"Shiori?"
The voice came first in a normal, almost affectionate tone, like someone calling to someone distracted in front of a shop window. "Shiori?"
Silence.
Miyuki narrowed her eyes, placed her hands on her hips, and finally let out a cry with the authority of an editor and the impatience of someone who had seen this kind of daydream happen a thousand times:
"SHIORI HARUKI!" Miyuki called her several times before she finally awoke from her reverie.
Only then did Shiori blink, as if emerging from underwater. Miyuki knew that novelists loved to daydream, sometimes spending an hour or two absorbed in thought, but someone as focused as Shiori was rare.
The girl seemed to lock herself inside with a key, and only came back when someone knocked hard enough.
"Sorry." Shiori blushed slightly, but her expression quickly changed, soon returning to her usual quiet and distant demeanor.
Ren observed the scene with a strange expression, as if he were watching a rare creature stumble and then pretend it never fell.
In recent months, the image he had of her, the "report card goddess," the perfect student with an untouchable aura, had shattered into pieces. And, honestly, that wasn't a bad thing.
Compared to her distant image at school, her occasional displays of cuteness and naiveté made her even more captivating.
Miyuki tapped the sheets of paper with notes once on her own knee, as if closing a chapter.
"Alright, I've explained the situation to you. Based on the estimated number of chapters, the publisher will receive the complete manuscripts of 'Ao Haru Ride' and 'The Light of Yesterday's Stars' in about two weeks," Miyuki said in a grave voice.
She looked at the two of them with the seriousness of people who weren't just going through the motions.
"The completion of these two novels is only the beginning of your careers as light novel authors! Don't be arrogant, but don't be impatient either. The 'Rise of the New God' event is just a goal set by the publisher; you don't necessarily need to achieve it."
"But creating an excellent novel that can be selected for 'Red Violet' magazine is a step you, as light novel authors, should take. Work hard!"
In her view, as long as Ren and Shiori got an opportunity for early publication and participated in the "Rise of the New God" competition, allowing their works to be presented to readers across the country, that would be a great victory. As for the results, she didn't care.
Shortly after, Ren said goodbye and went home and began to reflect on the information he had learned that night.
The neighborhood was silent, the damp winter street reflecting streetlights like bright scars on the asphalt. The cold lightly bit the tip of his nose, and for some reason, it helped him think more clearly.
In fact, since he began serializing his novel, he had gradually grown to enjoy this work.
In his room, he dropped his backpack in a corner, took off his coat, sat on the bed, and stared blankly for a while.
That night, everything Miyuki had said weighed heavily on him. It was like holding something precious and dangerous: the feeling that, suddenly, the world had opened a door bigger than he expected.
Although he wasn't the true original creator of the works, he was the first person in the world to have contact with these excellent works through fragments of memory.
Simply transmitting the excellence of these works to the vast anime and manga fandom through his writing already gave Ren immense satisfaction.
More than satisfactory, sometimes. It was like giving a gift to thousands of readers without them knowing it was a gift.
Besides, this work was also worthwhile. The money was a concrete peace of mind. Something that erases small fears and, at the same time, creates bigger ones.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
And there was still the bound volume, about to be released at the end of the month. Sales figures, royalties, all that stuff Miyuki always treated with caution, but which, deep down, could become a second wave of money.
For Miyuki, that was enough. If they made it into the selection process and appeared before the whole of Japan, it would already be a huge victory, a career milestone. She didn't seem to demand that they "win." She wanted them to exist on stage.
But Ren… couldn't think that way. Upon learning of such an event, he felt an inexplicable agitation within himself.
If he managed to secure a spot in the "Rise of the New God" contest, he would need to accomplish something extraordinary in the selection process. The problem was that, although Ren had high ambitions, his mind was completely blank.
To actually participate in the "Rise of the New God" contest, he needed to produce at least two works of exceptional quality in the next six months.
One of them needed to be serialized in the magazine 'Red Violet' and achieve extraordinary results. This would significantly improve Ren's serialization record, thus guaranteeing him a spot.
The second, of course, was a novel serialized in 'Rise of the New God' after securing a spot. It had to be so excellent that it would win the hearts of most anime and manga fans; otherwise, he could forget any possibility of success.
Two stories.
But Mizuki's fragmented memories inside his head didn't follow a schedule. Sometimes they came clearly, with complete scenes and ready emotion. Sometimes they were just disconnected flashes, like snippets of a dream that dissolves upon waking.
Before, under pressure, he had managed to "pull" the content of the final half of 'Ao Haru Ride' more firmly, as if urgency had organized the fragments on its own.
But now… There's no pressure at all.
He looked at the ceiling and gave a humorless laugh.
Ren sighed. His royalties, due to the growing popularity of "Ao Haru Ride," had risen to 13,000 yen per edition.
He could roughly predict that after completing the fourteen chapters of "Ao Haru Ride," his total royalties would exceed 150,000 yen.
Furthermore, the single volume would be released at the end of the month, and based on experience, the royalties for that volume would certainly be higher than his own.
Ren's financial pressure had disappeared. As for academic pressure, of course not. What academic pressure could a lazybones like him possibly have?
And, as absurd as this might seem to any normal person, it was the kind of frustration that gnawed at him: he wanted to see more. He wanted a new story. Anything. A romance, an adventure, a comedy, a tragedy, as long as it was good enough to become work material.
He wanted something that would make him get out of bed and say, "That's it."
But life didn't work like a menu. Ren sighed again, deeply.
"Anything will do, any excellent anime or manga, anything works, as long as it motivates you to publish your work in Red Violet magazine."
But the reality is that this kind of "watching anime after bed" is pure luck.
"(Sigh), life isn't always a bed of roses. Maybe one day I'll encounter some problem, some sudden pressure, and that very night my wishes will come true, bringing to light those fragments of memories that interest me?"
He paused, feeling his own thought sound ridiculous. What kind of person hopes to have problems just to work better?
Humans, always so sentimental.
That same night, elsewhere in the city, a room too large for one person remained awake. Shiori lay there, but she wasn't sleeping.
'The Light of Yesterday's Stars' was already planned; all that remained was to put the story into words. She couldn't sleep because she was contemplating the direction of her new work.
She didn't care so much about 'The Rise of the New God' itself. If the publishing world invented another event with another name, she would feel the same indifference. But if Ren's work was selected, then she absolutely couldn't be left behind.
It wasn't about status. It was about not admitting defeat in that universe she loved. The girl couldn't sleep, constantly encouraging herself with renewed vigor and courage in bed.
She needed to choose a direction. An idea. A tone. A "hook" that wasn't just good, but irresistible, something that would cut through the air and pierce Ren's name like a blade.
Shiori turned to her side, restless, and whispered words to herself as if she were in a private war.
Time passed, another week went by, and chapters six and seven of the romance novel "Ao Haru Ride" were published.
The rumor became certainty, as always happens with stories that captivate audiences: the plot followed what most readers already suspected, but this didn't diminish the impact because, in romance stories, it's not the "what" that destroys or saves. It's the "how."
Yuri truly fell in love with Kou because of his act of kindness in helping her.
During her daily conversations with Futaba at school, she constantly asked about Kou and confided her feelings to her "best friend," Futaba.
And Futaba, who should have been just the friend, was caught in a dilemma between her love for Kou and her friendship with Yuri.
The plot was, in fact, quite simple, but generally, the plots of any romance novel are quite simple.
In one particular passage, Yuri finally poured her heart out, without realizing she was handing a bomb to the wrong person. She said, with almost childlike honesty, that she liked Kou.
And she said this looking at Futaba as if Futaba were the safest place in the world.
And Futaba… smiled. But inside, something broke.
There, the romance showed its cruelest side: it wasn't a love triangle made of "villains" and "heroes." It was a choice between love and friendship, and either path seemed to carry guilt.
However, the key to creating a brilliant work in this genre lies in the character development and the details. In these two chapters, Futaba's conflicted personality and her struggle between love and friendship are subtly conveyed to the audience through delicate and gentle prose.
The internal conflict that would normally only be found in the heroine of a romance now resonates with the readers.
Fan discussions about the plot are heated, and naturally, reader votes for "Ao Haru Ride" are also increasing. The internet has begun to dissect every phrase, every gesture, every described look, as if the chapters were clues to an emotional crime.
And, along with the discussion, the votes have risen.
During the serialization of Chapter Six, "Ao Haru Ride" narrowly lost to "The Day of Farewell" by two hundred votes in the fan voting ranking.
That week, the difference was small, a close defeat, almost like a "not yet."
However, after the magazine containing Chapter Seven of "Ao Haru Ride" was released, this work, which had occupied first place in the popularity polls for twenty consecutive issues of "Momentary Blossoms," lost its crown this week, falling to second place.
The numbers spoke for themselves.
Chapter Seven of "Ao Haru Ride" garnered 6531 fan votes and a 9.4 rating, securing first place in both categories without any controversy.
In the Red Violet editorial office, many were already expecting it. When a work had that quality, remaining in second place was only a matter of time. The top spot, in that type of magazine, wasn't a given; it was simply inevitable.
Most of the editors at the publishing house had already predicted this result and weren't surprised.
Even Ayame, upon discovering that her twenty-issue reign had ended, took only half an hour to recover after learning that her work, which had held first place for twenty issues, had been surpassed.
Of course, an interesting piece of news circulated within the Red Violet Literature editorial office.
It was said that what upset Ayame most wasn't the loss of her ranking position, but rather the fact that the author of "Ao Haru Ride" was supposedly a man, a revelation that truly perplexed her.
How so? She, a woman writing school romance novels for girls, had been surpassed by a high school boy?
The idea seemed absurd enough to become an inside joke. So, she couldn't even write a romance with a male protagonist anymore?
On the Red Violet Literature website, the official forum for the "Momentary Blossoms" magazine even posted a celebratory message. It was an elegant way to channel the euphoria and also keep the traffic flowing, because the market knew how to transform emotion into numbers with impressive efficiency.
In the comments, fans exploded in all sorts of reactions.
There was pure celebration:
"Number one! Reason to celebrate! 'Momentary Blossoms' finally reached first place in both metrics!"
"It took seven chapters to reach the top, it wasn't easy!"
"Especially since it took a while for readers of other 'Momentary Blossoms' works to migrate, there's nothing we can do about it."
"But more than reaching the top, I'm looking forward to the plot's development! I have a feeling... that the final chapters will be a little moving."
"Don't worry, Miss Mizuki wouldn't do anything reckless, perhaps."
"But she's still just a high school student! Okay..."
"I'm afraid the plot will fall apart. But, for now, I can only give all my support to this wonderful novel."
"Now is when we have to support it. My vote is all for 'Ao Haru Ride'."
"She and Daiki are both students at Minami High School, maybe even best friends! Think about it, how could someone like that create a plot where best friends destroy each other?"
And that's when the forum really caught fire. While half the people started defending Futaba tooth and nail, the other half began imposing conditions:
"Kou belongs to Futaba, nobody can take him from her, not even Yuri."
"Resist the protagonist's angelic attitude. If she even thinks about giving Kou to Yuri in the name of friendship, I'm putting the book down immediately."
"Me too."
"That's right, me too."
The thread turned into a chain of emotional threats and exaggerated promises. However, lost in the middle of it all, a small comment appeared, almost lost among the shouts, but it said something true:
"The problem isn't who ends up with whom. The problem is how this pain will be written."
Because the success of 'Ao Haru Ride' wasn't in the "triangle." It was in how the narrative placed the reader inside the dilemma, until the reader felt guilty for taking a side.
Somewhere in the city, Ren opened the forum on his phone, scrolled through the comments, and felt a strange tightness in his heart. He had reached the top, and that should be pure joy.
But the joy was mixed with something else. Because now everyone was watching, everyone was waiting. He turned off the screen, threw his phone aside, closed his eyes, and listened to his own thoughts as if they were an echo.
On the other side, in a large, silent house, Shiori was also reading.
And, as she read, the same feeling rose within her, not sadness, not anger… but combustion.
The race had truly begun.
End of Chapter 32