Chapter 8: Sabatora and IORI

“I’m home!”

While I was drawing an illustration in the living room, a familiar greeting echoed from the entrance, making me jolt.

(What time is it?)

I glance at the clock, and it’s just past 7 p.m.

I got home from school around 5 p.m.

Guess I was so focused that I kept my pen moving for two hours straight.

“Oh!”

I suddenly realized something.

Right now, I’m sitting cross-legged on the sofa, drawing on my tablet.

My outfit? The usual: a bra top, short shorts, and a hoodie.

Maybe because I was so engrossed in drawing, the hoodie and the strap of my bra top have slipped off my right shoulder…!

“Oh, you’re drawing, huh?”

A brown-haired guy in a school uniform peeks into the living room, and I hurriedly fix my clothes at the same time.

“Welcome back.”

It’s fine.

He probably didn’t see anything.

I manage to return the greeting naturally, reassuring myself.

(I thought the same thing when I fell asleep on Machikawa-kun’s bed, but this loungewear has the defensive strength of tissue paper.)

Still, I don’t want him to think my clothes are lame…

I ordered this outfit online from a site that listed “Super Cute Roomwear for Max Girly Vibes ♡,” so he probably doesn’t think it’s weird.

He’s got his usual smile and hasn’t said anything about it, after all.

“What’s for dinner tonight?”

“I was thinking arrabbiata.”

“For real?! Like the pasta Rico was eating in ROSSO yesterday, right?!”

“Yeah, the one she was yelling ‘It’s too spicy!’ about.”

Didn’t Suzuhara-san say she wanted to try it too? He smiles at me.

ROSSO is the late-night anime we watched together on this sofa last night.

It’s a yuri-themed gun-action series set in Italy.

In last night’s episode, Rico, the usually cool heroine, was adorably freaking out while eating spicy pasta.

That’s why I ended up saying, “I want to try it too.”

“Thank you!”

“No problem. I wanted to eat it too, y’know.”

“How about I repay you with a ROSSO illustration?”

“Whoa, really?! I’m super excited! Alright, I’ll get cooking then!”

Machikawa-kun spins his shoulders, looking upbeat.

Watching my best friend, I tap away on my tablet with the stylus.

I save the comic draft I was working on and start a new illustration.

(If I’m drawing something, it’s gotta be Rico, right?)

The scene where she’s cutely freaking out over the arrabbiata would be perfect.

Machikawa-kun loved that scene too, so he’s sure to be thrilled.

From the kitchen comes a sound that’s become a familiar part of my life.

The melody of Machikawa-kun cooking.

Listening to that soothing rhythm, I let my stylus glide across the tablet’s screen.

“No way, a red shell there?!”

After savoring the Italian-born tomato pasta to my heart’s content…

Machikawa-kun and I are sitting on the living room sofa, playing a racing game.

Playing games together after dinner…

It’s become one of the routines firmly woven into our daily life.

“That makes today’s score five wins, five losses.”

“That last one at the finish line… were you aiming for that?”

“Yup. I held onto the item, stayed in second place—”

“And waited until the leader was about to cross the finish line before hitting them to take the lead, huh?”

“As expected of my best friend. You catch on quick.”

“I was thinking the same strategy. If you reclaim first place and cross the finish line right away, they can’t turn the tables on you.”

“We’re totally in sync. I had a feeling you were thinking that, so I kept holding second place too.”

“Ugh, this telepathy is so strong it’s almost a problem.”

But that was a great race! Machikawa-kun grins happily.

(I used to think real-life relationships were such a hassle.)

But in just three weeks, I’ve completely gotten used to living with Machikawa-kun.

He’s even been teaching me how to cook and clean.

And the changes aren’t just at home.

(Thanks to him, I’ve gotten close with Kotori-chan too.)

We chat in class or eat lunch together sometimes.

Our classmates, unaware that Machikawa-kun brought us together, were like, “Whoa!” “As expected of Kotori!” “She tamed the Solo Gyaru!”

I’ve had chances to talk with Kotori-chan’s friends too, but…

(I was too nervous to say much.)

Sadly, I don’t have the social skills to instantly make a ton of friends.

Kotori-chan cheered me up, saying, “It’s all good! Take it at your own pace, Ayana-chan!” but…

(I want to try harder and get results.)

If I do, Machikawa-kun will be happy too.

I want to give him something as a thank-you, beyond just illustrations… maybe a gift.

(What kind of gift would be good?)

Doing something like my “Top 3 Things I Want to Do” is out of the question, but maybe just telling him “I love you” in real life?

As a sign of friendship, of course.

When he said “I love you” to me before, it was super embarrassing but made me even happier—

(No, no, I’m getting carried away.)

He’s a popular guy who gets tons of affection from other students.

He probably wouldn’t care if someone like me said “I love you.”

Besides, while the confident online Sabatora might pull it off…

The real-life Suzuhara Ayana doesn’t have the courage to say something that bold.

“Nnh…”

Suddenly, soft breathing comes from beside me.

Machikawa-kun, still sitting on the sofa, is nodding off, his head bobbing gently.

This is the first time I’ve seen the perfect honor student dozing off.

It’s kind of cute.

My heart feels warm watching the defenseless face of my roommate.

No other classmate gets to see Machikawa-kun like this—

“!”

Suddenly, his head tilts and rests on my shoulder.

His face is just inches away.

And on the black TV screen, turned off so as not to wake him, our closeness is reflected like a mirror…!

(But waking him up feels cruel.)

He’s probably this deeply asleep because he’s exhausted.

I know he’s been reading stacks of academic books lately.

And staying up late in the next room.

(It’s all to help me, isn’t it?)

He’s working so hard to support me.

I feel a renewed gratitude for his kindness.

“Ugh…”

The face of my usually smiling roommate twists slightly, as if in pain.

“…It’s okay…”

A faint mumble slips from his lips, a sleepy murmur.

“I’ll… make sure I can write novels too…”

Even so, I can tell what kind of dream my best friend is having.

(…Oh.)

I feel ashamed for calling him a “perfect honor student.”

I’m his best friend, so I should’ve known.

IORI’s slump.

He never shows how much he’s struggling at school or home, but he’s suffering enough to have nightmares.

(Seeing his cool, composed self in real life makes it easy to misunderstand, like our classmates do, but he’s not some flawless superhuman.)

He’s just an incredible hard worker.

Like a swan that looks graceful on the surface but is frantically paddling beneath.

With that thought—I end up resting my right hand over his left.

(…Wait, wait.)

What am I doing all of a sudden?

The touch makes me feel his warmth even more.

The TV screen shows us leaning together on the sofa like lovers, and it’s insanely embarrassing.

But—

“It’s okay, IORI. I’ve got your back.”

Wanting to comfort him, to chase away his nightmares, I gently warm his hand.

“Sabatora-san is like a hero to me.”

Machikawa-kun said that to me before, but to me, he’s the hero.

I am who I am now because of IORI.

“Listen, Ayana. All you need to do is get good at drawing. You’ve got no other talents.”

That’s what I, Suzuhara Ayana, have been told since I was little.

Because of family circumstances, I’ve been drawing since I was old enough to understand.

Not comics or illustrations like now, but mostly paintings.

Landscapes, still life, portraits, botanical art… every genre imaginable.

In elementary school, I won the Minister of Education’s Award at a junior art contest.

In middle school, I got a special award at a painting competition in Paris.

Apparently, my name is somewhat well-known overseas.

“The Bloodline of Genius.”

An art critic gave me that exaggerated nickname and praised me to the skies.

I heard some of my paintings are displayed in major museums abroad.

But—

“Don’t get satisfied with this! You can’t beat her like this! You’re nothing but mine! If all you can do is draw, at least meet my expectations!”

That person never praised me, not even once.

I was forced to draw obsessively every day.

By the time I was in eighth grade, I’d grown to absolutely hate painting.

That’s when it happened.

“What’s this?”

While escaping reality by browsing the internet on my phone, I stumbled across a news article.

“An amateur with zero artistic talent drew a manga, and it’s surprisingly good lol”

Back then, I barely read manga since I was always painting.

So it was strange to me.

“Manga is just drawings, right?”

If someone with no artistic talent drew a manga, it should be boring, right? But the moment I read the article, I was speechless.

The manga uploaded with the article.

It was undeniably amateurish.

The composition and perspective were awful. The characters and backgrounds looked like a kid’s doodles.

And yet…!

“—It’s amazing.”

The art was zero, but the creator’s heart was unmistakably poured into it.

A meticulously crafted storyline.

Like a master craftsman assembling countless gears into a luxury watch.

That manga was a precision machine built to move people.

It pulled readers into its world, never letting them get bored, thrilling them, and leaving them with an indescribable sense of satisfaction and happiness when they finished.

Before I knew it, I’d read all 30 pages in one go.

All you need to do is get good at drawing.

For me, who’d been obsessively told that since childhood, discovering a work that could stir emotions so deeply despite poor art was nothing short of a revelation.

The creator’s pen name was IORI.

They’d only published that one work, nothing else, but—

(IORI changed everything for me.)

Using “drawing as a break from painting” as an excuse to my family, I read all sorts of manga and fell in love with their charm.

At the same time, I started posting my own illustrations and comics online.

Thanks to the drawing skills I’d honed since childhood, my pen name “Sabatora” spread across the internet in no time, even though the genre was different…

“It’s still not enough.”

I wanted to create works that moved people’s hearts like IORI’s.

As I dove into games, anime, and light novels to get there, I somehow became a full-fledged otaku.

But I still felt like I could never match IORI’s manga.

(Even so, I was happy.)

Getting praise and recognition online for my comics and illustrations…

Before I knew it, drawing, which I’d come to hate so much, had become something I loved.

“What?!”

And then one day, the moment of reunion came out of nowhere.

A villainess novel was uploaded to a novel submission site.

The author’s name was IORI.

With trembling fingers, filled with nervous excitement, I tapped my phone to read the novel and instantly knew.

It was that manga’s author.

And there was something even more thrilling.

“No way?!”

IORI followed me on Twitter.

Mustering all my courage, I sent a DM: “I’m a huge fan of IORI-san’s work! Just reading it shakes me to my core!”

“Thank you so much! I’m a huge fan of Sabatora-san’s art too! Just looking at it moves me so much!”

The moment I read that reply…

I was so happy that tears spilled out.

The creator I admired, who changed me, said they loved my art.

It felt like all the effort and time I’d put into drawing had been rewarded.

I couldn’t tell them I’d been a fan since their old pen name days because of certain circumstances.

(That manga got a lot of harsh comments mocking its poor art without even reading the content, and I don’t want to remind Machikawa-kun of that.)

Still, we became friends.

“Hey, IORI? Wanna make a manga together?”

Gathering all my courage, I suggested collaborating on a project.

“It’s true that I wrote my story aiming for a trendy genre.”

“I know! But that doesn’t change how insanely interesting your stories are!”

When IORI was down after receiving nasty slander…

[To be continued in the next response due to character limit]

I did my best to convey my true feelings and cheered with all my might.

Because I wanted to help my best friend, even just a little.

“I absolutely love IORI’s novels! When things got tough in real life, reading your work saved me!”

It’s not a lie, not at all.

Thanks to the stories you wrote, I was able to discover a new version of myself.

“To me, Sabatora-san is like a hero.”

“—We really do get along, don’t we?”

Just like how you called Sabatora a hero,

to Suzuhara Ayana, you are undoubtedly—.

I woke up to the sound of his soft breathing coming from beside me.

(…No way. Did I fall asleep?)

Glancing at the clock on the wall, I realized an entire hour had passed.

My face flushed hot all the way up to my forehead.

Because my hand was still resting on top of Machikawa-kun’s.

I’d once told him, “I can’t even sleep a wink in someone else’s house unless I feel really safe.”

And yet, I fell asleep for a whole hour while holding his hand…!

Completely oblivious to my feelings, Machikawa-kun was sleeping soundly, looking utterly content.

(…Ugh. Idiot.)

It feels kind of unfair.

Here I am, my heart pounding like crazy, and he could at least feel a little flustered too.

“Hehe.”

But, I’m glad.

I’m not sure if holding his hand helped, but it seems like I managed to save him from his nightmare.

“Still, though…”

To think that someone as lonely as me would end up touching a boy like this.

(IORI hasn’t just changed me in the online world but in the real world too.)

I’ve even checked off items one and two on my list of things I want to do.

Sure, number three is probably impossible, but even so, my heart feels impossibly warm.

Is this what it’s like to live with a close-knit family?

—I want to stay over at this house forever.

I even find myself thinking such impossible thoughts.

I’m so glad Machikawa-kun is my best friend.

Maybe now I could confess that I’ve been a fan since the IORI days and thank him for inspiring me to start drawing manga…

(—No. I’m getting too carried away.)

That’s the one thing I absolutely can’t do.

Telling him I became a creator because I was moved by his work feels too heavy, like it’d scare him off… Even between best friends, there are things you can’t confess.

Yeah, if he ever found out my secret, he’d definitely look down on me—

“!”

The ringtone from my phone, sitting on the desk, broke the silence.

Machikawa-kun’s eyelids fluttered open faintly.

Feeling guilty for waking him and reluctant to let go of his warmth, I reached for my phone.

The screen displayed the words “Real Estate Agent.”

“…Hello?”

It’s late at night. Maybe it’s some kind of urgent call? I answered nervously.

I’m still not great at talking to people other than Machikawa-kun or Kotori-chan.

—“You’re nothing but my property.”

—“You can’t do anything except draw.”

Every time I try to push myself, that person’s words tighten around my heart like a curse, but it’s okay.

Today is October 5th.

With about two weeks left until the end of our roommate arrangement, spending time with Machikawa-kun should help improve my shyness, even if just a little.

“Huh—”

But.

The moment I heard the voice on the other end of the call, I knew my hopes had crumbled to pieces.