When Ren finished signing the contract, Miyuki went back to flipping through the documents and looked up, as if something had just occurred to her.
"By the way, if your novel is serialized in a magazine, do you want to use your real name or a pseudonym as the author?"
Ren tilted his head, surprised by the question.
"Is there any difference?"
"Of course. If you use your real name, 'Ren Yamamoto,' readers will basically know from the name that the novel was written by a man, which will cause other problems. After all, more than 70% of the readers of Momentary Blossoms magazine are women. Many people may unconsciously think that a novel written by a man for young women must be of low quality just because the author is a man."
Ren immediately understood what Miyuki meant. In the merged memories of online romance novels in the parallel world, if a male author wrote a palace intrigue novel focusing on female characters, or a female author wrote a harem novel focusing on male characters, unless the author had previous success with similar novels, most readers would immediately question the author's ability to write well about a theme that wasn't so natural to them.
He thought for a few seconds upon hearing this. It wasn't a big problem, but since Miyuki had mentioned it, it was simply a matter of choosing a pseudonym.
After a brief consideration, Ren said,
"In that case, for the author's attribution, we won't use my real name. We'll use my pseudonym: Mizuki Ito. Mizuki as in hope, Ito as in wisteria."
The reason, however, was personal. For him, Mizuki Ito wasn't just a signature. It was… a way to let the girl whose soul had merged with his memory have a trace in this world.
Miyuki repeated the name in a low voice, testing the sound.
"Mizuki Ito…" she smiled slightly. "It's alright. At first glance, the pseudonym seems a little feminine, but, upon closer analysis, it's not unacceptable for a male creator to use it. If you become famous in the future, your fans won't accuse Red Violet Literature of colluding to deceive them. So, it's decided."
She adjusted the papers, satisfied. But then her gaze became more serious.
"Since the signing went well, I have one more piece of advice for you. According to the schedule, the first chapter of 'Ao Haru Ride' will be published in two weeks, on Wednesday…"
Miyuki leaned back in her chair, relaxed. Although she was thin, her posture was very serious at that moment.
"Serialization is only the first step; after that, the publisher will track the novel's popularity with each edition. If the popularity remains low…" Her gaze sharpened.
"Novels can be canceled by publishers. The reason there are openings for serialization in 'Momentary Blossoms' is that two novels that were serialized in this magazine for a month consistently ranked among the lowest in popularity and were canceled by the publisher. The light novel industry is very cruel."
Silence filled the room.
"Understood," Ren said solemnly, then stood up and left.
That night, he tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep.
Before signing the contract, he had considered serializing the novel first, but now, after signing it, the pressure of serialization was overwhelming.
Of course, it wasn't that the six thousand yen per chapter was a very high amount.
It was that, as a student, after interacting with people in society for the first time, he had begun to understand a little about what responsibility meant.
He had only known Miyuki Hime for a week, and their conversations lasted less than three hours, but she had been working tirelessly at Red Violet Literature to secure a serial publication opportunity for him.
Ren couldn't see the magazine's readers in person, so he couldn't know what they thought of "Ao Haru Ride." Was it good? Bad? Surprising? Or indifferent?
As an "adapter," and not the original creator, Ren had no real sense of these feelings.
But Miyuki… she was real. Flesh and blood. And she had believed in him.
After leaving the publishing house during the day, anxiety about how to write the second part of the "Ao Haru Ride" story and how to deliver a complete manuscript consumed him.
He didn't want the novel to be serialized and miss the deadline, resulting in a discontinued and unfinished story, making Miyuki, who had strongly supported its serialization, the scapegoat within Red Violet.
He needed to find a way to stop the random jumps in his memory fragments. A person's memories are so long; with these random jumps, when would he be able to write the second part of the "Ao Haru Ride" story?
Ren fell asleep at two in the morning with these thoughts in mind.
It seemed like only an instant.
The familiar feeling hit him: he was once again diving into Mizuki Ito's memories.
But this time, something was different.
The memory wasn't confused, nor chaotic. It didn't jump through meaningless fragments.
His memory jumped precisely and without error to the crucial point.
That is, the place where the sixth episode of "Ao Haru Ride" was interrupted during its broadcast.
Ren's heart leaped, and he immediately concentrated intensely, activating his memory tracking mode.
He held the memory firmly, like someone preparing to watch a pivotal episode of a series.
In her fragmented memory, Mizuki, in that world, only reconnected to that part of the story several days later. The room was equally dimly lit, with snacks readily available.
And then the scene began.
["If he gets off the train, I'll still like him. If he doesn't… I give up."]
Futaba's soft voice echoed in the background, accompanied by the melancholic soundtrack that made the air seem denser.
Since the experience of watching the anime was shared with Ren to some extent, he could feel the emotional impact and the palpitation in Mizuki's heart as she watched this scene.
And there was something curious: for the first time, Ren wasn't just "watching for her."
He was also captivated by this scene. The girls' thought processes are truly incredible.
She had arranged to take the bus home with someone, but on the way, since her friend liked Kou, she seemed conflicted about whether she should continue liking him. Unable to reach a conclusion, she had this idea.
She inexplicably says she has something to do, inexplicably says she's getting off the train, and then decides the fate of their relationship, leaving the male protagonist, Kou, with the responsibility of ignoring everything and following her on the last train home.
Will Kou get off the train after her or not?
It was irrational, unpredictable… and yet it made sense, in that way of thinking so typical of teenage emotions.
Perhaps that's why men can't write excellent romances for young girls.
How could a normal man guess the female protagonist, Futaba's, state of mind at this point in the anime?
["If he doesn't get off, I give up."]
["If he gets off, I'll still like him."]
In the anime, the girl's repeated internal monologues, along with the soft background music, intensify the tension of the scene and bring Futaba's inner turmoil and panic to its peak.
The train station at dusk, the boy and girl looking at each other through the train doors, and the doors beginning to close.
[Get off… please, get off…]
Futaba closes her eyes, lowers her head, and silently screams in her heart.
A fleeting thought in her mind at that crucial moment revealed the ending Futaba had hoped for.
The wind blown by the departing train ruffled her hair. As the anime's background music reached its most beautiful melody, Futaba looked up.
The orange glow of the sunset adorned the boy's back; Before her stood Kou, calm, handsome, and watching her intently.
He hadn't bothered to take the train home alone; instead, without knowing what would happen, at the last moment before the doors closed, he jumped off the train, choosing to stay by Futaba's side.
"Did you forget something? I'll go with you," the young man said gently, without showing impatience.
The afternoon light bathed her back, her expression serene, her gaze firm. He had gotten off. At the last moment. Without knowing anything. Without hesitation.
This scene left Mizuki stunned; a feminine emotion overwhelmed her, almost making her cry.
Ren, who was immersed in his memories, was also stunned.
Because he discovered a fact. Regardless of Mizuki's emotional interference, purely due to his own most intense feelings:
He too was moved by the plot, completely captivated by the scene.
Having never read a romance novel before, he was moved by the story of this coming-of-age tale. It turns out that boys, when faced with excellent romance novels, can also have their feminine hearts overflowing.
Before, he didn't understand why so many boys watched palace dramas with such pleasure, thinking those people were crazy.
Now, Ren understood a little better.
Good works transcend genre.
End of chapter 12