Haruto opened a browser and typed the title of his book into the search bar. The results that came up were pitifully few. Even the entries related to Matsuko were scarce, giving him only a vague idea of what had happened recently—there wasn't even a single video clip from the program.
"So the reaction wasn't as big as I'd hoped, huh…"
He scrolled through the search results, one by one, clicking the 'x' to close each tab. His face remained expressionless, each click feeling heavier than the last.
He had originally planned to cook dinner for himself that evening, but when the doorbell rang and he saw Setsuna standing there, she marched right into his apartment, turned off the stove he had just lit, and dragged him over to the Kiyoura household. He also gave up the idea of preparing dinner.
When Mai came home from work and heard that Haruto had been planning to cook, she glanced at him with a curious expression.
"Something wrong?" he asked.
"No… I just don't get it. We're not strangers. We have dinner together almost every night, so what difference does it make if there's one more person or one less? Or… do you not like my cooking?"
"Well, the flavors in Gifu are a little different from Tokyo's, but I'm not that picky. I just suddenly felt like cooking for myself, that's all."
"Burned out on us already?"
Mai stared at him, a knowing look in her eyes as she nodded slightly.
"Huh?"
"Isn't that a thing in relationships? A phase where you get tired of the other person? Is that what this is?"
Setsuna, who had been sitting quietly in the living room, slowly sat upright and turned her gaze toward Haruto. He noticed her eyes on him and returned a glance and a faint smile before turning back to Mai and letting out a small sigh.
"No, that's not it. It's not about getting tired of someone or anything like that. It's just… my book's not selling very well lately, and I've been feeling kind of lost."
He hadn't planned on talking about this with anyone, but since Mai had misunderstood, he felt he needed to set the record straight before it led to something worse.
"Sales, huh? What happened?"
Mai hadn't really asked about the book's performance before, nor did she know much about the publishing world. But now that he mentioned his worries, she couldn't help but show concern.
"Initial sales were pretty low. From release until now, it's only sold a few thousand copies. It's made me wonder if I'm even cut out for this."
She didn't fully understand. A few thousand copies sounded like a lot to someone outside the industry. She blinked and looked at Haruto, who sighed again.
"That doesn't sound so bad though, right?"
"Objectively, it's not terrible. In niche communities, even famous figures sometimes sell just a few thousand copies of their autobiographies."
Her words helped Haruto regain a bit of composure. He remembered some of the other rookie writers he'd heard of—some had only sold a few hundred copies. He wasn't at the bottom, at least.
"Then…"
"I guess I just set my expectations too high. Honestly, it's probably average."
"It's only your first book, right? I'm sure things will get better from here."
Not knowing the full picture, Mai did her best to comfort him in her own way. She glanced at her daughter briefly before returning her gaze to the young man before her.
"At your age, achieving this much is already impressive, isn't it?"
Compared to others his age, it was impressive—but Haruto himself didn't really see it that way. After all, he wasn't just some ordinary young man. So he smiled slightly and let the topic drop, switching the conversation to dinner plans.
Meanwhile, Setsuna watched Haruto's back from the sofa, a quiet look of contemplation on her face. She was already wondering if there was something—anything—she could do to help.
The Next Morning...
Waiting for Setsuna outside as they prepared to walk to school, Sekai listened to what had happened the night before. When she heard that Haruto was struggling with the sales of his book, she began thinking seriously.
"Even if we pooled our entire living expenses, we probably couldn't buy more than a few dozen copies."
They only had about 200,000–300,000 yen saved up between them. Even if they used it all, it would barely make a dent. It would be like pouring a cup of water into a bonfire.
"And if Haruto found out, he'd probably be upset. That's just how he is—he'd never be happy knowing we did that."
"What if we promoted it at school?" Setsuna suggested.
Sekai considered this too. Buying the books with their own money wouldn't help much, and Haruto would definitely disapprove. Maybe a bit of subtle marketing at school would be better.
"Promoting it in class? Yeah, that might work. Did you bring his book with you?"
"No, I left it at home."
"Same here. If we had it, we could just casually read it during break time. Someone like Kuroda Hikari would definitely get curious, and we could use that to bring it up."
"...Yeah."
Setsuna thought about Hikari's personality—it might actually work.
"What about the others?"
"We'll just say the author is your boyfriend. That might catch the girls' interest. The guys… probably not so much."
"..."
Setsuna hesitated. Her face showed a hint of uncertainty.
"Do you think it might bother Haruto?"
"Bother him? Why would it?"
Sekai didn't quite get where that concern was coming from, but she knew Setsuna was a bit shy.
"Then… how about I handle it?"
"Sekai…"
"I'll bring it up. You just be the 'author's girlfriend,' okay?"
Looking into Sekai's eyes, Setsuna bit her lip. Something in her gaze hardened.
"No… I'll do it. I'll handle it."
Meanwhile, back in his classroom, Haruto suddenly sneezed, rubbing his itchy nose.
Someone must be talking about me…
He looked around at the now half-full classroom, his thoughts drifting.
"I talked with my editor," came a monotone voice.
Haruto turned to see Nozaki Umetarou, who had taken his seat and was tapping Haruto lightly on the back.
"He said, as long as it's subtle, it's fine. I read your book. I might try weaving it into my next script."
Haruto blinked in surprise. He'd only mentioned his book offhandedly, never expecting Nozaki to seriously consult his editor. Now he was genuinely touched.
"Thanks."
"It's nothing. Are you free tonight?"
"Uh… yeah, I don't have anything planned. Why?"
"I need help coloring. It's getting hard to keep up on my own."
Haruto stared at Nozaki's ever-calm face, then chuckled.
"Alright, but just tonight."
"Deal."
Having no pressing plans of his own, Haruto figured helping Nozaki with his manga was a decent way to pass time. It was almost relaxing. He agreed with a smile.
Noticing how easily Haruto accepted, Nozaki looked at him a moment longer before resting his chin on his hand and drifting into thought...
Later That Day…
"I chase not worldly joys,Yet fate drags me along.What do I yearn for tonight?Only the moon at midnight."
It was a poem written in the fourth year of Chōwa by Sanjōin, who had just turned forty. Because he made the daughter of his beloved Left General his empress, the powerful Fujiwara no Michinaga retaliated by parading his own daughter magnificently into the palace on her inauguration day.
Listening to such tales of ancient politics and poetry, Haruto's mind began to drift. Could this be the kind of inspiration he needed for his next work?
Even though his sales had begun to show a small uptick, he could feel it—pure literature might not be his calling. He started to consider a shift toward light novels.
"There are tons of historical works where generals and ministers are reimagined as women, and many of those got anime adaptations…"
But history wasn't exactly his strong suit. He had no clue where to begin. The Sengoku era had been done to death.Maybe… earlier?
"Obscure historical figures wouldn't attract any readers. I should go with someone famous—preferably a woman."
He racked his brain. The only historical women he could remember were Oichi, often called the most beautiful woman of the Sengoku period, and Yodo-dono, a concubine of Toyotomi Hideyoshi and daughter of Azai Nagamasa. Beyond that, his knowledge was fuzzy.
"History really isn't my strength. I'm drawing a blank."
At lunch break, Haruto went to Rio Futaba's lab, only to find it empty. A quick message confirmed that she had things to do and wouldn't be coming to school today.
He checked the time, then left the lab and headed to the astronomy club room. After texting Koharu Otori, he soon saw the girl appear before him.
"All the photos are still on the wall."
"I forgot."
Koharu shut the door behind her and walked over to him with a light step. Then, without hesitation, she sat in his lap and curled herself into his arms.
It wasn't that she forgot. More likely, she simply didn't want to take them down.
The room was covered in photos—a wall full of them. If anyone else walked in here, Haruto thought, it would be the end of his social life.
"If someone sees this, I'm done for."
"No one else will ever see. I promise."
Her sweet voice rang with certainty. Haruto looked at the girl in his arms and didn't respond. Instead, he reached out, gently pinched the white thigh-high stockings on her leg, and gave them a little tug.
With a soft snap, the elastic released and bounced back against her skin.
"Every time I see you, you're always wearing white stockings."
"You don't like them?"
"It's not that I don't like them. I just think it'd be nice to see black ones once in a while too. But honestly, no matter what you wear, you always look good in it, Koharu. You're really cute."
Hearing those words, the girl lifted her head from his chest, a delighted smile blooming across her face as she looked up at Haruto.
"Then I'll go buy a new pair after school today. Since tomorrow's a day off… Haruto, you can come by here again. I'll wear them just for you."
"Tomorrow, huh? I don't have any plans… Sure, I'll drop by in the afternoon."
With the date set to meet again in the astronomy clubroom, Haruto eventually left when the lunch break ended and made his way back to class.
As he crossed from the club building to the main school building, he suddenly spotted a pair of familiar thighs on the stairway. The black stockings, sheer and snug against the skin, immediately drew his eyes upward. As his gaze rose past the hem of her skirt, instinct took over—and he found himself staring into a void of darkness beneath.
"Disappointed you didn't see more?"
The voice was familiar. Following it, he looked up to see a face he recognized all too well—Kasumigaoka Utaha, staring down at him with a mix of scorn and amusement.
Haruto's expression, however, remained perfectly calm.