Well, that got intense fast. Did I just make some grand declaration?
I fiddled awkwardly with my glass, but Rika, grinning like a Cheshire cat, broke the silence. "Alright, Kim-kun! Let's call each other by our first names!"
Her sudden mood swings were too much for me. "Just like that?"
"Yup! Nicknames are the fastest way to get close! Try it!" she urged.
I couldn't wrap my head around her social-butterfly logic, but I gave in. "Fine… Rika."
She nodded, beaming. "Perfect! Keep calling me that. And I'll call you… Ryu-chan!"
"Ryu-chan?" My face froze. The nickname made my toes curl in embarrassment.
"It's from Ryusei," she explained casually. "First syllable, Ryu-chan!"
My hands shook with secondhand shame. "Can't you just call me Yuseong like a normal person?"
"But all my friends get nicknames!" she insisted.
"Every single one?"
"Every. Single. One!"
I glared at her stubbornness but sighed, defeated. "Fine. Do whatever."
"Hehe, planned to anyway," she said, setting her empty barley tea glass on my desk and spinning in the chair, legs swinging as she eyed my bookshelf. "So, Ryu-chan, what's your favorite shonen manga?"
I grabbed her glass, stacking it on the tray. "Golden Samurai, top shelf."
"No way! I love that one!" she squealed, clapping her hands.
Guess we found common ground.
"I reread it from start to finish whenever I'm in the mood," I said, pulling the first volume from the shelf to show her.
"Wow! First edition? This came out 15 years ago—it's super rare!" Rika bounced excitedly, like she'd unearthed a treasure.
Golden Samurai, Masashi Kishimoto's second long-running manga, follows William, an Irish sailor who washes up in Japan. It kicks off when a Black slave, who killed William's friend in a ship mutiny, flees to the Far East.
William tracks him to Japan for revenge, meeting Tokugawa Ieyasu and becoming a samurai named Miura Anjin. Known as the "Golden Samurai" for his blonde hair, he rises in the ranks while hunting his friend's killer.
He learns the fugitive is Yasuke, the "Black Samurai" serving Oda Nobunaga. William challenges him to a duel.
William wins but discovers his friend mistreated the slave. Instead of killing Yasuke, he cuts his topknot, sparing him, and returns to Ireland one-armed, leaving his past behind.
At 28 volumes, it's a tight story. I love its Eastern-art style and the dry, "revenge is empty" ending, layered with subtle foreshadowing and psychological depth.
Rika listened to my 10-minute rant, trembling with excitement, blushing like she'd been praised. "I love this manga too, but I've never met someone as obsessed as you, Ryu-chan!"
"It's not that deep," I said. "I just buy the manga, not merch."
"No, no, my papa would love your review!" she said.
Wait, what?
I froze, thinking I misheard. Before I could ask, she grinned. "Masashi Kishimoto is my dad's pen name."
Manga artist. Masashi Kishimoto. Real name: Sojiro Kishimoto.
Kishimoto's a common surname, so I didn't connect the dots. Rika's his daughter.
In hindsight, the clues were obvious. She lives in ritzy Seijo, her dad's a successful manga artist, and she's blonde.
Golden Samurai was published right after Masashi Kishimoto married his British wife, with wiki speculation about her influence on the story.
And he's from Shizuoka, like Rika.
A classmate with a famous parent? Classic rom-com trope. How did I miss it? I'm a sea cucumber-level idiot.
I swallowed hard. "Could… could you get me his autograph?"
She nodded, all sunshine. "Easy peasy! Come to my house sometime, and I'll introduce you!"
My heart nearly gave out. Meeting the Masashi Kishimoto? This is peak otaku glory.
"Tell me when he's free," I stammered.
"Will do!" she chirped. "When Papa's home, I'll let you know."
In that moment, I was thrilled to be her friend. Screw the original Scramble Love plot—meeting Kishimoto-sensei trumps everything.
"It's getting late," Rika said. "Mama's probably home soon, so I gotta go!"
"Uh, yeah, sure," I mumbled.
I walked her to the station. "See you tomorrow, Ryu-chan!"
Just… maybe not that nickname in public, please.
The next day, I dragged myself to school and froze. A new desk sat next to mine, with Rika perched on it.
"Morning, Ryu-chan!" she chirped.
I blinked, dumbfounded. "Rika, why are you here?"
She tapped her desk, grinning. "I asked the teacher to move me this morning. There's tons of space around you anyway."
"True, but…"
Classmates who arrived early started whispering.
"Is the transfer student being blackmailed to sit there?"
"Did Kim threaten her yesterday?"
"Hey, be my girl!"
"Kyaaa!"
I rubbed my throbbing temples, ignoring the gossip, and pulled out my textbook and notebook for first period: English.
I aced the TOEIC with 900 points in my past life, so English is a breeze, but Japan's grammar-heavy English classes are notoriously brutal.
Rika, staring at her phone, glanced at my notebook and perked up. "Ryu-chan, lemme see your English homework."
"Sure," I said, handing it over.
Feels less like a friend and more like a high-maintenance little sister.
By the second week of the term, students settle into the school rhythm, shaking off spring break laziness.
This is also when clubs go all-out recruiting new members.
"Soccer club! The hottest club for girls!"
"Basketball club! Join us and get a cute manager to wipe your sweat!"
"Light music club! Burn your youth with us!"
"Freshmen, join the board game club! We've got every game, East and West! Just bring yourself!"
As student council secretary, I stood on the third floor with the president and vice president, watching the chaos below.
"Here we go again," I said. "Club leaders fighting tooth and nail for newbies."
"OHOHOHO!" Saionji cackled, fanning herself. "If they joined the student council, they wouldn't need to grovel like that!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Do we have to watch this like supervillains?"
Saionji waved her black fan, scolding me. "Those at the top must observe the commoners! Don't you know that, Kim Yuseong, top of our grade?"
"Right! Right!" the vice president chimed in.
I stared blankly at their comedy duo act, hands in my pockets. "So, President, why'd you drag bakt to the student council room?"
The vice president pointed at me. "Kim Yuseong, you lack council pride! You never show up, and it's making our lady sad!"
"Keep talking," I said dryly.
"You arrogant punk! Today, I, Akagi Shinjiro, the lady's loyal right hand, will take you down!" he declared, glasses glinting.
Saionji blushed, waving her hands. "W-when did I say I was sad?!"
I raised a hand, cutting through the chaos. "If there's no real business, can I go back to class?"
"NO!" they shouted in unison.
This is gonna be a long day.