A few days later…
"Huff… huff… huff…"
My lungs burned, my shirt clung to me like wet tissue, and my legs felt like rubber, but I kept going. Running had definitely become easier over the past month — surprisingly easier — but that didn't mean I enjoyed it. Every step still felt like a punishment, a constant reminder of the shell this body used to be trapped in.
After twenty minutes, I slowed the treadmill to a stop. My legs wobbled as I stepped off. "Phew…" I muttered, wiping the sweat off my forehead with a towel as I made my way to the nearest bench. I dropped onto it, the kind of drop that made you wonder if you'd ever get back up again.
The Next Day,
"Today is the day."
The excitement coursing through me made my hands shake. I had finished the manuscript for Parasyte, and after weeks of work — revising panels, refining art, reworking dialogue — I was finally ready to hand it in. I didn't just copy the original; I had enhanced it, sharpened its tone, and tweaked some parts to better resonate with this era like the anime from 2014 from my past life.
Now all I could do was hope it would catch fire.
Shueisha's building loomed ahead of me. Underwhelming or not, it might just become the place where my dreams truly begin. I made my way inside and walked directly to Sato's office, where the man himself was glued to his computer screen, typing furiously.
"Good morning, Sato-san!" I said with a bow.
He glanced up, nodded, and gestured for me to take a seat. I sat down across from him and handed him the manuscript. As soon as he opened it, his eyes flickered with recognition. His expression softened — the kind of look editors get when they see something that just clicks.
As he flipped through the pages, I noticed his smile fade a bit. Not into disappointment — more like concern.
"Watanabe-san," he began carefully, "this is very, very good. Honestly, better than I expected. You've made something sharp, modern, and unique — your revision elevated the material in ways I didn't even think of."
I smiled with a mix of pride and relief. But then came the 'but.'
"However," he continued, "I have to be honest with you about something."
"Yes, I'm all ears," I said, my posture straightening.
"I wanted to push this even harder. I was hoping we could put your one-shot on the front page. With your art style, the cover could have been stunning. I even argued for second or third place in the issue's lineup to get you maximum visibility." He paused, frustration flickering across his face. "But… the editor-in-chief refused to meet with me. He didn't even look at your manuscript. He's stuck in his ways and isn't open to anything new right now."
There was a brief silence.
"But please," he said, more earnestly, "if this doesn't get the reception it deserves, don't think it's because you're not good enough. Sometimes talent isn't the issue — it's timing, and the system."
That actually hit me a bit harder than expected. Not because I was discouraged — but because I realized how much this man actually cared. He didn't have to tell me that. He didn't have to protect me from disappointment. But he did.
"Thank you, sir," I said, bowing my head.
Most newbies aren't lucky enough to land a senior who believes in them from the start. But I had. And now, I was more determined than ever to prove him right.
But I also tried a few things on my own," Sato added, leaning back in his chair, his fingers interlaced over his stomach. "I've decided to promote your one-shot on social media. Maybe it'll pick up traction, maybe not — but I figured, why not try? So don't worry too much, okay?"
I blinked in surprise, but a grin slowly crept onto my face. "You're really going all-in on this, huh?"
"Of course. When I see talent, I push for it. And I'm telling you, this work of yours — it's special."
We talked a little longer, finalizing the details. The one-shot was scheduled to appear in Weekly Shonen Jump on Monday, which was just a few days away — it was currently Wednesday, meaning the wait wouldn't be unbearable… though it would definitely feel long with all the anticipation piling up.
After leaving the building, I felt a new kind of fire in my chest. The kind that makes your steps faster and your heart beat louder. This is it. The spark's lit — now let's see if it catches.
Later that evening…
"Tadaima," I called out as I stepped inside the house, using the front door like a normal person now — something that still seemed to surprise my mom every time.
"Welcome home, Yu-chan!" she said from the kitchen, poking her head out with a warm smile.
She walked over with a dish towel in hand, then paused and squinted at me. "Wait a second… didn't you lose a bit of weight?"
I blinked, caught off guard, then smirked. "Oh? You noticed? I guess all that effort is finally paying off."
She chuckled softly, clearly pleased. "You really do look slimmer… and wait—" she took a step closer, eyes narrowing again. "Aren't you also… taller?"
I glanced at the top of the doorframe, then at her — she did seem slightly shorter compared to me now. "Huh. Maybe you're right."
"But is that even possible? You're already an adult, aren't you?"
I scratched my cheek awkwardly. "Maybe it's just posture. I've been exercising and stretching more, maybe that's it."
She didn't seem totally convinced, but she let it go with a gentle laugh. "Either way, I'm happy for you."
"Thanks. I'm tired though — I'm gonna crash early."
"Alright. Sleep well, Yu-chan!"
As I climbed the stairs to my room, there was the confirmation, the body I inherited was improving. The gift really worked.
Maybe… just maybe, I thought, flopping onto my bed, there's hope for my little brother…