few more questions from Masaru about his student life and work habits, the stage lights dimmed, and Haruki stepped down.
The room brightened slightly as the orchestra struck up a soft arrangement, signaling the transition to the reception portion of the night.
But the atmosphere around Haruki had clearly changed.
No longer just the quiet newcomer, he now drew attention from every corner of the room. As he returned to his table, a quiet storm of interest began to gather around him.
He barely had time to say hello to the others at his table before the crowd began to form—editors, fellow artists, even senior publishers drifted over like bees to a fresh bloom.
From Kurokawa staff to artists from rival magazines—even Haruto and Shinji joined in, drinks in hand.
"Yuuki-kun, that was quite the showing," one senior editor said with a grin. "Creating something like Rurouni Kenshin: Remembrance at your age? That's no accident—you've got real skill."
Haruki rubbed the back of his neck, flustered. "Ah… I just followed a spark of inspiration, really…"
"Mizushiro-sensei!" a younger artist chimed in. "I'm Kentarou Amami, the author of Moon Wolf. Just wanted to say—I'm a huge fan!"
"Thank you, I appreciate that," Haruki replied, bowing his head slightly.
Someone else raised a glass. "Sensei, a toast—also, would it be too much to ask for an autograph? My son's obsessed with your work."
Haruki chuckled. "Of course. Happy to."
Before long, the once-quiet corner had turned into the liveliest spot in the venue.
Twenty minutes later, Haruki sat back in his seat, dazed, eyes wandering over the chandelier-lit hall.
Has no one announced the end yet?
If this keeps up, I'm going to pass out from exhaustion.
The drinks weren't strong, but there had been so many—endless toasts, endless conversations. His head was starting to spin.
I really shouldn't have come to this event…
I wasn't brave enough to say no, but now I'm regretting it.
Just as the orchestra began its final piece, Haruki prepared to relax—only for two more figures to approach.
Still light-headed, he turned and squinted.
A man and woman, both striking in appearance, made their way over with relaxed confidence. The man had a sharp presence, someone clearly accustomed to being in the spotlight.
"Good evening, Mizushiro-sensei," the woman greeted warmly.
Haruki blinked, then recognized them.
Rika and Yuna Takahashi. He knew the names. They were well-known at Kurokawa. Rika was the second-most talked-about rising star at the company, often considered a rival to the Sora.
Despite himself, Haruki stood to greet them.
"Although we've been competing since our respective serials began, this is the first time we've met in person," Yuna said with a friendly tone. "Let me offer a toast."
Haruki hesitated. He really didn't want another drink—but refusing could seem rude.
So, he raised his glass.
Rika, too, raised his. There was no hostility—just careful politeness.
Haruki wasn't particularly fond of them, but that didn't mean he could be cold. Not in this setting.
"Mizushiro-sensei, allow me to properly introduce myself," Rika said, offering a bright, professional smile.
Haruki held up a hand, stopping him before he could continue.
"I know who you are, Deputy Editor Rika," he said with a light, amused tone. "You made quite the impression at tonight's annual meeting."
Deputy Editor...
Rika paused for a moment. It wasn't unusual for people to refer to him by title, but rarely without the accompanying honorifics. The way Haruki said it—so casually—felt unexpected.
This Mizushiro-sensei really was young, and yet... perceptive.
Their conversation had drawn a few glances from the surrounding crowd. After a beat, Rika offered a polite smile and extended a business card.
"Mizushiro-sensei, it's always good to connect. Here's my card—feel free to reach out anytime."
With that, Rika and Yuna exchanged a few more pleasantries before walking off, leaving Haruki with the card in hand.
He hesitated, but accepting it was the polite thing to do. Once he returned to his seat, though, he crumpled the card and quietly dropped it into a nearby trash bin.
Kotone, watching from the side, had seen the whole thing.
"Why'd you throw it away?"
Haruki glanced at her, frowning slightly. "Why would I keep it?"
He gave a small shrug. "Sora—the one who backed Rurouni Kenshin: Remembrance—works with him. Rika's always had this subtle way of trying to one-up me. Even if it's not direct, it's constant. I've just never had a good feeling about him."
Kotone raised an eyebrow. "You're not even going to keep it just in case?"
Haruki chuckled. "Are you worried I might actually use it?"
"No... but you never know," she said, cheeks faintly pink.
He laughed, voice low and teasing. "You really think I'd call him? You don't give me much credit."
Kotone sighed. "I know you're just joking, but honestly, I'd be disappointed if you did."
"Then I'd lose my best assistant," Haruki replied with a grin. "Don't worry. Without Rika—and without you—I'd be completely lost."
Kotone rolled her eyes but smiled. "I'm not going anywhere. But don't let it get to your head."
Just then, the orchestra's final notes faded, and Sora and Masaru stepped back onto the stage. After a few words, they formally brought the Kurokawa Annual Meeting to a close.
(TL:- if you want even more content, check out p-atreon.com/Alioth23 for 50+ advanced chapters)