The golden-haired, twin-tailed girl couldn't help but bare her small fangs as she gave the fool before her a pointed look. Her sharp eyes scanned Haruto from head to toe. Yet as more and more students poured into the classroom, she reluctantly clicked her tongue and backed off for now.
Mouthing a few words at him—something like a playful threat—she then returned to her own seat. Haruto, the one being 'threatened,' simply watched her leave with indifference before closing his eyes quietly at his desk.
The fact that the person he was dating didn't attend the same school as him weighed on his mind with a faint sense of helplessness. During breaks, he often found himself with nothing to do—unable to spend his time enjoying youthful romance like the others. All he could do was sit quietly, watching the way his classmates overflowed with energy, flipping through a convenience store magazine he had picked up without much thought.
"New Film Script Contest."
A headline caught his eye. Haruto paused, his gaze lingering over the article, reading it carefully.
"Grand prize: 5 million yen."
His eyes hovered over the prize amount for a while before he folded the magazine neatly and slipped it into the desk drawer. Even though he went back to sitting still, a tiny spark had ignited somewhere inside him.
The school day dragged on in its usual dullness. When the final bell rang, Haruto lingered briefly in the astronomy club room before heading home alone—once again reminded that he and Setsuna went to different schools and couldn't walk home together.
That evening, Haruto made a decision: he would dedicate three hours every day solely to writing.
Maybe he was unusually talented when it came to crafting these tragic, grounded stories—because once he started, he felt no signs of writer's block at all. His output was astonishing, around three thousand words an hour. As of now, he had already written close to seventy thousand words.
Normally, that would be enough for a full-length novel.
But Haruto didn't feel like the story was ready to end just yet. He estimated he'd probably wrap it up at around one hundred thousand words. At his current pace, that meant he could finish within a week.
"The story itself is coming along fine. The real challenge is what happens after it's done: submitting it somewhere," he muttered to himself.
Winning one of the big competitions was out of the question for someone like him. Realistically, his best shot would be one of the smaller, more accessible newcomer awards hosted by publishing houses or light novel labels.
Sitting alone in his room, Haruto pulled out his phone. Although the internet wasn't as fast and sleek as it would be in the future, browsing was no issue. He opened up the browser and started checking out various submission deadlines and award schedules.
The results were... disappointing.
Most of the contests had ridiculously long waiting periods—some wouldn't even announce results until summer break.
"That's way too slow... not what I had in mind," he sighed. "Even if I submit to one of these, by the time they get around to judging, my momentum will be long gone."
It was then that he remembered something: Mai had once given him a business card.
Pulling open his desk drawer, he rummaged through the contents.
During a family visit not long ago, he had hidden away certain ahem materials, all of which had ended up being "used up" in yesterday's... ordeal.
He casually flipped through the remnants and quickly found the card he was looking for.
He held it up to the light, studying the name and company printed on it:
"Sakura Publishing — Mari Kazaoka."
Setting the card down carefully so it wouldn't be blown away, Haruto weighed it down with a pen holder, then closed the drawer and sat back at his desk to resume writing.
By the time May rolled around, even though Futaba Rio had said she'd be getting busier, Haruto still found her waiting for him every day in the same familiar lab room at lunchtime. They sat together, chatting about whatever came to mind, almost as if nothing had changed.
Sometimes, Rio would casually ask about how things were going between Haruto and Setsuna, but after asking, she'd always lapse into a brief, pensive silence.
Meanwhile, in the classroom, Ichika would occasionally strike up conversations with Haruto, but their interactions had grown noticeably less warm.
The change didn't go unnoticed; whispers started circulating among the students, speculating about the distance between them—but those rumors eventually faded away.
As for Eriri, the two of them kept their distance both during school and outside it. The only real interaction between them was the occasional fleeting moment when their eyes would meet—usually when Haruto was zoning out.
Thus, time continued its slow, steady flow.
The seasons shifted. The days grew warmer, and soon it would be time to change into summer uniforms. The boys in the class were practically buzzing with excitement, eager for any excuse to glimpse more bare skin and delicate limbs.
Haruto, on the other hand, was consumed by thoughts of his almost-finished manuscript—and how to finally make contact with the editor whose business card now sat on his desk.
Sakura Publishing seemed more focused on magazines, not books, so if he were just pitching a short piece or an article, it would have been simple. But publishing a full novel was an entirely different process.
"Still, if I don't try, I'll just stay stuck in the same place forever."
That Friday, after returning home to his small apartment, Haruto steeled himself.
He picked up the business card once more, stared at it for a long moment—and then dialed the number printed on it.
Ring—
Ring—
Ring—
He stood there silently, waiting as the dial tone stretched on endlessly. Ten seconds passed. Still no answer.
Haruto exhaled a faint sigh but kept waiting patiently.
One minute passed.
Still, no one picked up.
Just as he was about to hang up—
"Hello, this is Mari Kazaoka. May I ask what this is regarding?"
Just when Haruto had given up hope that anyone would answer, and was already considering submitting to other publishers, a crisp, professional woman's voice came from the other end of the line.
Even without seeing her, just from her voice, Haruto could already picture a sharp, capable woman in his mind.
"My name is Miyamizu Haruto . I'd like to discuss a submission with you, Miss Fukaoka. Would you have a moment?"
"A submission?"
At her desk at the editing office, Mari frowned instinctively.
An unfamiliar number, an unfamiliar name—someone she didn't know suddenly reaching out, talking about a "submission." Her editor's instincts told her it wasn't worth paying much attention. From the sound of his voice—still rough and uneven from puberty—it was easy to imagine a high school student who had somehow stumbled upon her contact information, hoping to get his "work" published in a magazine.
Of course, the magazine did accept submissions, and occasionally published them—but those were all carefully selected by the editorial team, or requested from well-known writers they personally invited.
Mari had dealt with eager newcomers before, but usually through the company's main line, not her personal number. This situation was rare.
"If you have a submission, you can send it directly to our publishing office. Is there anything else?"
Her reply was brisk and to the point, exactly as Haruto expected. Someone like him, reaching out of the blue, wasn't going to be welcomed with open arms. Right now, the name Miyamizu Haruto carried no weight whatsoever.
"No, I think there might be a misunderstanding. What I want to submit isn't just a short piece for the magazine—it's a full manuscript. A novel."
"A novel?"
Mari couldn't help but feel slightly amused.A manuscript was a manuscript—what made his any different?
"Is there something special about it?"
"Not especially. It's just that I'm not talking about a short contribution to your magazine. I'm talking about publishing an actual book."
As she lowered her eyes to the papers on her desk, thinking of how best to politely decline, Mari paused for a moment.
"A book, you say?"
"Yes."
"I see..."
She glanced at the delicate ladies' watch on her wrist—almost time to clock out. Mari was diligent about her work but had no particular love for overtime. Seeing that she had no more urgent tasks today, she asked if Haruto was available tomorrow.
"Mister Miyamizu, was it?"
"Yes, Miyamizu Haruto."
"Then, Mr. Miyamizu, are you free tomorrow?"
"I'm free starting from noon."
"Noon? That works. Bring your manuscript to our publishing office around noon tomorrow. Tell the front desk you're here to see me. Is that alright?"
Haruto, who had braced himself for a longer negotiation, was honestly surprised at how smoothly things went.
"No problem."
"Alright then, I'll see you tomorrow."
With that, she promptly hung up.
Haruto, who had been about to say, "Thank you for your time," found himself cut off by the dead tone of the disconnected call.
Still, having dealt with various editors before, Haruto wasn't particularly bothered. He casually set his phone down beside him, sat on the edge of his bed, and made a mental note:
"Noon tomorrow."
Satisfied he wouldn't forget, Haruto closed his eyes and stretched out on his bed.
That night, over dinner at the Kiyoura household, Haruto brought up a question.
"What kind of person is Mari Kazaoka?"
He wanted to be prepared before meeting her, so he figured it would help to know what kind of personality she had.
At his question, Mai gave him a suspicious look, clearly wondering why he was suddenly asking about such a thing.
"I'm meeting her tomorrow at her office to talk about my manuscript. I thought I'd get some insight into what she's like so I can prepare myself," Haruto explained calmly, waiting for her answer.
"I see. It's about the book, then."
Mai nodded, seemingly convinced, and didn't ask further. She thought for a moment before speaking.
"Honestly, I don't know her that well either. I only met her through work once. But if I had to describe her... she gives off the vibe of a career woman. A real workaholic."
"A workaholic?"
"Yeah, definitely."
Mai nodded seriously and continued.
"I won't bore you with all the ordinary details. Long story short, she's very meticulous. During the time we worked together, there was even a night—past 10 PM—when she sent me an email asking about a tiny work-related issue."
"..."
"At the time, I was already fast asleep. It wasn't until the next morning, when the other party called to confirm, that I even noticed the email at all."
"And then?"
"What do you mean, and then? Isn't that enough?"
Seated across from each other, Haruto and Mai stared blankly into each other's eyes. Meanwhile, Setsuna, who was sitting beside Haruto, glanced at him with a curious expression.
"So… the publication. Does that mean the work is finished?"
At Setsuna's question, Haruto withdrew his gaze from Mai and turned to his girlfriend, nodding lightly.
"Yeah, it's done. The next step is the actual release."
"And the meeting is tomorrow?"
"Mm."
"Good luck."
Hearing her quiet encouragement, Haruto smiled and nodded again."Thanks."
When he got home, he quickly showered, changed into his pajamas, and threw himself into bed for some rest.The next morning, before heading out, he carefully packed his manuscript into his bag — ready to go straight to the publishing house after school.
Sitting in the classroom, Haruto found that something as ordinary as attending lessons suddenly felt almost unbearable.
His fingers tapped restlessly against his notebook. Thankfully, the sound was faint enough not to draw attention.
He barely endured until noon — the moment the bell rang, he rushed out of the classroom without a second thought.
Eriri, who had just stood up, caught a glimpse of his disappearing figure at the back door, and sighed.She had wanted to talk to him.
Exiting the school gates, Haruto made a beeline to the subway station.He boarded the train and headed toward the publisher — Sakura Publishing.It wasn't hard to find. Their official website had the address clearly listed.
"Miss Fukaoka, it's already noon. Aren't you going to take a break?"
In the publishing office, lunchtime had arrived.Most of the staff had left their desks in small groups, heading off to relax and grab food.Only Mari Kazaoka remained at her desk, still focused on the documents in front of her.
The newly hired assistant, Suzuki, hesitated before speaking.Mari's workaholic intensity had already left quite an impression.
"It's noon already?"
Mari finally lifted her head, blinking as she glanced at the clock on the wall.She vaguely recalled that before leaving work yesterday, she had arranged to meet someone around lunchtime today.
Closing her file, Mari turned to Suzuki with a question.
"Has anyone come looking for me? Probably a young boy?"
"No… no one."
Suzuki's eyes widened slightly. Mari Kazaoka— who practically lived at her desk — asking about someone? Could it be…?
"Your boyfriend?" Suzuki blurted out.
"Hah? Boyfriend? No way. How could I possibly have time for that with all this work?"Mari shook her head emphatically.
"But then… Kazaoka-senpai, you… uh, never mind."
Mari smiled wryly at her junior's awkwardness."Just say whatever's on your mind. Hiding it only makes it more suspicious."
"Sorry…"
"Nothing to apologize for," Mari said, rising from her seat."If no one's come yet, then it's fine. I should grab lunch myself."
"Thanks for your hard work!"
As Mari stood, ready to head to the company cafeteria, the phone on her desk rang sharply.
She glanced at the caller ID, picked it up without hesitation, and spoke briskly.
"Yes, this is Mari Kazaoka. Got it. I'll be right there. Please show him to the meeting room first."
Hanging up, Mari turned back to Suzuki with a faint smile.
"That call… was it from that boy?"
"Yeah."
"Work-related?"
"Mm. He's here to submit a manuscript. I'll go meet him."
"Good luck!"
Suzuki watched Mari's retreating back with admiration — and relief.Without Mari's intense presence, the office somehow felt much lighter.
Kazaoka-senpai's pressure was really something else…
After arriving at the publisher, Haruto approached the front desk and gave Mari Kazaoka's name. The receptionist made a quick call for confirmation, then led Haruto to a waiting room, where they left him with a glass of hot water.
Haruto stared at the water absentmindedly, wondering if, on his next visit, they might offer coffee or tea instead.
Clack —
The door to the waiting room opened, snapping Haruto out of his thoughts.
A woman in sleek black stockings and a sharp black business suit stepped into the room.Her gaze immediately locked onto Haruto.
"I'm Mari Kazaoka. You must be Miyamizu…?"
"Miyamizu Haruto."
"I figured you were probably a student, but I wasn't expecting you to be quite this handsome," she said lightly. "A bit of a surprise."
Then, her tone shifted to business."Alright. Your manuscript?"
Haruto pulled out the carefully organized pages from his bag and handed them to her.
Mari raised an eyebrow slightly — pleasantly surprised to see a handwritten manuscript in an era dominated by laptops and typing.
"Please, have a seat. I'll take a look," she said.
"Take your time," Haruto replied politely.