The entrance ceremony was held at Garam Hall, the largest auditorium in Hanul’s A Building. Mija, Juri, and I sat in the second-year seats, watching the ceremony without much interest.
“…..”
The freshmen, neatly dressed in their Hanul uniforms, looked as if they were deeply moved—just like our classmates had been a year ago.
Meanwhile, our peers seemed to harbor some excitement and expectations for the new students.
Watching the freshmen sing the school song,
I could hear whispers of laughter among my classmates.
“They’re so cute.”
“They’re only a year younger than us.”
“They look like little kids…”
‘To me, you all still look like little kids too,’ I thought.
In contrast, our group didn’t have much to say. We didn’t know any of the new students, and, to be honest, they already knew about the most infamous topic in Hanul’s recent history about me.
‘Last year’s entrance ceremony was a bit chaotic because of my return and Mari’s situation, wasn’t it…?’
Journalists had swarmed in to snap pictures of me.
Even my classmates, who were practically like older sisters, had rushed toward me.
The chaos surrounding me with people calling me cute and causing a ruckus…
“….”
The memory left me feeling a little dizzy for a moment.
– “Next, we will have the school song.”
“…..”
But the atmosphere now was surprisingly calm. There was a balanced mix of excitement and anticipation.
This was what a typical entrance ceremony was supposed to look like.
In a plain tone, I muttered,
“Freshmen are here.”
“Yeah.”
“Ahaha, that’s so dry.”
“Juri-chan, are you heading to the club room later?”
“No, I’m going out with Yujin-unnie. What about you, Hana?”
“I’m going with Mi-chan to the club room.”
“Got it.”
“Should we call Mari-chan too?”
“No, Mari said she wanted to nap in the studio.”
“Ah, naruhodo.”
That was the end of our impressions.
The entrance ceremony wrapped up after a series of minor events. Soon, the teary-eyed freshmen began wandering around the campus to explore.
Mija and I headed straight to the club room.
‘If we stayed any longer, we’d end up attracting unnecessary attention.’
Mija and I had always stood out, and it was no different now. Whenever outsiders visited, our go-to move was to quickly retreat to the club room.
Our hideout since last year… the <Manga Research Club> room.
To us, it was practically our personal playground—a sanctuary for our group (me, Mari, Juri, and Mija).
The bizarre club called the <Manga Research Club>.
At first, it was just a club we formed to have a place where we could hang out together.
However, the administration at Hanul took into consideration Mari’s unique circumstances…..her difficulty with group activities…….and my own unique position as the youngest student ever admitted.
They even gave us a studio equipped with a computer as our club room.
Thanks to their generosity, we made the most of that room for a year. Mostly, it served as a venue for snack parties and socializing.
“Our club only has four members, so it’s practically a ghost club. But thanks to Mari’s and my accomplishments, we somehow became this bizarre club with the highest award record…”
And so, today, we once again used the room freely. However, instead of a snack party, we gathered here today for an actual club activity.
A few minutes later, Mija and I were staring at the screen of a laptop (borrowed from Mija’s house). Scattered around us were various tools and sketchbooks. They were the equipment for today’s task.
But today, it wasn’t Mija drawing on the computer—it was me.
“….”
“….”
As I drew for the first time in a while, my heart raced nervously. It wasn’t traditional drawing, but digital art. Sweat was dripping from my hand gripping the tablet pen, almost soaking it.
After a while of silent work, I finally finished the drawing.
“W-what do you think?”
“…”
Gulp.
I stole a glance at Mija, sitting beside me. Her blue eyes reflected the white light of the monitor, giving them an almost translucent appearance. She was furrowing her brows in deep contemplation.
We sat in silence.
“…..”
“….”
Finally, Mija spoke in a defeated tone.
“Well… uh… it’s good.”
“Really? Does it look like something out of a comic?”
“Hmm, not really. It’s got a solid illustration vibe. You’re clearly someone who excels at whatever you do. But… hmm…”
“But?”
“It just doesn’t give off that otaku vibe at all. It looks like a plain portrait. No matter how hard I try, I can’t see it as anything else.”
“Why?!”
“You drew it way too realistically.”
Mija pointed at the screen with her finger.
On it was the illustration I had poured my heart into: a so-called “cute anime girl.”
I had read books about webtoon creation and made sure to incorporate concepts like “layers” and “deformation” into what I considered a masterpiece.
‘Layers are like stencils used to overlap multiple drawings, and deformation is about exaggeration and beautification to make the subject look as pretty as possible,’ I thought.
Today’s work was specifically for this goal:
Theme: Drawing the Ideal Cute Anime Girl Illustration.
But the feedback I received was icy cold.
“When you draw with such soft, blurred lines, it completely loses the comic vibe. It almost looks like a realistic sketch. And sure, your anatomy is on point, but there’s no… no passion in it.
It feels like you just quietly observed a real-life pretty girl and drew her.”
“Well, I did tweak Mari’s face a little…”
“Wait. Now that I look closer—this is Mari’s face, isn’t it?!”
“It’s just because it’s a face I remember. Mari is pretty. Besides, this ‘cute girl’ has a different hair color than Mari. It’s purely a fictional character.”
“That’s not enough!”
Mija shook her head emphatically at my explanation.
“No, no, you’re wrong! Cute girl illustrations…! This has no moe at all!”
“What even is that…?”
“An inner surge of desire! The roar of longing from your soul!”
“?”
Mija’s face flushed slightly as she exclaimed, “You get it, right, Hana-chan?”
“Uh, no, not really. Isn’t a cute girl just… a pretty female character?”
“No! Absolutely not! Don’t you have desires, Hana-chan? You need to channel that longing into your art!”
“L-longing?”
“For example, imagining yourself as an amazing woman loved by everyone! Oh, wait, you’re already getting that! Damn it, you lucky normie! Anyway…!
Or imagining yourself wielding superpowers, being an impeccable vampire noble respected by all, or at the very least, becoming a character in an epic adventure! Haven’t you ever dreamed of that?”
“Of course I have.”
What a silly question. I used to shudder at my pathetic self in my past life. How many times did I fantasize about being reborn?
‘Well… that dream did kind of come true, unintentionally.’
Mija reacted passionately to my answer.
“Right?! Everyone imagines it at least once!”
“…Yeah.”
“Then why can’t you pour that into your drawings!”
“Uh…”
“This is just, ‘Oh~ a pretty girl~’ and that’s it! Do you want to date this girl? Or be this girl?”
“Hmm. Neither, really.”
“See?! Reflect the dark, brooding desires of an otaku more deeply!”
Mija paused for a moment, seemingly deep in thought, before grabbing her bag.
She pulled out a notebook hidden deep within it. The notebook had a luxurious leather cover, exuding an air of importance.
“What’s this…?”
“Heh… Hehehe… Uheheheh! This… this is the essence of otaku culture!”
“…!”
As Mija’s trembling hands opened the notebook, a mysterious world unfolded before me.
The pages were filled with beautifully drawn illustrations of cute girls, accompanied by dense annotations and settings written in detail.
[Scarlet☆Magical☆Princess, the Greatest Magical Girl in the Universe]
– Age: 10,000 years (basically a god).
– Combat Ability: Capable of mastering all magic and the power of love.
– Magical Girl Ranking: Rank 0 (technically more powerful than Rank 1 but forgotten by all, acknowledged only by ancient deities).
Below that was an elaborate backstory describing just how noble and sublime this character was.
Logic and coherence had clearly been thrown out the window, but every word radiated an intense longing—an earnest projection of the desire to become this girl.
A delusion that blinded him to reality. She wanted the world to revolve around her. I was afraid of Mija’s courage to show someone this naked desire.
I looked at the painting, speechless.
“…”
“Hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo… This is the culmination of the delusion I first set up in the fifth grade while watching Snow White, the Scarlet Magical Princess…!
I wanted to create a tortured, three-dimensional character rather than a righteous protagonist!”
“…”
“If you’re an otaku, you have to draw with this level of delusional power…!”
“…”
“Oooh, that otaku cutline is tight.”
I looked at my drawing again.
“…”
So ordinary.
Just a rip-off of Mari’s likeness.
I could see why Mija would look at it and say,
“This is not an otaku drawing!”
My drawings were like, ‘There’s no desire at all, expression of desire.’
Compared to that naked conglomeration of desire, it was almost a embarrassing.
“…”
Hmm.
“It’s a little embarrassing, but I think I know exactly what you mean.
I nodded inwardly, impressed by Mija’s devotion.
“Thank you. Mi-chan. I feel like I’ve come up with something.”
“Well, shall we start drawing again now?”
“Okay. Thanks.”
I began to revise the picture of the beautiful girl on the screen that referenced Mari. In my head, I was thinking endlessly about my desire.
“I want her eyes to be bigger. I want them to be so clear and clean and righteous that you can see her soul.”
“What color should my eyes be? Like silver, silver.”
“Silver? Isn’t that too unrealistic?”
“Go on, tell me your dream!”
“…Silver is pretty.”
“Then go ahead!”
Gulp
“I wish I was taller, so that strangers would mistake me for a model…!”
“Boobs……! Boobs! This much! Just enough to bully!”
“Oooh, Hana-chan! Woohoo~! Yo, bewitching!”
Sneak
“What about your abilities, do you have any special abilities?”
“Mo, the ability to heal everyone and revive the dead!”
“A saint! You know what you’re talking about, Hana-chan! Then you can make an elegant crisscross pattern based on a nun’s habit…!”
Sigh.
Three hours after that.
We were facing a conglomeration of desires.
The beautiful girl art I created.
Although it wasn’t a polished illustration and consisted only of line art, it had an undeniable pull unlike anything I’d drawn before. It was raw and honest, a projection of my deepest desires.
Mija hugged me tightly, patting me on the back with pride.
“H-Hana-chan, you’ve finally awakened…!”
“I think I understand what an otaku illustration is now!”
“Yes!”
“N-Now, shall we give this girl a name?”
“…Saint Marianna!”
“That’s perfect! Absolutely perfect…!”
Just as we were basking in our shared enthusiasm, an unexpected voice cut through from behind us.
“Hmm… so that’s what desire looks like?”
“…!”
“…!”
Mija and I whipped around in shock. Standing in the doorway, rubbing her eyes and pushing her eyepatch up onto her forehead, was Mari.
“M-Mari…? You’re awake?”
“Yeah. But that drawing…”
“Oh, uh, well… that’s…”
Before I could explain, Mari leaned in and coolly analyzed the image.
“It’s a reinterpretation of an Asian face with Western aesthetics.
The exaggerated maturity stands out, and the disregard for realistic proportions suggests that the base is driven by the intensity of the piece’s message—pure desire.”
“…”
“This outfit… is she a nun? A nun with her hair exposed? Oh, you did that to emphasize the hair color, right. Fashion-wise, it’s pretty, but there’s no trace of religious restraint.”
“….”
“And… is that supposed to be my face? Maybe not? Anyway, it seems like the ideal woman envisioned by the artist is mature, kind, and embodies a saintly, motherly figure with religious undertones.
A drawing that reveals a longing to escape reality, like something a monk would create.”
“….”
Hearing my indulgences and desires so ruthlessly dissected…
I suddenly felt an overwhelming wave of enlightenment and shame crash over me.
Sob…!
I crumbled inwardly.
Mija scrambled to support me as I slowly sank to the ground.
“Hana-chan!! Hana-chan!! Don’t lose consciousness!!”
Sob…
“Mari-chan! How could you say something like that?! Apologize! An otaku’s heart is more delicate than glass!”
“W-what?! Since when did Hana become an otaku?!”
“Today, Hana was being reborn as an otaku… and you crushed her emerging cocoon mid-metamorphosis…!”
“Me-Metamorphosis…?”
Mari tilted her head in confusion.
“Why the sudden otaku talk…?”
“Well, about that…”
Before Mija could respond, I managed to pull myself together enough to answer.
“I just wanted to try something new.”
“A new project?”
“Yeah.”
“But why the otaku route? Are you trying to emulate Murakami Takashi or something?”
“Well… it’s kind of similar, I guess.”
“?”
As I tried to explain, a wave of embarrassment hit me. After all, this was yet another concept borrowed from the future knowledge I possessed.
‘I figured that if I did something completely out of my comfort zone for this low-pressure project, it might help me find some clues about “my own style.” That’s why I decided to explore a field far removed from my major…’
Scratching my head, I finally said, “It’s… uh, this concept called… VTubers. I thought I’d try making a kind of digital installation piece based on it.”
“?”
“?”
Both Mija and Mari tilted their heads simultaneously with confusion written all over their faces.