Grok is shit, seaart so-so.
***
Chapter 88: Then You Should Restrain Yourself!
A cozy family restaurant near Toyosaki Private Academy—
The place hadn't changed at all, except this time, a silver-haired beauty had joined the mix.
Kani Nayuta and Eriri Spencer Sawamura were seated side by side. One gold, one silver—two dazzling hair colors rarely seen in everyday life, catching the eye like characters straight out of a manga. Their hair shimmered under the soft restaurant lighting, and with faces so stunning it almost felt like cheating, the atmosphere of the establishment seemed to level up on its own.
Across from them sat a boy with neat, layered hair and finely sculpted features—none other than Kasumigaoka Touji himself—and next to him, a graceful black-haired girl, elegant and poised. Her hair was like cascading silk, her features sharp and cold, and her figure tall and... quite impressive.
But right now—
That black-haired beauty, Kasumigaoka Utaha, was glaring daggers across the table, arms folded tightly under her chest as she sat bolt upright. Her expression screamed 'ice queen in a bad mood.'
Beside her, Eriri Spencer Sawamura looked like a scolded puppy—her shoulders hunched, eyes darting everywhere but forward, a clear picture of guilt.
Kani Nayuta, meanwhile, cupped her teacup with both hands, eyes lowered slightly, though her silver brows twitched every now and then. Even she looked slightly unnerved.
A waiter watching from afar could only imagine the scene: 'A two-timing pretty boy caught red-handed by his main girlfriend while entertaining two gorgeous mistresses.'
Yup. Definitely looked like the setup to a juicy drama.
"Ahem… Eriri Spencer Sawamura-san," Touji finally broke the tension, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Take a look. If there's nothing wrong with the contract, please go ahead and sign and stamp it."
He figured there was no use trying to force a friendly atmosphere—may as well cut to the chase.
Finish the business, escape the battlefield—
He still had to get back later and prepare a big feast to win over Utaha-chan's stomach!
As he pulled out two copies of the contract, Eriri also reached into her schoolbag and took out a thick stack of manuscript paper. Without saying much, she passed them across the table.
"These are the character drafts I drew. Take a look."
They traded work like skilled professionals.
Kani Nayuta, her pale hands still clutching the teacup, leaned slightly forward, her sapphire eyes sparkling as she peeked at the papers.
Seeing her curiosity, Touji was thankful—maybe this would distract Utaha-chan for a bit. He gently draped an arm over her smooth, curvy shoulders and whispered softly:
"Let's look together, Utaha."
Utaha didn't respond verbally, but she did stop glaring at Eriri and shifted her eyes toward the drawings.
Victory!
Eriri, who had just started reading the contract, let out a tiny breath of relief.
'Seriously… I totally pissed her off just now…'
'But whatever. It's not like we were besties to begin with.'
Still, a small voice in the back of her mind reminded her—if Utaha spilled her secret identity, things could get complicated fast.
Her brows furrowed slightly. She couldn't relax.
Meanwhile, the group's attention turned toward the illustrations for Tokyo Ghoul.
First up—Kaneki Ken.
His regular human appearance, then his ghoul form with one kagugan eye. The design featuring his black mask inlaid with teeth, and finally, the Rinkaku form borrowed from Rize's kagune.
There were subtle differences compared to Touji's memory, but the core aesthetics were all there. And frankly—he was impressed.
"This is the main character, right? The masked version is super cool!"
Nayuta had set down her cup and was leaning in closer. Her generous chest lightly pressed against the oak table, the soft curve of her figure stealing glances even from the corner of Touji's eyes.
She pointed at the masked Kaneki, her tone brimming with excitement.
"The human version looks so plain—like a background character. But once he puts on the mask? Boom! Instant presence!"
"Those black-and-red eyes, the vibe—it's like he goes from nobody to nightmare fuel in one panel! It's awesome!"
She was genuinely moved by the design, and her praise flowed naturally.
Eriri, who was still flipping through the contract absentmindedly, perked up a little. Seeing someone sincerely appreciate her work lightened her mood.
She gave Nayuta a quick look, silently mouthing: 'You've got good taste.'
"Overall, this is really solid," Touji nodded in approval. "Excellent work… But uh, isn't this Rinkaku a little too… provocative?"
He gestured at the final image.
The Rinkaku depicted was long, thick, with textured patterns and—worst of all—glistening fluid clinging to it.
"…Is this a kagune or some kind of mature toy?"
"What!?"
Eriri snapped out of her trance, looked at the drawing, and frowned. "I drew it exactly according to your setting, Touji-kun!"
Now he was calling it inappropriate!?
"Heh~ As expected of a doujin artist. Your instincts are honed to perfection," Utaha-chan quipped with a smirk, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Her cold eyes glanced over the sketch with a knowing glint. "So shameless~."
"Wh-What do you mean by that!?" Eriri shot back, her face turning redder by the second.
Though guilt lingered in her eyes from earlier tensions, Eriri's pride as an artist flared up instantly when mocked—especially by a certain venom-tongued senpai.
Pointing her slender finger at Kasumigaoka Touji, she declared with righteousness only Eriri could muster:
"It's his fault! He said it should be 'like tentacles'! If the setting is already suggestive, what am I supposed to do!? I wanted to draw something more wholesome, but he went full tentacle on me, okay!?"
Kasumigaoka Touji sighed, facepalming.
"Yes, yes, I wrote it that way, but come on, Eriri-san… Do you even read the word 'like' before you start drawing?! Tentacle-esque doesn't mean go full hentai mode!"
He pulled a pen and notebook from his bag, flipping to a blank page like a teacher about to school a failing student.
"Look here. For instance, if you make the Rinkaku more blade-like—see?" he sketched quickly, drawing elongated, jagged lines. "Make it taper off from the base. Sharpen the edges. Less smooth, more… deadly. And these textures—change 'em to spikes or jagged plating, add some asymmetry. That'll kill the ero-vibes instantly."
He pushed the sketch forward with a smug grin. "Still erotic? I think not!"
Eriri leaned over, squinting at the drawing. Her mouth twitched.
Then her entire face flushed crimson.
"Ughhhh…!!" She covered her face with one hand, nearly sliding under the table.
'Crap! I did go full doujin mode again without realizing…'
She reached for her glass and took a long gulp of iced cola, the fizz battling the heat of her embarrassment.
"Eriri Spencer Sawamura," Kani Nayuta chimed in beside her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "This is definitely your fault, you can't run from this one."
Eriri glared at her with narrowed eyes.
'Et tu, Nayuta?! Whose side are you even on, huh!?'
"…Fine, fine! I'll fix it when I get home," she muttered in defeat, her voice low, like a punished child.
She peeked at Touji-kun, cheeks puffed.
"Ugh, how embarrassing…! A mistake like that? Seriously, my brain must be doujin-fried!"
She tilted her head back and chugged more cola like it was a magic potion for recovery.
Kasumigaoka Touji chuckled under his breath, satisfied. "Well, at least you're aware now."
He flipped to the next sheet.
"Ah, Ei's design. This one's solid. You really nailed it."
The bright-eyed, sunlit energy radiating from the character sketch was perfect.
Touji grinned. "That's Ei alright—my little angel!"
He set Ei's page aside and reached for the next, only to pause.
"...Hmm?"
He blinked, pointing at the illustration of Touka Kirishima.
"This chest is way too big," he said flatly.
"Eh?!" Eriri leaned in. "But that's how I imagined her…"
Touji shook his head.
"No, no, no. Touka has mid-length dark blue hair, slightly covers one eye, quiet, reserved, with a cool aloof vibe. Big boobs don't suit that. She should have a more modest chest—also, that overlaps with Rize, and they need contrast."
Utaha-chan, not one to let such a moment pass, rested her cheek on her palm and deadpanned:
"Some people often crave things they don't have and unconsciously draw wish-fulfillment into their characters."
CRITICAL HIT.
"Guh…!"
Eriri physically flinched. The damage was real.
"What the heck is that supposed to mean, you sadist!?"
She snapped up, flushed, pointing at Utaha-chan like she'd just been betrayed.
The sudden commotion turned heads in the family restaurant.
Touji jumped up, hands outstretched in panic.
"Oi oi, calm down! We're in public!" he hissed, bowing slightly in apology to surrounding tables.
Utaha-chan, unbothered as always, tapped her chin.
"Ah, I suppose I'm just too honest. If I've offended you… please become a quieter beautiful girl, Sawamura-san."
"Stop provoking her, Utaha-chan!" Touji groaned.
He swiftly grabbed a spoon, scooping some coffee jelly with whipped cream and holding it up to her.
"Here, open up. Sweet things for sweet girls~"
"Mou~ Stop treating me like a child," she muttered but opened her mouth anyway.
Meanwhile, Kani Nayuta dabbed her hands with a warm towel, then, with a gentle smile, picked up a piece of chicken popcorn and held it to Eriri's lips.
"Here. Protein helps you recover from humiliation faster."
"…Thanks," Eriri mumbled, accepting the offering with a pout.
Touji gave Nayuta a thumbs up.
Nayuta returned a wink.
In that small, chaotic corner of the restaurant, under the warm, golden lighting, despite the earlier sparks and clash of personalities, the mismatched group had somehow found a temporary harmony.
For now.
… …
"Anyway, make Touka's chest smaller," Touji said firmly, resuming the critique. "Around a B-cup should be fine."
Having successfully pacified Utaha-chan with the sacred offering of coffee jelly, Touji decided to use her momentary silence to his advantage.
Eriri, now chewing with slightly puffed cheeks like a small, annoyed chipmunk, paused at his comment.
"...Alright then," she replied after swallowing. Though still miffed, she mulled over his point and realized it wasn't completely off. A smaller bust would better suit Touka's reserved, cool-girl aura. With a defeated sigh, she jotted the note down on the manuscript paper.
"...…"
The group continued reviewing the character designs. Next up: Rize Kamishiro.
A key character despite her early exit from the story, Rize's presence loomed heavily over the narrative like a beautiful ghost.
Touji scanned the design Eriri handed over and instantly froze.
'...This is just wrong!'
The Rize he envisioned was mature and mysterious—long, violet hair styled in a graceful housewife bun, crimson half-rim glasses that hinted at intellect, a pure-white knee-length dress, and a classy elegance with a touch of menace. The kind of woman who could walk through a library or a crime scene with the same calm expression.
But what Eriri drew… was a full-on bombshell straight out of a late-night ecchi anime.
Low-cut V-neck mini dress? Check.
Heels so sharp they could kill? Check.
Overflowing cleavage, seductive eyes, and a skirt slit that practically screamed "peek here"?
Double check.
Touji's mouth twitched. He rubbed his temples.
"This image… isn't quite right, is it?" he asked with a strained tone.
Even the art style felt suspiciously glossy, dangerously close to an R-18 vibe.
"Once a doujin artist, always a doujin artist," Utaha-chan commented coldly, aiming another clean shot right at Eriri's pride.
Eriri glared daggers at her but didn't take the bait this time. Instead, she turned to Touji with a long sigh.
"I know. I did it on purpose."
Touji blinked. "You did?"
Eriri placed both hands flat on the oak table, leaning in as her voice dropped slightly.
"I think... appropriate fanservice might help us expand the reader base. There's always a market for a little ecchi. It makes the visuals pop, and in the sea of manga out there, we need something that stands out."
Touji fell into a brief silence.
He wasn't exactly a purist. He didn't think the work needed to follow the source material word-for-word, especially not in this new world.
And what she said wasn't wrong.
"...Alright, let's go with your version," he said after a moment. "I'll tweak the story to fit your art style and send the updates later."
Eriri looked slightly stunned, as if she hadn't expected that level of trust.
"However!" Touji added quickly, leaning forward with furrowed brows. "You have to show restraint, Sawamura-san! Just a little ecchi. Not full-on 'can't publish this' territory, okay!?"
"What do you mean!? Baka Touji! Are you saying I can't control myself!?"
Her twin drills bobbed furiously as she pouted, flustered and slightly pink-cheeked.
Kani Nayuta nodded solemnly. "He's right. You really need to restrain yourself, Eri-chan. If this were a review board test, you'd fail before page one."
"Oiii! Don't act like you're my wife scolding me in front of our child!"
Eriri was rapidly approaching max fluster. If she were a game character, her embarrassment meter would be flashing red.
The group chuckled lightly, the tension slowly easing.
They moved on to the remaining character designs.
Overall, they were solid. Touji offered feedback here and there—tweaks in posture, adjustments in proportions, slight changes in expressions. Nothing too major, but enough to elevate the characters.
Eriri, after the earlier roasting, listened attentively. As long as the feedback didn't cross her bottom line, she accepted it with a grudging nod and noted the revisions.
Once the character designs were finalized, Eriri neatly collected the manuscript pages, then turned her attention to the contract.
She flipped through it carefully, skimming each clause like a seasoned pro. Once satisfied, she signed her name in flowing strokes and stamped her seal.
Touji did the same, and the two exchanged copies. Their creative pact was now officially sealed.
The four of them exited the family restaurant together, stepping out into the soft, amber glow of the setting sun.
Their footsteps echoed softly on the pavement as they went their separate ways.
A new story had begun. Not just the manga—but something else. Something far more complicated.
…