— — — — — —
After fiercely condemning a certain shut-in novelist in private chat, Oikawa turned his attention back to the group conversation.
In just a short while, the discussion had completely left him behind.
He stared at the 99+ unread messages and could only sigh.
Scrolling up, he found the source of the explosion: a single message from the group admin.
"Reliable sources say there's a dark horse in this year's Dengeki Prize. Not long after the first-round screening, it was basically locked in for the Grand Prize. Apparently it's even a healing-type light novel."
"The editors at Dengeki are giving it extremely high praise. Projected sales are over 300,000 copies."
"Looks like the light novel world's about to welcome another rising star."
The chat instantly erupted.
"I trust Dengeki's editorial eye. The last Grand Prize winner, The Many Sides of Voice Actor Radio, sold great."
"Why can't that Grand Prize debut be me?"
"Yeah, if someone's destined to succeed, why can't it be me?!"
"Admin, that's cruel. I was just celebrating my Kadokawa first-round pass. Why'd you have to tell me this?!"
"A healing-type novel? Hasn't been one of those winning the Grand Prize in years…"
In the public imagination, only tragic endings left lasting impressions.
Healing stories definitely had an audience.
But most of them were like candy. Sweet while you were eating them, pleasant in the moment, and forgotten soon after.
A tragic novel was more like a blade slicing open your skin.
Even after the wound healed, the scar would ache when you looked at it.
That was why major awards rarely went to pure healing stories.
These prizes valued depth over marketability.
And now people were being told that this year's Dengeki Grand Prize might go to a healing novel.
Of course they were shocked.
"Wait, isn't Your Lie in April from our group also a healing story?"
"No clue. The author hasn't said anything."
"If that's true, wouldn't he be the first Grand Prize debut from our group?"
"Oh my god, imagine knowing a Grand Prize winner personally."
"Can I get an autograph in advance?"
Oikawa's expression turned complicated.
If he hadn't put his phone on silent earlier, the constant @ notifications would've blown it up by now.
Still, doubt crept in.
Was that "healing-type Grand Prize winner" actually him?
He pondered.
Then a strange smile slowly spread across his face.
Your Lie in April was a short light novel, two volumes total, under 300,000 words.
What would people's faces look like when Volume Two released and they realized it wasn't a healing story at all?
It was a depression story.
The purest kind.
Oikawa couldn't help snickering.
Kawasaki, who was busy solving math problems, glanced back at him.
"Idiot," she muttered softly.
Oikawa shot her a look and pretended not to hear.
When the book came out, he was definitely gifting her a copy.
Lure her in.
Then stab her in the heart.
He'd squeeze every tear out of her.
Imagining Kawasaki showing up to school with red, swollen eyes after crying all night made him grin even wider.
---
Dengeki Bunko – Editorial Conference Room
The editors were gathered to finalize this year's Dengeki Prize awards.
"All other works have been decided," one editor said. "The only one left is Your Lie in April."
"Some believe it should receive the Gold Prize. Others think it deserves the Grand Prize."
"Let's hold one final discussion before voting."
At the head of the table, the editor-in-chief gestured for them to begin.
Dengeki Bunko maintained a fairly democratic work environment. Decisions weren't dictated unilaterally.
After a moment, an older editor stood up.
"I still believe it belongs in the Gold Prize category. Historically, Dengeki's tradition has been to reward works with profound thematic depth."
"Stories that linger. Stories that leave something behind."
"Healing novels bring temporary joy. But they don't necessarily stay with the reader."
Ayame Kagurazaka rose to her feet, "I disagree. It should be the Grand Prize."
Her voice was steady and firm. "And not because 'Copycat Transmigrator' might become my author. I'm saying this because the work truly deserves it."
"Look at the past Grand Prize winners. The Many Sides of Voice Actor Radio. 86: Eighty-Six. I Want to Eat Your Pancreas."
"In terms of prose, characterization, and narrative structure, Your Lie in April is no weaker than any of them. In some respects, it even surpasses them."
"We shouldn't deduct points simply because it doesn't end in tragedy."
"And as far as I know, multiple imprints have already extended offers to Copycat Transmigrator."
The room filled with quiet murmurs.
Her argument carried weight, especially with those comparisons.
The editor-in-chief smiled.
"If there are no further comments, we'll vote."
Ballots were placed before each editor.
This process was routine.
They made their selections and handed them in.
No suspense.
The editor-in-chief counted quickly.
"Grand Prize: six votes. Gold Prize: three votes. Abstentions: two."
"It's decided. Your Lie in April by Copycat Transmigrator will receive this year's Grand Prize."
Ayame Kagurazaka clenched her fist in triumph.
.
.
.