The frustration hidden deep in Shiori's eyes passed like the wind through a closed window: it was there, pressing from within, but no one saw it. Not because it was small, but because Ren and Miyuki couldn't imagine she had so many mixed obsessions.
For Ren, that night had been simple. He had come to deliver manuscripts, listened to advice, played a little, eaten well, and that was it. For Miyuki, it was a night of work: reading, pointing out adjustments, guiding, keeping the two authors on track. And, in the midst of all that, a steaming pot and the brief peace of a delicious dinner.
For Shiori Haruki, however, nothing was "simple."
She carried every detail as if it were an invisible score being recorded inside her: a sum of defeats that no one recognized as defeat, because there was no trophy, no audience, no announcement on the screen.
There was only her, and that bitter feeling of falling behind.
When the meal was truly over, Miyuki efficiently cleared the dishes and carefully stacked the papers on the table, making sure the marked sheets didn't get mixed up.
Ren remained seated for a moment, staring at the now almost silent pot, as if the food had served to lower his guard without him even noticing. He was the type of person who didn't open up easily. Even when he was having fun, he seemed to be having fun with only half of himself.
But this time, something had changed, perhaps because Miyuki had, in fact, been fair. Perhaps because, after a whole day of pressure, being treated professionally and even receiving dinner was a kind of "kindness" too rare to ignore.
He cleared his throat and spoke, in a surprisingly honest way:
"Thank you for the treat. It's good to have you working so hard at my job and still inviting me to dinner."
Ren sincerely thanked Miyuki.
Miyuki, who was putting away a jar in the kitchen, glanced over her shoulder with a half-smile, one of those that wasn't entirely playful.
"Don't overdo it. I'm not going to pretend I didn't eat either." She returned to the living room and, with a simple gesture, brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, her beautiful, delicate face lighting up with a smile.
"Next time, you can invite me to dinner."
Ren nodded without hesitation. Although he was usually distant, this meal had drastically improved his impression of Miyuki.
He inevitably thought of everything he had read online: authors complaining about disappearing editors, people who only wanted to "cut costs," professionals who treated writers like numbers.
Miyuki wasn't like that. She had been critical, even harsh, but with a clear objective: to improve the text. And that, in the universe Ren was beginning to enter, was worth more than praise.
Miyuki pulled out the two stacks of papers, separated the pages, and handed them to them.
"Alright, take your manuscripts back and review the details. Today was just for reviewing the content; the official submission is on Friday, the day after tomorrow."
Shiori Haruki took her manuscript carefully, as if it were too fragile for her own touch.
She had heard criticism and mentally. Still, the part that hurt wasn't the corrections. It was the contrast between how detailed her corrections were and how, in Ren's case, there was almost nothing to correct.
"But I need to tell you both something."
Ren's body shifted slightly. His gaze became attentive. Shiori, who seemed downcast, tried to cheer herself up, still stunned by the blow. She straightened up, like someone who realizes that the real matter hadn't even begun yet.
Miyuki spoke slowly, but with the clarity of someone who had already discussed this in a meeting and knew exactly which words would have the most impact:
"Actually, I don't need to remind you of much. You two probably already know that both 'Ao Haru Ride' and 'The Light of Yesterday's Stars' are excellent debut works for new authors."
"It's rare to see such promising new talents under twenty like you in the Southern Prefecture's literary scene in recent years. Not only our publishing house, but also the other four major publishing houses in the Southern Prefecture have many editors keeping an eye on you."
Ren narrowed his eyes. Shiori held her breath for a second, even unintentionally.
"You are young, students, and talented. And you two, one handsome and the other an incredibly beautiful young woman, the publishing house wants to use these external characteristics and identities as attractions for your novels, which can improve the serial publication's performance to some extent."
"And although there hasn't been an official announcement yet, the publisher has basically reached a consensus to release standalone volumes of 'Ao Haru Ride' and 'The Light of Yesterday's Stars'. This will happen soon, in just over a month. As soon as you have more information once the material is published, the volumes will be released simultaneously." Miyuki spoke slowly, allowing the two to process her words.
Shiori Haruki didn't seem offended. She seemed alert. Because the problem was never receiving compliments on appearance. The problem was what came with it: exposure.
The silence that followed was uncomfortable.
Shiori Haruki was the first to speak, and this time her voice wasn't timid. It was firm because it touched her life in a dangerous way.
"So, the publisher is going to publicly disclose my personal information?"
Miyuki shook her head and explained:
"Of course, the publisher has that idea, but whether they agree or not is up to you. Or rather, how public it will be is up to you. I know your situation; your family might not approve of you writing a serialized novel."
"So, you can choose not to disclose your name and photo, only your student status and the school you attend. This can also be used as a selling point for the promotion." When the standalone book is released, a book by a new author labeled as a 'high school prodigy' will have a significant advantage," Miyuki told Shiori.
Shiori pressed the manuscript against her legs, thinking quickly. Her head worked as always: logic, calculation, and consequence.
"If I don't reveal my name or photo… they can still recognize me," she said, almost in a whisper, as if talking to herself. "But… just revealing that I'm a student and the school… that I accept."
Miyuki nodded, satisfied with the practicality of that choice.
Ren, who until then hadn't been very involved, cleared his throat and joined the conversation with the tone of someone who had already decided long ago:
"I also don't want to reveal my true identity for now, but saying that 'Mizuki Ito' is a student at Minami High School is fine." "After all, there are thousands of people at the school, who could guess correctly?" Ren didn't want to be stared at by a group of female readers at school.
He remembered the way some of his classmates looked at him when they talked about 'Ao Haru Ride'. If they found out, half the school would look at him like he was some kind of secret celebrity. The other half, like he was a stranger.
Not to mention that, in his class alone, eight or nine classmates were fans of "Ao Haru Ride".
Miyuki watched the two for a long moment. It was the look of an editor who knows exactly how the machine works and, at the same time, understands that she can't crush the author in the first month of their career.
"Alright, I respect your decision. I'll inform the book club about your wishes." "It's getting late, let's wrap up the meeting here."
She gathered the remaining papers, as if closing a dossier.
"Okay, Miyuki, I'm going." Ren stood up immediately upon hearing this.
He stood, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and took a step toward the door. Shiori's expression hardened.
"Huh? You're leaving?" she asked, the question itself tinged with an awkwardness that made it clear it wasn't about leaving.
Ren stopped and turned his face away, confused.
"What is it?" Ren looked at her curiously. "It's past nine o'clock at night, what are you doing here instead of leaving?"
Her eyes drifted to the corner of the room, where the video game console lay quietly, its controller abandoned as if it were an unimportant object.
"What I mean is…"
"You beat me nine times and you're just going to run away like that?" "Is this appropriate?"
She clenched and opened her fingers several times, trying to ease the tension.
"How about we play a few more games before you leave?"
Almost. Those words nearly escaped her lips, but she couldn't say them. She wasn't sure why she was experiencing so much emotional turmoil today.
Because a part of her, the more rational and disciplined part, surged forward like a wall. Perhaps it was because her performance in "The Light of Yesterday's Stars" had been crushed by "Ao Haru Ride" in three consecutive rounds. Normally, losing a game to a game addict wouldn't bother her at all.
But this game addict was Mizuki Ito, the author of "Ao Haru Ride," which changed everything. She wanted Ren to stay and continue playing "True Iron Soul" with her.
And perhaps it was because Ren was the same age as her and attended the same school, which made her so reluctant to accept defeat. She would leave when... She would win; if she didn't, she was prepared to stay up all night, skip class the next day, and keep playing until she managed to beat Ren at least once.
She took a deep breath, forced herself to keep a neutral face, and swallowed the urge.
"Why should anyone waste time satisfying their trivial competitive spirit?" Shiori sighed internally, her strong self-control suppressing her competitive spirit.
She hesitated for a moment, then said nothing.
He looked at the video game, then back at her, and a smile appeared, not a mocking smile, but one of understanding.
"You still want to play with me, don't you?"
Shiori Haruki didn't confirm, she didn't want to admit defeat, which was normal, but her eyes did it for her. Ren chuckled softly, almost amused. Deep down, he felt something he hadn't expected: genuine sympathy.
He realized that this girl, so often touted as a high school genius, wasn't as distant and indifferent as the school portrayed her. She also had normal human desires like anyone else.
At least, Ren understood the desire to recover what she had lost in a game!
"Next time we meet, if you still want to play, I'll always be ready," Ren said.
Shiori Haruki blinked, as if the sentence were in a foreign language.
"Next… time?"
"Yes, it's Friday. We'll both come back here to deliver the revised manuscript to Miyuki. If you still want to keep playing, I certainly won't be a coward who runs away after winning."
That promise hit her in a strange way. It wasn't a grand promise, but it made her heart pound with anticipation.
After finishing speaking, Ren waved to the two of them, grabbed his backpack, and left first. Shiori stood there, watching him leave, stunned for a moment; it seemed her body had forgotten how to move.
The door closed with a short click, and the silence that remained in the apartment was different, less steamy and more full of thought.
Friday.
The word repeated itself within her like a reminder and a challenge.
That night, after returning home, Ren efficiently revised the manuscript of "Ao Haru Ride." He adjusted descriptions, polished dialogues, cut repetitions, and smoothed transitions. When he finished, he went to bed early.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the city… A certain girl was awake in the middle of the night.
Shiori Haruki was in bed, in the dark, the room too silent. It was the silence of a large house, with thick walls, invisible rules. Even so, her mind wouldn't stop racing. As soon as she closed her eyes, the details of those nine nightmarish games began to replay in her mind.
But it wasn't about enjoying the game. It was about not accepting being inferior.
She turned to her side, tried to breathe, tried to think about something else. She tried to remember Miyuki's advice about secondary characters, tried to visualize future scenes from her own novel… but nothing held her mind for long.
The score returned. Ren's smile returned. The feeling that he seemed so "natural" at it, as if winning was the easiest thing in the world, returned.
She wasn't very interested in the game itself, but she couldn't sleep. She grabbed her phone from under the covers and, for the first time, didn't use it to look for online courses in music, painting, or learning.
Instead, she searched this term on the internet: "The Complete Guide to Combos and Strategies for the 'Yuan' Character of the True Iron Soul!"
If Ren was good because he had years of arcade experience… Then she would do it her way: with study, method, and logic.
Deep down, one certainty settled in: on Friday, she wouldn't accept leaving there without at least one victory.
End of Chapter 26