I Got Isekai'd Into a Manga I Don't Know

Yesterday, I had a blast with the president and the student council members, eating and hanging out late into the night. They stayed after dinner, enjoying fruit my mom sliced up as dessert, chatting until around 9 p.m. before heading home.

Anyway, after that eventful first day, the second morning of Golden Week dawned.

"…I'm bored."

As usual, I woke up at 4 a.m., completed my daily routine, and still had time to kill, leaving me restless. I don't mind my disciplined lifestyle, but during Golden Week, the sudden lack of things to do is something to think about. Part of it is that I don't have many hobbies aside from reading manga. We don't even have a computer or gaming console at home.

So, lying on the floor, scrolling through video sites on my phone was all I could do—until a message popped up, making me sit up straight.

*Ding!*

「Hiii! Ryu-chan! You didn't forget our plan to come to my place today, right?」

I replied immediately.

「I was actually waiting for your message.」

「I asked Papa the other day, and he said today's fine. So come to our house by noon. Since I owe you a lot, Mama wants to treat you to lunch!」

Rika sent the message along with an address—a map of the area around Seijo, where she lives. The route looked straightforward, so I wasn't worried about getting lost.

Checking the time on my phone, it was only 9 a.m. Seijo Station is just two stops from Chitose-Funabashi Station, where I live, so unlike yesterday, leaving around 11 a.m. would be fine.

I pulled all the volumes of *Golden Samurai* from my bookshelf and packed them into my bag, planning to get them signed by Kishimoto-sensei today. I also grabbed a permanent marker and autograph paper. With that, my preparations for visiting Rika's house were complete.

Since I was invited, I wondered if showing up empty-handed was okay. After some thought, I decided to buy a box of energy drinks at a mart on the way—imagining a pro manga artist probably keeps a stack of them by their desk.

Excited at the thought of meeting the esteemed Kishimoto-sensei in three hours, I grabbed a change of clothes and headed to the bathroom, putting extra effort into getting ready.

---

Dressed neatly, I left the house at 11 a.m. as planned. Setagaya Ward is Tokyo's most densely populated area, with a lot of foot traffic. As I approached the subway ticket gate, people ahead of me glanced my way and subtly moved aside.

Normally, these wary looks are annoying, but today, I was grateful for the time they saved. I tapped my Suica card on the reader and waited on the platform for the next train. When it arrived, passengers poured out like a receding tide, and I squeezed myself into the crowded carriage, gripping the pole by the door.

I could feel nearby passengers sneaking curious glances at my physique. I know better than anyone how people see me. Sure, I could give up the muscles I've worked hard for, but honestly, I like how I look now. It'd be weird to force myself to fit others' biases or fears.

Deciding to focus on my phone until I reached my stop, I tuned out the stares.

---

Only two stops away, I arrived at Seijo Station in about ten minutes. Emerging from the platform to street level, I was struck by how different this part of Setagaya felt, despite being in the same ward. It was like crossing from Gangbuk to Gangnam in Korea—everyone's outfits screamed wealth.

I stopped by a mart near the station and bought a box of energy drinks. It was a bit of a splurge for a high schooler's allowance, but knowing it'd go to my favorite artist made it worth it.

As one of Tokyo's upscale neighborhoods, Seijo was filled with large single-family homes rather than apartments. Peeking over fences while walking, I saw two-story houses with pools straight out of a movie. Rika's house, my destination, was a bit farther from the station—likely chosen for privacy, given the nature of a manga artist's work.

Following the map Rika sent me, I climbed a hill and stopped in front of a three-story house surrounded by a tall fence.

"This must be it."

I pressed the intercom buzzer, and a familiar voice crackled through the speaker.

「Ah! Ryu-chan! You're finally here! Come in!」

*Click!*

The gate unlocked—Rika must've opened it remotely. I cautiously pushed it open and stepped inside.

"Wow…"

I don't get impressed easily, but today was an exception. The scene before me was straight out of a movie: a sprawling green lawn, a private pool, a garage packed with foreign cars, and a sleek, three-story duplex painted in a crisp monotone.

I walked slowly along the stone path to the entrance. A golden retriever bounded across the yard, wagging its tail enthusiastically at me. Considering most animals are scared of me, this one was remarkably carefree. I scratched its neck as it nuzzled me, then continued toward the front door.

Just before I reached it, the door swung open, and Rika, dressed casually, burst out.

"Surprise!"

I stared at her beaming face with my usual deadpan expression. Pouting, she put her hands on her hips. "Come on, you're supposed to act at least a little surprised in moments like this!"

"No, I *was* surprised. I just didn't know how to react."

As I answered, I petted the golden retriever tugging at my pants leg, begging for attention. Rika called out to it familiarly, "Taro!"

The dog, which had been clinging to me, immediately ran to her, sticking like glue. Noticing my envious glance, Rika grinned like a smug cat and puffed out her chest. "Isn't our Taro super cute?"

I nodded honestly. "I'd love to have one someday."

"Hmph!"

Looking as pleased as if she'd been complimented herself, Rika gestured for me to come inside. I carefully closed the front door and stepped in.

"Excuse me."

A presence approached from the living room. "Oh, welcome\~!"

I turned to greet them and froze. Standing there was a blonde beauty who looked almost identical to Rika. "Uh… um…"

I started to ask if she was Rika's older sister but hesitated. In rom-coms, this is usually the moment where the person turns out to be the mom, not the sister. But she looked too young—mid-to-late 20s at most—to have a 17-year-old daughter. It was cognitive dissonance.

Maybe she *was* Rika's sister? I was about to ask but stopped again, worried she might actually be her mom. Getting the greeting wrong on a first meeting could make things awkward for the rest of the visit. Should I go with the cliché and ask if she's the mom? But what if she's the sister? That'd make things even worse.

After weighing the options, I decided asking if she was the sister was safer. If she's the sister, great. If she's the mom, she'd likely take it as a compliment for looking young.

"Are you Rika's older sister?"

The blonde beauty, Rika's spitting image, burst out laughing and waved her hand. "Oh my, look at this guy! Flattering me right off the bat? I may look young, but not *that* young to be mistaken for my daughter's sister."

Her words confirmed she was Rika's mom. Relieved I'd made the right call, I let out a small sigh and held out the box of energy drinks. "I felt weird coming empty-handed, so I picked this up on the way."

Rika's mom looked slightly surprised but accepted the box. "You didn't have to, but thank you! Come in, come in. We've been bustling around all morning preparing for your visit, you know."

"Mama!" Rika, blushing, hurriedly tried to hush her mom, who teased her with a playful grin.

They looked less like mother and daughter and more like sisters with a slight age gap. 'The world of rom-coms is wild', I thought, following them to the kitchen.