by Kayla Morgan
Before she knew it, Mr. Nakamura’s office building was right in front of her, and her whole body lurched into a halt. She stood clutching her portfolio to her chest and forced herself into taking those deep breaths again. So she could stop shivering like she had hypothermia again. But it was as if her soul had wandered outside of her body and was watching her stand there in the cold, crowded street. Maybe her new confident mindset wasn’t strong enough for this type of extreme situation.
Shit. Come on, Johnson. You can do this. You just have to keep walking.
But her body was screaming for her to run back. Her old thoughts came back. If she didn’t go forward, she couldn’t be rejected. She could live with her small hope untainted by the world. It sounded so tempting that she took one step backwards. But a voice stopped her before she could flee.
“Sumimasen, are you Johnson-san?”
Her soul sucked back into her body, and she looked up to see a heavy-set man with kind eyes and specks of gray shining in his hair.
It was Mr. Nakamura. She recognized him from the pictures Akio had found online.
“Hai,” she squeaked out.
He gave her a slow, steady smile. “Hajimemashite, I’m Nakamura Kenichi. I was worried you wouldn’t be able to find the place, but you seemed to do fine all on your own. Come on in. Why don’t we get out of the cold?”
She followed him inside the large office building. He showed her to one of the small suites with the name ‘Nakamura’ on the plaque outside. Inside the little suite were three desks overflowing with books, papers, pens, stencils, just about everything a mangaka could need. There was a small table and TV propped up in the corner with a microwave. A young woman was sitting at the table eating a bowl of instant ramen. She stood up when she noticed Emily was in the room.
“Hajimemashite! I’m Okada Yuko. I’m Mr. Nakamura’s assistant. You must be Johnson-san. It’s so nice to meet you! I’m excited to have another girl around the office.”
Okada-san seemed to be in her thirties, and Emily was relieved to see that she was dressed in comfortable pants and a hoodie for the job. She also had awesome, pink-dyed hair. It was so stylish that it made Emily reconsider getting a new wig in that type of style.
Which reminded her that she was wearing a wig. That she was about to lie to these people about who she was and where she had come from.
The thought paralyzed her for a second.
But she was already here. She couldn’t turn around now. Right? It was too late, wasn’t it?
Okada flashed her a kind smile. Her teeth were a little crooked on the top, but Emily liked it. It gave her even more character.
Emily pushed down her fears. She couldn’t give it up now, when she was so close to realizing her dream. Doubts pushed aside, all her studying from the past week came back to her. She bowed deeply and politely introduced herself. “I am Johnson Emily. It is nice to meet you both. Thank you for this opportunity.”
Nakamura bowed back. “Let’s go sit over at the desks. I’m sorry they are such a mess. The life of an artist isn’t a very organized one.”
“I can understand that,” Emily agreed, finally showing a real smile. Her desk back in the dorm was just as much of a disaster.
Nakamura sat down at what seemed to be his desk. Okada sat down at hers. She waited until Nakamura had invited her to sit down at the third desk across from him before she sat down, just like the internet had said. She sat with her ankles crossed, and her hands folded in her lap over top of her portfolio. She sat up straight, despite her stupid restrictive suit.
“Well, Johnson-san. My sister has told me a lot about you. She even sent over your paperwork from the university. What can you tell me about yourself though?”
Emily took a deep breath. She had been prepared for this one. She launched into how she grew up in America (strategically leaving out the part about her all-American parents) and became obsessed with anime at a young age. Then she found manga and started drawing. Her grandmother had been her biggest supporter and now she had come to Japan to try and realize her dream of becoming a mangaka.
“That’s a big dream to undertake, Johnson-san,” Nakamura responded. “I don’t know if your teachers have told you this yet but being a mangaka is hard work. We work very long hours every day. Sometimes we only get three hours of sleep a night, just so we can be ready for our deadline. It is an incredibly time-consuming job that can keep you away from your friends and family. And, unless you become famous, you will never make much money. But, with that said, seeing all your hard work come to life on the page and knowing that someone out there is enjoying what you created, makes it everything worth it.”
“Not to say that you can’t ever see your friends or have a social life,” Okada-san added. “I’ve been dating my boyfriend for two years, and we’ve hit some rough patches, but we’ve made it out just fine. You just have to surround yourself with people who understand what you’re doing and are willing to support you in it no matter what.”
Emily nodded. “That makes a lot of sense.”
Mr. Nakamura continued. “I don’t want to scare you off, but I don’t want you to be misled either. Many people have entered this field and been burnt out before they could even begin. Is this something you are willing to put your heart and soul into?”
“Absolutely, Mr. Nakamura,” Emily responded, without hesitation. “Manga has been my whole life. I want to give it everything I’ve got.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that. Of course, this internship wouldn’t be nearly the number of hours that you would have if you were working here full-time. We would only need you for a couple hours after school on weekdays and a half-day on Saturday. However, I don’t want you to start lagging behind in school because of this job. Do you understand, Johnson-san?”
Emily nodded fiercely. “Of course.”
“Good. Because I’m pretty sure my sister would kill me if I kept her best student from succeeding in her schoolwork.” Nakamura had a deep, hearty laugh. It kind of reminded her of Santa Claus. “Now, let’s look at this portfolio of yours. My sister has said wonderful things about it.”
Emily handed it over with two hands and bowed slightly. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t even shaking. “Well, I do not know about ‘wonderful’. I worked very hard and tried my best, though.” Her heart soared as the words came out of her mouth with ease. Maybe she really could be confident in her work someday. “I hope you enjoy it,” she added.
Mr. Nakamura flipped slowly through the pages, and Okada-san scooted her chair closer so that she could look as well. Emily’s heart hammered in her chest, but she also, surprisingly, felt a sense of relief. This was it. If they didn’t like it, then she would finally know. No more sleepless nights wondering if the portfolio was good enough. She couldn’t run now. She would have to move forward from this moment, no matter what they decided.
Okada-san was the first one to look up and smile. “This is very good, Johnson-san. It is obvious that you have a lot of natural talent.”
“Definitely,” Nakamura agreed. “This is above and beyond what we would need you to do here as an assistant. It would mostly be filling in the details, such as adding screen tones or dimensions to the clothing. Plus, filling in the backgrounds and crowd elements. But from what I see here, I can tell that you have a very promising start to a mangaka career. I would be more than happy to take you under my wing as my assistant.”
It was as if every cell inside her started screaming in joy all at once. Buckets of relief coursed through her entire body. The smile on her face shone so brightly that she could have blocked out the sun completely.
“Thank you, Mr. Nakamura! Thank you! Thank you so much for this opportunity!” Emily could barely contain her joy. She popped up and bowed deeply to both of them.
Okada-san chuckled at Emily’s enthusiasm. Mr. Nakamura stood up and began showing Emily around the small room, explaining everything they did and what was expected of her. He even promised to have
the third desk cleaned off for her by March 1st, when she would officially start her job.
Emily tried her best to take in everything they were saying, but her heart was still singing with joy. She had made it. This was it. She would never have to go back to America and become the corporate zombie that her parents wanted her to be. She didn’t have to return to her friends at school as a failure. This was the beginning of the rest of her life.
She had finally made it.
chapter twenty
Emily frantically texted her friends the good news. Their replies came pouring in:
Congrats Emi-chan! I always knew you could do it! Ｏ(≧∇≦)Ｏ
That’s wonderful to hear, Johnson-chan. Omedetou!
Akio’s message came through last: Congratulations Emily-chan! Let’s meet up to celebrate!
He sent her the address of a restaurant that was all the way back in Shinjuku, so Emily headed back towards the train station. She slipped in the closest ladies’ room and changed into the outfit that Michi had shoved into her bag— the little black dress she had no use for with her black leggings. She scoured through the bag looking for some comfortable shoes, but no such luck. Michi hadn’t packed anything. She was stuck with her black heels.
“Great,” she muttered, “I’m only going to have stumps for feet by the end of the night.”
Emily headed back out and hopped on the train. She wasn’t allowed to call anyone once she was on it, so she sent a short email to Grandma Margaret instead, filling her in on the good news, promising to call her later with more details.
Once she left the train, the restaurant’s address wasn’t too far. The building it was inside of, though, was huge. Apparently, according to the sign, the restaurant was all the way on the top floor of this building. As she rode up the elevator, she noticed the others shoved in around her. All the women were dressed incredibly classy—dresses with elegant necklaces and high heels. Even the men were dressed up in high-end suits. Emily adjusted her coat, grateful that Michi had insisted she dressed up tonight.
A message blinked on her phone. It was from Akio saying that he had reservations under his name. Emily stepped off the elevator with the rest of the crowd and made her way towards the hostess. She couldn’t help but gawk at the scene around her. This place was fancy. Waiters were bringing out perfectly grilled steaks to the stylish customers. The high-end wine brands that she had only ever seen in her father’s wine cellar were being poured. And outside, the Tokyo skyline twinkled, perfectly complimenting the starry atmosphere of the restaurant.
“Daaamn,” Emily whispered under her breath in English. While it was true that this internship was the beginning of her “big break”, she wasn’t one-hundred percent sure it was worth all of this. She still had her parents’ credit card to pay for this, but how were the others going to afford it?
“Reservation?” the hostess finally asked her.
“Ah, yes,” Emily replied, “Aki—I mean—Kenzou.”
The hostess bowed. “Right this way.”
She led Emily past the pristine tables with their sparkling wine and sophisticated couples. In the back, nestled in a corner table right beside the skyline, was Akio.
He was dressed in a handsome black suit with a crisp white undershirt. She almost didn’t recognize him at first. He could have been a model, or a wealthy businessman, or maybe the prince of a small country. He looked so debonair that it literally took her breath away.
“Akio?” she breathed.
He had been staring out the window, but when he heard her voice, he jumped up so suddenly that he almost knocked over the very expensive looking champagne bottle on the table. Luckily, the hostess was quick and grabbed it before it shattered all over the floor.
Akio turned red and bowed deeply. “Sumimasen.”
“It is not a problem,” she assured him, as if this happened all the time. “Enjoy your meal.”
Emily just kept standing there, drinking him in. She was afraid if she moved too quickly that this incredible dream that she must be having would suddenly disappear. That was certainly the only reasonable explanation for what was going on.
Akio was pulling on his suit sleeves, not looking anymore put together than she was feeling. “Ah!” he exclaimed, and he bent down quickly to grab a bouquet of roses out from beside his chair. “These are for you.”
Her eyes sprung wide. “Oh! Oh, wow! Akio, they’re beautiful. Arigatou.” They really were beautiful, each one still the perfect rosy red color without any imperfections from wilting yet. She looked around and took in the beautiful flowers and felt a little inadequate. It was just an internship after all. It wasn’t like she had become princess of Japan or anything.
Emily very carefully took a seat at the table and placed her roses in a vase that had been provided on the table. Damn, these people had thought of everything. Akio awkwardly followed suit. He almost knocked the table over in the process though. This time it was Emily who kept the champagne from falling over.
“Are you okay, Akio-kun?” Emily questioned. “You seem a little…off.”
He tried to flash her one of his famous smiles, but it came off a little shaky. “I’m fine. Really. Now tell me all about the interview! I want to hear everything.”
Emily launched into her story, telling him about how nervous she was at first but then finally walking into Mr. Nakamura’s office had really relaxed her. She told him the advice that Odaka-san and Mr. Nakamura gave her.
Akio nodded at that. “I’ve heard that a mangaka’s schedule is pretty crazy. But if anyone could handle it, it would be you.”
“Arigatou,” Emily said, “I mean, I hope I can. I definitely want to give it my best. And they said it was important to have friends that understand and are supportive of what I do at work. And luckily, I have all of you.”
The waitress came up right as Emily was finishing. “Have you had a chance to look over your menus?”
“Oh! No, sorry, not yet,” Emily apologized. “Plus, I think we’re waiting on two more, right?”
Akio avoided eye contact with her. He looked at the waitress instead. “Actually,” he told her, “it’s just us.”
“Well, then I’ll just take your drink order for now, sir.”
Wait. What?
Emily hadn’t even noticed the table when she was being escorted in. She was too busy taking in the extravagance of the place. But she and Akio were sitting at a two-person table; the larger tables were all the way on the other side of the room.
“And for you?”
“Oh, um,” she fumbled as she tried to shove down her nerves, “I’ll just have water, I guess.”
“Very good. I’ll be right out with those waters. Take your time looking at the menu.”
Emily’s heart was banging around like a caged bird as the waitress walked off. Was this a—? No, there was absolutely no way. She was just overthinking things.
She twisted the bottom of her curls, grateful she had taken her wig out of that annoying ponytail so she had access to them again. “So Michi and Hamada-kun aren’t coming?” At least her voice was coming out normal, instead of sounding like the nervous paranoid wreck she was becoming.
“Uh, well…no. They had Valentine’s Day plans. But we’re still going to meet them afterwards for drinks.”
Ah. Right. Valentine’s Day. Emily discreetly surveyed the room. The glistening candlelight. The soft music. The waves of romance flowing off every couple in the room. No wonder everyone had been so dressed up. Kami-sama above, how had she missed the signs?
It was Valentine’s Day.
This was a date.
Oxygen was a foreign concept for Emily’s brain for about five seconds, until it finally forced her to breathe in some air. Gracefully as she could, she played the gasp off as one of modest surprise.
“Oh my kami-sama, you’re right! How could I have forgotten it was Valentine’s Day? Some shoujo mangaka I’ll be, huh?” She finished with a light chuckle.
Perfec
t, Johnson. Nice save. Very smooth.
She picked up her menu and hid behind it to gain back some more of her composure. That’s when she noticed the prices on the menu. The numbers before these yen signs sure were big.
“This place is really expensive, Akio,” she said in an ‘as-if-she-just-noticed’ surprise.
“It’s okay. I’ve been saving up. I got a part-time job working as a deliveryman for Ichiban Ramen.”
Emily flipped her menu back down. “Akio! How on earth are you doing that? You already go to school full time. And you have to help your Obaa-chan at the inn!”
Akio just shrugged. “It’s okay. Hanami has been helping out a little more. She knew how important this dinner was to me.”
Her brain screamed. Nope. She wasn’t going to touch that comment with a one-hundred-meter stick. Subject change.
“I feel really bad that I forgot your chocolates. And after I waited all that time in line! Maybe we can stop by tonight and grab them still.”
“We can get them if you want. But I don’t need them. Tonight is all about you.”
Oh my Osamu. The look he was giving her. It wasn’t just any look. It was “The Look”. The same one that Hamada had given Michi only weeks before. But that was crazy. Akio wasn’t in love with her. He couldn’t be. Sure, they were friends. Best friends, in fact. But he teased her and put her in annoying situations. And he was so gorgeous. And she was just…a mess.
She tried one more time to take some of the tension off. “But in Japan Valentine’s Day is all about the girls giving presents and attention to the boys. You guys can’t pay us back until White Day in March. You’re about a month too early!”
He was still smiling so lovely at her. “You’re right. But I wanted to do something different. I decided to take after the typical American’s Valentine’s Day date. So I booked this place and bought the flowers.”
“I really appreciate it, Akio-kun,” she continued. “Even though I feel like me getting just a part-time internship isn’t nearly special enough for you to book some place so fancy. How did you book this place on such short notice? I didn’t even know when my interview was until last week.”