Eiji and Iwase had interesting interactions, in my opinion. I wish the manga had further developed their relationship, but I guess Bakuman wanted to focus on other things.

Thank you for reading.

Part 1

She started coming over to his apartment every night, after his assistants left, ostensibly for the purpose of discussing +Natural with him. If her visits carried any other motives – and she wasn't saying that they did – then she was sure he wouldn't notice. Eiji Nizuma's whole world consisted of pens and plot lines and panels, of dynamic battles and fancy names for flashy moves, of characters with their cool clothes and large stylized eyes. His mind was so deeply entrenched in manga, he was oblivious to reality. At least, that's what Iwase believed at first.

It came as a total surprise when Nizuma made that off-the-cuff remark one night. He was sitting at his desk, his pen gliding across paper, while she stood a respectful distance behind him. She watched his hand move in the yellow light of his desk lamp. There was nothing unusual about that evening, nothing to foreshadow what he was about to say. He simply spoke out of the blue, not even turning around to face her. "You know, it's dangerous for a woman to be alone with a man in his apartment at night."

He put her in a state of disbelief. Not because of the warning itself. She knew he wasn't dangerous to her or to anyone; the very thought was laughable. She was more disconcerted by the level of awareness needed to make that remark, an awareness that she previously didn't know he possessed.

She didn't reply to his comment. He didn't say any more. The night fell back into silence.

She continued her visits, albeit a little more warily, now that she knew he was capable of reading into them. There was a voice in her mind that kept telling her to wise up and stop spending so much time with him, lest he begin to suspect her feelings. She argued with this voice, telling herself it would be absurd to avoid him. Isn't it normal for collaborators to meet and discuss their work?

Her thoughts were still battling each other as she entered his apartment again that night.

He was at his desk, as usual. Her first order of business, right after greeting him, was to remind him of her proposal for a Crow and +Natural crossover. His answer was the same as it had been for the past few days, which was that he was still thinking about it.

She could've said more after that, but he was busy spinning a scene to life on his desk. He yelled out sound effects and darted his hand all over his paper. The feathers stuck into his shirt collar flapped with his movements, as if they were attached to real birds. Something in the way he worked, so engrossed in his fantastical world, made her voice shy away as if repelled by a force field. After watching him for a bit, the words she'd planned to say were replaced by entirely new ones.

"Nizuma," she said. "I want to talk to you about something."

"I just told you that I'm still thinking about it."

"No, not about the crossover. Something else. Forgive me for saying this, but I've heard some strange things about you. Apparently you once said that you do nothing other than eat, sleep, and draw."

"I've probably said that more than once in my lifetime," he replied cheerfully.

"You're confirming it, then?"

"It's not a secret."

She'd heard descriptions of his bizarre lifestyle from their editors, his assistants, and plenty of others who were acquainted with him. She'd never fully believed any of them. Somehow it was even more bewildering to hear a confirmation from Nizuma himself.

She asked him, "Are you happy spending all your time on manga?"

He turned his head to show her a wide grin that was even more exaggerated than his usual one. "Don't I look happy?"

Despite the (rather disturbing) hugeness of his smile, Iwase was still skeptical. "Surely you want to have something else in your life."

"Nope!" His face turned back toward his work. "Manga gives me all the happiness I need."

"Don't you ever wish to take up other hobbies or spend time with friends or . . . or find love, perhaps?" She was acutely aware that she was making a dangerous move here, not to mention crossing a professional boundary. Every word stabbed her throat on the way out.

"You know, I don't mind declaring my love of manga over and over again, but surely someone as smart as you wouldn't need me to repeat myself to get my point." Despite the scolding wording of his reply, his tone was still lighthearted. If her intrusion bothered him, he didn't show it.

She felt chided nonetheless. "I apologize if I seem pushy. It's just that I'm honestly concerned about you. You're happy for now, but you could change your mind in the future. You might become saddened by the lack of romance – ah, and other things – in your life."

"I'll cross that bridge when and if I ever get to it."

All of a sudden, Iwase was blinded by a flash of rage. She knew it was a ridiculous reaction but she just couldn't stop it. He was unbelievable. He set aside the issue so easily, as if it was a bit of dust he brushed off his clothes. Meanwhile, her own love life was a boulder crushing her under its weight. It was a plague of melancholy that followed her everywhere, despite her desperate efforts to escape it.

She thought about Takagi and Hattori and the pure humiliation that had come with each of their rejections. Nizuma didn't know that pain and he probably never would. He was unscathed where she was not. What made him so special? Why did he seem immune to the agonies of romance?

She realized the answer after she managed to calm down. Oh, of course, it was because he lived in manga. He may be an adult in years, but in spirit he was a child permanently stuck inside his own dream world. He couldn't become attached to anyone real.

It would be pointless to pursue him. She'd been insane to even consider it. The smartest thing to do now would be to give up on all those fanciful notions and pretend they had never been in her mind.

As she made this decision, something in her chest squirmed in protest, which she ignored.

"I don't know how manga can make you so content," she commented.

Nizuma actually paused his drawing for a moment to shrug. "Even if I explained it to you, I doubt you'd understand. How can you understand my love of something that you view as low art?"

The heat of a blush crept onto her face. "I didn't know that you knew I said that."

"You're not the only one who hears rumors about your colleagues," he said wryly. "But don't worry. Even if you think that way about manga, I can still work with you just fine."

"That's good to know. And I would still like to hear your explanation, even if you don't think I would understand it."

"I don't question why manga makes me happy. It just does and that's all I need to know. I live for it." He flashed an affectionate smile at his paper, as if he was speaking to his characters instead of her. "And now, Miss Akina, I have a question for you. Can you rightfully say that something is not worthwhile if it is loved so dearly by myself and many others like me?"

The "many others" were little more than a faceless mass to her, but Nizuma was a different story. She hesitated to criticize his life's work. She had respect for him. He may be a closed-off fool but he was undeniably excellent at his job.

Perhaps excellent enough to change her opinion of manga? No. Her eyes fell on the desk where his work lay spread out. One glance at those unreal, exaggerated characters was enough to make her remember why manga was low art. Real books were far more dignified than these cartoons.

"Maybe, maybe not," she finally said in response to Nizuma's question. He didn't press her for a better answer. Perhaps he already knew her true thoughts or perhaps he just didn't care enough to hunt for them.