Mari flipped open the thick manuscript in front of her.
It was already well past lunchtime, and she hadn't eaten yet.
Her original plan was simple: skim through the boy's work just enough to grasp the gist of it, give him a polite response, and then head to the cafeteria for her usual quiet meal.
Boys his age — it was nothing new.
They often mistook a few television shows or some self-help books for life experience.And after soaking in a bit of that cheap wisdom, they began to believe they had some kind of innate talent.
It happened all the time.
The young man sitting across from her, still dressed in his high school uniform, was probably no different.
Handsome, no doubt often praised by those around him — it was easy to imagine how his confidence had swelled, convincing himself he could write something truly worth reading.
A handsome young genius writer, Mari thought wryly.
The kind of headline you saw on TV to draw viewers in.
She had no expectations.
Her only thought was to brush him off quickly, let him down gently from his unrealistic dreams, and then go enjoy her meal alone in peace.
Lowering her gaze to the manuscript, Mari began to read, her mood slightly sour.
She didn't deny the existence of true prodigies in the world — but they were rare, few and far between.
The chances of one sitting across from her today?Slim to none.
She flipped through page after page, at first casual, barely skimming. But gradually, her posture straightened.
Her fingers slowed. Her lazy attitude faded, replaced by a focused, upright seriousness.
Her face occasionally showed subtle signs of deep thought.
At one point, Mari lifted her head slowly and looked at the boy sitting quietly across from her.
Haruto, holding a paper cup in his hands, noticed her gaze. He offered a gentle, serene smile — a smile as soft and warm as a spring breeze.
Mari's heart gave a sudden, involuntary jolt. Doubt flickered in her mind, but alongside it bloomed a rare, fluttering sensation.
A woman who had never known love, who had buried herself in her work for years, suddenly found her cheeks flushing a soft pink.
Raising her left hand, she pressed it lightly against her lips, shielding herself from Haruto's clear, unwavering eyes.
She lowered her gaze quickly, ashamed of her sudden girlish stirrings, and forced herself to continue reading.
Half an hour passed.
An hour.
Two hours.
The lunch break had long since ended.
Suzuki, who had come by to remind her of work matters, was quietly sent away with instructions to handle things for the time being.
Mari sat there, completely absorbed, reading the manuscript from beginning to end without pause.
Only when she finally closed the last page did she knit her brows tightly and lift her eyes to meet the boy sitting across from her once more.
"Is the story based on something you actually experienced?"
"No, not exactly," Haruto replied. "I just happened to encounter a few scenes on the street that were similar to what I wrote about. I also mixed in some of the rumors I hear at school. That's where the inspiration came from. Is there a problem?"
Facing the confused boy, Mari slowly shook her head.
It wasn't the story she had a problem with—it was him. She hadn't expected that she would meet a real genius like this in person. She always thought geniuses were rare creatures you only heard about.
"No, no problem," Mari said, smiling faintly. "From the manuscript, I can tell just how much effort you poured into this. It's... very impressive."
"Thank you," Haruto said simply. "Then, about the publishing—?"
"Publishing shouldn't be an issue," Mari said, resting her hand lightly on the papers. "But it will take a bit of time. I'll need to discuss it with the editor-in-chief and some others first. I can't give you an immediate answer."
"I understand."
He accepted her response without surprise, as if he had expected it all along. His calmness caught Mari slightly off guard.
"Um..." she started.
"Hm?"
Looking at the boy—Haruto, she remembered—sitting there so quietly, Mari took a moment to gather herself before asking something she couldn't suppress.
"This is just out of personal curiosity—you don't have to answer if you don't want to—but why didn't you submit this to a larger publisher? Places like Kodansha or Shueisha would probably jump at the chance to work with someone like you. Why choose us, a smaller company like Sakura Publishing?"
It was a common question asked to promising newcomers. Haruto thought for a moment, then answered honestly.
"Probably because I happened to have your business card."
"My business card?"
"My neighbor, Mai Kiyoura, knew I was working on something, so she gave me your card. I'm sorry—I should have mentioned that earlier."
"I see... Mai Kiyoura, huh?" Mari smiled softly. "Well, no need to apologize. If anything, you've done me a favor. Alright, let me go make a copy of your manuscript. Please wait here for a moment."
Haruto nodded. He watched Mari leave the meeting room, then waited quietly, alone.
About twenty minutes later, Mari returned, handing back his original manuscript and promising to get back to him soon.
"I'll discuss it with the editor-in-chief right away," she said. "This piece is too good to ignore. I'm sure he'll agree."
"I understand. In that case, I'll take my leave."
They both stood, exchanged polite bows, and Haruto left the Sakura Publishing office.
Alone now, he wandered to a nearby shopping street and found a quiet izakaya. Sitting down, he ordered a few simple dishes.
He hadn't eaten anything since noon—only a glass of water—and now, deep into the afternoon, hunger gnawed at him. Fortunately, the place was nearly empty, with only him as a customer.
After satisfying his stomach with a quick meal, he paid the bill and headed back to his apartment.
Still feeling a bit restless, he decided to visit the Kiyoura house next door. There, he found Setsuna sitting with Sekai.
Without a second thought, he walked straight up to Setsuna, pulled her into his arms, and sat down with her on his lap.
"Did something happen?" Setsuna asked, tilting her head up at him, puzzled.
"No, not really," he said, pausing, "—or, well, I guess something did happen."
At first he instinctively denied it, but thinking back over the day, he realized it wasn't entirely true.
But... today had just been a preliminary conversation.
Nothing was finalized yet. Was it even worth mentioning?
"I'll tell you guys once it's settled," he said.
That answer only piqued Sekai's curiosity further. She blinked at him, then glanced at Setsuna, noticing the thoughtful look on her face.
Clearly, Setsuna had some idea what was going on—and that only made Sekai more eager to know.
"What is it?"
"Writing," he said simply. "The book I've been working on is finally finished. I'm trying to get it published."
"Published? Like, you'll be a real author?"
"I have to get it published first. I'm not an author yet."
He chuckled softly at her excitement. As he sat there, he absentmindedly kicked his legs a little, causing Setsuna—still perched on his lap—to bob up and down slightly. Feeling her shift, he averted his gaze awkwardly, sneaking a glance at Sekai.
Fortunately, Sekai was too caught up in her own thoughts about "publication" and "being an author" to notice anything odd.
"Will there be interviews?" she asked eagerly.
"Maybe, maybe not," he replied. "Depends on whether people are even interested in buying the book."
"What's the title?"
"I have one in mind," he said, "but it's not finalized yet. I'll need to discuss it with the publisher."
"You can't decide it yourself?"
"Not really. Once you get picked up by a publisher, especially as a newcomer with no awards, they have a lot of say in everything."
"I see..."
Sekai nodded, realizing it was more complicated than she'd thought. She had always imagined that writers could do whatever they wanted.
Meanwhile, Setsuna stayed quiet, deep in thought. If his book was published, she wondered silently, how many copies should she buy to show her support?
That night, after leaving the Kiyoura house, Haruto was walking home when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
It was a call from Mari Kazaoka.
"Hello, Miyamizu-kun?"
"Yes, Miss Kazaoka. Is something wrong?"
"Sorry to call you so late. Are you free right now? I'd like to discuss something."
"Of course. Is it about the book?"
Sitting in her office, Mari took a sip of her now-cold coffee and smiled.
"Yes. After reviewing it, the editor-in-chief agrees—it's very polished. There aren't really any major changes needed. He asked me to talk to you about the contract. Would you be available tomorrow or the day after?"
"I'm free tomorrow. The day after... I have school."
"Of course—you're still a student. Then let's meet tomorrow afternoon. I'll prepare the contract tonight."
"Understood."
"Alright. I'll let you get back to your evening. Thank you."
"Thank you."
After hanging up, a smile unconsciously tugged at Haruto's lips.He slipped his phone back into his pocket and walked home, feeling lighter somehow.
That night, lying in bed, he had one of the best dreams he could remember.
The next morning, he woke up feeling refreshed. Pulling aside the curtains, he stared out at the clear sky, let out a long breath, and made his way to the bathroom.
After going through his usual routine, he ate a simple breakfast, but couldn't settle down afterward. Knowing he had important business later in the day, he decided to leave the house early.
He wandered into the manga café he had visited a few times before.
Standing outside, he hesitated, wondering if the girl he had met there before might still be inside.
"It's around her break time," he thought. "But I don't know if she's working today."
After standing at the entrance for a moment, he stepped inside the shop. Without renting a private room, he simply paid for access to the general hall, picked a quiet corner, and selected two manga volumes to read quietly.
By the time noon arrived, it was about the right time. In the afternoon, he planned to head straight to the publisher. Once the discussions were settled, he could go home and rest while waiting for news about the release.
No... there will probably be a lot more negotiations after that, he thought to himself.
Glancing at the manga in his hands—stories related to the manga industry—he couldn't help but start drawing parallels to his own publishing journey. He closed his eyes in thought.
"Um... excuse me, Miyamizu-kun?"
A girl's voice sounded by his ear. Haruto slowly opened his eyes and found a familiar figure standing before him.
Mito Yuka.
The girl who had inspired him—the model for one of his characters.
"Ah, Mito-san, right?"
"Just call me Yuka. I didn't expect to run into you here, Miyamizu-kun."
Seeing her again caught Haruto off guard. He had only come here on a whim, hoping to get lucky, and somehow, he actually bumped into her.
He closed the manga in his hand with a casual motion, a faint smile appearing on his face as he looked at her.
"I'm surprised too. Honestly, I just thought I'd try my luck. Didn't think I'd really see you again."
"You were looking for me?"
"Kind of. I didn't know anything about you, not even how to find you, so I figured I'd just come by and see. You don't look like you got much sleep last night, though."
The heavy dark circles under her eyes caught Haruto's attention.
"It's because of my night shifts," Yuka said with a small, tired laugh. "My main job doesn't pay enough, so I picked up a few side jobs. I even considered... selling my body, but after meeting you the other day, I gave up on that idea."
The long-haired girl moved closer to him.
"Mind if I sit here?"
"Of course not."
Since Haruto didn't object, Yuka smiled and sat down beside him, keeping a small but careful distance between them. Sitting next to him, she felt her whole body relax slightly, a rare feeling of peace she hadn't experienced in a long time.
"Are you off today too?" she asked.
"Yeah, just wandering around by myself. Didn't have anything particular to do, so I came here to kill time."
"Manga, huh?"
"I didn't know what to pick, so I just grabbed two volumes at random. Have you read these before?"
"Not really. I don't have much time to read manga. When I do, it's usually shoujo manga," she said, glancing at the volumes Haruto had chosen. They looked vaguely familiar to her, but she hadn't read them herself.
"They're manga about making manga. Pretty technical stuff. If someone's interested in the industry, they're a good read."
"Are you interested in the manga industry, Miyamizu-kun?"
Yuka seemed a little surprised by his explanation, glancing at him curiously.
"Manga? Not really," Haruto admitted. "I've learned some basics, but I'm not particularly talented. Becoming a mangaka, or working in the industry... it doesn't seem very realistic for me. For now, I'm still just a student. The future... well, that depends."
"The future, huh..."
Once, when she was still in elementary and middle school, Yuka might have looked forward to the future too. Back then, she didn't understand why so many people around her gave up on their dreams, why so many seemed so numb and grounded in harsh reality.
It wasn't until her family's situation crumbled—until her parents, crushed by financial pressure, chose to end their own lives—that she realized how fragile everything really was. Struggling to survive alone, she finally understood that life wasn't smooth or simple, not at all like she once imagined.
Under all that crushing pressure, even the act of "thinking about the future" became a luxury she could barely afford. She knew better than anyone that her body wouldn't last if she kept living like this.
But still...
"Will you be coming here often from now on?" Haruto asked.
"Hm?"
Yuka looked confused by the sudden question, but she smiled a little and answered.
"I'm always around here. I don't really have anywhere else to go."
"I've got some things coming up soon," Haruto said thoughtfully, "and I might be able to help you a little. But I don't know how to get in touch."
"Room 106. That's my 'home.' If you need me, just knock. If I'm there, I'll answer~"
"Got it."
Haruto made a mental note of her room number. They kept chatting after that, about the manga here, about school—carefully avoiding the heavier topic of daily life struggles.
When lunchtime came, Yuka insisted he order something, saying she'd treat him.
Haruto had initially planned to refuse, but when he saw her smiling, he paused, then smiled back and ordered a simple curry. They shared lunch together, side by side.
Afterwards, since he needed to go sign his contract, he said his goodbyes to Yuka and headed toward the publisher's office.
When he arrived and mentioned Mari Kazaoka's name, he was led straight back to the same meeting room as yesterday...
(Image: Kazamiori Mari.)