Not to mention the editor's private worries, Minamoto Senya himself was actually enjoying this dinner quite a bit.
The Japanese restaurant they had chosen used excellent ingredients, everything fresh, and the flavor was exceptional.
Especially the salt-grilled snow crab. The meat inside was tender and delicate, the savory aroma of salt blending perfectly with the crab's natural sweetness—a rich taste that lingered with every bite.
When Senya finished, he even ordered two extra portions to take home. He figured it'd be nice for his family to try it as well.
Once home, reheating it in the oven would be simple.
Despite polite refusals from the others, Senya insisted on paying the bill himself.
By the time the three of them left the restaurant, it was already past seven in the evening.
Senya and Kasumigaoka escorted the editor to a taxi.
This was when the little perks of being an editor became obvious. Claiming it as a "meeting with an author," she could submit certain transportation expenses to the company each month.
It was a perk she would have been foolish not to take advantage of—it saved her time and money.
After they watched the editor's cab disappear into the night, Senya tilted his head toward Kasumigaoka.
"Mind keeping me company a little longer?"
"Mhm."
As if she'd refuse!
The two strolled leisurely along the street, chatting idly.
"Utaha, you didn't look all that surprised earlier."
"What do you mean, Senya?"
"I mean when I suddenly said I was going to enter the Edogawa Ranpo Prize. I figured you'd react like the editor did and try to talk me out of it."
"To be honest, that was my first thought… but in the end, I kept it to myself."
"Oh?"
"Because looking at the past, Senya, your choices always turn out to be right."
"They do?"
"They do." Kasumigaoka extended her fingers one by one as she listed them. "For example—you chose to take up kendo, and immediately made a name for yourself by winning a championship. When no one in Japan even realized what was coming, you told me to remind my family to wear masks whenever we went out—and then that flu epidemic hit. Later, you started learning piano, and within no time at all you were already producing impressive results.
"All of those things together… do you know what that means?"
It means his "study fairies" were absurdly efficient…
Senya only shook his head.
Kasumigaoka smiled at him. "It means not only are you talented, but also that you seem to see the results of your decisions before you even make them—as though you're looking at the future itself. Since you're always so confident in your choices, it's only natural I'd believe in you without question."
So this was what they called a woman's sixth sense… sharp enough to be frightening.
"I'm really not as amazing as you're making me sound."
Utaha didn't reply. She only looked at him softly, her gaze unwavering. Even on a busy city street, it was as though her eyes could see no one else.
Senya thought, given this atmosphere, he could probably take her straight to a love hotel and convince her to call her parents to say she wasn't coming home tonight. She wouldn't resist.
Of course, Kasumigaoka Utaha wasn't that kind of girl. For that to happen, he'd have to take responsibility, move their relationship forward, and make promises. Only then might he have the chance to hold this alluring light novel author in his arms.
But according to his own decision, that wasn't an option right now.
Chasing fleeting desires like some playboy was easy.
But to nurture something that could last—a relationship that could endure for years, even a lifetime—that required far more thought.
For now, he had to continue to endure.
In the end, the place Senya led her was… a bookstore.
They stepped inside.
Kasumigaoka seemed to already guess what he had in mind.
Sure enough, after asking the staff where the mystery novels were shelved, Senya headed directly there and began pulling up a list of Edogawa Ranpo Prize winners on his phone.
Starting from last year and moving backward, he took five titles from the shelf.
Sharpening the axe didn't delay chopping wood—in fact, it made the work easier. He planned to spend the next two days finishing those books, to understand what the judges valued and what standards they used. Only then could he decide which of his works had the best chance of standing out.
Kasumigaoka mirrored him, picking up the same five books.
When Senya looked at her, she explained softly while holding the stack in her arms:
"I'll read them too, to get a feel for mystery novels. That way, maybe I can help you later. For example, you could focus on the story and character dialogue, and just make sure the logic is clear. Then I could take care of proofreading, descriptive passages, and filling in background details—just tell me the gist, and I'll polish it up."
What she described was, in fact, a real profession in the literary world—similar to manga assistants, but for prose. They were called proofreaders.
But usually, only successful authors who made good money could afford to hire such support.
Senya frowned slightly. "But you've got your own novel to work on, not to mention high school entrance exams coming up. You don't have time for this."
Kasumigaoka tilted her head. "Don't worry. I'm confident about Soubu High's exam. As for my novel, I've got a bit of a draft buffer, and the deadline's still a ways off. I don't need to rush."
Her words carried a simple, unmistakable message: I've decided. I want to help you.
A direct pitch—impossible to dodge. And when it came from someone this beautiful, how could he refuse?
Senya sighed. "Then I'll owe you a huge favor."
She smiled. "Compared to the help you gave me in the past, this is nothing."
With a skilled light novel author willingly joining in to support him, Senya's previously tight schedule suddenly felt much easier.
Time slipped forward to December 14th.
Sunday morning. The weather was perfect.
After breakfast, Mr. Sawamura grabbed his fishing rod and trudged out of the house, looking worn out.
To secure himself an undisturbed holiday, he had paid his price.
"Take care, dear! Drive safe~"
In contrast, Mrs. Sawamura, standing at the door to see him off, looked positively radiant.
Once he left, she stripped the sheets and blankets from the beds, washed them, and carried them to the yard to dry.
Back in the living room, she glanced at the breakfast she'd set aside for her daughter, wondering whether to bring it upstairs or let her come down herself.
Just then, the door upstairs flew open.
Eiri came rushing down, hair in disarray. She leapt onto the sofa, slammed the cushions a few times, then threw up her hands like a prisoner finally tasting freedom and shouted:
"It's over! Finally, it's all over!"
A whole month—it had been a nightmare!
A small indie game circle had lost their illustrator midway through development, so the client contacted her.
Eiri hadn't wanted to take the job, but the pay was too good to refuse—two million yen.
She'd wanted to use the money to treat everyone to a trip during Yukino's winter break—splurging without restraint, proudly declaring that Sawamura Eiri would foot the bill for everything.
So she had shut herself in her room, day and night, grinding away at the endless character art.
Only after the work began did she realize why the previous illustrator had quit.
The workload wasn't terrible, but the client was unbelievably demanding—and never gave all their requests at once. It was maddening.
But she endured. And today—it was finally over.
The payment had already been deposited. Two million yen. She was free!
Watching her daughter's triumphant pose, reminiscent of Andy Dufresne's prison break, Mrs. Sawamura held back a laugh and patted her head.
"Congratulations. Now rest a few days. But don't forget—you've got finals coming up. If you don't meet the standard we agreed on, you'll be spending your winter break in cram school."
"Yeah, yeah, don't worry!"
Compared to what she had just survived, a few exams were nothing.
After lunch, Eiri changed clothes and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" her mother asked.
"Senya's place."
"Hold it right there!"
"…What now?"
Mrs. Sawamura sighed, brushing her daughter's messy bangs aside. "You stayed up late last night, didn't you? At least take a bath before you go."
"Oh! Thanks, Mom!"
And off she ran toward the bathroom. Moments later, her voice echoed out:
"Mom, bring me fresh clothes and a towel!"
Mrs. Sawamura pinched her forehead and sighed.
Second year of middle school, and her daughter was still such a child. Nothing like her at all.
Around ten in the morning, Eiri rang the Minamoto household's doorbell.
Rikka answered, delighted to see her friend again. The two girls clasped hands like children and hopped playfully at the entryway before heading into the living room.
Today, Junko and little Chiyo had gone to the hospital for a checkup, with Toka accompanying them. They planned to stop by a beauty store afterward and eat lunch out, so they wouldn't be home until later.
That left only Rikka, Senya… and—
"Well, well. Long time no see, Sawamura-san."
On the sofa sat Kasumigaoka Utaha, breaking cookies into a tray to feed the black-winged bird.
"…L-long time no see."
Eiri forced a polite reply, but then froze.
Wait a second.
Why was this woman not in her trademark dress and black stockings—but instead wearing pale cotton pajamas?
Her wide eyes darted toward Rikka. She leaned close, whispering, "Why is she… why is she dressed like that?"
Rikka understood perfectly and explained: "Utaha-senpai's been staying with us the past few days."
"~" Utaha smiled sweetly at them—no, mainly at Eiri.
The revelation struck Eiri like a thunderbolt.
She's… she's moved in?Th-th-that means… living together?!
She immediately pulled Rikka a few steps away, toward the glass doors that opened onto the garden.
"What is going on?! Why is she suddenly living here?!"
"She's helping Senya with his novel. It's easier if she stays here."
"She could write at her own house, couldn't she? …Wait, what? Senya's writing a novel?!"
Rikka nodded. "Yep."
"How the heck did he suddenly decide that?"
"Senya's like that. Whenever he gets an idea or wants to try something new, it's never really surprising."
"Then why didn't you tell me?!"
Rikka raised her hands. "You were always exhausted from that illustration job, pulling all-nighters. I didn't want to bother you. And at school, you were napping through lunch most days. I never had the chance."
"…." Eiri was speechless. She couldn't even blame Rikka.
Even if she'd known, what difference would it have made?
If anything, that only made it feel worse.
Her spirits plummeted. The joy she'd felt about finishing her job and earning two million yen vanished completely.
"Eiri, it's been a while. Feels like you haven't been over in ages."
Senya came down the stairs, wearing pajamas himself, glasses resting on his nose. He looked different from usual—calm, intellectual, almost scholarly. His gentle charm radiated naturally.
"Rikka's heading to the supermarket later. If you want anything for lunch, tell her. I'll cook. I'll also invite Saeko over. It's been a while since we all got together."
"Mm-hm!"
Eiri smiled shyly, unable to hide it. She hadn't talked with her childhood friend face-to-face like this in ages.
"Go play with Rikka for a bit." After speaking with Eiri, Senya turned toward Utaha. "Utaha, let's head upstairs. There are some things I want to discuss."
Utaha dabbed her fingers with a tissue and stood, a little anxious. "Is there a problem with the parts I revised?"
"Not exactly a problem. Just my own thoughts. Flowery prose works for some genres, but I think with mystery novels it might not be ideal…"
"I see… when you put it that way, you may be right."
Still talking, the two of them headed upstairs together.
Eiri sat frozen, staring at their retreating backs.
She had earned money over the past month, yes. But deep inside, she felt as though she had missed out on something far more important.
..
Want to unlock up to 60+ early-access chapters and exclusive novels? Join my Patreon today and dive deeper into the adventure!
patreon.com/sabu19