Saturday, Tokyo
After packing his bag, Haruki finally scrolled through his contacts and stopped on Kotone's name. For a moment, he hesitated, thumb hovering over the call button. They hadn't spoken much in two years, maybe four or five times, always short. Still, he pressed.
"Hello," Kotone's voice came through, calm and steady. "It's been a while since you called. How have you been?"
"…Fine," Haruki said, the word catching in his throat. "And you?"
"I'm fine too."
Silence followed, just long enough for the air between them to feel heavy.
Haruki shifted the phone in his hand. "I'm coming to LA. For the convention."
On the other end, Kotone didn't answer immediately. When she did, her tone carried a faint warmth, even a touch of amusement.
"You're really coming here? I thought you'd never leave Japan."
Haruki exhaled a small laugh. "Two years ago, that was true. I've changed. I thought… maybe you could give me a tour of LA."
"Oh, so you called just to make me your tour guide? Not to meet a friend?"
Her playful jab left him fumbling. "No, I mean… we can meet too. Both."
Kotone chuckled softly. "Good to know you haven't completely changed. Still awkward as ever. Can't wait for you to get here."
The tension broke. They slipped into easier talk, bits about the convention, mutual acquaintances, nothing too deep. When the call ended, Haruki sat staring at his phone a moment longer, unsettled but oddly lighter.
Los Angeles
Kotone hung up her call with Haruki and set the phone down, the screen still glowing faintly in the dark. Two years had passed since she'd come here on the exchange program, but sometimes it still felt new.
Back then, when she moved into the dorms and opened the door to her room, a tall, blonde girl looked up and smiled.
"Hey! You must be my roommate," she said, voice bright and fast. "I'm Emily. Where are you from?"
"Japan. Osaka," Kotone replied with a polite bow she immediately realized was out of place. Emily only laughed.
"Cool. Welcome to LA. What's your major?"
"Computer science," Kotone replied simply.
That was how it began.
From that moment on, Emily was always buzzing around, asking questions, pulling Kotone into late-night ramen runs, introducing her to friends in her department, even trying to set her up at parties. Kotone went along sometimes, but mostly she preferred sketching at her desk after class.
Classes themselves were manageable. She was sharp, and her English was strong enough to keep up. Between assignments, what stood out most was how different the art culture felt. Here, comics weren't just black-and-white panels; they were drenched in color, bold palettes, glowing highlights.
Kotone decided to practice by filling her sketchbook with studies, experimenting with her brushes and layering tones until the pages almost looked alive. Her lines had always been clean, but she pushed further, exploring how color could shift a mood.
Emily often hovered nearby, watching her draw.
"Seriously, how are you this good? And you're not even majoring in art. Weren't your parents expecting something like engineering?"
Kotone gave a faint smile. "Actually, I worked as an assistant to a mangaka back in Japan."
Emily whistled. "That makes sense. But still… your work looks professional. I bet people would want to publish it even if the story wasn't good."
Kotone only nodded.
As the months passed, her sketches began turned into something more. She dug out the old notebook she'd brought from Osaka, a draft she had called Violet Evergarden. At first, she redrew rough character sketches, then tightened the designs, and finally began testing panels.
When she finally finished a full volume, she felt satisfied. It had turned out better than she expected. The next step was clear: show it to Emily, get her reaction, then prepare it for review.
That evening, Emily bounded in with her usual energy, tossing her bag onto the bed. Before she could launch into another story, Kotone handed her the manuscript.
"Emily, try reading this. Tell me what you think."
Emily's brows shot up. "Wait, this is what you've been hiding? Finally." She pulled it into her lap, brushing her hair back before flipping to the first page.
The title stood: Violet Evergarden.
Emily fell quiet as she read. The first panel showed a blonde girl clutching a green pendant, whispering that it looked like her major's eyes.
Then the scene shifted. Violet lay in a hospital bed, her arms replaced by gleaming metal prosthetics. The expression drawn on her face—fragile, almost empty.
Her eyes moved slower over the panels. Captain Hodgins appeared, calm but firm, answering Violet's repeated questions about Major Gilbert. Emily muttered under her breath, "…She looks so lost."
Page after page, she followed. Violet was offered a home by the Evergarden family and turned it down, her blank stare holding more weight than words. When Hodgins placed her in the post office, the panels showed Violet sorting envelopes with mechanical hands.
Not long after, a tall, blond delivery man named Benedict appeared. With a teasing smirk, he challenged Violet's silent determination when she asked if she could deliver letters herself. Without words, she accepted, stepping out into the streets with letters clutched in her gloved hands.
The pages shifted into wide panels of Violet walking unfamiliar roads, the evening sun stretching long shadows behind her. Emily's thumb paused at the corner of one page, eyes tracing the light and colors. "…This is beautiful," she whispered.
By the time dusk deepened to night, Violet was still delivering under the glow of lonely street lamps. When Hodgins appeared again, watching her work and speaking in quiet determination, she slowed her reading until she barely moved the page.
"Since I've taken you under my care, I want you to see more of the world. I know the life you've lived, you're covered in burn marks. One day, you'll understand what that means."
Shout out to Nguyễn Trung Hiếu, Kyle, Krill-gill for joining my p-atreon! your support means everything to me.
(TL:- if you want even more content, check out p-a-t-r-e-o-n.com/Alioth23 for 60+ advanced chapters)