The silence of Red Violet seemed even more expansive that early February morning. Drivers worked steadily against the wind blowing outside, bringing that characteristic winter scent on the road before the start of classes across the country.
Miyuki was sitting at her desk when she heard approaching footsteps, hurried, light, carefully calculated steps, like someone trying to appear firm and confident, but carrying an anxiety that slipped through their gait. She didn't need to look to know who it was.
"You came?" she said, raising her eyes.
The figure standing before her wore a cream-colored wool sweater and a blue briefcase pressed against her chest, conveying a timid air.
It was Shiori Haruki.
Shiori's arrival felt like an order to Miyuki. Yesterday, she had also arrived almost exactly after Ren Yamamoto. It was as if they shared an invisible clock, a parallel flow that brought them to Red Violet at absurdly synchronized intervals.
Yesterday: she finished revising Ren's manuscript. Half a minute later, Shiori walked through the door.
Today: Ren left the publishing house less than thirty seconds ago, and she appeared again.
Two students from the same high school, both from Minami High School. Two aspiring writers who didn't even know each other.
Miyuki pushed away these pointless thoughts. Wasting time on coincidences didn't fit into the morning's to-do list.
"Let's begin," she said, gesturing to the seat in front of her desk.
For most of the editors at the publishing house, in-person review was part of the routine. Rotating shifts were occasional: people arrived every day with manuscripts in hand, hoping for a stroke of luck. The truth was far less glamorous. In an entire week, if they found a truly promising manuscript, it was already cause for celebration.
Most sent them by mail. Not every aspiring author lived in the Southern Province, and even fewer had the time or courage to confront an editor.
But yesterday…
Miyuki had received two promising stories. The first was 'Ao Haru Ride' by Ren Yamamoto. The second, 'The Light of Yesterday's Stars' by Shiori Haruki.
Ao Haru Ride had a more solid structure, more natural dialogue, and characters with greater dramatic potential. It was the kind of text she could identify even with her eyes closed: it seemed to have been written by someone who truly lived what they were writing.
'The Light of Yesterday's Stars' had a charming atmosphere, despite some pacing weaknesses. And although I found the plot a little inferior to that of 'Ao Haru Ride', it was still a very interesting novel. Therefore, 'The Light of Yesterday's Stars' was one of the manuscripts Miyuki planned to submit for review at tomorrow's serialization meeting.
For this reason, she had asked Shiori to review certain details and return the next day.
And here she was, this time a conversation similar to the one she had with Ren.
"Did you make the revisions I asked for?" Miyuki quickly flipped through the first few pages. The paper had a fresh smell of recently printed ink. A sign that the girl had probably spent the night printing.
"Yes. I adjusted everything you mentioned yesterday," the girl replied, sitting down.
The conversation went almost the same way as Ren Yamamoto's earlier. That's because, deep down, they were both competing for the same space. Both manuscripts belonged to the same genre, fit into the same type of magazine, and would compete for the same place in the monthly publications.
The only difference was that Shiori wasn't as demanding as Ren. As long as her novel was approved at the serialization meeting, she had no objections, even if it was published in a magazine like Orange Heart, with only 30,000 to 40,000 copies sold.
And even then… they didn't even know about each other.
"So, I need to remind you that, although the outcome of the serialization meeting is still unknown, you need to be mentally prepared for both the possibility of your work being approved and the possibility of it not being. If it's not approved, adjust your opening and don't get discouraged. This happens to all beginning writers, even experienced authors."
Shiori nodded stiffly, her expression tense.
"But… if it passes, you also need to know that the responsibility increases. I can't allow a story to be approved and then interrupted due to a lack of chapters, slow writing, writer's block, or any other problem. I don't want to see your story become a case of abandonment, a poorly written ending, or the author's sudden disappearance. So, since there are still a few days before classes start, use this time. Plan what comes next. Structure everything you can while your routine is still calm," Miyuki said in a deep voice, her beautiful face full of seriousness.
Miyuki rarely used that stern tone, but she knew she needed to. She had seen many young people excited at the beginning and completely devastated after the first editorial request.
"I understand, thank you for the reminder, Editor Hime." Shiori's expression also became solemn.
After all, she was just a normal second-year high school student. Although beautiful, she had practically no social experience; writing novels was just a hobby and an ideal, something she did secretly, without her family's knowledge, bound between expectations and dreams she never dared to verbalize.
Faced with Miyuki's serious and sincere words, she felt pressured. It was a perfect recipe for insecurities.
Writer's block, delayed chapters, discouragement… Shiori wasn't sure if these problems would arise when she actually became a serialized light novel author.
She had spent only half a month working on the plot of the novel "The Light of Yesterday's Stars" up to the fourth chapter, and then mustered the courage to send it, but she wasn't sure if the subsequent development of the plot would suffer from the aforementioned problems.
Miyuki closed the manuscript lightly.
"And don't call me 'Editor Hime.' Nor 'senpai,' much less 'ma'am,' please. My name is just Miyuki. I'm only a few years older than you. Don't age me." Miyuki said, frowning.
Shiori blinked.
"You…?"
The plural had slipped out of the editor's speech minutes before, and only now did she realize it.
"You"? Who else could it be but "me"?
The memory came quickly: the boy in uniform who had passed her in the hallway yesterday. Determined eyes, firm steps, but a tired expression. She had bumped into him right at the door of the publishing house.
She remembered seeing the author's name on the first page of the work he had sent yesterday; it was Ren Yamamoto, wasn't it?
Classes start in two days. If he really is a classmate, she'll keep an eye on him after classes begin.
And that idea made her curiously nervous.
After all, writing romance novels was a closely guarded secret. As an exemplary daughter, a model student, and a role model among her relatives, Shiori never dared to admit that she spent hours imagining romantic scenes, complicated feelings, and fictional confessionals.
Creating stories about love, suffering, and adolescence was the exact opposite of the impeccable image her family projected onto her.
She didn't dare reveal what she liked, but discovering someone at her school doing the same thing inevitably gave her the feeling of having found a kindred spirit.
When Ren finally arrived home that late afternoon, he felt his shoulders relax.
It was as if, after entire days resolving details, revising chapters, gathering courage, and walking to the publisher, he had finally managed to breathe. A first step had been taken. The road was still long… but it had begun.
However, Miyuki's words echoed in his mind:
"Three chapters aren't enough. What comes after is what defines a series."
She was right. Approval depended on what was to come. The content of the plot that followed was key.
And he had no time to lose.
He dropped his backpack, went into his room, turned on the light, and sat down at the computer as if that were his true place in the world. The familiar keyboard under his fingers, the teacup on the table, the stack of drafts beside him: everything was in place.
He just needed to write.
Two days passed in a combination of silence, focus, and anxiety. Each hour seemed too long, each minute slower than it should be.
And then came February 5th. The day of the Red Violet Literature serialization meeting.
As always, Miyuki woke up before her alarm, quickly tying her hair up and putting on her favorite work suit: a black skirt, dark blue blazer, and white satin shirt. A simple combination, but one that conveyed professionalism. She wanted to enter that meeting room ready to defend each manuscript she had selected.
Therefore, she carefully placed the documents in a bag and left the apartment.
At the publisher's headquarters, the atmosphere was more tense than usual. Serialization meetings were fiercely contested. Those who usually chatted calmly in the hallways now carried folders tightly against their bodies, like soldiers ready for battle.
Which wasn't far from the truth; competition was inevitable. With everyone demonstrating their skills, each editor hoped their work would be successfully serialized in the publisher's magazine.
At nine o'clock sharp, all the editors entered the company's largest meeting room in a serious mood. A gigantic round table occupied the center, and each seat had organized stacks of manuscripts, labeled with names, numbers, and categories.
More than thirty works were on that month's list. Thirty stories filtered from hundreds sent by mail, email, or in person.
Red Violet Literature primarily published young adult novels. Sure, they accept all genres, but among the top five light novel publishers in Nancheng, Red Violet Literature has a clear advantage in terms of reputation for serializing young adult novels.
Every day, every week, Red Violet Literature receives a huge number of novel manuscripts, and the editors, upon receiving the works, can only select a few that they deem suitable for the serialization meeting. Given the limited time, they can only choose the best of the best, then the decision on whether to serialize a work is made by all the editors present and the editor-in-chief. Obviously, the final decision rests with the editor-in-chief; the other editors can only express their opinions, but the final decision is entirely hers.
Miyuki took a deep breath as she sat down. Before her were only two works to defend: Ao Haru Ride and 'The Light of Yesterday's Stars'.
Only one could be chosen to be included in that month's magazine.
At nine-ten, the door opened softly and Yuki Hashimoto, the editor-in-chief, entered.
She was in her forties, elegant and slender, but her perspicacity was evident in the glint in her eyes reflected behind her glasses. Dark hair pulled back in an impeccable bun, an analytical expression, and a striking presence enough to silence the entire room with a single movement.
She was elegant and intimidating.
And her word was law.
"Let's begin," she said, sitting down and lining up the papers in front of her.
Since Red Violet Literature receives many submissions of novels for young women, the company's editorial staff is predominantly female, representing about 60 to 70% of the workforce. When the serial publication meeting began, next to each editor's desk were stacks of carefully organized and fully photocopied manuscripts.
"About thirty novels have been selected and are awaiting evaluation."
The first editor presented his work:
"This is That Unforgettable Summer, the new work by Hana-san, a veteran light novel author with whom we have collaborated for four years. This novel has a delicate plot and original characters, showing a certain advancement compared to her previous works."
The editor who submitted the manuscript began a brief introduction to the novel for the colleagues present. During this process, the entire conference room filled with the rustling of papers being flipped through.
Two minutes later, everyone began talking as if they were at a fair.
"I don't think the first chapter is very engaging! The protagonist is too weak! This type of character doesn't captivate readers anymore!"
"I disagree. Hana-san knows how to write shy characters. Her previous work was very well received."
"But the first chapter here is inferior. It doesn't make an impact."
"But nothing is absolute. A debut author might not be able to write such a captivating female protagonist, but everyone knows this author's talent. Her previous work, 'She in the Clouds!', was published by the publisher for three months and received much praise."
The discussion grew like wildfire.
Miyuki rested her chin on her hand, observing. She had no direct interest in that dispute, since her manuscript wasn't competing for the publisher's main magazine.
She thought the quality of 'Ao Haru Ride' was sufficient, but the fact that Ren Yamamoto was a debut author was a big problem. The editor-in-chief, Yuki Hashimoto, wouldn't risk agreeing to serialize 'Ao Haru Ride' in the main magazine.
Still, watching the discussion was unavoidable.
After twenty-five minutes of heated debate, the editor-in-chief's firm voice cut through the room:
"Under review! Not yet approved."
And with that, she moved on to the next one.
Miyuki arranged the papers in front of her. In a few minutes it would be her turn to present the two manuscripts she had brought.
And then it would be the moment of truth; the fate of the two young aspiring authors was in her hands.
End of Chapter 8.