The deadline for the first serialized chapter of Dragon Ball was three days away.
The atmosphere in Rito's room was a strange mix of professional intensity and personal frost. Mikan sat at the low table, her posture perfect, her hand steady as she applied the final inking lines to a complex background of a mountain range.
She hadn't smiled since the "celebration" night.
"Here," Mikan said, sliding a finished page across the tatami to Rito's desk. "Page 14 is done. I fixed the perspective on the cloud."
Rito picked it up. It was flawless. "This is amazing, Mikan. You're actually better at backgrounds than I am."
"I just follow the lines," she said, not looking up as she pulled the next page, a critical double-page spread of Goku summoning Shenron for the first time, toward her. "Focus on the characters, Hoshino-sensei."
Rito winced at the formal title. She was using it like a shield.
"Mikan, about the other night..." Rito started, spinning his chair around. "I really am sorry. I didn't call them. I just wanted—"
WHOOSH.
The ceiling hatch slid open.
"Rito~! Are you guys still working?"
Lala dropped down into the room, wearing her pajamas and a pair of oversized goggles. She landed lightly, peering over Mikan's shoulder.
Mikan stiffened. Her hand froze over the manuscript paper, the pen hovering dangerously close to the dragon's scales.
"We're busy, Lala-san," Mikan said, her voice tight. "Please be careful. This ink takes time to dry."
"I know!" Lala chirped. "That's why I'm here! I felt bad that you guys have been working so hard every night while I just sleep! I want to be a good wife and help too!"
Rito stood up. "Lala, that's sweet, but drawing manga is kind of specialized. You can't just—"
"Ta-da!"
Lala whipped a device from behind her back. It looked like a fountain pen crossed with a rocket engine, glowing with a pulsating green light.
"I invented this just for you! The Auto-Draw Pen-kun!" Lala beamed, aiming it at the desk. "I scanned Rito's art style! This pen uses molecular ink-manipulation to finish a drawing in seconds! It will make Mikan-chan's job so much easier!"
Mikan's eyes widened. She instinctively covered the double-page spread with her arms. "No. I'm doing this by hand. It needs to be precise."
"But this is precise!" Lala insisted, stepping closer. "Just watch! Peke ran the calculations!"
"Lala, wait!" Rito shouted, sensing the disaster in his gut. "Don't—"
It was too late. Lala, eager to prove her usefulness and join their "team," reached out and tapped the activation button on the pen.
"Go, Auto-Draw-kun! Finish the page!"
The pen hummed. It vibrated.
Then, instead of drawing a line, it sneezed.
SPLAT.
A high-pressure jet of indelible, greasy, black alien ink shot out of the tip. It didn't draw Goku. It didn't draw Shenron.
It blasted Mikan.
It coated her hands. It splattered across her face. And, most devastatingly, it soaked the double-page spread she had been protecting beneath her arms, turning six hours of meticulous, hand-drawn line art into a dripping, black void.
The hum of the pen died down.
Silence descended on the room. Absolute, horrific silence.
Lala blinked, looking at the ruined page. "Oh... oops. Maybe the pressure valve was too high?"
Rito stared at the destroyed manuscript. His heart stopped. That page was the climax of the chapter.
"Mikan..." Rito whispered.
Mikan didn't move. She sat there, ink dripping from her nose, staring down at the black puddle that used to be her hard work. The work that was supposed to be theirs. The work that was supposed to be the one thing the aliens couldn't touch.
She slowly wiped a hand across her cheek, smearing the ink further.
She didn't scream. She didn't cry. She just stood up.
…
"Mikan..." Rito whispered, stepping toward her.
Lala looked at the black, dripping mess on the desk, then at Mikan's ink-stained face. Her antennas drooped, realizing too late that this wasn't a simple "oops."
"I... I can fix it!" Lala stammered, frantically tapping the pen. "I have a Restore-Paper-kun! Or I can use the Clean-Clean-kun to get the ink off your face! I just wanted to help you finish faster so we could all play!"
Mikan didn't answer. She reached out and picked up the ruined manuscript page. The ink was heavy, soaking through the paper, obliterating the lines she had agonized over. The dragon she had helped bring to life was gone, drowned in a black void.
She let the paper drop. It landed with a wet slap on the tatami.
"Mikan, listen," Rito said, reaching for her arm. "It's okay. We can redraw it. I'll stay up all night. It's just paper."
Mikan pulled her arm away. The movement was sharp, rejecting his touch.
She turned to face them. Ink dripped from her chin like black tears. Her eyes were dry, but they were emptier than Rito had ever seen them.
"It's not just paper," she said, her voice terrifyingly quiet. "It was... ours."
She looked at Lala. There was no anger in her gaze, only a crushing defeat.
"You have everything, Lala-san," Mikan whispered. "You have the engagement. You have the seals. You have his future. You even have the magic to fix everything you break."
She looked down at her own ink-stained hands.
"I just had this. I just had... being useful. And now you have that too."
"No!" Lala cried, dropping the pen. "That's not true! We're a family! I just wanted to be part of the team!"
"There is no team," Mikan said flatly. "There's the King and his Wives. And then there's the little sister who cleans up the mess."
She walked past them. She didn't run. She didn't stomp. She walked with the slow, heavy steps of someone who had nowhere left to stand.
"Where are you going?" Rito asked, panic rising in his throat. "Mikan, wait! Let me clean you up! Let's talk!"
Mikan didn't stop. She walked out of the room and down the stairs.
"I'm going to the convenience store," she said, her voice drifting up from the hallway. It was a lie. They both knew it. "I need... I need to get away from the smell of this ink."
Rito stood frozen, torn between the crying alien princess in his room and the sister walking away from him.
'The convenience store? At 10 PM?'
"Mikan!" Rito yelled, bolting for the door.
He heard the front door open. He heard the bell chime. And then he heard it click shut.
By the time Rito scrambled down the stairs and threw the front door open, the street was empty. The night was silent.
Yuuki Mikan was gone.
*****
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