In May, Tokyo felt like a giant steam bath, the afternoon sun turning the pavent into shimring waves.
During lunch break, groups of students huddled together in their classrooms, excitedly discussing the latest ani and manga.
"Did you guys read the newest issue of Aqua Shadow? The protagonist is insanely handso!"
"Yeah, but that is mostly because the artist, Ban Kazuto, has incredible drawing skills. The story is just okay."
"If we are talking about art style, Hayama Riku is still my favorite. He used to struggle a lot and his plotting was terrible. But his collaboration with Aizawa Yuki on Earth Core Chronicles was amazing."
Rei Kirishima listened to his classmates chatting about the newest issue of Weekly Monogatari, one of Japan’s bestselling manga magazines. But their excitent did not move him at all.
As one of the top ten weekly manga magazines in the country, Weekly Monogatari sold more than ten million copies every week. Most series published in it eventually received ani adaptations, novels, stage plays or even film versions.
However, to Rei, who rembered masterpieces from his previous life, these stories felt bland and uninspiring.
They were not bad enough to hate, yet not good enough to enjoy.
After consuming countless exceptional works, his standards were far higher than those of ordinary fans.
Rei slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed up to the rooftop of the first-year building.
He was not planning anything dramatic. It was simply too disruptive to draw manga inside the classroom. The constant sound of his pen and paper would be distracting for everyone.
He did not care if his classmates knew he drew manga.
But if one of them reported him to the horoom teacher, that would be a headache he did not want.
From his backpack, Rei took out the nearly finished draft of his manga.
Five Centiters per Second
Rei had died suddenly from overwork in his previous life. The good news was that he had transmigrated.
The bad news was that his mories were returning slowly, piece by piece.
At first, he thought transmigration would be easy.
He had been a hardcore ani fan before, so his idea was simple. Recreate classics like Dragon Ball, Naruto, Yu-Gi-Oh! Work hard for three years and live comfortably for the rest of his life.
Reality was not so kind.
He rembered that those famous titles existed but could not recall their full stories. Only scattered fragnts remained.
He rembered Dragon Ball as a tale about a monkey-like boy searching for glowing orbs.
He rembered One Piece as the journey of a boy who wanted to beco the Pirate King.
But the aning behind these goals was gone.
Why chase the orbs? Why beco the Pirate King?
He could not rember.
He had no way to reconstruct a complete story out of broken mories.
Still, his mind was slowly recovering.
Rei looked at the draft of Five Centiters per Second in his hands.
He would not have dreamt so vividly of watching that movie a month ago, sobbing uncontrollably as if he were reliving it, if his mories were not coming back.
In this world, Rei’s parents had died in a car accident a few months earlier.
Yet Rei wasn’t holess.
Rei’s parents had left him a small, old three-room apartnt on the outskirts of Tokyo, worth about one hundred million yen.
However, because the accident had been severe and their insurance coverage was minimal, his father had left behind more than two hundred million yen in debt.
For now, Rei was living in the apartnt, but he had no idea when the court would issue a ruling that might force him out.
His parents’ savings were frozen, and his daily expenses ca from the ten to twenty thousand yen the original Rei had saved over the years from pocket money and New Year’s gifts. He had always been frugal, but even this would not last long.
It was a brutal beginning.
If not for that, Rei would not have rushed to draw a manga and prepare it for submission as soon as he rembered the plot of Five Centiters per Second last month. Reality did not allow him the luxury of living like an ordinary high-school student.
Rei let out a quiet sigh. He picked up his pens and tools, arranged them neatly on the rooftop table and began working on the final pages of his manga.
When he found this rooftop last month, a set of abandoned desks and chairs happened to be here. It was as if soone had prepared a private studio for him.
It was peaceful here. No noise. No interruptions.
Five Centiters per Second, the debut film of Makoto Shinkai, one of the most beloved animation directors of his previous life, had originally been adapted from a three-part manga: Cherry Blossom, Astronauts and Five Centiters per Second.
Although it was not Shinkai’s most famous or profitable work, Rei had always felt a deep connection to it.
It was not Your Na that stayed etched in his heart.
It was this quiet, gentle, painful story that he rewatched every year.
In his previous life, Rei had been a struggling manga artist and illustrator. With limited tools now, drawing entirely by hand had been difficult at first. But after two months in this world, he had slowly adapted.
In this version of Japan, the internet was only beginning to rise, but print manga magazines were thriving more than ever. The animation industry was booming, and the status and inco of popular manga artists were unbelievably high.
In Rei’s past life, even the most successful weekly manga magazine in Japan, Weekly Jump, had peaked at around six million copies per issue during the height of Dragon Ball.
Here, the industry’s peak could easily surpass twenty million copies, and the trend was still climbing.
Television stations broadcast ani adaptations every afternoon.On the streets of Tokyo, retro electronic music played softly from cafés, mixing a sense of nostalgia with the city’s fast-paced energy.
The number of teenagers was also reaching a historical peak.
If nothing unexpected happened, the next decade would be the golden age of ani.
Despite these thoughts, Rei continued drawing swiftly. His hands did not slow for even a mont.
After regaining the mories of Five Centiters per Second, Rei noticed sothing strange.
His mind felt far sharper than it had in his past life. Perhaps it was the fusion of two souls. His concentration was extraordinary.
He could picture scenes vividly just by closing his eyes. He could rotate the angles, shift the lighting, even adjust the mood of the shot as if editing a ntal movie.
It was as if his brain had a processor and graphics card far more powerful than the average person.
Once he recalled the plot, everything ca together effortlessly.Storyboards, panel composition, character expressions, background layout, line dialogue.
All of it assembled naturally in his mind before he even touched the page.
Because of this, he barely needed to draft storyboards. His drawing speed was extrely fast and his error rate was surprisingly low.
The only reason it still took him a full month to complete the one-hundred-page manga adaptation of Five Centiters per Second was because he had spent most of his ti adjusting to the feel of hand-drawn work in this new world.
Rei’s lunch break passed in a flash as he continued drawing. Even though the rooftop had a bit of shade under the overhanging eaves, sweat still gathered at the back of his neck.
A small breeze drifted across the rooftop, carrying a cool touch that eased the heat down his spine.
"Here. Wipe your sweat. It would be a sha if a drop fell on your original pages."
"Ah, thank you." Rei reached out absentmindedly, took the tissue, and wiped his neck and nose.
Then he froze.
"Wait... who are you?"
He was certain he had been alone on the rooftop. So who had just handed him a tissue?
Rei turned his head.
A girl stood beside him, strands of her hair fluttering gently in the breeze. She had delicate features, calm eyes that reflected the sunlight and a faint smile on her lips. Her gaze lingered on Rei and the manga pages spread in front of him.
"You are... Miyu Yukishiro from Class 1?" Rei asked.
"You actually know ? Rei Kirishima?" Miyu replied, surprised.
"Of course I know you. You’re pretty well-known in our year. But wait... how do you know my na?"
"Oh, I saw you drawing up here last month," Miyu said lightly. "I got curious and looked into it afterward."
She stretched her arms a little, closed her eyes and let the rooftop breeze brush against her face before turning her attention back to his manuscript.
The title on the first page read:
Five Centiters per Second
"I don’t rember seeing you up here last month..." Rei murmured.
"You were completely absorbed in your drawing. I stood behind you for half an hour and you never noticed," Miyu laughed softly.
"And two weeks ago. And last week. And three days ago. And today. I watched you five tis in total, and not once did you notice ."
Miyu tilted her head playfully.
"Your concentration is incredible. If I hadn’t seen your sweat about to fall onto the page, I probably wouldn’t have said anything today."
Rei stiffened slightly. A hint of unease flickered through him.
Thankfully, he hadn’t muttered anything strange during his drawing sessions that would expose him as soone from another world.
"Is this... stalking?"
"Stalking?" Miyu repeated with a soft smile, her expression gentle.
"Rei, that sounds harsh. Why do you think a set of desks and chairs ended up on this rooftop? Did they fall from the sky?"
She opened her school bag and pulled out a stack of blank manga paper and several professional-grade pens.
"This school has more than four thousand students. Do you really think you are the only one who wants to draw manga? And the only one who thinks the rooftop is the perfect place to do it during lunch break? Before you ca here last month, I was the one sitting in these chairs drawing."
She let out a small sigh, though her tone remained friendly.
"I am not angry. I just wanted to tell you the truth."
Rei blinked, stunned at first. After thinking for a mont, his expression turned slightly awkward.
"Sorry. You... you could have told earlier."
"Well," Miyu said with a tiny smile, "when I saw soone else drawing manga at school, and doing it so seriously, I didn’t want to bother them. I know how much I hate being interrupted while drawing. Besides, I thought maybe you were just using the rooftop once or twice."
Rei finally understood.
Last month, he had unknowingly taken over soone else’s drawing spot. Miyu probably thought he would lose interest and not co back.
But he kept coming.
A week later, he was still there. Two weeks later, still there.
Even today, still there.
Miyu stepped forward and held out her hand.
"Anyway, let’s officially introduce ourselves. I’m Miyu Yukishiro. I am a professional manga artist... and also a part-ti high school student."
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