Chapter 176 - 174(2 in 1)

Before entering the venue, a staff member had handed Haruki the mic and reminded him about the introduction segment. Backstage, Haruka gave him a quick once-over and straightened his collar. "Try to look like someone who's not being dragged to his own birthday," she said. "That's a big ask," he muttered. "Then fake it. You're good at that." She gave him a small nod of encouragement before stepping aside. Out front, the noise from the crowd was louder than expected. When the host called his name, Haruki stepped into the light, half-blinded, mic in hand. "Um... hello, everyone. I'm Mizushiro, the creator of Natsume's Book of Friends. My real name is Haruki Yuuki, and I'm... really happy to be here today." His voice wavered slightly as he spoke into the mic. He hadn't scripted anything in advance and wasn't used to public speaking, so the greeting came out a little rough. But he barely got through the opening before the crowd erupted into cheers. Despite what he thought of the outfit and makeover Haruka had forced on him, it clearly made a difference. To fans, he now looked like a younger version of a popular actor definitely not what people usually imagined a manga artist to look like. Most fans were used to either middle-aged creators or, at the other extreme, those who stayed anonymous. Haruki's clean, well-groomed appearance was a pleasant surprise. He stood awkwardly, listening to the wave of excitement and thinking, If I'd known it'd be like this, I wouldn't have come. The host stepped in to keep things moving. "Well, I think it's safe to say everyone's excited! But before we get to the signing, I'm sure many of you have questions for Mizushiro-sensei, right?" The host a cheerful woman in her late twenties stood beside Haruki and smiled at the crowd. This was only the second time Haruki had faced this kind of attention. The first was at the Aurora Manga Awards, where the audience had been a mix of professionals and fans. This time, it was all supporters of his work. Back then, he hadn't really felt the weight of his popularity. But standing here, in front of this full crowd, it finally hit him—Natsume had truly made an impact. Fans responded instantly. "Of course!" "We've got so many questions!" "Wait, there's a Q&A? Awesome!" Haruki had already been briefed by Haruka, so he knew what to expect. "Since this is Mizushiro-sensei's first public signing event, we're doing a little Q&A," the host announced. "We'll be randomly picking three fans from the audience, so start thinking about what you might want to ask if your number comes up!" Haruki stood stiffly, posture almost military as he tried not to look directly at the audience. The first fan called up was a high school girl dressed in a fox spirit cosplay from Natsume. She was cute and visibly nervous, clutching the mic with both hands. "Um... excuse me, can I ask any question?" she asked the host. The host laughed. "Within reason, yes. But let's keep it respectful!" The girl nodded quickly, then turned to Haruki. "Um... do you have a girlfriend?" The room instantly fell silent. Clearly, she wasn't the only one curious. Haruki glanced sideways at the host. Seriously? Do I have to answer that? The host simply smiled, eyes twinkling like she was enjoying this way too much. "...No," Haruki said after a beat. The crowd erupted again, with a few excited squeals and some laughter. He sighed inwardly. What's so exciting about that? The second fan was called—a girl in a cozy knit sweater, fidgeting nervously as she adjusted her glasses. "Hi, Mizushiro-sensei! I really love Natsume, and Anohana too. I saw some posters online for those two new short films—5 Centimeters per Second and Voices of a Distant Star. They look... different. Are you nervous about how people will respond?" Haruki nodded slowly. Now that was a real question. "I was nervous with Anohana too," he said. "It was something quiet, but it still reached people. These new films are shorter, but I put the same heart into them. They're gentle stories, and I think the right audience will find them." A few murmurs passed through the crowd. "They're short films?" "I heard one of them's like... 25 minutes?" "They both look really pretty though." He nodded once, then added with a slight smile, "Also, just a reminder—Natsume's Book of Friends anime starts airing in April. I hope you'll check it out." Cheers rose again. "Of course!" "Definitely watching!" The final fan selected turned out to be a woman in a smart blazer, DSLR hanging from her neck, and a press badge clipped to her bag. Clearly a journalist. She looked mildly surprised her number had come up—but stepped forward without hesitation. "Mizushiro-sensei," she began, "this season's anime lineup is pretty packed. Big-name directors, established studios. It's a crowded field." Haruki gave a cautious nod. "I'm curious—5 Centimeters per Second and Voices of a Distant Star are both a little under the radar right now. Do you think they'll be able to stand out?" The room quieted slightly—not because the question was aggressive, but because it wasn't the usual fan chatter. Backstage, Haruka folded her arms. A press rep sneaking into a fan Q&A wasn't ideal, but it happened. Haruki took a breath. He wasn't rattled, just thoughtful. "They're not flashy shows," he said plainly. "But I think there's room for stories like that, too. Not every series has to be loud to leave an impact. Whether people watch them or not that's out of my hands. I just hope the ones who do... remember them." There was a short silence, followed by soft applause. It wasn't a big speech—just a sincere answer. With that, the Q&A wrapped, and the signing began. Haruki took his seat behind the long table. The line of fans stretched across the venue, mostly girls. Almost every one of them brought at least one volume of Natsume. Some had small gifts. Others asked for special messages or quick selfies. One fan shyly asked him to write, "To my love, may your days be soft and kind." Haruki wrote it without comment, guessing it was for someone else. A few spots ahead in the long line stood a girl in her early twenties, holding volumes one through three pressed against her chest. Her name was Hana, and she'd taken the day off her part-time café job just for this. It wasn't just that the manga was good—it had arrived at exactly the right time. In the span of half a year, Natsume had gone from something she picked up on a whim to a series she re-read on quiet nights, when the world felt a little too loud. Now, standing in the long, winding line of mostly young women, surrounded by soft chatter and the rustle of shopping bags and art prints, Hana couldn't stop fidgeting. She kept checking her books, making sure they hadn't bent. She'd even bought a new cardigan for today—not to impress anyone, but to feel ready. When her turn came, she stepped up to the table with a soft "Hello," barely above a whisper. Haruki looked up at her, pen in hand. "Hi. Thanks for coming." His voice wasn't the smooth, rehearsed kind she expected from public figures. It was honest. A little tired, but not unfriendly. "I started reading Natsume last summer," Hana said quickly. "It's... It really helped. I was going through something and, I don't know, the way Natsume still tries to understand people even when he doesn't feel like he belongs It felt really personal." Haruki didn't say anything at first. Then he nodded, thoughtful. "I think a lot of people feel that way," he said. "I'm glad it found you when it did." He signed her books carefully, writing a quiet message beneath his name: To Hana—thank you for reading. May every spirit you meet be a gentle one. Hana blinked fast and pressed her lips together, trying not to get too emotional. As she stepped away, she held the books a little tighter. Back in the line, another fan leaned over and whispered, "You okay?" Hana nodded, smiling through the sting in her eyes. "Yeah. Just... happy." At first, the energy carried him. But soon, it was the fans' reactions that kept him going. Then the minutes stretched into hours. His wrist began to ache. The line didn't seem to shrink. By the time the final book was signed, it was well past 8 p.m. "Done?" Haruki asked, his voice hoarse. "All done," Haruka confirmed, stretching her arms. Haruki leaned back in his chair, rubbing his wrist. "I see why Airi bailed on her second event. Don't call me for this again." Haruka chuckled. "Sure. Until next time." The crowd had thinned, the lights inside the venue dimming as staff began packing up. Later, after things had wrapped and most people had cleared out, Haruki slipped outside to the rear entrance. He found a quiet bench near the venue's rear entrance and sank onto it, nursing a bottle of canned coffee. His wrist ached, and his back wasn't much better—but after hours of nonstop motion, the stillness felt strangely peaceful.. Haruka stepped out, still scrolling through her phone. "You're already trending." He didn't even bother pretending to be surprised. "Which post?" "There's one of you looking completely dead behind the eyes halfway through the signing. Someone captioned it, 'When you realize your wrist has more fans than you do.'" He let out a dry laugh, then winced. "Not wrong." She sat beside him. "Photos, quotes... even a meme of you praying mid-signing." He groaned. "Please tell me it's not the one where I looked like I was begging for help." "That's the one." She grinned. "But the rest are sweet. Quotes, sketches, reaction threads. One girl posted a selfie crying over what you wrote in her book." Haruki's brows lifted slightly. "Really?" "She said she didn't expect you to be kind. That it mattered more than she thought it would." He fell quiet, fingers tightening around the can. That invisible thread between mangaka and reader—it had always been there. But today, he'd seen it, face to face. "I guess that's worth the hand cramps," he said softly. Haruka added, "There's a bit of debate in the replies. Something about how your anime might get overshadowed since it's releasing next to bigger titles." Haruki gave a quiet hum. "That's fair. It's a soft story. It won't make waves the same way action shows do." Haruka studied him. "Does that bother you?" "Not really," he said. "They're quiet stories, yeah. But I know what they're worth. Once they air, people will feel it." There was no bravado in his voice. Just quiet certainty. Back in his apartment later that night, Haruki lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The room was too quiet after a day full of voices, handshakes, and soft-spoken thanks. His wrist ached. His throat was dry. His phone lit up with a new message. Airi: So? How's the post-event wrist? Still alive? Haruki: Barely. Airi: I did warn you. My second event almost broke me. Ryuko: But you only drew like two volumes back then. Airi: Rude. Still counts. Emotional exhaustion, okay? Haruki: Emotional exhaustion is real. Someone asked if I had a girlfriend ten minutes in. Ryuko: LOL. You should've said yes, just to see the reaction. Airi: He can't lie. His whole face would twitch. Haruki: I'm removing both of you from this chat. Ryuko: No you're not. Anyway, serious question—how'd it feel? There was a short pause before Haruki typed again. Haruki: ...Overwhelming. But also kind of great. They showed up because the story meant something to them. Airi: Good. That's exactly why we do this. Ryuko: You earned it. I mean, it's not like Natsume got popular by accident. It's good work. Haruki leaned his head back against the pillow, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. He didn't write more after that. The quiet filled the room again. Haruki set his phone aside, pulled the blanket over his shoulder, and let the day fade. [TL: What do you think about the chapter? This is my first time writing most of it and adding new fan reactions and other details. Let me know if anything feels off or could be improved!] Shout out to Richárd Főző, Ryan, lordarcan for joining my p-atreon! your support means everything to me. (TL:- if you want even more content, check out p-atreon.com/Alioth23 for 55+ advanced chapters)