The email came on a rainy Tuesday afternoon.

Rika Saionji had been staring at her inbox for about an hour, pretending to work and secretly refreshing the page from time to time.

This day was crucial for her.

Three weeks ago, she sent her first one-shot manga to a well-known publishing company.

It was not perfect.

She knew it.

But it was hers.

Every page of it was created with sleepless nights, dozens of cups of coffee, and endless eraser strokes.

She clasped her hands together.

"Please..."

"Even if it’s just a little..."

"I hope they liked it."

A delicate notification sounded from her laptop.

Her heart skipped.

"It’s here..."

Trembling her fingers, she clicked the email.

She read the first sentence.

Then the second.

Her smile faded away.

«Thank you for your submission. After careful consideration, we decided not to move further with publication of it. We would like to encourage you to develop your writing skills. We are looking forward to seeing your next submissions.»

That was all.

No sharp criticism.

No insults.

Just...

Polite refusal.

---

For quite some time, Rika did not move.

Rain continued tapping against the window of her apartment.

Around her were unfinished sketches.

The room seemed unusually silent.

"So..."

She forced herself to laugh.

"...I got rejected."

Speaking it loud made everything more realistic.

She looked toward the manuscript pages lying on her desk.

Weeks of work.

Summarized by the single email.

---

That evening, Kuro received a message.

Rika: Are you free?

He responded quickly.

Kuro: At the cafe?

Few seconds later...

Rika: Yeah.

---

When Kuro arrived at the meeting point, Rika was already sitting in their usual corner.

On the table were two untouched drinks.

She was not drawing.

It was unusual.

He took a seat.

"...How did it go?"

Rika pushed her phone towards him.

He read the email.

Then put the phone back.

Both of them remained silent for some time.

Eventually, Rika smiled weakly.

"I guess my debut will last three weeks."

Kuro shook his head.

"No."

"It hasn’t begun yet."

She looked at him.

"I got rejected."

"You got one manuscript rejected."

"That’s different."

---

She leaned her forehead on the table.

"I kept imagining that I get accepted."

"I was even imagining how my first published volume looks."

She laughed sarcastically.

"I was making plans about things that do not exist."

Kuro listened without interrupting.

She continued speaking.

Telling about her hopes.

Expectations.

Disappointment.

All frustrations she held inside quietly poured out.

He did not try to stop her.

---

When she finally ended...

Kuro asked only one question.

"Can I read it again?"

She blinked.

"...Again?"

"I want to read it again, but slowly."

Without any words, she passed the manuscript to him.

---

The cafe was gradually emptying.

Outside, rain continued pouring.

Kuro was carefully turning the pages.

His face did not change.

He was not looking for mistakes.

He was trying to understand the story.

Nearly forty minutes passed.

Finally, he closed the last page.

"I guess I understand why."

Rika prepared for the worse.

"...Tell me."

"I don’t think the publisher rejected your drawings."

"They rejected your ending."

She frowned.

"My ending?"

Kuro nodded.

"The beginning is amazing."

"The characters feel alive."

"But..."

He gently tapped the last few pages.

"You hurried up with the most important conversation."

Rika looked down.

"...I did?"

"You spent forty pages showing us who are the characters."

"Then gave them only three pages to change."

Quietly rereading the ending, she understood that he was right.

"I..."

"I had to finish it before the deadline."

Kuro smiled gently.

"I know."

---

That night, they went out from the cafe together.

Instead of saying goodbye...

Kuro stopped walking.

"Let’s make a deal."

Rika raised her eyebrow.

"What kind of deal?"

"You continue drawing."

"I’ll continue reading."

She smiled faintly.

"That’s it?"

"That’s enough."

---

Since that day, new routine started quietly.

Every Friday evening...

They met at the cafe.

Rika came with her latest draft.

Kuro brought his notebook.

He never rewrote her stories.

Never told her what to draw.

Instead...

He asked questions.

"What is this character afraid of?"

"What should this scene make the reader feel?"

"Why is she smiling here instead of speaking?"

Sometimes Rika instantly gave answers.

Sometimes...

She sat in silence for several minutes and suddenly shouted:

"I’ve got it!"

Customers gradually got used to it.

---

Weeks transformed into months.

The manuscript gradually transformed.

Chapters were totally redone.

Characters became deeper.

Dialogue sounded more naturally.

Scenes got more emotionally deep.

With each revision, the story became closer to what Rika imagined from the very beginning.

---

Once evening, she put the Version Seven of the manuscript on the table.

Kuro looked surprised.

"Seven?"

"I stopped counting after five."

He laughed.

"So did I."

After reading the final page, he closed the manuscript.

"This is different."

Rika leant forward.

"...Good different?"

He smiled.

"The ending now breathes."

She looked at him, confused.

"What does it mean?"

"It does not hurry."

"It trusts the reader."

Staring at him for several seconds, she suddenly smiled.

"I finally like my story."

Kuro nodded.

"I noticed."

---

As they left the cafe that night, cherry blossoms quietly flew in the evening air.

Rika stopped on the familiar bridge over the river.

She looked toward the flowing river.

"You know..."

"I almost quit."

Kuro was standing close to her.

"I know."

"If you hadn’t listened that day..."

"I might never draw another page."

He shook his head.

"You made this decision."

"I only stayed with you."

Rika smiled.

"That’s exactly why."

Looking at him with determination, she said:

"I’m going to submit it again."

"And if they will reject it?"

Kuro asked.

She laughed.

"I’ll draw another one."

"And another."

"And another."

"Until somebody accepts."

Kuro stretched out his hand.

"Then we will keep chasing our dreams."

Rika looked at his hand and smiled brightly.

Shaking it firmly, she said:

"Deal."

Under the light of the city lights, two university students stood side by side.

One carried psychology books.

The other carried the rejected manuscript.

Neither knew what awaits them in the future.

But both understood one thing.

Dreams were not measured by failures.

They were measured by the ability to start over again.

The next Saturday afternoon, Kuro was earlier than Rika at the cafe.

He opened a book on psychology and was going to read notes until her arrival.

After twenty minutes, the door suddenly burst open.

"Kuro!"

A few people from other tables raised their heads.

"...Sorry," she mumbled quickly and rushed to the table, carrying a bag which seemed to be unusually heavy.

Kuro looked at it and asked:

"...Books?"

She proudly shook her head:

"Version Eight."

Kuro blinked:

"You’ve already finished a new revision?"

"I barely slept."

"You should rest."

"After I become a famous manga artist."

"No, I don’t think you should work like this."

She smiled and put a thick stack of manuscript sheets on the table.

"I could not stop thinking about what you said."

"’The ending finally breathes.’"

"So I decided to check everything again."

"And then..."

"I accidentally rewrote a half of the story."

Kuro smiled:

"Accidentally?"

"...Maybe, intentionally."

---

He started reading it.

As always, Rika was watching him and trying to catch every change in his facial expression.

During the last few months she had noticed something.

Kuro wasn’t expressive while reading.

If he smiles...

It means a joke works really well.

If he stops...

It means he was touched by something.

If he turns back and reads some page again...

Usually, it means she managed to catch the desired emotion.

Now...

He stopped reading on page twenty-three.

Then looked at it and silently read it once again.

Rika’s heart started beating faster:

"...Is something wrong?"

He raised his head:

"No."

He pointed to the page:

"This scene."

"The younger sister does not say ’thank you.’"

Rika nodded:

"She does not need to."

He smiled:

"Yes."

"Silence speaks louder."

Rika could not stop smiling.

That is exactly what she hoped someone would notice.

---

At the end of the manuscript, Kuro carefully put it on the table.

Neither of them said anything for some minutes.

At last, Kuro looked at her and said:

"...You’ve grown."

Rika blinked:

"As an artist."

"Your drawings look better."

"However..."

He pointed to the manuscript:

"You trust your readers now."

"You don’t explain all the emotions to them."

"You let them feel the emotions themselves."

Rika looked down.

It is much more significant to hear such words than the praises from her professors.

Because he saw every single version.

Each mistake.

Each page that she wanted to burn.

He watched how she improved her manga step by step.

---

She carefully put the manuscript into a neat pile and said:

"This one..."

She whispered:

"I’m going to submit tomorrow."

Kuro nodded:

"I think you’re ready now."

She smiled:

"Even if they reject it again..."

"I don’t think that I will give up now."

"What changed?"

Rika looked out the window and watched how students rush by under blossoming cherry trees.

"I understood something."

"My dream is not to publish a manga."

"My dream is to create a story."

"If I give up because of one rejection..."

"Then it probably means that my dream wasn’t right."

Kuro smiled:

"I couldn’t say it better."

Rika laughed:

"That is because I borrowed your wisdom for a few months."

He smiled:

"I just ask questions."

"And somehow..."

She got up and threw a bag over her shoulder:

"...these questions lead me to the right answer."

The afternoon sun shined warmly into the cafe.

Going out to the street, Rika tightly held the manuscript in her hands.

It was still just paper.

Still only ink.

Still only a story.

However, unlike the first manuscript that she submitted...

This one had something else.

Not perfection.

Confidence.

And as Kuro went along with her towards the station, he quietly understood that sometimes...

Dreams do not require anyone to push them forward.

Sometimes...

They only require someone who reads every single draft until the dreamer learns to believe in his/her own story.