HeungSoo I AU I Can we start over again part 01/02 by harukno89

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2019 Namsoon

I wait patiently in my seat for Mr. Tanaka my anime instructor. He is talking to some students who stayed behind to consult with him. Again, my heart is racing. One cannot get two great news in one day, can they? I mean this is me, Go Namsoon, the king of screw-ups. I pull out my phone and text KangJoo. I hope to chat with her and calm my nerves.

A few minutes later, Mr. Tanaka, calls out to me.

"Mr. Namsoon Go, please move forward, I need to speak with you."

"Yes, sir." I walk to his desk, wondering what he has to tell me.

"You spoke with Mr. Miyagi, I presume."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I have some information for you. I know your first love is manga," he smiles, "but my producer also loves your storyboard and want to do an anime movie of the story."

"Fuck me!" I yell.

"Excuse me?" Mr. Tanaka says.

"I'm sorry sir but this is just overwhelming. A possible publishing deal and an anime production of the same story? I didn't think anyone will be interested in stories with gay and lesbian characters."

"There's interest believe me," he says. "To continue, he is interested but it'll be based on the result of your manga sales."

"Oh. I see," my excitement just took a nosedive. Talk about bursting my bubble.

"I know it's not what you expected but it is good news. When your work is sent to the Korea affiliate, I'm sure they'll do all they can to publicize your work. They put a lot of value in works recommended by Japanese editors. I know you'll do well, so don't be disappointed. This is a rare opportunity. We teachers and artists don't refer student's work that often. I can't remember the last time we did. The fact that two of us are impressed enough to show your work to our respective editor and producer means we believe in you."

"Thank you, sir," I say feeling better. "I promise to make this story perfect."

"I'm sure you will. I gave your contact information to my producer, and I'll text you his information too. Miyagi's editor will keep him informed on how your book is doing."

"They know each other?" I don't know if that's good or bad at this point.

"Of course, manga and anime industries are small and interchangeable. We know each other very well."

"Thank you very much, sir" I shake his hand vigorously.

"You're welcome Namsoon Go. I'll see you later."

I leave and call KangJoo brimming with excitement again. We plan to celebrate when school ends in a week. Time to get back to work.

                                        ― ☾ ―

"KangJoo I thought we were spending my last day in Tokyo relaxing," I whine.

"There's one place I want to take you and it's about an hour and forty minutes by train."

"Misaki help me, please," I pull on Misaki's arm, towards the chair in their living room, and sit down with her.

"I wish I can, but you made the mistake of agreeing to everything she planned. What were you thinking?"

"In my defense, I was on a high about my storyboard and just went along with her. Who tries to visit every tourist attraction in Japan in just six days? Tokyo maybe but all of Japan?"

This is my last day in Tokyo and I leave for Seoul tomorrow. That has not stopped KangJoo from dragging me to every area of Japan that I must see or so she says.

"KangJoo I'm tired" I yell at her. "Let's save a little for my next visit, okay?"

She turns to me and gives me one of her stares that looks deep into your soul.

"You promise to visit me again, no matter what?"

"I promise."

"Okay then, just one more place that I know you'll like then dinner and then home. It's a surprise. You'll love it."

"Believe me you will. Even I don't know how she managed to set this up." Misaki adds smiling.

"Okay since Misaki says so, I'm all yours. Take me to your leader," I joke.

We take Uber to the train station and get on a train to Nagoya, a city about 160 miles from Tokyo. The bullet train gets us there in no time. Uber driver is waiting for us outside the station. We get in and Misaki gives him the address. Neither KangJoo nor Misaki has given any hint of where or what my last tourist attraction is.

"Okay, we're almost there," Misaki tells us.

I look around and the area is quaint. There are not a lot of houses on the road. No high rise or modern-day intrusion in this area. The car continues down a one-lane road. I double-check my seatbelt because I don't know what we'll do if another car barrels down on us.

"We're here," the driver tells us.

We get out and arrange for the driver to return and take us back to the station in six hours.

"Six hours?" I ask looking around me wondering what on earth will entertain us for six hours in this 'village'.

KangJoo smiles, grabs my hand, and pulls me towards a one-story building. Behind it is another smaller building. We walk up to the smaller one and she knocks on the door panel. She rocks back and forth on her heels with a goofy grin on her face. She's up to something I just know it. A man in his sixties opens the door, smiles when he sees KangJoo.

"KangJoo kun, Misaki kun," the man greets them.

"Toriyama sama," they both bow in respect.

"This is my friend, Go Namsoon that I told you about Yamada san," KungJoo says.

"Namsoon kun, hello."

"Hello, sir, I mean, Toriyama sama."

"Sir is fine. Welcome. Come in, come in, relax for a minute before our tour."

Tour? I look around the room we entered and it's just a simple sitting room. Nothing memorable to look at, nevertheless I sit down. He offers us some water, sits down and chats with the other two while I continue to wonder why we are here.

"Are you ready? Toriyama sama asks us.

"Yes, we are," KangJoo replies, still giddy with excitement.

I shrug my shoulders, ready for whatever the plan is.

Toriyama sama leads the way to the bigger house. He enters a code in the security lock and opens the door. We remove our shoes and he waves us to the first room on my right. I enter the room and I stop.

On the wall directly in front of me is a live size manga. It is not like any manga that we draw nowadays. It looks old. There no words on the paper just drawing telling a story. I look down and a note on the bottom says this is the first official manga in Japan's history from the twelfth century. It is just one page and it looks amazing. I walk slowly towards the drawing, afraid to breathe in case my hurried breaths stain the drawing. I don't know how long I stood there just looking and imagining the artist who put this on paper.

"There's more to see," KangJoo whispers in my ear.

She pulls my arm and I meekly follow her.

"This house was built to store the original mangas from the twelfth century, up till the nineteenth. This was commissioned by the older artists from the mid-twentieth century. They got together and built this house to serve as a museum where we protect and preserve mangas of old. The newer manga versions are already saved on modern electronics but these ones are on paper, so rare and delicate that housing them, safeguarding them away from the masses was paramount," Toriyama sama tells us.

He continues, "as you will see, each room is dedicated to each century from the twelfth till the nineteenth. As a manga artist yourself, you will see the progression of the drawings and the story particular to that era. Go ahead," he nods and I walk into the next century: the thirteenth.

Again, the brush strokes, the delicacy, the stories are riveting. I itch to run my fingers down each line. But I refrain myself. Even I know the need to keep my hands off these priceless treasures. I make my way slowly and deliberately through different centuries. I notice how the drawings, styles, and presentation change throughout the years. As the centuries go by, the books go from one-page drawings to several pages. And they are all marvelous. Priceless.

Manga is so ingrained in Japanese culture that one cannot walk in Tokyo and not see the latest stories and characters drawn all over the place. But these are different. They are not perfected with state-of-the-art pens, pencils, and whatnots. These mangas secured safely away from the masses are intricately drawn.

I immersed myself in these stories. Toriyama sama did a wonderful job of telling me about the artist and how they lived their lives. Their stories lent an authenticity to the mangas. Some were funny, sad, and ahead of their time. Whoever said history repeats itself wasn't lying. Even though they were all black and white, the drawings are vibrant.

A car horn outside alerted us to the return of our Uber driver. Damn the time flew by so fast.

"We must go Namsoon," KangJoo tells me.

I reluctantly get up.

"Thank you so much Toriyama sama," I bow deeply in gratitude.

"You're welcome Namsoon kun." He walks us out and locks the door. We all enter the car and he bends down and says, "good luck with your work. I like them."

"You've seen my work?" I reply, wondering how?

He smiles and nods. He hands an envelope to KangJoo and waves us off.

"Thank you so much KangJoo. This is the best present anyone has ever given me."

"You're welcome."

"Toriyama sama looks familiar though, I wonder where I've seen him before."

"Here. This might jog your memory," and she gives me the envelope.

Inside is a rare edition of one of my favorite mangas. They say this particular manga paved the way for other mangas in the late twentieth century. And it is signed by Toriyama sama. And then it clicked! Toriyama sama is considered the father of modern-day manga.

"OH.MY.FUCKING.GOD!!!!!!! I was in the same room as..."

"Yes, you were."

"Why didn't you tell me, you asshole? He said he liked my work. He fucking liked my work KangJoo."

"I heard. I was there."

I carefully put my signed manga back in the envelope. I had nothing to say on our ride to the station and even our train ride back to Tokyo. Words cannot describe today or my gratitude to KangJoo and Misaki. We arrive at the apartment and I hug both of them tightly and went to bed.

Sleep is impossible. One other person would've loved today and meeting Toriyama sama as much as I did; HeungSoo.

                                        ― ☾ ―

The flight back to Seoul was just as great as the one to Japan. I am now a seasoned traveler after just one flight. We land in Seoul and I take a taxi home. I called Ajumma to let her know I was back. I also spoke to my father to see how he's doing.

I drag my tired ass into my home, cooked some ramen, ate, showered, and got ready for bed. I'll call my work tomorrow and ask them to put me back on the roster in two days. Time to get back into the swing of things.

I turn the light off and my cell phone's voicemail blinking light caught my attention. It's probably KangJoo checking up on me. I dial my voice mail and my heart stopped. I heard the message. I heard his voice for the first time in six years.

I can't stop replaying the message; "Go Namsoon, this is Park HeungSoo. Teacher Jung wants me to tell you that Teacher Jo Boon-Soo died. She will like all of us to attend his funeral. I don't know if this is your number or not, but I will send the funeral information to you. Please tell Lee KangJoo too."

Only HeungSoo will leave a message on my voicemail as if we talk to each other every day.

And what's up with his voice, sounds different and so American?