Author's Note — Updates for Ryota & Ruichi
Hi everyone,
I wanted to share a quick update about The Real Code of Ruichi Kusura and Ryota: The Magic Prodigy. Unfortunately, due to some personal circumstances, I won't be able to write full chapters for the next two weeks.
But—because so many of you love these two and are eagerly waiting for their crossover—I don't want to leave you completely without updates. So during these two weeks, I'll be releasing mini-chapters (around 700–900 words) every five days. These shorter parts will keep the story moving and bring us all closer to the crossover you deserve.
Thank you so much for your patience, your enthusiasm, and your support for both Ryota and Ruichi. I can't wait to return to full chapters soon!
— John
Ryota's small boat glided quietly into the harbor, its wooden hull creaking softly as it nudged the weathered dock. The salty scent of the sea mingled with the faint aroma of grilled fish drifting from nearby stalls. The bustling hum of Kanoji city spread out before them—rows of timber-framed houses, stone church spires piercing the sky, and narrow streets twisting inland.
Ryota paused, resting his hands on the tiller as he took in the scene. His eyes shone with quiet wonder, the breeze ruffling his messy hair.
"Look at all this, Marcus-san," Ryota said softly, voice tinged with awe. "So many people… so many stories."
Marcus stood behind him, arms crossed, watching the boy's gaze sweep the town with a mix of amusement and something like respect.
"Yeah, kid, it's a proper place," Marcus grunted. "Not some quiet island village anymore."
Ryota's gaze drifted toward a narrow alley where a group of children played, their laughter ringing over the cobblestones. He smiled, but then his expression grew thoughtful.
"This place feels different from home," he said quietly. "But… it's alive."
Marcus gave a short nod. "You learn quick. Bigger cities breathe different."
The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the harbor and painting the wooden boats in golden light.
Ryota's heart thumped with a mix of excitement and nerves. He looked back at Marcus.
"What now? We find this Ryichi, yes?"
Marcus smirked, pulling a folded map from his coat pocket.
"We got a lead. Ryichi's supposed to work at the local tech hub near the central plaza. We follow that road there—straight through the market."
Ryota nodded, determination sparking anew.
"Then let's go! I want to see if Ryichi really hears the sky's voice too."
Marcus chuckled as he stepped off the boat, steadying Ryota as the waves nudged the dock.
"Alright, sky watcher. Let's see what this place holds for you."
Together, they stepped onto the bustling pier, the murmur of voices, clinking of carts, and salty air filling their senses. The journey was just beginning — and the secrets of Izena were waiting.
The sun hung low, warm and golden, as Ryota and Marcus stepped off the dock and into the heartbeat of Kanoji's market. The narrow streets were alive with color — vibrant tarps stretched overhead casting shifting shadows, vendors shouting over each other to hawk fresh fish, fragrant fruits, and handmade crafts. The scent of salt and grilled seafood mingled with the sharp tang of citrus and spices.
Ryota's eyes darted from stall to stall, drinking in the chaos with wide-eyed wonder. He paused a moment to watch an old man expertly fillet a fish, the blade flashing silver in the sunlight.
"Look, Marcus-san," Ryota whispered, "so many people, so many things to see."
Marcus chuckled, hands in his pockets. "Yeah, it's a proper city buzz. Nothing like your quiet village back home."
A woman with a basket of ripe mangoes smiled at Ryota and offered him a piece, which he accepted shyly. The sweetness exploded on his tongue, and he grinned.
"Market's got good things, huh?" Marcus said with a nod. "Best way to get to know a place."
They weaved through the crowd, Ryota ducking under a canopy of red peppers drying in the sun, while Marcus eyed a stall selling strange mechanical parts.
"See anything interesting?" Ryota asked, tugging Marcus's sleeve.
"Plenty," Marcus said, smirking. "But not sure what half of it does."
Ryota's gaze shifted toward a tall stone clocktower in the distance, its face glowing faintly pink in the late afternoon sun.
"That's the central plaza," Marcus said. "Place where people gather, where you might find your Ryichi—or whoever he really is."
Ryota frowned. "Ryichi is… different from Ruichi?"
Marcus nodded slowly. "Yeah. Heard Ruichi Kusura is on a different island entirely. You might be chasing shadows."
Ryota's mouth tightened, but his eyes sparkled with stubborn hope.
"Maybe. But I still gotta find him."
Marcus smiled, shaking his head. "Well, kid, you're full of surprises."
The crowd thickened as the market buzzed on, the clatter of wooden carts and chatter weaving into a tapestry of sound and life. Ryota inhaled deeply, feeling the pulse of the city — chaotic, alive, and waiting.
The journey had just begun.
Bonus Part: Along the Kanoji Shoreline Cartway
The afternoon sun softened as Ryota and Marcus left behind the lively market stalls of Kanoji. The hum of vendors' voices and the smell of grilled fish lingered in the air like a warm memory, but now the narrow cartway stretched ahead—a winding path that hugged the sandy shore.
Ryota bounced lightly on his feet, his eyes brightening as he glanced at the sea just beyond the grassy edge of the path.
"Marcus-san, churasan, da ocean. You hear 'im breathin', yunjin?"
Marcus adjusted his satchel strap, squinting against the sunlight.
"Eh, I hearin' somethin' alright—cold wind sneakin' up ma sleeve, givin' me da creeps, ya know?"
Their footsteps crunched rhythmically on gravel and packed sand. Above, gulls cried as they wheeled lazily. Along the path, old stone markers stood worn but proud, like keepers of long stories.
Ryota's gaze shifted between the sea and the rolling hills beyond, dotted with wildflowers swaying in the breeze.
"Mama say, long time ago, horse pull carts all da way 'long dis road—from Izena 'til Kanoji."
Marcus nodded slowly.
"Dat's a journey, for sure. But betcha da view made it worth da trouble."
The cartway curved, revealing tide pools glittering in the sunlight. Ryota crouched, watching tiny crabs dart beneath the water and anemones waving on rocks.
"Churasan little worlds right here, Marcus-san."
Marcus smirked.
"You always find magic in da smallest things, doncha?"
Ryota shrugged, grinning wide.
"Everythin' magic if you watch close, ya see."
As the sun dipped lower, the sky blushing orange and pink, they reached a small wooden rest stop with a low bench and a weathered sign reading Kanoji Cartway Rest.
Marcus sank down, sighing tiredly as he pulled a water bottle from his pack.
"Aight, kiddo, time for break. You been runnin' ahead like da wind got ya back."
Ryota flopped down beside him, cheeks flushed but happy.
"Sorry, Marcus-san. I just wanna see everythin'. Dis path like tellin' me story."
Marcus handed him some water, his smile softening.
"Stories, huh? If you listen good, every path got one."
They drank quietly as the tide crept in, smoothing away their footprints.
Ryota pointed at jagged rocks silhouetted against the sunset.
"Kujima Rocks, Marcus-san. Mama say fishermen bring gifts there, so sea be kind."
Marcus studied the dark rocks.
"Sure, sea can be generous—or mean as hell."
Ryota's eyes sparkled.
"Sky and sea always talk. Sometimes they listen to people who respect 'em."
Marcus shook his head, still smiling.
"You got way with words, kid. Remind me of gran'pa."
The wind picked up, tugging their clothes and rustling the grass. A boat creaked nearby as fishermen readied their night catch.
Ryota jumped up, energy buzzing.
"Let's go! I wanna see lighthouse 'fore dark."
Marcus groaned but stood, dusting his pants.
"Aish, alright Captain. Lead da way."
The path wound along a low cliff, and around a bend, the tall white tower of Kanoji Lighthouse appeared, its red roof glowing softly in the twilight.
Ryota's heart raced.
"Dere it is! Papa say light helps boats find way home when dark come."
Marcus slowed, watching the boy's face.
"Been standin' here over hundred years. Seen storms, calm seas, shipwrecks, safe returns. That light's hope in dark."
Ryota looked up, the windows catching the last rays of sun.
"Hope… like sky's light."
They reached the lighthouse base, where a narrow spiral staircase led up.
"I wanna climb 'im," Ryota said, eyes fierce.
Marcus raised an eyebrow.
"You sure? Gettin' late, kid."
Ryota nodded.
"Just little while. Promise."
Together they climbed, the rough stone cool against their hands. At the top, the lantern room offered a breathtaking view—sea met sky, and the first stars blinked awake.
Ryota pressed his palm to the glass.
"Look, Marcus-san! Sky's got own lights now."
Marcus stood close, softer than usual.
"Stars watchin' us longer than we know."
The wind whispered through the window, salt and distant storms scenting the air.
Ryota closed his eyes, breathing deep.
"Sky and sea… always talkin'. Always watchin'."
Marcus's hand steadied on his shoulder.
"Maybe dey do, Ryota. Maybe dey do."
They sat in silence as the lighthouse beam swept over dark waves.
Below, fishermen lit lanterns on shore.
Stars blinked awake, carrying stories waiting to be told.