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The afternoon sun slanted through the windows of Toyonosaki Academy, casting long, dusty beams of light across the linoleum floors. Leo didn't rush to leave. The pieces were all in play; it was time to put them on the same board.
He sent a message to the group chat he'd created earlier. [Meeting in the AV Room. 10 minutes.]
When Leo and Kato Megumi slid the door open, the room was quiet. Dust motes danced in the silence. In the corner, bathed in the golden hour light, sat Kasumigaoka Utaha. She was reading a paperback, her legs crossed elegantly, looking every bit the literary beauty.
"Senior," Leo announced his presence, dropping his heavy laptop bag onto a desk. "I didn't expect you to beat us here."
Utaha lowered her book, her wine-red eyes landing on Leo with a mixture of warmth and curiosity. Then, her gaze shifted slightly to the side, and her brow furrowed.
"Leo-kun," she said, her voice smooth. "Who is this?"
Leo gestured to the girl standing quietly at his elbow. "This is Kato Megumi. She's in Tomoya's class. She's our fifth member."
"Fifth member?" Utaha looked directly at Megumi, her eyes narrowing as if trying to bring a blurry image into focus. "I... I honestly didn't see her come in. I only noticed her after you pointed her out. What is this? Ninjutsu?"
Megumi stood there, hands clasped in front of her skirt, her expression perfectly neutral.
"I'm not a ninja, Senpai," Megumi said, her voice soft and flat. "My presence is just... faint. It's normal that you didn't notice me. Actually, it happens a lot. People bump into me, teachers mark me absent when I'm sitting in the front row... It's kind of a passive invisibility. But I'm glad you finally saw me."
Utaha stared at her, genuinely astonished. As a writer, she collected oddities and character quirks, but this was on another level. It reminded her of a story she'd read about a Polish woman named Barbara who had survived 127 brushes with death—plane crashes, gas explosions, sinking ships. That woman had a constitution that attracted death. This girl? She had a constitution that repelled attention.
It's an anti-attribute, Utaha thought, fascinated. She's a blank canvas.
Megumi pulled out a chair and sat down next to Leo. It was a natural instinct—in a room of strangers, you gravitate toward the one person you know. She sat close, their arms almost brushing.
Utaha's fascination instantly curdled into something else. A sharp pang of jealousy pricked her chest. She watched the "invisible" girl settling into Leo's orbit with a frown she couldn't quite hide.
Just then, the door banged open.
"We're here!"
Aki Tomoya burst in, flushed and energetic, dragging a reluctant Eriri Spencer Sawamura behind him.
"Good, everyone's present," Leo said, clapping his hands together. "The Game Development Circle—officially unnamed—is now in session."
Tomoya looked around the room, counting heads. "You actually found a fifth member! Good job, Leo!" He looked at Megumi. "Oh, hey, Kato. I didn't see you there."
"I've been here the whole time, Aki-kun," Megumi said blandly.
"Right, right," Tomoya brushed past it, vibrating with excitement. "So, we have the room! We have the members! We can finally start!"
"Before we start grinding," Leo interrupted, leaning back against a desk. "I'm treating everyone to dinner. Conveyor belt sushi. All you can eat."
Tomoya's eyes widened, but then he frowned responsibly. "Leo-kun... you're doing it again. Just because you have ten million yen in funding doesn't mean you should burn it on sushi. We need that for software licenses and—"
"Relax, Tomoya," Leo laughed. "This isn't coming out of the game budget. It's my personal treat. But before we eat, I have a quick errand to run. I have a contract signing at a coffee shop nearby. You guys are coming with me."
"Contract signing?" Tomoya blinked. "For what? Did you buy a company?"
"No," Leo grinned, enjoying the moment. "I'm signing a publishing deal with Shinazugawa Bunko. I wrote a light novel."
The room went silent.
Eriri's jaw dropped. Utaha smirked, knowing the secret already. Tomoya looked like his brain had short-circuited.
"You... wrote a light novel?" Tomoya stammered. "And you're signing a deal? Already? Why didn't you tell me?!"
"Surprise," Leo said. "Consider the sushi a celebration. Now, let's go. My editors are waiting."
The Coffee Shop.
The group moved to a stylish café in the nearby shopping district. Through the glass front, Leo spotted them immediately—Machida Sonoko and Kawada Yuichiro were seated at a large booth, accompanied by a younger woman in office attire who looked like a legal assistant.
Leo waved as he entered. "Hey, everyone. Sorry to keep you waiting."
"Leo-sensei!" Kawada stood up immediately, beaming like a proud uncle. "Right on time."
Leo directed the "kids"—Tomoya, Eriri, Utaha, and Megumi—to a nearby booth. "Order whatever you want. Drinks, cakes, it's on me. Just give me ten minutes to handle business."
He sat down opposite Machida and Kawada. The legal assistant, a pretty woman who would turn heads in any office, slid a thick folder across the table.
"Please review the contract, Sensei," she said professionally. "There are three copies. One for you, one for the library, and one for the legal archives. If you have any questions, I'm here to clarify."
Leo took a pen, clicked it, and opened the folder.
He didn't just sign. He read.
Having experienced the chaotic, predatory world of Chinese web novel contracts in his past life—where platforms treated authors like indentured servants and claimed ownership of everything from the copyright to the author's soul—Leo was naturally cautious.
But as he scanned the terms, he relaxed. The Japanese light novel industry, for all its fierce competition, was surprisingly fair.
Royalty Rate: 15% (An exceptional rate for a newcomer).
Copyright: Retained by the author.
Media Rights: Anime adaptations, merchandise, and audio dramas required separate consent and offered substantial profit sharing.
Advance: Generous.
It was a clean contract. Shinazugawa was desperate, and they had offered him the crown jewels to secure his loyalty.
"No objections," Leo said, flipping to the final page. "The terms are fair."
He signed his name—Leo Vance—with a flourish on all three copies.
As the legal assistant gathered the papers, Leo capped his pen and looked at Kawada.
"One more thing, Chief," Leo said, his tone shifting from legal to creative. "I noticed the clause about the illustrator. The publisher usually assigns one."
"Yes," Kawada nodded enthusiastically. "We have a shortlist of top-tier artists we can contact! We want the best packaging for your debut."
"Scrap the list," Leo said calmly. "I don't need an illustrator."
Kawada and Machida exchanged confused looks. "Sensei? A light novel without illustrations is..."
"I'll do the illustrations myself," Leo stated.
Machida blinked. "You? But Leo-kun, writing and illustrating is a massive workload. And illustration requires a completely different skill set. We need professional quality to—"
Leo reached into his bag and pulled out a single sheet of paper. It was the color sketch he had drawn in class—the one that had hooked Tomoya. He slid it across the table.
"This is the style I'm going for," Leo said.
Machida picked up the drawing. Her eyes widened. Kawada leaned in, adjusting his glasses. The art was breathtaking—vibrant, detailed, and possessing a lighting quality that looked almost cinematic.
"This..." Kawada breathed. "You drew this?"
"I told you," Leo smiled, leaning back. "I'm a triple threat. Why hire an outsider when I can ensure the vision is perfect myself?"
He looked over at the other booth, where Eriri was glaring at him, trying to eavesdrop.
Internal Monologue: Besides, if I do my own art, I control the entire IP. And nothing sells a genius narrative like a kid who can do it all.
"Okay," Machida said, looking at the drawing with renewed awe. "You do the art. We'll amend the contract to include the illustrator fees on top of your royalties."
"Pleasure doing business with you," Leo said.