The faint smell of ink and instant coffee lingered in the dimly lit studio. Yuuta’s hand moved on its own, the pen scratching against paper in soft and repetitive strokes.

“Yuuta.” A voice comes from the doorway. He turns his head to see a girl standing, looking straight at him, arms crossed, wearing her usual annoyed-but-worried expression. “You’ve been at it for five hours now. Come eat before you pass out, you idiot.”

“Sena.” He blinked, his hand stilling. He looked down.

It wasn’t the storyboard he was supposed to be working on for this week’s deadline.

It was… a girl.

A girl sitting in the middle of a park, legs tucked to her chest, a sketchbook resting on her knees. Her face was soft, almost melancholic. She felt real — too real.

Sena walked over and glanced at the page. She raised an eyebrow. “So this is your type, huh?”

Yuuta didn’t laugh, nor did he answer. He just stayed silent. As if it was something that he just couldn’t answer. He stared at the drawing, brushing his thumb against the face of the girl as if it might jog a memory. His hands tingled, as if he had traced the same lines a thousand times before.

Yuuta got up from his table and walked to the dining table in the kitchen to have his food.

“Welcome sir.” A voice came from the kitchen. “You sure took your time tonight.”

“Yeah… I got stuck again. Nothing just felt right.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Sena interrupts the chat and says, “You guys do remember that tomorrow is the interview for the assistants?”

Yuuta looks up and says, “Well, Hiro is the one taking the interviews, so it doesn’t really matter to me, does it?”

Sena adds, “Why doesn’t it? It does to you more than it does to Hiro.” Yuuta sits attentively. Sena jabbed a chopstick toward him. “Hiro’s not just filling chairs, you know. He’s picking your second brain — someone who’ll make or break your deadlines.” Yuuta’s gaze sharpens as a sense of seriousness crosses his mind. “And it’s all because you just don’t want to disclose who is behind the rising mangaka.” 

“Right. Yuuta, you better take this seriously. I will try my best to get the best candidate as well. As for now, just enjoy the food and take a good rest.” Hiro called from the kitchen, voice warm but firm. Yuuta agrees. 

The next morning, Yuuta woke to the familiar clatter of metal and chaos. From the kitchen came the sound of utensils crashing and Sena’s strained voice mid-sentence.

“Good morning! Hope you had a wonderful slee— ah, crap—!” she said, wobbling at the counter, arms full of spoons and bowls, her legs shaking under the pressure.

Yuuta blinked. “Why are you carrying all of them at once?”

“I just thought—one trip—less mess—” she replied through gritted teeth, clearly losing the battle.

Just then, Hiro barreled past Yuuta like a human hurricane. “LUNCH! HAND ME THE LUNCH, I’M LATE!”

Sena spun, nearly dropping a plate, and somehow managed to chuck a battered lunchbox toward him. Hiro caught it mid-run, gave it a split-second glance, shrugged, and bolted for the door.

Yuuta stared after him. “What happened to him?”

Sena, calmly sorting utensils into cabinets, answered without looking up. “He was up all night panicking. Kept muttering stuff like, ‘What if I forget how to interview?’”

Yuuta scoffed. “I can understand being nervous for an interview — but not when you’re the one taking it.”

—

The nameplate outside the studio read ‘Rising Dawn Manga Studio’. Shimmering a little in the late morning sun, almost taunting Hiro as he stood before it, frozen.

He stepped inside, heart pounding louder than his footsteps. The last time Hiro conducted interviews for Yuuta’s assistants were quite hectic. Everyone just wanted to work for him but never knew what they actually had to deal with and once they knew, they didn’t even stay along for a week. And well, all the complaints came back to Hiro and made a traumatic experience for him.

One hour later, Hiro sat behind the desk, now cloaked in a thin illusion of authority. His hands no longer trembled — just twitched occasionally. As this time, he wanted a drawing assistant, all candidates were quite sophisticated and focused on their interviews and tasks. Unlike the fans from the last time, they showcased diligence, determination and a desire to be his assistant and actually learn from him.

The stack of resumes had thinned. Just one more.

Almost done.

“Next.” he called, voice steadier than he felt.

Suddenly, the air inside the studio got heavy, catching Hiro’s undivided attention. He felt a strange feeling nudging him something is calling out for him. The door knob clicked as a girl walked in. The girl who stepped in didn’t fidget like the others. Her steps were slow, confident — not loud, but grounded. She placed her portfolio down like she’d done this a hundred times… or maybe not in a long time.

“Please have a seat.” Says Hiro. As she sat down, without even glancing at the girl, he picked up the resume he had and started going through the resume. “Ogawa Shiho… So what has been your experience so far— wait…” He stopped. His trembling hands slowly put the resume down to look at the girl. He suddenly feels at ease looking at the girl and proceeds to continue the interview without any hurdles. 

Hiro furrowed his brows and asked, “What made you want to apply for being an assistant for a mangaka?”

Shiho, focused and striving, replied, “I stopped drawing for a while.” Looks around the studio and returned her gaze to Hiro with a warm and endearing smile, “This… felt like the right place to start again.” Hiro fixes his eyes onto her smile, still and unreadable. 

“Do you think you can stay put with him?” 

“Yes. I believe so.” Shiho replied with sharp eyes. “And I promise to myself that I will make things better now.” she continued as her eyes softened with every word she uttered.

Hiro looks into her eyes. Hollow, but calling. A voice, reaching out to Hiro, with the passion she put forth. After gazing into her eyes for a moment, he replies quietly, “You’re in.”

—

“Yeah sure! Yes, I will be there. Thank you very much!”

Yuuta glanced over from his room to see who Sena had been talking to for so long. ‘Who is it?’ Yuuta thought to himself as he rose from his seat, pausing his work. While walking out to the living room, he bumped into Sena making both of them fall down.

”Ow!” Exclaims Sena, “Sorry…”

“Oh no, it’s fine.” Says Yuuta as he got up and started rubbing his butt indicating he definitely felt the impact. “Are you hurt?” Yuuta asked while helping Sena get up by lending her a hand.

“No, I’m fine…” she says. Suddenly, her face changes and her eyes wide open with urgency. “Yuuta, are you done with the draft for this weekend? The studio said that they want you to get it done by this weekend at any cost.”

Yuuta looks at Sena with an unfulfilling look while scratching his neck, “I actually just can’t get things done right now. I don't know but things just don't flow in right away on the paper. I need some time.” Looking down, feeling guilty about making Sena stand in the way of a business that he needs to be responsible for.

“Yuuta…” Sena catched the guilty look “Let’s slow down for now alright? We’ll go at your pace.” She says.

“I am really sorry Sena. I didn’t really mean to get you into this situation when I first got you this position.” 

Sena scoffs as she shoves his apology away, invalidating it, “Remember 3 years back? I signed up for this. There’s no need for apologising. Just do your work, because that’s where you best excel at. You need not worry about trivial matters, alright?”

Yuuta looked down with guilt on his face, nodded in agreement.

—

*3 years before*

Yuuta sits on the sofa, with his hands folded and his mind lost in his own thoughts. “Yuuta,” says Hiro, “how long are you going to wait around? I know it won't be easy, but it'll be worth it.” Suddenly, the door bell rang. Hiro looks towards it. He got up and opened it.

The door creaked open to reveal a girl standing just outside, holding her phone in one hand, her brows furrowed in mild frustration.

“Uh… sorry,” she said, tilting her screen toward Hiro, “I swear this is the right address, but I’ve circled this damn place twice and still can’t find the room.”

Hiro blinked. The girl in front of him didn’t exactly look lost — more like she was done being lost. Her hair was a warm chestnut brown, tied up carelessly in a ponytail with a pen stuck through it like a makeshift hair clip. A few strands clung to her forehead, slightly damp from the summer heat. She wore an oversized t-shirt tucked into faded jeans, the kind of look that said function over fashion, but still managed to look weirdly cool.

There was a band-aid wrapped haphazardly around her finger, and a bag slung over her shoulder, weighed down enough to make her lean slightly to one side. Her gray eyes flicked from Hiro to the hallway behind him, sharp but not rude. Just… observant. Like she’d already sized him up and was waiting for him to catch up.

“Oh…” Hiro said, stepping aside. “You found it. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

Hiro walks in with the girl into the living room. The girl took one step in and stopped dead in her tracks.

The room was a battlefield.

Sketches were everywhere — not just on the desk, but on the floor, on the wall, even one draped over a lamp like a failed flag of surrender. Crumpled paper overflowed from the wastebasket and spilled across the wooden floor like tumbleweeds. An open cup of coffee sat on the edge of the desk, half-full and definitely cold, right beside a stained mug from who-knows-when. Socks — at least, she hoped they were socks — were bunched in a corner near the kotatsu, and a half-eaten convenience store sandwich had been tragically forgotten on the window sill.

The curtains hung lopsided, one side pinned up with a clip, the other drooping like it had given up. Clothes were draped over the back of a chair, a hoodie half-hanging off the bedpost. The only sign of life in this chaos was the rustle of pen on paper.

At the center of it all, Yuuta sat cross-legged on the floor, hunched over a page, ink staining the side of his hand, hair uncombed, eyes sunken — completely oblivious to the disaster zone around him.

Sena exhaled. “God help me.” she muttered under her breath. 

Hiro noticed her concern and asked her to calm down. He pushed aside some paperwork on the couch, patting a couple times to make sure it's clean and asked her to sit down.

Hiro’s face lit up with excitement as he came up to Yuuta and said, “Yuuta, this is Sena Watanabe, your new assistant.” 

Yuuta, uninterested, looked at Sena with a dreadful look, clearly indicating he’s not in the mood to talk or socialise but still forced himself to. Sena started fixing her hair, becoming conscious every second as Yuuta tried to stare at her.

Hiro noticed the heavy atmosphere and clapped to divert the attention to himself. “Well, Yuuta, introduce yourself.” Says Hiro.

Yuuta sighed heavily and scratched the back of his neck, “Nice to meet you. I’m Yuuta.” And turned to his table, picking up the pen and observing the panel he’d been working on.

Sena ignored the cold interactions and rose from her seat. She started to look around the room acknowledging the mess that had been around. Hiro made a puzzled face, but had confidence in his mind.

As Sena patrolled her eyes around the room, her eyes fell onto the cup noodles that had been sitting there with flies circling it. Taking one baby step at a time, she started walking her way towards the cup noodles through the battlefield, making sure she didn’t step on anything important that could cause problems. From a distance, she bent over and stretched her arms to reach out for the cup noodles and grabbed it. “Gotcha!” She exclaimed and turned towards Hiro. “The dustbin.” She ordered with a sharp and firm voice. Hiro nodded, indicating he acknowledged the work assigned, grabbed the dustbin and passed it to Sena.

As dusk fell, the room was now still. Quiet in its order — every book aligned, every cushion in place, as if untouched by time. Through the tall windows, dusk spilled onto Yuuta’s table, bringing a bright shade of orange, the light gently dimming as if the world itself were exhaling. Yuuta raised his head as he completed the panel, noticing the beautiful dusk through his windows. The sunset brought in nostalgia as he kept looking towards the sunset. Sena stepped into the room with a sigh. “Hey, the house is clean, and I hope this helps you with your—wait—” She froze mid-sentence, her eyes widened as she caught sight of Yuuta by the window. A soft orange glow bathed the room, and on his cheeks, a faint glimmer traced its way downward—tears, shimmering quietly in the light of the setting sun.

She called out to Yuuta one last time. Yuuta, this time startled by the sudden call, turned around wiping his face. Sena says, “Are you okay?” With a concerned look on her face. Yuuta turned to his table and looked towards Sena with a blank expression, “I don’t know. I just keep reminiscing about stuff that I just don’t know about.”

The main door clicked as Hiro entered in with some bags of groceries and essentials. Walking into the living room, he is met with a gloomy and awkward atmosphere.

Nervously, Hiro said, “I… hope everything’s okay.” “Yuuta was crying.” Exclaimed Sena. Hiro immediately changed his expression to a casual expression indicating that he knew about it. Nodding his head towards Sena indicating her to follow him to the kitchen, he walked towards the kitchen counter as he kept the bags of groceries onto the counter and said, “Yuuta has been like this since he recovered. He sometimes stares into a wall for a couple of minutes with teary eyes and goes back to his work. So, it’s fine. He’ll be back to reality soon.” Sena nodded as she acknowledged the explanation but still kept a puzzled face on, as the explanation doesn’t answer her question entirely.

”Well, whatever it is, I hope I will be able to change this and help him work better and harder.” Said Sena with a warm smile on her face. Hiro smiled back as he sorted the groceries out of the bags, “I believe you will.” 

—

Credits:

Author - Hiro

Revision & Proofread - @laurenxya (on Tapas)

Cover Art & Graphics - Hiro