Yuta Kawata asked about Kai's identity.
Taking the change back from the driver, Kai turned around and asked in surprise.
"How did you know, Yuta?"
"I knew it," Yuta sighed with genuine emotion. "Kai, you've always been amazing."
Rika realized the two of them had started chatting, so she suppressed her excitement over learning that her brother was Ryuji Kanzaki, walked to the back of the car, opened the trunk, and tried to heave the suitcase out with a grunt.
Her toes trembled and curled with the effort, but the suitcase wouldn't budge.
"Let me," the driver said with a smile.
He lifted the suitcase out easily, set it down on the curb, gave them a nod, then stepped on the gas and slowly disappeared down the street.
"Th... thank you," Rika whispered her thanks to a cloud of exhaust fumes.
...
"Back in high school, everyone mocked you for saying you wanted to be a manga artist. But you didn't care at all. You spent every spare minute drawing manga. You didn't play games with friends, you let your grades slide, and even now you still haven't lost heart. You've always been full of fire."
Inside Kai's home, Yuta looked at the drafting table in the living room and the manuscripts scattered across the floor. "Now you've finally become a manga artist with published work. Congratulations, Kai."
Kai thought back to the original Kai, a young man who had been crushed by reality, and compared that image to the one Yuta was describing. The contrast felt almost absurd.
But it made sense. When an idealist slams headfirst into the real world and comes out battered and broken, despair is the natural result.
It's hard for anyone who hasn't lived through the hard work, the sadness, the tears, and the despair to become a creator who can actually make a living through manga.
"Thanks, Yuta," Kai replied. "What about you? Anything interesting happen back home?"
Yuta slowly shook his head. "My life's been the same as always. Nothing's changed."
Kai patted his shoulder. "A lot of people dream about escaping the big city and moving somewhere they can hear roosters in the morning and dogs barking at night. Fresh air, peace of mind, getting close to nature."
"That's only because they've already had their fill of the hustle and bustle," Yuta said. "Actually... I came here this time because I want to stay in Tokyo too."
People their age either settled in Aomori or came to Tokyo. Yuta, who had always figured he'd spend his whole life in the countryside, was now feeling the pull of the city.
Especially after seeing Kai's success. That desire had become impossible to hold back.
"Of course you can," Kai nodded. This was actually great news for him.
Manga couldn't be drawn well alone, unless you happened to be Akira Toriyama.
Most manga artists needed a team. Two or three well-coordinated assistants at minimum.
Yuta coming to Tokyo saved Kai the trouble of hunting for an assistant from scratch.
In the original owner's memories, Yuta was an incredibly reliable friend. He never dropped the ball on anything you asked him to do.
But Death Note hadn't officially started serialization yet, so it was too early to bring him on.
"For now, you can stay at my place. I'll take you two around over the next couple of days so you can get a feel for Tokyo."
Yuta nodded. There was no need for formalities between the two of them.
And that went double for Rika.
What kind of sister stands on ceremony with her own brother?
She crouched down, popped open the suitcase, and painstakingly began pulling out the apples that filled most of the space.
Kai stared. "How many did you bring?"
"About five kilos," Rika said, tilting her chin up proudly.
"Five kilos..." Kai groaned. "How am I supposed to finish all this... Oh, wait."
He remembered that he'd been so buried in manga work that he'd completely forgotten to visit his neighbors.
He could use some of the apples as a gift. Local specialties weren't expensive, but they showed sincerity, which was perfect.
Though, come to think of it, he hadn't seen that pretty neighbor of his in days. He wondered what she'd been up to.
It clicked a moment later. Golden Week. She'd probably gone traveling.
Even the hardworking weekly manga artists were on break right now, so surely nobody else would be stuck working. Right? Surely not.
...
Heishi was working in the Weekly Shonen Jump editorial department.
He was pulling overtime during Golden Week.
But he'd volunteered for it.
He wanted to know the readers' feedback on Death Note as soon as possible.
The one-shots by new manga artists in Akamaru Jump were mostly published to test whether a work had commercial value and whether it deserved a serialization slot.
When readers genuinely loved a manga, they would call the Weekly Shonen Jump editorial department directly to demand that the one-shot be turned into a full series.
These callers were the potential hardcore fans of the manga.
Their numbers could roughly gauge how much potential a series had.
Heishi had been waiting by the phones. And this was definitely not an excuse to collect a massive overtime paycheck.
He didn't have to wait long before the first call came in.
Sure enough, it was a Death Note reader.
"This manga is incredible. Please make sure it gets serialized! But Kanzaki's drawing is terrible. Please whip him into shape."
Heishi was thrilled inside, but he kept his voice steady. "That depends on the editorial department's decision. There's nothing I can do about that. But as for whipping Kanzaki into shape, that's no problem at all."
Before he could even hang up, another line started ringing.
"What a stunning manga."
"It's more interesting than half the stuff currently running in Jump! Don't let this one slip through the cracks."
The phones rang one after another from early morning, and they didn't let up for hours.
Readers loved Death Note so much that the editor was starting to run out of hands.
"Looks like Death Note is definitely getting serialized," Heishi said, setting the receiver aside and stealing a moment of peace. He leaned back in his chair, propped his feet up on the desk, and shook his head with a grin. "There's really no stopping it."
Everything was heading in the right direction.
...
Kai was also enjoying the feel of having his sister and his best friend around.
They wanted to know about his daily life, so after showing them around the house, he racked his brain trying to think of where else to take them.
He pondered for a moment and settled on the bookstore.
When the manager saw Kai walk in again, the man's eyes practically caught fire.
Kai didn't care in the slightest. He leaned toward the other two and whispered, "I read here all the time."
Rika nodded quietly.
Her gaze drifted to a poster on the wall.
"I Am a Murderer? What is this? It's so creepy."
"It's a book written by a murderer."
A high school student appeared out of nowhere and explained in a complicated tone.
Rika flinched.
"A murderer can write books?"
"That's exactly the problem. He doesn't reflect on what he's done at all. Instead, he treats his own crimes like a joke, turning the whole thing into entertainment." The high school student's voice was tight with frustration. "Why doesn't he just die? He's the one who deserves it most."
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