082. The Creators

Kasumigaoka Utaha fell into a long silence, while Sonoko Machida waited patiently by her side, unhurried.

After what seemed like an eternity, Kasumigaoka Utaha closed her laptop, looked at Sonoko Machida, and said earnestly, “I understand. I’ll consider adding more of the ‘freshness’ you mentioned. So, when is the new deadline?”

Sonoko Machida secretly breathed a sigh of relief. She had genuinely feared that Utaha’s tenacious nature would make her reject the suggestion.

Then, seeing Utaha’s serious face as she awaited her reply, Sonoko Machida smiled and said, “There’s no immediate rush. As long as you can hand it in about a week before the Newcomer Award results, that’s fine.”

“A week before…” Utaha frowned slightly, murmuring to herself.

“What’s wrong? Is there an issue with the timing?” Sonoko Machida asked, a little surprised by Utaha’s expression.

“It’s a bit tight… Didn’t I mention it before? That junior who inspired me to write?” Utaha’s expression became subtly complex as she spoke.

Sonoko Machida chuckled, teasing, “Do you and this junior have some little secret between you?”

Seeing Machida’s playful demeanor again, Utaha explained with some exasperation, “Eriri and that junior formed a game club together, and invited me to join…”

“So Shi-chan is willing to do anything for the man she’s set her sights on, huh? Ah… Sorry, go on.” Machida quickly changed her tone when she saw Utaha’s impending irritation.

Utaha sighed helplessly and continued, “At first, Eriri was in charge of the planning, but it was just a mishmash of popular galgames—and the motivation for making the game was pretty vague to begin with… After we all rejected it, that junior volunteered to take over.”

“And last time, I happened to run into him at that café again… He told me about the game he wanted to make, and from then on I felt I absolutely had to participate in this project.”

Seeing the way Sonoko Machida raised her eyebrows at the word “happened,” Utaha paused for a moment, then continued nonchalantly.

When Machida heard this, she couldn’t suppress her surprise. “You, Shi-chan, had a feeling you ‘absolutely had to participate’? Now I really want to see this project… So that’s why you’re tight on time?”

Utaha nodded, then replied seriously, “Tomorrow is the deadline that Jiang Yu set himself. Even if it’s not perfect, based on what he told me that day, it’s a game proposal that will get anyone involved excited.”

“Jiang Yu? Is he Chinese?” Machida’s focus seemed to shift, and she asked in surprise.

“Probably. I’ve never asked. With so much cultural exchange between our country and China these days, neither I nor most students here find anything unusual about Chinese exchange students or Chinese living here temporarily. That’s probably why Jiang Yu has met so many people, yet not everyone cares where he’s from.”

Machida frowned in puzzlement. “I remember the author of ‘Oregairu’ is also Chinese, and a high schooler. Ruri-chan told me about it, and she seemed really surprised—it left quite an impression on me. Apparently, he lives in Chiyoda right now.”

Utaha’s lips parted in astonishment, her brows knitting—her disbelief plain to see.

After a long moment of silent exchange, Utaha, having regained her composure, said, “It must be a coincidence, right? What’s that author’s real name?”

Machida shook her head, indicating she didn’t know. Taking out her phone, she said, “I’ll ask his editor—she should know.”

Soon, Machida looked up from her phone at Utaha, half-amused, half-exasperated. “His name is Jiang Yu.”

Utaha’s hand trembled as she held her coffee, but she forced herself to remain calm and asked, “Which Jiang, which Yu?”

Machida took a deep breath and replied, enunciating each word, “Jiang, as in the sage from ‘The Investiture of the Gods’; Yu, as in Li Yu, the last ruler of Southern Tang in Chinese history.”

So now they were using historical figures as references. Truly, Machida was an outstanding woman—even as a dropout from Aoyama University, she’d maintained an impressive breadth of knowledge.

As the top student in her year, Utaha certainly knew these figures. Hearing this, she could no longer hide the shock on her face and murmured, “It’s actually the same person?”

Machida, having heard her, suppressed her own astonishment and smiled. “Now I’m even more curious to see what kind of proposal your junior will come up with.”

Utaha herself wasn’t sure what she was feeling, but she replied with equal seriousness, “I’m looking forward to it too.”

…

On the summit of Detective Hill, in a typical English-style mansion—

A certain blonde, twin-tailed girl, whose pen name was “Eiri” but who was more commonly known as a “defeated heroine” (with a hint of self-mockery), was at home in a state utterly unlike her usual elegant self at school.

Admittedly, she was a true young lady at heart. But at this moment, at home, her hair was unbound, she wore black-rimmed glasses much like Eriri’s, hunched over her desk, occasionally scratching her head in agitation.

On the desk, at the center, lay a half-finished sketch, surrounded by seven or eight completed drafts awaiting inking.

As for the content… let’s just say it was a bit questionable for a high school girl of her age.

Now, let’s formally introduce this blonde, twin-tailed beauty.

Pen name: “Kashiwagi Eri,” a super popular adult doujinshi artist. Real name: Eriri Spencer Sawamura, a second-year student at the private Toyonoki Academy.

Currently, she was the artist for the doujin circle “egoistic-lily”—a circle that existed solely for her.

With her shining blonde hair loose, Eriri looked far more disheveled than usual, gritting her teeth and muttering as she worked on her sketches.

Before long, Eriri scratched her head in frustration, threw down her pen, stood up, and flopped onto her soft bed, letting out a long sigh.

“Ugh, deadlines can go to hell!” she suddenly shouted in exasperation.

As she calmed down, Eriri stared blankly at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting to Aki’s recent absurd actions.

He’d gathered a group of misfits—herself included—then made grand declarations about making a game, only to foist the planning off on someone else in the end.

At that, Eriri recalled the day when the boy named Jiang Yu had suddenly appeared so confident, leaving her momentarily speechless.

She pouted, resolving inwardly that tomorrow, she’d tear his proposal to shreds.

Suddenly, a rush of motivation surged through her. She sat up again and returned to her desk, continuing to work on her unfinished drafts.