150. A Single Obsession For a Lifetime

Saturday evening, at Jiang Yu’s home.

After finishing work and returning home, Jiang Yu recalled the meeting time he had just arranged with Kyoko Kato. He rubbed his somewhat weary lower back, picked up a change of clothes, and prepared to go to the bathroom.

In every sense of the word, Jiang Yu felt utterly exhausted today. The main reason was not the workload of being a pianist, which he had gradually grown accustomed to during his evening shifts. Rather, ever since getting up that morning, he had spent the entire day playing a game with Umaru Doma—a game whose awkward controls supposedly made it a survival horror title, though in reality it was closer to an action shooter.

After washing himself, Jiang Yu soaked in the bathtub, resting one arm lightly against its rim. He tilted his head back and watched the faint mist swirl upward, eventually vanishing into the vent.

Having gained a rough understanding of the game industry today, Jiang Yu could not help wondering whether he might be able to start out in the ACG world and accomplish something truly great. No matter how composed he usually appeared, he was still only a boy—or, at most, a young man in terms of his mental age.

ACG was an abbreviation for Animation, Comic, and Game, a collective term for animation, manga, and games. Some people also used ACGN, with the final letter standing for Novel. This was a term used primarily by people from his former homeland. It was not particularly common in the island nation or in English-speaking countries. The former generally used “the two-dimensional world” to refer to this collection of subcultures, while the latter usually called it “anime and manga,” which did not include games.

In the end, although people within the ACG community considered the “G” to mean “game,” most outsiders still took it to refer primarily to Japanese-style games, especially dating simulations.

Although this concept had gradually begun to blur under the impact of fan-oriented games adapted from numerous popular intellectual properties, even now, when two-dimensional culture was beginning to spread, placing the entire game industry alongside animation and manga still felt somewhat forced.

If they absolutely had to be placed side by side, then perhaps painting, film, and games would be more appropriate, since all three belonged to the nine universally recognized forms of art.

In Jiang Yu’s heart, he preferred to call these fantastical worlds created by humanity “the two-dimensional world.” Something their creators wished to tell the world was often buried within them. It was not necessarily beautiful, but it was always born from the most genuine thoughts in their minds at the time, and from the purest desire to express themselves. Driven by those impulses, they created these worlds and the dazzling stories that unfolded within them.

As the saying went, “A fine piece of writing is born of nature, and a master merely happens upon it.” Many magnificent works that left readers sighing in admiration after they had finished reading were often the products of a creator’s sudden flash of inspiration.

He had entered the game-development world out of personal interest, and had arrived in this world by a twist of fate. Jiang Yu did not wish to consider whether some unseen force had manipulated it all, but deep down, he did harbor the desire to fulfill the ambitions he had once held in his previous life.

In the end, he was still an ordinary person.

He experienced joy and anger, sorrow and happiness. He was capable of greed, hatred, delusion, resentment, and longing. Yet compared with many people who had struggled through half their lives in society, there was a little more idealistic light within him.

And that ideal was not particularly grand. He did not dream of establishing rules or spreading a culture. He merely wished, as a creator, to use games, animation, manga, and other forms to tell the stories hidden deep within his heart.

That light was not dazzling enough to change the world, but without anyone noticing, it would attract many others who carried dreams of their own and draw them to his side.

Then perhaps he should simply continue along this path.

At that thought, Jiang Yu could not help smiling. He rose, dried himself, drained the bathtub, put on his pajamas, and walked out while toweling his hair.

Taking some barley tea from the refrigerator, he passed through the living room. Under Umaru’s puzzled gaze, he slowly walked onto the balcony beside it. Leaning slightly forward against the railing, he looked out at the bustling metropolis of Tokyo beneath the night sky.

His apartment was not especially high up, but because of the surrounding terrain, he could still see a dazzling slice of the city if he lifted his gaze as far as possible.

After staring at the scene for a long while, Jiang Yu finally shook his head lightly and left the balcony.

When he returned to the living room, he saw his younger sister watching him with concern. She had even set down her game controller, something she had not done in quite some time. Jiang Yu was faintly startled, but at the same time, a warm current seemed to flow through his heart. The gentle heat gave him the illusion that his entire body had grown warm.

After a moment’s thought, Jiang Yu said to Umaru, “I have something to do tomorrow, so I’m going to bed first. You should go to sleep early too, okay?”

Umaru looked as though she wanted to say something, but in the end she only nodded and said nothing more.

Jiang Yu took in her expression and smiled helplessly. He raised his right hand and lightly flicked the girl on the forehead.

“I have something important to do tomorrow. I’ll take you out to have fun another time, all right?”

The faint disappointment in Umaru’s eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by an incomparably bright smile. She nodded vigorously.

…

Early the next morning, after preparing breakfast and waking Umaru, Jiang Yu changed into clothes suitable for going out and headed to Kyoko Kato’s café.

When he entered the café through the back door, Kyoko Kato was sitting in a chair, drinking coffee while playing with her phone. She appeared to have been waiting for quite some time.

After exchanging greetings, she invited him to have a cup of coffee. The memory of being tricked last time immediately resurfaced in Jiang Yu’s mind. He could almost taste that exceptionally bitter sensation again, so he decisively refused.

Kyoko Kato was taken aback. She shook her head with amusement but did not pursue the subject.

The two of them then took a car to Chinatsu Kotobuki’s music store. Perhaps because everything had been arranged in advance, after Kyoko Kato explained their purpose at the front desk, a man in a business suit respectfully led them to a lounge.

They had not been waiting long when Jiang Yu, with his sharp eyes, was the first to notice Chinatsu Kotobuki walking toward them. The two rose to greet her. After exchanging pleasantries, they all got into Chinatsu Kotobuki’s car and prepared to head for their destination.

With Chinatsu Kotobuki in the driver’s seat and Kyoko Kato in the passenger seat, Jiang Yu naturally had no choice but to sit in the back.

Yet when he opened the rear door, he could not help freezing in place. A charming young girl was already sitting inside.

She had pale golden hair that fell to her shoulders, the ends curling slightly as though that was simply its natural shape. After a moment of surprise, Jiang Yu quietly said, “Excuse me,” and climbed into the car.

What puzzled him was how astonished the girl seemed by his appearance. Her gray eyes were filled with confusion and curiosity. Her reaction went far beyond that of someone encountering a complete stranger for the first time. Instead, she looked as though she had suddenly come face-to-face with someone she faintly remembered.

Had he met her before?

It’s him?

The boy and girl seated in the back were both immersed in confusion, each harboring entirely different thoughts.