"Hmm... aren't you worried that writing novels now might cause similar minor conflicts in your family again?" Ren asked cautiously.
If playing a game on her phone was cause for discussion, imagine a rich girl, raised under strict rules, getting involved in writing a serialized young adult novel and even publishing it.
Shiori Haruki didn't look away. She just breathed, as if weighing each word before letting it out.
"Well, I'm not worried about that now. Because I'm sixteen, I'm an adult. I can judge the direction of my life and take responsibility for it," Shiori said softly, looking at Ren.
Ren blinked, absorbing the sentence with the same astonishment he would feel hearing someone say the sky changed color.
In Japan, adulthood was a different story, and he knew it. But she also knew that families like hers lived in their own system, a universe of internal rules where "allowed" and "forbidden" didn't just obey the law. There were agreements, emancipation, and conditions that granted freedom and, along with it, a price.
So that's why she chose to start writing novels and do what she loves after turning sixteen?
Ren exhaled slowly, as if she had been holding her breath without realizing it.
Although they had only spoken for a few minutes, Ren genuinely felt that Shiori was incredibly perceptive.
They were in Miyuki's apartment, in a residential neighborhood of Minami. The place had the comfort of someone who had lived alone for a long time: everything was organized, but nothing was "decorated to impress." A bookshelf full of books, a fiber rug on the floor, a low table with papers scattered around, and in the corner, almost like a personal altar, a pile of old game consoles that had made Ren salivate since he entered.
He looked at those devices as if they were locked away in a treasure chest.
And that's when impulsiveness overcame prudence.
"Hey… Miyuki, can I borrow your video game consoles for a little while?"
Miyuki didn't even look up. Her eyes scanned the lines, searching for flaws, listening for rhythm, feeling the story's structure like someone feeling a patient's pulse.
"Just don't break them," she replied casually, completely absorbed in her book.
Hearing this, Ren immediately perked up, rushing to grab a console he'd been eyeing for a while, plugging it in and placing it on the table.
"Want to try it out? Like an adult?"
He held the controller up toward Shiori as if offering an ancient secret.
She was a little confused to hear this. What was Ren thinking?
Shouldn't two authors whose works were being serialized in Red Violet Literature be discussing novel writing, premonitions, and techniques for manipulating readers' emotions when they met?
Why was he suddenly asking me if I played video games?
Ren looked at Shiori, inserting the True Iron Soul game cartridge. The console emitted its simple, rudimentary electronic music, similar to that of the NES.
Shiori looked at the video game controller Ren had placed in front of her and at the shrill electronic sound emanating from the console. Then she looked at Miyuki, who was absorbed in her manuscript and probably wouldn't pay attention to the two of them for at least half an hour. Since she was bored anyway, she decided to play a little.
Of course, the most crucial reason was that Ren felt sorry for her. It was one thing that she hadn't spent her childhood in arcades, but she had the game 'True Iron Soul' to keep her company; he couldn't allow Shiori to be so ignorant at sixteen.
This was like children in parallel worlds who couldn't tolerate not having games like "Contra," "Super Mario Bros.," "King of Fighters," "Cadillacs and Dinosaurs," or "Road Rash" during their childhood: absolutely unacceptable.
"I can try." She picked up the controller, a strange feeling of lightness and joy washing over her.
The game, True Iron Soul, is actually similar to King of Fighters in a parallel world. Players choose their character at the beginning and can play against the computer or against each other.
"I don't know how to play this game properly. Maybe you need to teach me the controls."
"The controls are quite simple, just a few buttons. It's basically about combos." Ren looked at Shiori, but before she could finish speaking, she froze.
Her shoulders straightened. Her chin lifted a millimeter. Her eyes, once gentle, became sharp, focused, like blades. She stared at the game screen, her fingers ready to strike. His eyes were incredibly sharp.
Anything related to winning or losing, she would pay 100% attention to.
An indescribable aura emanated from her. Ren originally wanted a relaxing and fun tutorial match with her, but seeing her look... what the heck?
"Is she trying to humiliate me in the game? Did I do something to her?"
Ren, who frequented arcades before elementary school, was very familiar with that kind of look from his opponents in games. Losing a fight might not be so bad for a boy, but losing a game can keep you up at night.
Miyuki took a long time to finish reading the manuscripts of chapters seven and eight of the two novels she had in her hands.
The plot of "The Light of Yesterday's Stars," after the anticipation in the initial stages, is now a novel that combines fantasy, romance, and mystery.
To be honest, the plot is very exciting and the quality is exceptional. This only shows that novels written by intelligent people are different. The protagonist's intelligence is impeccable; In fact, Miyuki sometimes felt that her intelligence was slightly suppressed by the plot, needing to read and reflect a great deal to understand it.
The beginning had already planted enough clues for the reader to suspect everything, but without losing the brilliance of the romance and that feeling of everyday fantasy, as if the world hid a secret layer beneath simple things. It was a delicate mixture of mystery, love, and almost surreal elements, a story that made the reader feel like they were being pulled by invisible threads.
However, the novel contains many elements that may cause some confusion for readers. Four or five small alterations or deletions were made in chapters 7 and 8, making the reading easier.
And 'Ao Haru Ride'... Miyuki seemed defeated.
She interned as an editor at Red Violet Literature for four summers at university and then worked there for almost two years after graduation. Her professional career in the field can be considered quite solid.
However, regarding the seventh and eighth chapters of Ren's novel manuscript, she couldn't find any flaws.
This didn't mean the novel was perfect, but rather that she couldn't offer Ren any better writing direction than the plot described in the manuscript.
It was mature, too mature. It didn't need much revision; perhaps the writing style could be improved, but the main plot was that of a very mature teenage romance.
Furthermore, this plot made her, the editor, feel as if she had returned to her youth, her youthful heart overflowing with joy.
Seeing the scene where Kou got off the train at that crucial moment and chose to stay by Futaba's side, Miyuki clearly felt her heart race.
The text was clean, well-punctuated, with a rhythm that seemed too natural. The dialogues had just the right amount of sweetness to avoid becoming tiresome. The scenes had breathing room. The romantic tension grew as it should: without haste, without stumbling into cheap clichés.
Miyuki looked up and saw the two of them sitting on the couch.
Shiori bit her lower lip hard, her pearl-white teeth gleaming, her eyes slightly red as she stared intently at the game screen, but her hands moved with lightning speed.
She had a clear plan for her next move. Small jump, hand piercing the groin, landmine, power explosion.
"Now!" Shiori's eyes gleamed and her finger pressed hard.
On the other side, Ren smiled.
"I've figured you out, little girl. What you want to do is completely under my control."
"How can someone who's been a master at the Iron Soul arcade game for ten years be defeated by someone you've studied for only half an hour?"
A quick block, a step back, and then… A fluid combo, and Shiori's character was cornered, suspended in mid-air.
Ten seconds.
Shiori's fingers, gripping the video game controller, trembled for a full ten seconds, her eyes growing increasingly red, but in the end, she composed herself.
"I lost!" Shiori lowered her head, her voice heavy with frustration.
"You still have talent. You've mastered the character to this extent after only nine games with me. With more practice, I wouldn't be a match for you." Ren also calmed down from the excitement of the game.
"0-9."
Instantly, all the pride she felt vanished. She reflected on her arrogance for having defeated a novice at games and offered a few words of consolation to the loser.
Shiori's breath trembled. This score... She clenched her fists.
At that moment, Miyuki's doorbell rang. Her fondue order had arrived.
The delivery man brought a whole pot, followed by accompaniments, various types of meat, and some seasonal vegetables. Two minutes later, the living room was filled with a delicious aroma. She arranged everything in the center of the table. Then, she placed the accompaniments around it: sliced meats, mushrooms, tofu, scallions, leafy greens, and a variety of things that made her stomach remember that time had passed.
"Okay, let's talk while we eat," said Miyuki, her stomach rumbling as well.
Ren and Shiori's stomachs rumbled at the smell. It was already past 8:10 PM and none of the three had eaten lunch.
Seated at the table, the two authors became almost too formal. After all, she was the one paying; she couldn't refuse a meal and felt obligated to help with the video game.
Ren, with the posture of a student who doesn't want to get caught misbehaving. Shiori, with the wounded dignity of someone who just got beaten up in an arena she didn't recognize.
On the table, the red oil broth in the pan bubbled and boiled. The steam rose, hot, and slightly blurred the air between them.
Miyuki picked up the papers for "The Light of Yesterday's Stars" and pointed to the first marking.
"Shiori, your protagonist, is very well developed, but the problem is that there are too many secondary characters. More than a dozen people appear in just two chapters. If they don't have corresponding developments in the plot later, mention them briefly. Don't let them distract the readers."
Shiori Haruki straightened her back, swallowing a piece of tofu as if it were medicine.
"Too many characters…?"
"In two parts, you had more than ten people coming and going. If these characters aren't important later, don't give them much screen time. A 'classmate' can be just that. No need for a name, dialogue, or a mini-story. Otherwise, the reader loses focus."
Shiori Haruki nodded slowly, mentally noting it down.
Miyuki turned another page.
"Besides, the plot of Chapter Eight is bad. In the dream labyrinth, she encounters the classmate who framed the female protagonist and is in danger. The male protagonist not only didn't kick her when she was down, but also had to save her?"
"I think that demonstrates the male protagonist's kindness," Shiori said softly, her voice lower. And there was, behind it all, a discomfort: she didn't want to be corrected like that in front of Ren. He was the rival. He was the other author on the rise. She didn't want to give him the pleasure of seeing her flaws.
Miyuki didn't soften her tone.
"Wrong, wrong, wrong, completely wrong. Readers today don't like kind and loving male protagonists. Or rather, it's not that they don't like kind and loving male protagonists, but rather that these emotions can only be expressed in relation to the female protagonist."
"A guy who's kind and loving to everyone is just a jerk, like a 'central air conditioning' type, trying to spread warmth to everyone and lacking focus. He even tries to save a classmate who hurt the female protagonist. I can say that this is a huge deterrent for a male protagonist," Miyuki said directly.
Shiori Haruki was silent for two seconds, absorbing these words silently.
Then she nodded, very slowly, and stored it away like someone storing a necessary defeat.
Ten minutes later, Miyuki finished criticizing the manuscript of "The Light of Yesterday's Stars."
"Very well, those are all the problems with these two chapters of your novel. There are no serious flaws, just minor details that won't require much work to correct."
Shiori Haruki felt a surge of anticipation. She took a deep breath, and her heart, for a moment, filled with hope.
"My questions are over." Now it's Ren's turn for 'Ao Haru Ride,' right?
Editor Hime, don't give me that. Give him a good review and stop being so arrogant. Shiori waited anxiously for her to continue.
Miyuki turned her face to Ren.
"Ren Yamamoto," Miyuki's cherry-red lips parted slightly.
"Yes, I'm listening." Ren straightened up.
Shiori's eyes were incredibly focused.
"Do you think that meat from that fondue restaurant is fresh?"
The silence that followed was so profound it seemed to fill the entire table. Ren blinked. Shiori Haruki froze, her chopsticks hanging in mid-air.
"It's reasonable, but not as fresh as gnawing on a cow's rear end." Ren wasn't sure what Miyuki meant, so he made a joke to ease the tension.
He chuckled nervously to himself. He feared this was the calm before the storm.
Miyuki finally let out a small smile and then simply resumed eating, as if nothing had happened.
"Right, then, let's eat quickly. The meat won't be good if it's overcooked."
"Huh?" Shiori's eyes widened in disbelief.
She looked at Miyuki. Then at Ren and back at Miyuki.
No. It couldn't be.
"Um, Miyuki, don't you have anything to say about the manuscript of your novel about your 'Ao Haru Ride"?"
"Hurry up and critique Ren!"
"Hurry up!"
"Don't give him the importance he deserves."
Miyuki stopped chewing, looked up, and stared at Shiori with an expression of someone forced to broach an irritating subject.
"'Ao Haru Ride'?" she repeated, as if the name tasted bad on her tongue. "There's nothing to say. The plot is perfect, the writing is excellent, I can't find any flaws. Just send it to the publisher for serialization."
Miyuki paused, staring speechless at Shiori.
"I didn't even want to mention it, I just didn't want Ren to think he was arrogant. Why did you mention that?"
Ren stood there, somewhat speechless, and then, inevitably, a glint of pride began to grow in his eyes, despite his efforts to hide it.
Shiori's mouth opened in astonishment, her fingers trembling slightly. Neither Miyuki nor Ren realized that at that moment...
A certain girl's heart shattered.
She hadn't yet recovered from the blow of her brutal defeat to Ren in the game, and now she was being crushed by the comparison between them in her career as a romance novelist.
At that moment, not even the stew in Shiori's mouth tasted good.
End of Chapter 25