Amamiya Miki stepped out of the changing room but didn't go far.
She simply stood quietly in the corridor just outside the door.
Leaning against the wall, head lowered, she stared at her brown high heels.
The turmoil in her heart mirrored the restless tapping of her toes.
'Sigh…' Is it true that writers just can't create good work without sex anymore?
Even soone as young as Hojou-san doesn't seem to be an exception.
And from the looks of it, he's even more… formidable than the famous ones.
With her head still lowered, Amamiya Miki mulled over whether there was still any space left by Hojou-sensei's side for soone like her.
But no matter how she turned it over in her mind, she couldn't find a way to squeeze herself in between all those dazzlingly brilliant girls.
The changing room door opened again.
She quickly straightened up from the wall and gave a 15-degree bow.
"Is there anything else I can do for you, Hojou-san?"
"Thank you, Amamiya-san. You've already done more than enough."
Kyousuke keenly noticed the change in how she addressed him, but he didn't mind in the slightest—in fact, he seed rather pleased by it.
"Your family and friends are currently being shown around the venue by my colleagues," Amamiya inford him. "Also, reporters from the Asahi Shimbun and Yomiuri Shimbun are still waiting inside."
"Got it. Thanks for your hard work. I'll head over now."
Kyousuke gave a small nod.
His hands were empty—his prize box and suit had both been taken by Eriri.
Who knows what she was planning.
Though Eriri didn't say a word, she did nod briefly to the now-cleared-of-suspicion emcee, then strode ahead.
The petite girl walked in front, hugging a box nearly half her size.
Her body swayed from side to side, and her golden twin-tails swung along with it, tapping left and right against her plump little bottom.
Kyousuke couldn't help but chuckle quietly at the adorable sight.
He didn't hurry to catch up—he just followed behind, enjoying the view.
"Hurry up, will you!"
"Okaaay~"
————————————————————————
At the Venue
The giant book prop—nearly as tall as two people—still sat on the stage, with guests taking turns posing for photos beside it.
Journalists crowded in, snapping pictures of the recomndation cards displayed on easels.
All the chairs had been cleared out.
Along the edges of the room, fruit platters and drinks now decorated long tables.
The award ceremony had officially transford into a banquet.
"This is kind of embarrassing… My daughter's two years older than Hojou-san, and I'm still sitting here watching him win awards like a proud dad," one man sighed.
"Kijima-san, don't be so down—it's like watching wilted lettuce. You've already got a perfect family life. If you talk like that, it'll sound like you're showing off to those of us who haven't won awards or gotten married," another chuckled.
"Haha, no no, that's not what I ant. It's just… seeing Hojou-san up there makes feel like I'm looking at my own future—always on the shortlist, never the winner."
"Always the runner-up?"
"Hey, the guy scored 700 points! Even if you don't crunch the numbers, you can feel how popular he is with bookstore staff, right? If he keeps releasing new books every year, every future Honya Taisho is practically his for the taking!"
"True, true. Maybe I should just switch to making picture books starting tomorrow. Wouldn't be bad to win the Picture Book Taisho, huh? Plus, my grandkids could enjoy them."
"You brat! Why are you thinking like an old man already? My daughter's cute as hell, about the sa age as Hojou-san—why couldn't I be attending this award ceremony as his father-in-law?"
"Wait, your daughter?" The unmarried Nishimoto's interest was instantly piqued.
"Yup. She's in high school in Tokyo too." Kijima whipped out his phone and opened his photo album.
'Hmm… She's not even as cute as my cousin.'
Wait a second—does this an I might still have a shot at getting Hojou-sensei to write endorsent blurbs for all my future books?
"Since Hojou-san's parents are here, I should go say hello."
"Count in!" Nishimoto hurried to tag along.
'Pathetic, both of them!'
Standing still, Ishida Hidenori ground his teeth as he watched the other two—both also in the top 10 shortlist—scurry off.
The reason he hadn't left the venue yet wasn't because two burly n were pinning him down on either side, nor because of the knife-wielding assassin behind him.
No, he was biding his ti—waiting for the right mont to strike back.
He glanced toward the group of reporters.
'Why haven't they co to interview yet?'
Before today, there were tons of Yahoo News articles predicting his victory!
Now, such a strong contender losing out?
This is clearly a scandal! Co ask about it already!
If the journalists ca, the two goons wouldn't dare stop him from talking.
And the assassin wouldn't just murder him in front of everyone... Right? Probably?
Deep down, Ishida still thought of Hojou as just a wet-behind-the-ears kid.
Surely he couldn't be that ruthless.
But the mont that thought ford, he rembered how it had felt these past few weeks—like he'd been dancing on strings in soone else's fantasy.
A shiver ran through him.
"Ishida-san, did you just pee yourself?" Kisaki said with a frown.
"..."
Ishida fought the urge to shout back with all the willpower his middle-aged bladder could muster.
So what if he had so urinary issues? That wasn't worth a fuss!
Still no sign of any reporters approaching.
His eyes drifted to the left side of the hall—where a huge, rowdy crowd had gathered: Kyousuke's friends and family.
'Damn it. Is this how a junior author's supposed to behave?'
'This is your first award—if you win a few more, are you gonna invite your whole neighborhood next ti?'
And those two guys in suits—gobbling food like deer in Nara—were they starving for centuries or what?
And the tall one, standing there like a giraffe—why aren't you eating?
Secretly drooling, aren't you? Hypocrite! Just like Kyousuke!
And look at those other finalists—rushing over to kiss up to him already? What, hoping he'll thank you in his next acceptance speech?
And those girls—beautiful but brainless—Kyousuke must've fooled every one of them.
Look at him! The ceremony's over and he's not even looking your way. Still just standing there, zoning out. Doesn't even—"
"Please stop gawking."
"Yes, sir!"
The cold voice behind his ear made Ishida Hidenori clench every muscle in his lower body. Crap… this ti it's for real—
The sudden warmth spreading in his pants only fanned the flas of hatred in his heart.
'Where's the boss?' Kisaki sighed inwardly.
'I wanna go greet his dad too.'
'Hurry up and deal with Ishida Hidenori already, so we can all go celebrate.'
'And that lady... was this really the end of her plan? If our moves overlap later, we're just wasting effort. Shouldn't we coordinate?'
Kisaki let out a long sigh.
Especially with Gonzo's loud hollering echoing through the hall, it made him long to just ss around with the gang again—like they used to in middle school.
Just as he was thinking that… a strange sll reached his nose.
His well-trained body reacted instantly—he leapt back two steps like lightning.
'Is he serious? Did he actually wet himself?!'
That was Kisaki Tetta's very first thought.
'Should I get him a change of pants?' he wondered next.
'Wouldn't want him stinking up the air when Hojou shows up…'
He finally turned to glance at the two hulking n on either side of Ishida Hidenori—the ones holding him up under the guise of "support."
'Damn, it reeks.'
Ichikawa Minoru grimaced and looked toward his colleague Hirahara Yuuji.
He was satisfied to see the exact sa disgust mirrored in his partner's expression.
'Missy… just how long are we gonna have to keep doing this job?'
Despite their suffering, the two didn't loosen their grip on Ishida's arms.
In fact, they tightened their hold even more.
At this point, as long as they pleased the young lady, promotions and pay raises were practically guaranteed.
"Ugh…" Ishida Hidenori let out a pained groan.
He wasn't even sure why he was still here.
The train tracks of the Chūō Line had never felt so far away.
"Ishida-san, I'm relieved to see you still so full of spirit," ca a cheerful, almost musical voice that landed in Ishida's ears like a firetruck's siren.
"I really enjoy your work—it's a sha you didn't win this ti. But I'm confident we'll see you holding the trophy next year."
Eyes lighting up, Ishida spun around, only to catch a glimpse of the back of Hamamoto Shigeru, chairman of the award committee, as he walked away.
His voice drifted behind him:
"I'll leave you to chat with your friends. Until next ti."
'Friends your ass!!!'
————————————————————————
Kyousuke arrived at the entrance of the banquet hall, above which was a drawing of Mt. Fuji. Waiting for him outside were Mitsuha and his senpai, Utaha Kasumigaoka.
"Let's go. Mom's probably getting impatient."
Kyousuke smiled and pushed open the door.
"Ah! It's Hojou-sensei!"
"There he is!"
Soone spotted him—and then in an instant, a crowd surged toward him, nearly pushing him back out the door.
"Heh… let's move over there," Kasumigaoka Utaha said with a chuckle.
Without stopping, she turned and led the way to the left side of the hall.
Although everyone was dressed formally for the event, Hojou's subordinates still stood out.
Even in suits, they exuded a beast-like intensity that only made them look more like professionals.
In contrast, Hojou Ichirou, Makki Hojou, and the rest looked exactly like guests at a party—drinks in hand (juice? alcohol?), polite smiles on their faces as they chatted casually with strangers, breaking into hearty laughter now and then.
Though Kyousuke's presence had obviously stolen the spotlight, the entrance of the three girls still drew plenty of eyes—including those of the trio standing near Ishida Hidenori.
But when Utaha didn't even glance in their direction, they understood: Ishida was being left for Kyousuke to deal with personally.
Kisaki let out a long sigh.
He thought about calling one of the guys currently stuffing themselves at the buffet to take his place, so he could go help his boss accept business cards, note down potential collaborators, and keep track of any future opportunities.
That's where Kisaki Tetta's sharp mind truly shone—not in babysitting jobs like this.
Inozuka should be the one doing this!
But… on second thought, if Ishida got so scared he had an accident again, that would be a disaster.
anwhile, Kyousuke continued exchanging polite smiles and empty small talk with a stream of strangers, all while subtly pushing through the crowd, making his way toward his parents and close friends.
Everyone he brushed past felt like they were being shoved by so invisible force.
They looked around, annoyed, thinking maybe one of the guys behind him was being rough.
After much effort, he finally made it.
Inozuka and Hatake Gorou, each holding fruit plates, quickly wiped their mouths and instinctively ford a human wall to shield Kyousuke from the crowd.
"Boss! This honeydew lon is crazy sweet!" Inozuka said, reluctantly offering up his plate.
Every single piece of lon from the table had already been claid by him.
"Sweet enough to rot your teeth?"
Kyousuke grinned and took the plate, picking up a slice with his fingers and popping it in his mouth.
He even licked his fingertips.
Yup—firm and juicy.
Completely different from the trendy ice cream-style lons people talked about these days.
Though… maybe it was just his imagination, but even after wiping his hands multiple tis with wet tissues, his fingers still seed to carry a faint… unusual scent.
Ah well—definitely just in his head.
"No way! My teeth are still perfect!" Inozuka grinned, proudly showing off his pearly whites. His steel-trap jaw could probably crush bones if he wanted to.
The fierce expression on his face imdiately scared off a few curious onlookers who'd been inching closer.
Kyousuke returned the plate to the happy-go-lucky giant and finally approached his parents—who had stopped talking and were now watching him with beaming smiles.
"Kyousuke!!!"
From Yukino Yukari's arms, little Kasuko spotted her brother and imdiately shouted, stretching out her chubby arms.
"Haha, my little Kasuko!"
Kyousuke reached out with both arms and gently took his sister from Yukino's embrace.
As he did, his eyes t Yukari's—deep and dark beneath her thick lashes—and even in that brief mont, unspoken feelings flowed freely between them.
"You've been gone so long! Kasuko hasn't seen you in forever! Kasuko missed you so much!"
The toddler cupped her brother's face with her tiny hands and began scolding him without rcy.
"Hahaha, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I missed you too, Kasuko," Kyousuke said, playfully touching his forehead to hers.
Satisfied with his response, Kasuko pointed to their father.
"Little Moo is all grown up now, and Daddy wants to sell him! But Moo is mine! I raised him for you, big brother!"
"Daddy is such a anie! He wants to sell Kasuko's baby cow! Grandpa should spank him and make him sleep in the barn tonight!"
Kyousuke nodded solemnly.
"Exactly! That's exactly what Mommy said!" Kasuko added, nodding fiercely.
'My daughter really is a genius,' thought Hojou Ichirou, eyes glowing with pride.
'Only two years old, and her logic is already this solid.'
'Definitely my child—clever and sharp.'
'Of course, without an equally intelligent wife, such a smart daughter wouldn't be possible.'
'Now, my son's a different story.'
'The kid doesn't even say "Dad" when we et.'
'Completely unlike his adorable sister, who shouts "Daddy! Daddy!" even when she's tattling.'
'Well… co to think of it, my wife is cuter than both of them. Maybe Kasuko just inherited all of her mother's charm.'
"Man… Ichirou-san's daughter is gonna be sothing else when she grows up," Osaka Gou laughed. "Daughters really are the best—just too adorable."
"Hahaha, of course she will," Ichirou said without a shred of modesty. If they'd been praising his son, he would've said sothing like "Oh, I just got lucky," or "It's all thanks to friends like you."
But when it ca to his daughter? Nah. No humility necessary.
Just having a daughter like Kasuko was already amazing enough.
His wife too—despite being a full-ti homaker, she ward his heart every day with her sweetness and kindness.
Truly the most amazing woman in the world.
"Kyousuke, you can play with Kasuko later—your friends have been waiting for you forever."
Hojou Mikiko waved cheerfully, and Misaki gaku and Mashiro Masashi, standing nearby, quickly gestured that it was no problem.
Kyousuke gave a small nod at his mother's words, then handed Kasuko over to Mitsuha, who had been watching longingly for a while.
Mitsuha imdiately took the little girl into her arms, holding her with a perfectly practiced posture, clearly familiar with kids.
After exchanging nods with a few writer and editor friends—and so people he didn't even know—Kyousuke gently pulled Mitsuha over to where his mother was waiting.
Mitsuha already knew what was coming.
Her face tensed up with nervousness, and not even the adorable little girl in her arms could calm her now.
Sure, she'd t Mikiko before at the Hojou household—but that situation had been completely different from this one.
"Mom, this is Mitsuha—you've t her."
"Yes, I rember," Mikiko replied, her tone slightly hesitant as she looked at the young girl in front of her.
There was sothing familiar about Mitsuha now… a kind of presence she couldn't quite put her finger on.
Without another word, Mikiko gently took Mitsuha by the hand and led her toward a group of won, diving straight into friendly conversation.
Seeing this, Kyousuke finally turned his attention to his father and the rest of his close friends.
"…"
Father and son locked eyes, then imdiately threw their arms around each other in a bear hug—pounding each other's backs with enough force to nearly rattle bones.
"Okay, okay, stop! You're gonna break your old man's spine!" As expected, Ichirou was the first to cry uncle.
Kyousuke laughed quietly to himself, then turned and gave Makki Hojou a big hug as well.
Even dressed in suits, the gesture between them was warm and full of emotion.
"Makki-san, you're looking more and more like a real success story," Kyousuke said with admiration.
Makki had always had a natural air of leadership, but after his ti in university, that once-wild aura had matured.
Now, he carried himself with a heavy calmness—like his impressive fra mirrored his solid inner core.
"Don't say that. Coming from the youngest winner in Bookstore Awards history, it just makes feel like I forgot to subscribe to the Premium Plan of life," Makki laughed heartily, eyes shining with pride.
"Haha, exactly! Every ti I see Hojou, I get that sa feeling—but no matter how many people I ask, nobody knows where to sign up for that premium upgrade. What a rip-off ga," Misaki gaku chid in, grinning.
"Compared to you guys, I've already lived half my life. Should I just hit restart right now?" Osaka Gou, the seasoned middle-aged man of the group, wasn't going to let himself be outdone.
"Ah, here we go—next thing you know, you'll be bragging about your lovely wife again," Kyousuke teased with a smirk.
"I knew sothing felt off," Mashiro Masashi shouted dramatically, lifting his hand and tapping the bottom of Gou's wine glass in a mock punishnt.
"Ugh, how could I ever dare show off like that around you, of all people?" Osaka Gou groaned playfully.
————————————————————————
A gathering of genuine high-achievers, competing over who had it worse in life.
Hojou Ichirou watched his son, now surrounded by a group of such outstanding young people, a nostalgic glint in his eye.
No matter where you go or what you strive to do—success always cos with the help of those around you.
Just like back in his Tokyo days, when he and his school friends broke away from a major law firm, full of fire and ambition.
Like wolves, they clawed prestigious clients from their seniors, waded through endless mountains of contracts, argued inside and outside the courtroom, stuffed cash into their pockets, and bathed in top-shelf booze at high-end clubs…
And in the end, always returned ho—to warmth, to family.
His son… was doing pretty damn well in Tokyo, too.
Ichirou raised his glass with a smile and clinked it lightly in the air with Editor-in-Chief Shimomura.
His son's growth wasn't just about career achievents—he'd grown into a man who could gather such incredible allies through sheer ability alone.
Seeing Kyousuke fully absorbed into a different circle now, the onlookers trying to join the fun finally retreated, disappointed.
This gave Inozuka and the others a chance to join in.
"Big bro, you were amazing out there! So many reporters, so many caras, live-stread all over the net! You looked like a damn movie star!" Eikichi Onizuka shouted excitedly.
He had no clue how prestigious the award actually was—and could barely even pronounce its na—but even he could tell from the production value alone that Kyousuke was the real deal.
"Totally! We should've brought the whole cheering squad!" Danma Ryuji added, causing Kyousuke's smile to twitch.
Just the few of you showing up already scared half the room away.
If the entire cheering squad ca, the Tokyo tropolitan Police would've had to call in riot control.
"Let's save that for the day I launch my own literary prize," Kyousuke replied with a chuckle.
He wasn't trying to be sarcastic—he could genuinely feel how happy his old friends were to see his success.
"Ooooh! I like the sound of that—'The Kyousuke Prize!'" Onizuka's eyes sparkled.
"Is it a literary award or for manga?" Shimomura Tetsuya asked, jumping in curiously.
"Or maybe… the 'Runaway Angel Award'?" Makki suggested, barely able to stay composed. "Modded cars might be a stretch, so let's make it a kendo competition?"
"Whoa whoa, that's getting out of hand—it's turning into so kind of all-in-one ga award! What's next? A peace prize?" Hojou Ichirou joked.
He hadn't expected what ca next.
The mont those words left his mouth, all of Kyousuke's black-suited friends lit up like Christmas trees.
"A peace prize would totally suit Boss."
"Right?! Forr biker gang leader who brought safety to the whole neighborhood!"
"He drew manga that gave students the courage to stand up to delinquents!"
"And he wrote novels that curbed rising holessness rates!"
"…."
Hojou Ichirou the once a silver-tongued lawyer, now found himself completely unprepared for this… tidal wave of praise.
These kids—couldn't they tell he was just kidding?
Starting an award in your own na sounded easy. And sure, with a few forms and the right connections, it technically was easy.
But in reality, it was like declaring a new nation from a dinghy in the middle of the ocean.
Without public recognition, it was just childish make-believe.
He studied the group again, trying to figure out if they were joking too.
But even the editor-in-chief next to him, Shimomura Tetsuya, looked seriously invested—he even brought up the Tezuka Award like this was a formal brainstorming session.
Onizuka, Makki, and the others were already discussing application procedures.
'Wait a second… do these people really believe my son is capable of sothing like this?'
Starting an award under his own na… one that would one day beco a dream for future generations to win?
Just imagining it, he couldn't help but wear the sa spark in his eyes that all the young people around him had.
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