— — — — — —
"That autumn when I was eleven… I could never play the piano again."
"Two years later, in April, a girl named Kaori Miyazono walked into my world."
"A healing story?"
The rookie editor leaned closer to the screen, intrigued.
Right now, feel-good light novels were dominating the market. Readers loved their warm, happy endings. If you could tug the heartstrings and wrap it up sweetly, you were golden.
He grabbed another cookie from the desk.
Then another.
His expression slowly grew serious.
More cookies disappeared.
"Pfft—bleh! What the hell? Why's it so bitter?!"
Laughter burst out behind him.
"Hahahaha!"
"Kouki-kun, you're too easy! You didn't even notice I swapped your cookies for green olives."
Ayame Kagurazaka clutched her stomach, laughing so hard she nearly bent in half.
Pranking the new hires was her favorite stress relief every April.
"Editor Kagurazaka!"
The rookie editor growled in protest.
"Okay, okay." She waved him off with a grin. "Don't sulk. I'll treat you to yakiniku. Busy or not, you still have to eat."
"Um… could we wait a bit?" he hesitated. "I want to finish this submission first."
"Grand Prize entry?"
She raised an eyebrow. "You found gold in a pile of junk? Send it to me."
Her eyes lit up instantly.
"Just emailed it to you, Chief."
"Good. I'll take a look."
Without another word, Kagurazaka headed back to her desk. She had zero resistance to a good light novel.
Anyway, every submission the rookies screened would pass through the chief editors' hands eventually.
She didn't mind peeking early.
Who knew? Maybe she'd snag a promising new author before anyone else noticed.
She clicked open the email.
The moment she saw the title and the author name, the corner of her mouth twitched.
"Your Lie in April... Copycat Transmigrator."
She kept muttering to herself as she scrolled.
Twenty thousand words wasn't much. So it didn't take long to reach the end.
"Huh?"
"…That's it?"
"That's it!!!"
She stared at the screen in disbelief.
"Who submits twenty thousand words and stops right there? I swear, I want to lock this 'Seven' in a dark room. No updates, no food!"
Her face was full of grievance.
For a veteran bookworm like her, finding a light novel that truly hit the spot was rare enough.
She finally found one.
And it ended at twenty thousand words.
She almost wished she hadn't found it at all.
Who understands that pain? The story hits its most gripping moment, and then—
Nothing.
Cut off.
It left her unbearably unsatisfied.
Kagurazaka propped her chin in her hands and pondered for a long while before typing her evaluation beneath the manuscript.
"A rare gem among newcomer works. Although only 20,000 words, the writing style shows clear maturity, and the character portrayals are highly compelling. It has the potential to surpass 10,000 copies in sales."
"As for flaws… some word choices feel slightly imprecise."
"Overall, the strengths far outweigh the weaknesses."
"Recommend advancing to the first round of judging. It may even be considered for the award shortlist in advance."
After finishing, she nodded in satisfaction and forwarded the document to a LINE group chat titled "Performance Decline Support Group."
Somewhere in a roadside bar, a certain unlucky editor-in-chief was hiding from his weekly "marital obligations."
Men hit forty and lose their drive. Women hit forty and become wolves. What's more, his wife had been wanting to get pregnant for some reason lately.
Ding.
His phone buzzed.
He opened the LINE group and tapped the document.
After reading the evaluation, his eyebrows shot up.
"That good?"
He adjusted his glasses and began reading with a critic's eye.
One stone stirred a thousand ripples.
The document's appearance instantly revived the otherwise quiet group chat.
"Damn, this is good. Haven't seen a newcomer this strong in ages."
"The pacing and prose are smooth. Honestly not inferior to last year's Gold Prize winner, Kuninaka-sensei's The Summer We Spent So You Wouldn't Forget Me."
"Why is it only twenty thousand words? It's nowhere near enough! After it passes the first round, make the author finish Volume One ASAP. Online urging campaign, go!"
"Kagurazaka, congratulations. You found a good one."
---
Currently being force-fed expensive yakiniku by her junior, Kagurazaka glanced at the messages and grinned so wide it almost looked suspicious.
There were rules in the publishing house.
For newcomer submissions, whichever chief editor discovered a promising work first would be responsible for it by default.
"Chief… you're smiling in a way that makes me nervous."
The rookie editor shivered slightly.
"It's nothing. Eat more. I owe you for this one."
She was in an exceptionally good mood.
When a great work got published, the editor received a share of the royalties too.
She could already see another designer handbag flying straight into her closet.
...
Back in Chiba—
Most high schoolers wouldn't choose to work at a convenience store.
The pay was low, and the work was tiring.
Take Oikawa's store, for example. The hourly wage was only 820 yen.
At a family restaurant, you could make at least 950 yen an hour, and the job was easier.
The only reason Oikawa stuck with the convenience store was simple.
Free bentos.
Food about to expire sold at half price.
Over time, the savings added up.
When you grow up poor, you learn to calculate every coin. If you don't, you go hungry.
"It's almost nine-thirty. Kawasaki should be here soon."
Oikawa yawned and tidied up the counter.
High schoolers were limited to four working hours per day. After ten, his pig of a boss would come take over.
The door chime rang.
A blue-haired, blue-eyed girl rushed inside, shoulder bag slung across her body. She bent over slightly, catching her breath.
"I left the notebook in the usual spot. Start on it. If there's anything you don't get, I'll explain later."
Oikawa looked up from scrolling through LINE, and while Saki Kawasaki wasn't paying attention, he shamelessly indulged in a quick visual appreciation.
Honestly, carrying these natural big "assets" around should count as illegal body-checking.
"…Mm."
Kawasaki walked to the shelf, picked up two tuna rice balls and three salted-egg rice balls, then grabbed two bottles of cola.
"How much?"
He scanned the items and glanced at the register.
"986 yen."
After paying, she left two rice balls and one cola on the counter, then carried the rest over to the seats by the side.
.
.
.