Black mangaka 007:Sawamura Eriri Spencer
As expected of Shizuku-sensei's iron fist—it really lives up to its reputation!
Leaving the teacher's office, Nakahara Hiroshi rubbed his head with a grin, though a faint smile lingered on his face.
"Finally, I escaped!"
But as this thought crossed his mind, his smile froze.
Wrong!
"Why am I so happy about this?! That guy knows everything!"
Once the Shueisha Tezuka Prize list is announced, won't it be easy to just search and find out everything?
Wait.
The Shueisha Tezuka Prize winners' list is announced publicly...
"It's spiraling out of control. Spiraling out of control."
What made me think that the first chapter of Puella Magi Madoka Magica could win the Tezuka Prize?!
"So, if it doesn't place, Jing-sensei won't find out about it!"
Damn it!
On one hand, there's the chance to win an award and be published in a weekly magazine—but the cost is social destruction in front of Jing-sensei.
On the other hand, if I don't win, there's no social destruction, but also no prize money.
"Confusing."
Hiroshi sighed.
"Whatever, I'll wait until the results come out."
After all, the moment he hit send on the email, the balance of fate was no longer in his hands.
Walking aimlessly down the empty corridor, Hiroshi soon arrived at the door of Class 2-C.
Knocking on the door, he pushed it open.
"Sensei."
"Nakahara, you're back. Please return to your seat."
The little old man standing at the podium, with gray hair and round-framed glasses, smiled kindly. Then his expression shifted. The chalk in his hand flew like a bullet, striking its mark: the head of the third person from left to right in the third row from the bottom.
"No whispering in class."
Tsk.
The privileges of being an honor student.
Hiroshi cast a sympathetic glance at the boy who had been hit. Then he walked to the seat by the back-row window, set his bag down, and sat.
Kato Megumi, seated next to him, gave him a curious glance.
"You okay?"
Hiroshi smiled and shook his head.
Satisfied with the response, Megumi returned her gaze to the front, sitting upright like the perfect student.
The life of a student was mundane, uneventful.
Time passed.
Before he knew it, the last class of the afternoon had ended.
As the bell rang, the teacher at the podium paused.
"Class dismissed."
The teacher left the room quickly after packing up.
With no authority figure to restrain them, the classroom noise erupted like a lively marketplace.
Groups of classmates formed to chat about where to hang out—shopping, studying at nearby family restaurants, or singing karaoke at a newly opened KTV.
"What a youthful scene."
Watching the buzz of activity, Hiroshi felt a moment of detachment.
"So..."
"See you tomorrow, Nakahara."
After packing her things, Megumi tucked her chair under the desk, clutching her bag in both hands. She nodded politely and walked off with light steps.
Her brief words snapped Hiroshi out of his thoughts.
"Oh."
Hiroshi smiled self-deprecatingly. "I'm supposed to be the adult here, but my mindset isn't even as mature as a girl's."
Humans are social creatures; it's natural to feel lonely without friends.
But on reflection, can someone with whom you have no common language, who only pretends to agree with you, really be considered a friend?
For Hiroshi, the answer was no.
So...
"It's pretty pathetic to feel bad about something like this."
Shaking his head, he plastered on a smile.
"See you tomorrow."
He muttered the farewell to himself, collected his belongings, and left the classroom.
Just as he stepped out, a flash of gold darted past. A petite figure grabbed Hiroshi's sleeve and tugged him forward without a word.
Hiroshi froze for a moment, then smiled knowingly. Without resisting, he let himself be dragged along.
The girl led him through twists and turns, finally arriving at an empty multi-purpose room.
"Huff, huff."
The girl was clearly not used to physical exertion.
In just a short while, she was out of breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly with each pant.
Hiroshi found it amusing and lightly patted her back.
"Quite a few people saw us just now. By tomorrow, there might be rumors like, 'The untold story of Eriri and Nakahara, two of the Three Beauties of Toyonosaki Academy.'"
"Huh?! Who cares about that kind of thing!"
Eriri glared at him, her dissatisfaction evident.
She wore a white long-sleeved shirt under a blue sweater, which hugged her slender figure. The dark short skirt she wore was clearly custom-tailored—a few centimeters shorter than the standard uniform.
It was a subtle difference that Hiroshi might not have noticed elsewhere. But here, in this scene that felt straight out of a shoujo manga, the details were hard to miss.
Compared to Kasumigaoka Shiyu, another school beauty whose black stockings and full thighs exuded a mature allure, Eriri's charm lay in her playful balance of mystery and innocence. Her stockings left just the right amount of skin exposed—a tantalizing intersection of black and white.
For those who appreciated aesthetics, her legs were a rare treasure.
All Hiroshi could do was inwardly marvel at how sharp the public's taste was.
"So Eriri doesn't care about rumors, huh? Then, shall we go somewhere together?"
Go somewhere... with this guy?
Eriri's pale complexion turned bright red in an instant. Her eyes filled with panic.
"Wh-who would go to a place like that with you?!"
Huh?
Why's she reacting so strongly?
Hiroshi blinked, his memory racing. Then it hit him.
Ah. That incident.
"Good grief. I didn't expect you, with your innocent face and good-girl act, to secretly take little girls to see Kashiwagi Eri's masterpieces."
It was me? Well, that's fine.
It happened during the second semester of middle school. By coincidence, they'd bumped into each other on the street.
After some conversation, he'd taken her to his "secret base" and proudly shown her his collection.
As it turned out, the "treasures" he'd shown her were her works under her pen name.
Looking back now, he could only cringe at his past self.
Still, it wasn't like he'd known at the time.
Regardless, their relationship was unique.
Nakahara Hiroshi's parents had some fame in their industry.
Years ago, before they moved to Kanagawa, they'd attended a party hosted by Eriri's father.
It was at that party that Hiroshi and Eriri first met and became close friends.
Unfortunately, the move to Kanagawa caused them to lose contact.
It wasn't until Hiroshi returned to Tokyo for middle school that they reconnected, coincidentally ending up in the same class.
But things were no longer the same.
Their once-simple friendship had become... complicated.
**
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