— — — — — —
FULL-DRIVE Bunko—
Chris Yamada scrolled through a writers' forum, his expression unusually serious.
Right now, the hottest topic on the forum was all about the second volume of Your Lie in April. The book had already been confirmed for release, yet there'd been zero promotion. That alone struck everyone as strange.
The most popular thread read:
{What's really behind the lack of promotion for Your Lie in April Vol. 2? Is there an irreparable conflict with Dengeki Bunko?}
The top comment was a long, detailed analysis.
["It's been over a month since the first volume of Your Lie in April came out. I'm sure most people on this forum bought it with a 'study the craft' mindset."]
["'Oikawa-sensei' is on another level—whether it's prose or character writing, most authors can't even compare. And from what I've heard, the first volume sold nearly 70,000 copies in its first month."]
["People outside the industry might not grasp how big that number is, but everyone here should. Your Lie in April absolutely has the potential to break a million copies."]
["So here's the question: just how bad could the second volume be for Dengeki Bunko to treat it like this?"]
["I don't think writing quality is the issue. The first volume already proved Oikawa-sensei's skill. Even if the second volume isn't as good, it shouldn't be unreadable."]
["Once you rule that out, things get clearer." "There are only two possible reasons for the cold treatment:"]
["① There's some kind of problem with the book itself—what exactly, we don't know yet."]
["② From what I've heard, Oikawa-sensei had a disagreement with Dengeki Bunko, mainly over the release timing of Volume 2."]
Chris read through the post, thoughtful.
He couldn't say anything about the first point, but the second matched what he'd heard from friends.
Apparently, the author wanted to release Volume 2 as soon as possible, while the editor-in-chief at Dengeki preferred to delay it and squeeze out maximum profit.
Chris didn't jump to conclusions. He kept reading.
["It's really weird. Your Lie in April could easily become the flagship title of a smaller label, yet Dengeki is treating it like this?"]
["Breaking news: Oikawa-sensei signed a betting agreement with Dengeki Bunko."]
["Huh? What kind of move is that? Guess that's what big publishers do. A smaller label would never dare treat Oikawa-sensei like this."]
["Maybe Dengeki just thinks authors should obey the publisher."]
["Didn't something similar happen a few years ago? An editor at Dengeki forced an author under him to write according to his ideas or he wouldn't publish the book."]
["Editors at big publishers really act like royalty, huh?"]
…
Before long, the thread derailed into speculation and complaints.
Chris stopped reading.
What occupied his mind now was something else entirely—whether he could use this opportunity to poach Oikawa from Dengeki.
The moment he first read Your Lie in April, he'd had a gut feeling: this author would become a new benchmark in the industry.
He didn't know what exactly had happened between Oikawa and Dengeki Bunko.
But even if there really was a problem with Volume 2, he was willing to take the gamble.
In the end, a writer stands or falls on the quality of their work.
Chris fell into deep thought.
...
..
"Hmm..."
Oikawa couldn't help but think... High school students in Japan really had it easy.
Even at a relatively high-ranking school like Sobu High, it was the same.
Classes ended a little after four every day, more punctual than a full-time job.
He'd never once seen a teacher drag a class past the bell.
Apparently, it used to happen. But after someone reported it, it never happened again.
At first, Oikawa had his doubts. Then he heard it was the math teacher who got reported—and suddenly, it felt very believable.
Sometimes, near the end of class, Oikawa would wake up from a nap and actually listen for a few minutes.
More than once, the math teacher would be in the middle of an explanation, clearly wanting to keep going.
But the moment the bell rang, he'd stop immediately.
That kind of reflex didn't come out of nowhere.
Yeah… that story was probably true.
Being a good teacher wasn't easy either.
Besides the early dismissal time, Sobu High also had all kinds of clubs—like Oikawa's Literature Club.
Aside from sports teams, most clubs existed mainly to kill time.
Still, during certain events, they had to step up and contribute. Like the school festival.
Most Japanese high schools held their festivals in autumn, and they were a huge deal. Every class participated, and even people from outside the school would come to visit.
…And that was where things got weird.
The moment Oikawa thought about outsiders attending, he couldn't help but recall a certain "classic" anime.
The premise went something like this: Middle-aged men could attend the festival, buy special "tickets," and then… pick any girl in the school.
Honestly, the Japanese really do come up with some wild ideas. Just look at any recent h-anime and you can see how imaginative they are.
...
After a heated argument, Class 2-F finally decided to perform a musical adaptation of The Little Prince for the festival.
Someone had suggested running a maid café, which Oikawa actually thought was a pretty good idea.
And that, of course, reminded him of another h-anime.
Sigh.
It wasn't his fault he knew so much. If anything, it just proved how well hentai directors understood their audience.
But during the class debate, Ebina surprised everyone.
Usually quiet and reserved, she suddenly turned into a starving tigress, tearing apart everyone else's suggestions with relentless enthusiasm. By the end of it, she'd single-handedly pushed through the decision: a musical adaptation of The Little Prince.
Most people had at least heard of The Little Prince. It was a classic by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, widely loved and perfectly suited for a stage adaptation.
The only problem?
Ebina Hina would be writing the script.
Oikawa could already picture it; this was going to turn into a full-blown boys' love production.
He just hoped she wouldn't go as far as certain… directors.
"…If no one objects, then it's settled."
Seeing no one speak up, Hayama Hayato, the class representative, stood at the podium and asked for confirmation.
This was the third time he'd said it.
Oikawa could clearly see a trace of fear on Hayama's face. He probably knew exactly what kind of "fujoshi energy" Ebina was bringing to the table.
If she really took charge of the script, The Little Prince might turn into a disaster.
Hayama's pleading gaze swept across the classroom once more before landing on Oikawa.
No words, but the message was obvious: 'You're the Literature Club president. Do something!'
But no chance.
If he had to choose between being mildly disgusted and taking on that responsibility himself, he'd pick the former without hesitation.
Enthusiasm was fine in short bursts.
Sustaining it was another story.
At that moment, a girl finally raised her hand.
"This feels a little unreliable… Ebina, you're not going to add any… you know… BL elements, right?"
Clearly, she also knew Ebina well.
Whispers spread through the classroom.
Most of the boys had no idea what "BL" meant. Mention something like R-18, and they would recognize it—but this?
"BL means guys with guys."
Someone muttered the explanation.
The boys froze for a second… and then their expressions turned complicated.
Everyone had only one word to describe it… disgusting.
.
.
.