Chapter 3: The Will to Draw
"Sawamura-san, I have a request…"
"I want to draw. Can you buy me a manga manuscript notebook and a pencil?"
Lucien D. Blackthorn's eyes were full of desperate sincerity as he looked at Eriri.
He knew that if he wanted to survive—if he wanted to gain more time—he had to draw. He had to publish.
Right now, the only person he could rely on was Eriri.
Lucien also remembered her secret.
Though she appeared to be just a high school girl, she was, in fact, a famous doujinshi artist known by the pen name Kashiwagi Eriri, highly regarded in manga circles.
With someone this talented and experienced by his side, Lucien believed his chances of success—and survival—would be far greater.
Eriri was momentarily stunned by his request.
But as a fellow creator, she understood immediately.
Every true artist has an obsession—a need—to bring their imagination to life. Lucien's request to draw, even from his hospital bed, wasn't something strange to her.
After a pause, she was about to agree.
But before she could speak, the attending physician behind her interjected, his voice sharp with concern.
"No. Absolutely not. You need rest. Do you even understand what your body is going through right now?"
He stopped mid-sentence, clearly restraining himself, his face full of concern and frustration.
Lucien understood. The doctor wasn't wrong—he was trying to protect him.
But resting wouldn't save him.
Only drawing would.
"Doctor…" Lucien said weakly, turning his gaze to him. "I know I don't have much time. But this… this is the only thing I'm asking. Please understand…"
The room went silent. Even the ticking of the wall clock sounded louder in the stillness.
The doctor didn't respond.
The air was thick with tension and emotion.
Then, suddenly—
"Okay! Wait here!"
Eriri's voice sliced through the silence. Without waiting for a response, she turned and dashed out of the emergency room like a gust of wind.
Lucien watched her go. A warmth surged in his chest.
She really went.
But then—
A searing pain coursed through his body, crashing over him like a tidal wave. The world spun, his vision blurred, and once again… he blacked out.
---
Eriri sprinted out of the hospital.
Her chest was tight with emotion, and her legs barely felt the ground beneath them. After a frantic search, she finally spotted a small stationery store nearby.
"Excuse me! I need a manga manuscript pad and a mechanical pencil!"
Without waiting for a total, she threw a 2,000 yen note on the counter, grabbed what she needed, and rushed out.
Back at the hospital, she returned to find the emergency room door shut again.
Above the door, red letters glowed: EMERGENCY IN PROGRESS.
Her heart skipped a beat.
She began pacing restlessly, eyes locked on the door.
Minutes dragged by.
Finally, after what felt like forever, a young female nurse stepped out.
Eriri rushed over. "Excuse me, how is he?"
The nurse gave a soft sigh. "His condition is unstable. He suddenly fell into a coma again. The doctors are doing everything they can."
Hearing this, Eriri's grip tightened on the notebook and pencil she had just bought.
She bit her lip, barely able to hide the storm of emotion rising inside her.
Seeing her so distressed, the nurse softened. "Please don't worry. We're trying our best."
Eriri nodded silently.
The nurse looked at her with a faint smile and said something in a gentle voice:
"Even if he survives this round… he doesn't have much time left."
"Little sister, please be mentally prepared. Be there for him… let him spend what time he has left with someone who cares."
"In his final moments, having someone beside him means more than any medicine."
Despite her professional demeanor, the nurse's voice trembled slightly.
Eriri blinked, stunned by the nurse's words.
They misunderstood.
She and Lucien weren't lovers. In fact, they barely knew each other.
But it wasn't hard to see how such a misunderstanding could arise. In Japan, high school romances weren't uncommon. And given Lucien and Eriri's striking appearances, it wouldn't be strange to assume they were close.
She wanted to clarify, but just as she opened her mouth to explain, the emergency room door opened again.
The attending physician stepped out and spotted her.
"The patient is stable for now," he said with a tired smile. "You don't have to worry."
"Can I see him?" Eriri asked quickly. "I brought the pen and notebook he wanted."
The doctor shook his head gently. "He's sleeping. Best not to disturb him tonight. Come back tomorrow."
Before Eriri could respond, the nurse beside her offered, "Leave it with me. I'll give it to him when he wakes up."
"…Thank you," Eriri murmured.
She handed over the items and gave one last look through the emergency room's glass window before slowly turning to leave.
As she walked away from the hospital, the weight in her heart grew heavier. Lucien's pale, fragile appearance haunted her.
---
Late that night, the emergency room remained dimly lit.
Lucien slowly opened his eyes.
The cold air was sharp against his skin, the scent of antiseptic still clinging to the room. Beeping monitors and flickering machines surrounded him.
A nurse doing rounds walked in, surprised to see him awake.
"Oh—you're up. I'll inform the doctor."
She turned to leave, then paused, remembering something.
She stepped back toward him and placed a notebook and pencil beside his bed.
"Your girlfriend brought these. She said she'll come see you again tomorrow."
And with that, she left the room.
Lucien blinked.
"Girlfriend…?" he murmured, confused.
He stared at the notebook, a tiny smile forming on his lips despite the pain.
"…No, she's not. But… thanks, Eriri."