"Arigatō."
As soon as Kazeno Jun sat down and exchanged a few simple pleasantries with Akira, the waiter arrived with the drink Akira had ordered ten minutes earlier and placed it in front of her.
"Teacher, may I ask… how old are you?"
"Teacher?"
At the back table, Shizuka Miyamura, who had been quietly eavesdropping, glanced at Shouko beside her. Shouko was too focused on her dessert to notice. Shizuka, however, was curious—why had Akira chosen such a pen na?
"Sixteen. Why?" Akira tilted his head, puzzled.
Kazeno Jun shook her head. "No reason, I was just curious." Her voice grew softer as she muttered:
"If I hadn't t you in person, I never would have believed that Anohana was written by a junior high schooler…"
Daiki Miyamura's calm but firm voice cut in before Akira could reply. "Let's get straight to the point. What's the signing process like?"
"O-okay."
Kazeno Jun hurriedly pulled a few printed contracts from her bag and handed them to Daiki, carefully explaining the general process step by step.
Akira skimd it over once, thought for a mont, and then asked:
"So, Jun-san, if I want to publish a physical book, I need to first upload the entire first volu to Futaba Bunko, right? Then depending on the reader clicks and popularity, the company decides whether to release it in print?"
"Yes, that's right." Kazeno Jun nodded rapidly, almost like a pecking bird. Then she patted her chest in reassurance.
"But don't worry, Teacher. I can guarantee your novel will definitely beco a physical release."
They had already exchanged nas during introductions, but for now, their way of addressing each other hadn't changed.
"What about the copyright?" Daiki Miyamura asked, pointing at the relevant clause.
Kazeno Jun leaned forward, scanning the section. "The copyright is owned exclusively by Futaba Publishing. During the cooperation period, the author cannot submit similar works to other publishers."
Daiki nodded, but after a brief pause, he handed the contract back.
"Wh-what's wrong? Is sothing unsatisfactory?" Kazeno Jun asked nervously, her heart sinking. Was this signing about to fall through?
Daiki gave Akira a reassuring glance. "The terms are decent, but I still want to discuss them further."
In Japan, light novels weren't yet fully developed, and no true breakout works had erged. On the surface, the contract looked fine, but Daiki could already see hidden risks.
And he wasn't about to bring them up here. Whether Kazeno Jun even had the authority to negotiate wasn't certain. It would be quicker—and safer—to sit down directly with President Kazeno of Futaba Publishing.
Besides, Daiki had his own reasons. Even if Akira's work didn't explode in popularity, copyright was too important to give away so casually. If Akira ever wanted to adapt his story into a manga or ani, holding onto the rights ant Akira himself could decide.
"Further? What do you an… further?" Kazeno Jun blinked in confusion.
In her short ti at Futaba, she'd signed two or three authors already. None of them had ever said anything about "further discussion." Usually, the mont she presented the contract, they would sign without hesitation.
"Don't worry," Daiki said lightly, "when Akira signs, it'll still be under your na."
Kazeno Jun froze. She wasn't entirely sure what he ant, but his calm confidence pressed down on her. Combined with the guilt of being late earlier, she didn't dare push back.
After a few more minutes of small talk, she packed up her things and excused herself, leaving the café with a heavy heart.
Once she left, Daiki explained his reasoning to Akira in brief. Akira quickly understood.
Simply put: Dad would handle the business. All Akira needed to do was keep writing.
Shouko, seeing Kazeno Jun leave, carried her half-finished cake to Akira's table. "So… how did it go, Akira?"
"Half-signed, I guess."
"Half-signed…?" Shouko tilted her head, confused. First an intern editor, now a half-signing—none of this made sense to her.
Akira gave her a quick rundown, and Shouko nodded, though she still looked puzzled. The four of them lingered at the café for another ten minutes before leaving.
Daiki drove them ho, explained the situation to Shizuka, and then told her not to prepare dinner for him.
He didn't return until past ten that night, carrying the faint sll of alcohol. Most of the drinks had been downed by others; he himself had only taken a little.
Shizuka, prepared as always, had hangover soup waiting. After drinking it, he tried to collapse into bed, but she pushed him toward the bathroom first.
Early March.
The morning light broke through a thin mist that still clung to Tokyo's streets. Office workers in crisp suits poured out of the subway like migrating birds, dark coats brushing in the wind.
The navy skirts of students swayed along the sidewalks, the straps of their school bags glinting faintly in the sun. Bicycle bells chid as they weaved through the streets, and the scent of simring oden wafted from the doors of convenience stores.
As usual, Akira sat distracted in class. With graduation close at hand, teachers had loosened their strictness. Most didn't even bother to wake up students who slept through lectures.
Except Ms. Nobe. No one dared sleep in her class.
Dong… dong… dong…!
"Class dismissed, everyone. And wake up those who are still sleeping—ti for lunch," the elderly teacher chuckled before leaving the room.
The classroom erupted with chatter. Students who had been dozing stirred awake on their own.
Shouko took two bento boxes from her bag, ready to wake Akira, but when she turned, she saw he was already awake, his eyes fixed on his watch.
"I need to take a call. Can you heat these up for , Shouko?" He showed her the caller ID on his screen — Kazeno Jun.
"Mhm," Shouko nodded. This was Akira's business, and she didn't want to get in the way. She tugged Ayumi and Takagi along to the cafeteria to heat up the bentos.
As for Nishikata, his family hadn't packed him lunch today. He'd already bolted downstairs to the convenience store to grab rice balls before the rush.
Akira stepped into the corridor, glancing at the bare cherry trees outside.
"Hello? Jun-san, what's the matter?"
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