I was Thrown into an Unfamiliar Manga

Tojo Karen, who suddenly showed up to find us, started unloading her situation like a complaint.

To summarize: no matter how aggressively she’s been pursuing him, her one-sided crush, Sakamoto Ryuji, keeps acting indifferent.
Kishimoto, who had been listening while eating her kitsune udon, nodded and threw a heavy verbal fastball at Tojo Karen.
“Maybe it’s because he doesn’t see you as a girl?”

“What the hell did you just say?! Are you picking a fight with me?!”
“Calm down.”
I stopped Tojo Karen, who looked like she was about to swing before she spoke, with just one hand.

“Tch.”
Clicking her tongue, Tojo sat back down.
Regardless, Kishimoto moved one seat over with her udon bowl, avoiding her, and continued speaking—as if she had to get this off her chest—by pointing out Karen’s appearance.

“You say you want to look good for the guy you like, but there’s nothing in how you dress that shows that. First of all, how about taking off that tacky gym jacket?”
Kishimoto, in her serious mode as a former reader model, pointed out Tojo’s fashion bluntly. Tojo bit her lip in humiliation and removed the gym jacket she’d been wearing over her sailor uniform.
But the roasting didn’t stop there.

“Next—your face.”
“What?”
“What kind of skincare do you use?”

Tojo hesitated for a moment, then answered Kishimoto’s question.
“Well, I just apply toner and lotion after showering, then sunscreen or BB cream… that’s about it.”
Kishimoto narrowed her eyes and asked:

“Are you, like, an old man? No, actually, even old men these days use more than that. You’re an active high school girl—how do you not care about your looks at all?”
“Ugh.”
Tojo Karen clutched her chest, unable to say a word back in the face of the continuous, merciless roasting.
At this point, even I was starting to feel bad for her—but Kishimoto’s critiques weren’t over yet.

“Before you hope for someone else to like you, how about taking a good look at yourself first? You talk rough like a delinquent, you throw on clothes like you don’t care, and you walk around bare-faced expecting to win someone’s heart without any effort—that’s just shameless, don’t you think?”
“Guaaaaaaah!”
In the end, with a loud scream, she was utterly sunk.

On the other hand, Kishimoto, who had delivered a flurry of blunt remarks without pause, wiped her forehead with a satisfied look.
‘Yeah… in terms of verbal jabs, Rika’s definitely on top.’
Immediately after, Tojo Karen, now completely torn to pieces, asked with a desperate expression:

“Then what do I do now? Should I just give up on liking Sakamoto?”
“No, there’s no need for that.”
“…What?”

Tojo looked surprised and asked again. Kishimoto took her hand with the benevolence of a saint.
“If you haven’t taken care of yourself until now, then just start from now. Your base isn’t bad, so if you polish yourself just a little, you’ll become beautiful in no time.”
“…Me?”

Tojo Karen still looked doubtful, but Kishimoto beamed her usual bright smile and nodded.
“With the help of love-doctor Kishimoto Rika.”
“…Love-doctor…”

The moment that unexpected nickname came out of her mouth, I felt goosebumps shoot down my spine.
Kishimoto then raised two fingers.
“If I had to give Tojo-chan some advice, first, take care of your appearance. Second, cook a homemade meal for the person you like.”

“A homemade meal?”
“You know that saying—‘The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’”
“Ooooh…”

Unlike her initial hesitation, Tojo Karen was now completely converted, her face lit up with admiration.
“But I don’t know how to cook. I guess I’d have to start learning now too?”
Kishimoto giggled and wagged her index finger.

“Don’t worry about that! Ryu-chan here will teach you!”
…Excuse me?
I looked at Kishimoto with a shocked expression at her plan, which she’d made without my consent. But she just grinned shamelessly and said:

“Aren’t you going to meet my papa soon?”
And with that, my fate was sealed.
“…Of course I’ll help.”

Damn it.
***
The next day.

After school, we went to Tojo Karen’s house.
“Woooow~ It’s huge~”
“Hmph, this is nothing.”

Kishimoto, daughter of a famous manga artist and herself a rich girl, couldn’t even compare—Tojo Karen’s house was on a whole ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ other level.
It was, quite literally, a massive samurai-style mansion in the middle of the city.
As a black sedan drove into the estate, which looked to be at least several hundred pyeong in size, the waiting yakuza bowed in unison.

““Welcome home, Young Lady!””
“Yeah.”
When the chauffeur opened the door, Tojo Karen waved dismissively and walked slowly down the marble pathway.

Me and Kishimoto, who got out of the car behind her, were met with curious stares.
“Are those the Young Lady’s friends?”
“For a second, I thought they were assassins sent by a rival gang.”

“That guy’s got some good muscles on him.”
I pretended not to hear their murmurs and followed the small figure of Tojo.
The place she led us to was a spacious tatami-floored room.

There were hanging scrolls with orchid paintings, luxurious porcelain, baseball bats and gloves, and all sorts of exercise equipment scattered about—it was a very unbalanced room.
I glanced around and asked:
“Where are we?”

Tojo Karen set down her bookbag and replied:
“My room.”
Kishimoto gasped.

“This is your room, Tojo-chan?”
“Why, is there a problem?”
“No, it’s just… it’s not that different from Ryu-chan’s room I saw last time.”

“Tch.”
Apparently hit where it hurt, Tojo pouted.
“Anyway, that’s not what’s important right now.”

“Ah, right.”
Kishimoto clapped her hands and pulled out the paper bag she’d been carrying since we arrived.
“This is a present from me.”

“…A present?”
“I went to the cosmetics store yesterday and bought everything I thought you might need. I wrote down the basics on a note, so when you run out, you can use it as a shopping list.”
It was a gift she’d bought entirely out of pocket, for someone she’d only known for a few days.

After checking the contents of the bag, Tojo Karen looked at Kishimoto with a surprised face, scratched her cheek, and said:
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”

Kishimoto answered cheerfully with a bright smile.
***
“Alright, let’s start by learning how to use the cosmetics.”

“Got it.”
Following Kishimoto’s instruction, Tojo Karen flipped the paper bag over.
Rattle rattle!

Cosmetics and makeup tools spilled everywhere.
Kishimoto began explaining them one by one.
“This is toner, this is lotion, BB cream, foundation, powder, mascara, brow pencil…”

Just listening made me dizzy.
Tojo, who had hardly ever used makeup before, already looked dazed.
“W-Wait a second.”

“Hm? Do you want to ask something?”
“Could you maybe do a demonstration first? Just hearing it, I don’t understand what’s what.”
Kishimoto said, “Hm? It’s not that hard,” and set down the items in her hands.

“Do you have a big mirror in your room? It’s easier to explain while watching.”
“…Wait a bit. I’ll send a servant to bring one.”
Shaking her head with a sigh, Tojo Karen slid open the shoji doors and stepped out.

She probably wanted an excuse to get some fresh air anyway.
***
About ten minutes later, Tojo Karen returned to the room with a makeup vanity that had a mirror.

Kishimoto sat her directly in front of it and picked up her brush and pencil with a serious expression.
It looked exactly like a master artist estimating a block of marble before sculpting.
Time flew by.

Honestly, I still didn’t understand what half the tools were for—but just watching Tojo Karen’s face transform in real time made it clear that Kishimoto’s makeup skills were amazing.
After about thirty minutes of full makeup and hairstyling, Kishimoto stepped back with a satisfied smile.
“A masterpiece I gave my all for.”

And that wasn’t just flattery.
It was practically a complete transformation.
When permission was given to look, Tojo Karen hesitantly leaned toward the mirror and murmured in a dazed voice:

“…Kore ga watashi?”
No—wait! Stop auto-translating internally!
It was such a textbook cliché moment that I physically cringed without realizing.

My brain must be pickled in romantic comedy tropes.
“…This is me?”
Now the voice sounded normal again.

In the mirror, she blinked with moist brown eyes, enhanced by circle lenses.
Even without makeup, she had been pretty—but with it on, she looked just like a celestial maiden.
As she kept touching her own face in disbelief, Kishimoto watched her calmly and asked:

“Well? How does it feel to wear makeup for the first time in your life?”
“…I have no choice but to admit it. I knew nothing.”
“It’s fine. Just start fixing things one at a time. You still have plenty of time!”

Watching them from the side, their conversation felt just like a scene from a youth drama.
Smiling to myself as I crossed my arms and nodded approvingly—
Suddenly, the arrow turned my way.

“Alright! I’ve taught her how to do makeup, so now it’s Ryu-chan’s turn!”
Ah.