Dark Comic Manga

sex, ntr, nsfw, Japanese comics,
半分の君 Romaji: Hanbun no Kimi Meaning: “Half of You” At Hoshizora Academy, the Compatibility Program forces second year students to live together like married couples — cooking, cleaning, studying, sharing a dorm unit, and being graded on emotional sync. High scores mean scholarships. Low scores mean repeating the year. The program is infamous for creating bonds that feel too real and exposing feelings students try to hide. Ignatius Arimura enters the year hoping to stay invisible. He’s quiet, introverted, and still carrying the ache of a breakup he never healed from. Aoi Kisaragi was his first love — the girl who made him feel alive, and the girl who walked away from him without ever explaining why. Aoi hides her guilt behind her bright smile, convincing herself she’s moved on to Ren. Ignatius tells himself he likes Mina because it’s easier than admitting he still aches for Aoi. When the pairing announcement arrives, Aoi silently begs for Ren. Ignatius silently hopes for Mina. Both pray they won’t be paired with each other. But fate is cruel. Their names appear together with a compatibility score of 12%, the lowest in the program. The room goes silent. Aoi’s smile cracks. Ignatius’s heart sinks. Moving into the same dorm feels like reopening a wound neither of them survived. Their first days together are a disaster. Aoi’s loud music, Ignatius’s quiet routines, her clutter, his need for order — everything clashes. Their first evaluation ends in failure. But when Ignatius freezes during a public speaking assignment, Aoi steps in without hesitation, her voice steady, her hand brushing his as she takes over. For a moment, it feels like the version of them that used to exist. Their score rises to 18%, and Ignatius realizes with a painful twist that he never stopped caring. Seeing Mina and Ren working together so naturally only deepens the ache. Aoi watches Ren laugh with Mina in a way he never laughed with her. Ignatius watches Mina shine beside Ren and wonders if he ever had a chance. Both feel jealousy they refuse to acknowledge. That night, Aoi cries quietly in the bathroom, and Ignatius hears her through the door. He stands there, hand hovering over the handle, but he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to comfort her anymore. They eventually agree to a truce and create a “Compatibility Strategy Plan.” Cooking together leads to soft laughter. Communication drills turn into arguments that somehow end with them smiling. Late night study sessions blur into moments where they forget they’re supposed to be exes. They fall asleep on opposite ends of the couch, but each night they wake up a little closer. Their score jumps to 41%. Aoi wakes one morning with Ignatius’s jacket draped over her shoulders. She doesn’t ask why. He doesn’t tell her. And then comes the chapter that changes everything. One night, after a long study session, Aoi falls asleep at the table, her head resting on her arms. Ignatius tries to wake her, but she mumbles something soft and exhausted, and he can’t bring himself to shake her. He sits beside her, meaning to stay only a moment. But he’s tired too. He rests his head on his folded arms, inches from hers. The room is warm. The silence is gentle. Without meaning to, they drift off together. When they wake, the sun is rising. Aoi’s head is resting on Ignatius’s shoulder. His hand is loosely holding hers. Their breaths are slow and in sync, like they’ve been sleeping together for years. For a long moment, neither moves. Neither speaks. The world feels fragile, like one wrong word could shatter it. Aoi’s cheeks turn pink. Ignatius’s heart races. They pull away slowly, reluctantly, as if their bodies haven’t caught up to their minds. Their score jumps to 52% the next day, and the teachers quietly note that their emotional sync spiked overnight. Aoi begins noticing Ignatius again — the way he concentrates, the way he softens when he’s comfortable, the way he still remembers her favorite snacks. Ignatius begins noticing Aoi’s hidden fears — her loneliness behind her popularity, her pressure to be perfect, the way she tries so hard not to disappoint anyone. They move around each other like a married couple who never learned how to stop caring. They share toothbrush cups, laundry baskets, late night ramen, sleepy mornings, and quiet moments that feel too intimate for two people who claim they’re over each other. During the festival test, their booth becomes the most popular attraction. Aoi turns down a confession from another boy, her voice trembling. Ignatius gets flustered when Mina compliments him, and Aoi notices the way he blushes. Their score jumps to 63%. That night, Aoi quietly asks him if he ever hated her after the breakup. Ignatius can’t answer. He can’t lie. The silence between them is thick with everything they never said. Rumors spread that pairs might be reassigned. Aoi panics at the thought of losing her chance with Ren. Ignatius panics at the thought of losing Mina. But beneath those fears is something heavier: neither of them wants to be separated from each other. Aoi cries alone on the balcony, and Ignatius silently places a blanket over her shoulders. She doesn’t turn around, but she leans into the warmth. They stand there together, the distance between them shrinking in ways neither of them can deny. A storm knocks out the power one night, leaving them in darkness with no cameras, no expectations, no pretending. They talk honestly for the first time in months. Aoi admits she’s tired of being the strong one. Ignatius admits he’s tired of being the quiet one. They sit close, closer than they have since before the breakup, sharing warmth in the dark. Aoi falls asleep with her head on his shoulder again. Ignatius doesn’t move. Their emotional sync test the next morning hits 92%, the highest in the program. As Ren and Mina grow closer, Aoi and Ignatius realize their old crushes were fantasies — safe illusions they clung to because they were afraid of the real thing. The real connection is the one they’ve rebuilt: messy, painful, warm, and real. They act like a married couple — cooking together, arguing, laughing, sharing space, sharing silence — but they’re not lovers. Not yet. They’re something in between, something fragile and terrifying and impossible to name. When the reassignment list is posted, Aoi’s hands shake and K Ignatius’s heart pounds. They scan the list, terrified. Their names remain together. Not because of luck. Not because of the system. But because they earned it. Aoi turns to him, eyes shining with something fragile and hopeful, and whispers, “Ignatius … can we try again?” He takes her hand gently, like she might break, and says, “Yeah. This time… let’s not run.” They’re not lovers. Not yet. But they’re closer than they’ve ever been — a pair who lives like a married couple, fights like rivals, and holds each other like home.
Chapter Intro: The seal is broken. The Rift stirs. Deep within the void, a presence awakens — ancient and furious. The Riftborn King, long dormant, has opened his eye. As the Hidden Leaf regroups, Team 0 is summoned to a secret chamber beneath the Hokage Tower. There, the truth behind the Hoshigan, Isaiah’s mutation, and the Riftborn’s obsession with their bloodlines is finally revealed. Scene 1: Descent into Secrets Interior panel: A spiral staircase winds deep beneath the Hokage Tower. The walls are carved with ancient symbols. Torches flicker with blue flame. - Shawn: Cloaked in black, his white fox mask with red markings clipped to his belt. His face is calm, with sharp cheekbones and a faint scar beneath his right eye. His 3-Tomoe Hoshigan glows with a fourth mark forming — a black diamond at the center. The obsidian-forged sword rests across his back, humming with gravitational energy. - Jaden: His long, flowing black hair cascades down his back, tied loosely at the base. He wears a black shinobi robe with a red flame crest on the chest, one sleeve torn to reveal his muscular left arm. His Byakugan is dormant but alert, and his black gloves are worn from battle. - Isaiah: Towering and broad-shouldered, his dark skin is marked with faint black veins from his mutation. His dreadlocks are tied back, and his jagged fur-lined cloak drapes over a cream-colored combat tunic. A kunai spins slowly in his right hand, his eyes scanning every shadow. Hokage (gravely): “This vault predates the village. It holds the truth behind your powers.” Kuroda (to Shawn): “Your eye didn’t awaken by chance. It was chosen — by something older than chakra itself.” Scene 2: The Memory Stone A massive crystal floats in the center of the chamber, pulsing with violet light. As Shawn steps forward, his Hoshigan reacts — the fourth mark completes with a flash. Shawn (wincing, voice strained): “It’s… calling me.” He reaches out. The moment his fingers touch the stone, a surge of energy floods the room. Time freezes. Jaden and Isaiah are suspended mid-step, their expressions locked in concern. Scene 3: The Riftborn King Revealed Shawn is pulled into a vision. He stands in a shattered world — skies torn open, stars bleeding. A throne of bone and obsidian looms ahead. Upon it sits the Riftborn King — a towering figure with six arms, a jagged crystal crown, and a massive Hoshigan embedded in his chest. Riftborn King (voice like thunder): “You wear my legacy, child. My eye. My curse.” Shawn (steady, eyes glowing): “I’m not your heir.” Riftborn King: “You already are. The Eye remembers. And soon… so will you.” The King raises a hand. The vision shatters. Scene 4: The Eye Evolves Back in the chamber, time resumes. Shawn stumbles back, breathing hard. His Hoshigan now bears a fourth tomoe — a black diamond spinning at the center. Jaden (rushing forward, long hair flowing): “Shawn! What happened?!” His Byakugan activates instantly, veins bulging at his temples. He scans Shawn’s chakra network — it’s swirling, unstable, like a storm inside a bottle. Isaiah (stepping in, dreadlocks swaying): “Your chakra… it’s not yours anymore.” His mutation pulses in response, black veins glowing faintly beneath his skin. Shawn (voice low, eyes burning): “I saw him. The Riftborn King. He’s coming.” Scene 5: The King’s Herald The chamber trembles. A Riftborn sigil burns into the air. A voice echoes from the stone. Riftborn Voice (disembodied): “The King rises. The Eye will return. And the world will kneel.” The sigil vanishes. Silence falls. Hokage (to Team 0): “You three are the last line. If the King crosses over… we fall.” Scene 6: Final Panel Full-page spread: Team 0 stands before the glowing memory stone. - Shawn: Cloak fluttering, Hoshigan gleaming with four tomoe. His obsidian blade hums with power. - Jaden: Long hair flowing, Byakugan fully active, lightning crackling at his fingertips. - Isaiah: Dreadlocks wild, mutation coiled like a shadow beast behind him, kunai in hand. Narration box: The King has awakened. The Eye has remembered. And the war for reality has begun.
Wonder Woman wears a jetpack flying in orbit. Throughout the whole galaxy wonder woman flies through outer space.
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching. Make the heroine have white hair
In an era where six Supremes mark the absolute ceiling of existence, the world moves under a quiet, grinding tension: five Supremes stand revealed, anchoring nations, deterring wars, and defining the limits of power, while the sixth vanished long ago without death, omen, or echo, leaving behind not silence but a sense of deliberate containment that only beings at that level can feel; kingdoms ring their borders with alliances and naval forces, especially along the eastern ocean where island chains hide ancient mana scars, academies promote Gifted through rigid ranks obsessed with combat metrics and measurable mana, blind to the truth that Supremacy is not earned but survived, and above it all walks the MC, a Supreme who abandoned the system itself after realizing it was not a ladder but a cage, designed after the disappearance to prevent another from breaking reality the way the missing one nearly did; as nations posture, research forbidden spells, and quietly fear escalation, the MC senses what others refuse to name, that the missing Supreme did not fall or transcend but uncovered something beyond Supremacy and chose exile or imprisonment to stop it from cascading, making the current balance an illusion sustained by fear and ignorance, and as cracks spread through mana laws, island anomalies stir, and Supreme senses begin to distort, the story moves toward an inevitable convergence where the MC, the vanished Supreme, and the system meant to bind them are forced into collision, deciding whether the world remains stable, ascends, or shatters under the weight of truths it was never meant to hold.
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching.
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching.
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching.
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching.
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching. Make the heroine have white hair make her more serious and studious
Bagas selalu pamit dengan cara yang rapi. Tidak pernah tergesa, tidak pernah dramatis. Seolah pamit adalah bagian dari etika kerja—bukan perasaan. “Duluan ya.” Kalimat itu keluar dari mulutnya hampir setiap hari, di jam yang hampir sama. Nada suaranya datar, senyumnya tipis, cukup untuk disebut sopan. Ia berdiri. Mengambil tas. Menunggu satu detik. Selalu satu detik. Tidak untuk apa-apa. Hanya jeda kecil yang tidak pernah ia sadari alasannya. “Ya,” jawab seseorang dari balik layar komputer. Ada yang mengangguk. Ada yang bahkan tidak menoleh. Bagas melangkah pergi. Lift turun perlahan. Pantulan wajahnya terlihat di dinding kaca—tenang, tidak terburu-buru, tidak meninggalkan apa pun di belakang. Ia menyukai rasa ini. Rasa pergi tanpa ditahan. Di meja kerjanya, semuanya tertata rapi. Tidak ada barang personal yang mencolok. Tidak ada foto. Tidak ada catatan yang tertinggal. Bagas percaya, barang yang mudah ditinggal tidak akan menyulitkan siapa pun. Termasuk dirinya.
Langit masih ingat hari pertama ia bertemu Putri. Hujan turun deras di kampung halaman mereka. Saat itu, ia baru saja pindah dari kota bersama orang tuanya. Anak-anak desa agak enggan mendekati bocah baru itu—terlalu pendiam, terlalu canggung. Tapi tidak dengan Putri. “Namamu siapa?” “...Langit.” “Bagus. Aku Putri. Ayo main!” Begitu saja, tanpa banyak basa-basi, Putri menarik tangan Langit dan membawanya ke tengah hujan. Mereka bermain lumpur, membuat sungai kecil dari aliran air, dan tertawa hingga langit berhenti menangis. Sejak hari itu, mereka tak terpisahkan. Tahun-tahun berlalu, dan mereka tetap dekat. Dari SD sampai sekarang di SMA. Mereka punya tempat rahasia di tengah hutan dekat rumah kakek Langit—sebuah batu besar di samping sungai, di mana mereka sering membayangkan jadi penjelajah, pemburu naga, atau bahkan penjaga dunia. Namun, SMA membuat segalanya... berbeda. Mereka masih bersama, tapi kini ada rasa asing yang tumbuh diam-diam. Langit mulai sadar ia sering mencuri pandang saat Putri tertawa. Putri juga merasa jantungnya berdebar aneh setiap Langit memujinya, meski hanya soal tugas sekolah. Tapi keduanya memilih diam. Mereka takut. Takut kehilangan kenyamanan yang sudah bertahun-tahun mereka miliki. Liburan panjang akhirnya tiba. Langit mengajak Putri ke kampungnya, seperti dulu. Kakek Langit sudah lama tinggal sendiri, dan mereka sudah berjanji akan mengunjunginya lagi saat liburan datang. “Tempat kita masih ada gak ya?” tanya Putri di perjalanan. “Kalau belum tumbang dimakan waktu sih, masih. Kita bisa cek besok,” jawab Langit sambil tersenyum kecil. Di malam hari, mereka duduk di beranda rumah kayu, menatap bintang. Suasana hening, nyaman... dan menggantung. Putri ingin bilang sesuatu. Begitu juga Langit. Tapi tak satu pun dari mereka berani membuka suara lebih dulu. Esok harinya, mereka masuk hutan. Namun saat mereka menemukan jalan menuju tempat bermain dulu, mereka malah melihat sesuatu yang aneh: sebuah gubuk yang tak pernah ada sebelumnya. Terlihat tua, ditelan akar dan dedaunan, tapi... utuh. Seperti menunggu seseorang. Mereka saling pandang. “Kamu juga liat, kan?” “Iya... harusnya di situ cuma ada batu besar.” Rasa penasaran lebih kuat dari rasa takut. Mereka masuk. Dan di situlah mereka melihatnya: sebuah buku besar tergeletak di atas altar batu. Tidak berdebu. Tidak kotor. Seolah baru saja ditaruh. Langit mendekat. “Putri... kamu lihat ini?” Putri mengangguk. Mereka mendekat bersamaan. Saat Langit menyentuh buku itu—halaman terbuka sendiri, mengeluarkan cahaya putih menyilaukan. Mereka berteriak. Dunia berguncang. Lalu semuanya gelap.
seorang pemuda yang menyukai sejarah kembali ke masa lalu dan menemukan varian multiversenya yang berada di jaman abad pertengahan dengan nasionalitas berbeda dan menemukan jika ingin kembali diharuskan menemukan artefak legendaris dari 3 kembarannya