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

After lunch, Kishimoto-sensei kept his promise and showed me his studio. It was filled with anatomy reference materials, collections of Eastern art, various manga, and a tablet. Seeing the workspace I'd only glimpsed in photos felt surreal.

"I usually do storyboarding at home and draw the actual manga at a studio in the next town over," Kishimoto-sensei said, arms crossed and chuckling. "I'm the type who can't focus at home."

Just being in my favorite mangaka's workspace was more than enough for me—I didn't need anything more.

"Oh, Sensei, could I ask for your autograph?"

"Of course, that's no problem at all."

I pulled out the full set of *Golden Samurai* from my bag. The 28 volumes, well-worn from multiple reads, showed their age. Kishimoto-sensei signed each one on the inside cover. After getting all 28 volumes and a signing paper autographed, I bowed deeply, overwhelmed with satisfaction.

"Thank you, Sensei! I'll treasure these forever!"

He laughed gently and waved his hand. "Haha, my autograph's nothing special. Just keep being good friends with my daughter."

"Yes, sir!"

After the studio tour, Rika led me upstairs to her room.

"Ta-da! This is my room!"

It was… surprisingly subdued. The decor was calm and modern, with a few cute knickknacks, but it hardly felt like a 17-year-old girl's room.

Is this her mom's taste? I wondered, stepping inside. Then I froze, stunned by a wall lined with manga. "Whoa."

"Hehe, kinda overwhelming, right? My friends had the same reaction when they first came over."

I thought Rika just liked shonen manga a little, but this wasn't "a little"—it was an obsession. Famous shonen titles were meticulously organized by genre, filling the shelves in a spectacular display. Anyone would mistake this for a library, not a bedroom.

"Sit there and wait. I'll grab some tea and snacks," Rika said.

Following her suggestion, I sat on a cushion by a low table. It was my first time in a girl's room, but it felt oddly comfortable, probably because of all the shonen manga. It was like visiting a friend's house.

As Rika headed to the kitchen, she glanced back, as if remembering something. "Don't touch anything while I'm gone, okay? I'll be super mad if you do."

"Got it."

She seemed worried about leaving me alone in her room, probably due to privacy concerns typical for her age. I nodded, and she said she'd be quick before leaving.

"Hm…"

Alone in the room, it sank in: I was at a friend's house on a holiday—an "insider" moment I'd never have imagined before. I didn't have any romantic feelings for Rika, but being alone in a girl's room felt strange. Maybe it was my imagination, but the room had a pleasant, fragrant scent—unlike my room, which mostly smelled of sweat.

To shake off the weird thoughts, I decided to kill time with a game on my phone. Just as I opened the app—

"Hi~"

Rika's mom suddenly walked in.

"Oh, ma'am?" I started to stand, flustered.

She motioned for me to stay seated and quietly closed the door. "Calling me 'ma'am' makes me sound old. Just call me Maria-san."

…Was it okay to call a friend's mom that? I hesitated, but her insistence left me no choice. "Uh, okay, Maria-san. What brings you here?"

I'd assumed she'd be downstairs since Rika went to get snacks. Maria-san flashed a mischievous smile. "I came to show you Rika's dark history~"

"Dark history?"

I blinked, unable to imagine what she meant. Grinning slyly, she revealed a photo album she'd been hiding behind her back. "Ta-da! This is Rika's growth album. As her friend, aren't you curious?"

A photo album at a friend's house—a classic, almost clichéd event, but as a Jump fan, I couldn't resist. Tempted, I nodded shyly, and Maria-san sat across from me, opening the album with gusto.

It started innocently with Rika's childhood. "This is Rika at one, this is her at two, and this is her at three, when we visited England together."

Maria-san pointed at each photo, sharing stories with a nostalgic smile. "Oh, this is from her school play. She got cast as a tree by lot and came home pouting—it was so cute."

Chuckling, she turned the page. "Oh, this brings back memories. This is from when Rika and I went to Comiket for the first time."

What?

I tilted my head, caught off guard. The photo showed a blonde mother-daughter duo with twin-tails, dressed in black cosplay outfits, holding modernized wands, striking poses. They were dressed as rival characters from a magical girl series popular about a decade ago. I hadn't seen it, but Yuseong's memories recognized it.

Seeing my stunned expression, Maria-san laughed proudly. "I was a first-generation cosplayer. My dream was to cosplay with my daughter when she was born."

Casually revealing her past, she continued. "This is from C73, and this one from C78 was taken by my husband."

In the photos, Maria-san, leveraging her blonde foreign appearance, cosplayed various foreign characters, with Rika always by her side. "Hehe, isn't my daughter adorable? She inherited my cosplay talent."

Early cosplay training was a cultural shock, to say the least. Was this the dark history she meant?

As I nodded, trying to process it, Maria-san said, "Ah, here it is—Rika's real dark history."

"There's more?" I asked, shocked that something could top this.

Her reaction pleased, she showed me the photo. It depicted middle school Rika, wearing an eyepatch, a black gothic lolita dress, and red contact lenses, striking an overly cool pose—

"Mama!"

A sharp voice came from behind. I hurriedly closed the album. Maria-san greeted Rika calmly. "Oh, you're back already?"

Rika, her face flushed, stomped over, slamming a tray of snacks on the table. "You didn't show him, did you?"

Maria-san smiled warmly and nodded. "Yup."

"KYAAAH!" Rika shrieked, overcome with embarrassment.

This wasn't her usual playful, mischievous self—she was genuinely mortified. And understandably so. Having a classmate see a photo from her chuunibyou phase would do that. If it were me, I'd be looking for a hole to crawl into.

As I hesitated, unsure how to comfort her, Rika, teary-eyed, blurted out, "I don't do cosplay anymore, okay?! That was just… a mistake from my rebellious phase!"

"Yeah, I believe you," I said, nodding.

For some reason, that made her look even more pained. Is this the cry of someone whose dark history was exposed?

Maria-san, enjoying her daughter's distress, tucked the album under her arm and waved. "I'll leave you two to have fun~"

Rika jumped up from the bed and shouted at her mom's retreating figure, "Don't ever come back to my room!"

But Maria-san just closed the door and left without a word. Still fuming, Rika, tears in her eyes, turned to me. "You'll keep this a secret, right?"

I gave a wry smile and nodded. "I don't have anyone to tell anyway."